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well – i’ve decided to sell my house. it seems like the only pro-active thing to do. and i’m bitter about it to be sure. angry when i have the energy for it.
i researched options; called my lender every other day; listened to freely given (and sometimes unsolicited) legal and personal advice; grasped at straws; burned bridges; cried rivers and generally every other pathetic – but genuine – attempt at figuring out how to keep my home. you may have seen this all in the blink of a blog – but it’s been going on for more than a year now. it’s almost Halloween – it’s time to give up the ghost.
friends and loved ones are trying to console me – trying to mitigate the sadness, the anger, the grief and loss with words of optimism and hope, “It might be for the best. . .” “Tomorrow can only get better” “You’ve done all you can” “You’ll always have a roof over your head” “You still have what really matters” – yet even though it’s all well-meaning – and probably true – these are merely empty platitudes for myself and the MILLIONS of Americans who have already lost – or are in the process of losing – their homes.
my boyfriend says to me, “let me know how best to support you.” and i (probably a bit too sharply) reply, “does your father still have his guns? you can take me around back and shoot me out of my suffering.” – he didn’t find it very funny.
i know, I Know, I KNOW! i’m usually a perpetually rose-colored person myself. yet lately, with my back hurting from painting, my piss smelling like Tension Tamer tea, and packing up my belongings to make my house look “Unlived-in Urban” – i am feeling righteously adamant that optimism is a place being reserved for the fundamental, the optimystical and the rich. i KNOW for every down there’s an up; that every thorn has its rose; that the darkest comes before the dawn – well it’s Zero Dark-thirty now -so DAMMIT! let me have my bitterness, my sarcasm, and my acridity. let me have my anger! and let me express my moments of justifiable rage with dark humor – it’s all i have left.
what? the New York Times reports that, “Hoping, perhaps, to persuade a dubious public that curbing reckless business practices is indeed a Washington priority, the Obama administration and Congress produced a hat trick of financial reforms last week.”? [http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/25/weekinreview/25morgenson.html?_r=1] yeah – we’re simply dubious after $700 billion dollars in TARP funds have been spent and only “1.53 million properties were in the foreclosure process. . . during the first six months of 2009” [http://tampabaymortgagecrisis.wusf.usf.edu/?p=188]. wow! things are coming up Disney!
- oh? and Feinberg plans on cutting executive pay? well, i hope they can still afford healthcare. with the average CEO making 31,000 DOLLARS A DAY (David J O’Reilly has been CEO of Chevron makes 94,821.92/day and he’s #44), those executives from the largest TARP Bailouts might not be able to get their daughter, Lucy, her H1N1 vaccine making only $34,301 a day [http://www.forbes.com/lists/2009/12/best-boss-09_CEO-Compensation-Banking_9Rank.htm]. what happens if they then have to take a day off when she’s sick?! there goes the Equestrian lessons Lucy! oh, the horrors!
“Home Sales Show Big Monthly Increase Due to Expiring Tax Credit” [http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/10/23/home-sales-rise-94-in-sep_n_331884.html] – Thank Obama! SOME lucky fat-cat investor will now be able to afford to bulk buy my house to make another profit and i’ll be out of debt! brilliant! hope they keep up the garden!
oh, please?! tell me another good joke. i mean, really, it’s not that bad, right?
now to go meditate on the image of the Top 500 Executive Bull Runs. . .
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i was checking lab results in the Naturopathic doctor’s office that i recently landed a job at and came across “Lost and Found Results.” i was amused by the URL which should have said “/lost-and-found” reads instead, “/ambiguous-results.html” – i laughed – how fitting a title for my housing dilemma.
for the past several months i have been trying to blindly find my through endless media, legal counsel and hearsay to making educated, informed decisions about my mortgage crisis. the only things that are clear is that NO ONE really knows the answers and clearly i am too far behind to catch up; clearly i have exhausted all of my resources; clearly i am frustrated and angry at being a smart, knowledgeable woman who cannot make heads nor tails of this national disaster because she’s too embroiled in the “process”.
i’m tired. the stress levels i am living with make me not even want to go home at the end of the day. my house, once my sanctuary and safe haven, is now equal to the Catholic’s idea of Purgatory. i am in Dr. Seuss’ dreaded “Waiting Place” where i’m waiting “Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the phone to ring” waiting for a ‘yes’ or a ‘no.’
i am getting desperate. i have been sick and out of work the past 2 days because my immune system got trampled by the bureaucratic modification system. i’m either up late reading everything i can on the housing crisis or i’m trying to get all of my paperwork in order in case i qualify for modification or i’m crying my heart out at the sheer exhaustion it is taking trying to get out from under this domino landslide. or, like right now, i’m blogging to try to lay it all down so i can grasp at the slightest possibility to sleep restfully.
i’m SO desperate and tired and at a loss as to what i can do to actually make a difference in my situation that i am (foolishly?) writing to news sources to try to get my voice heard, my story told, my circumstances noticed – by someone, anyone – please.
Huffington Post asked, “Have You Been Offered a Loan Modification?” apparently statistics are showing that more and more people are turning down loan modifications [http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/10/08/mortgage-loan-modificatio_n_314697.html]. it is the consensus that people are losing hope.
this is my response; the latest installment in my ongoing housing saga:
Offered loan modification? Not yet. And don’t know if I’ll ever get there. According to a lawyer I spoke with who has dealt with my mortgage company, First Franklin, it doesn’t sound like I ever will. Given the formula for qualifying for modification through the Making Homes Affordable Program, my hardships will actually hurt my chances of getting approved. By their numbers I do not fall within the 31% loan to income ratios- even if they reduce my interest rate to 2% and lengthen the terms of my loan to 40 years. If I could show more income that ratio would shift. Since Oregon’s unemployment rate is 11.5% I can try to get a second job, but have no idea how long that might take. I have a friend who wants to move in with me to help, but when I talked with one of First Franklin’s phone hounds, they told me they would have had to be living in my home for more than two years and I would have had to report it on my tax returns by way of filing a Schedule E. The company that got me into this loan by fixing numbers to magically appear as if I could afford the terms based on my “stated income”, now, all of a sudden, is stringently requiring traditional qualifying ratios. First Franklin, this lawyer says, is one of the more difficult to deal with and after several months of this process I would have to concur.
Moreover, when I went to a “Foreclosure Prevention Information Session” put on by Hacienda (http://www.haciendacdc.org/News/51/Details/), a HUD Certified Housing Counseling Agency, they said that as of recent reports only 10% of modifications are happening statewide through the Making Homes Affordable Program. – The numbers, either way, are beginning to work against me.
I also spoke to the lawyer about the rumored ‘options’ of ‘Produce the Note’ or ‘Rescind Your Mortgage’ tactics. For $500 I could send my original loan agreement into a company of former underwriters to go over it with a fine-toothed comb for obvious mistakes and find enough egregious errors in violation of the Truth in Lending Act to rescind the original loan. I have heard that some homeowners are trying it by utilizing online legal templates, but when would a single, working mom find the time and further energy to pursue it that way? After the dinner dishes and homework are done? If I go through a lawyer, who at least would have a vested interest in my case, I would then be responsible for following through on litigation against a multi-million dollar corporation with endless funds (from homeowner’s hard-earned dollars) and could wind up in a situation where a judge refuses to release my attorney’s retainer. This would push me further into debt rather than out of the hole I’m already stuck in. The only way that would be a viable option for me would be to find a lawyer to work for free. I don’t know of any – do you?
- So are people giving up? I could certainly see why given all of the obstacles and hurdles it takes to get an idea of what your true options are. Because both the lawyer and the counseling agency said that no one – not them, not the creditors, not the government – really knows how to navigate this process successfully.
It’s a giant crap shoot and I personally feel like I am wasting valuable time. If I put my house on the market today I might actually be able to sell it for an amount that pays off both my first and second mortgage on the house. If I wait until the next 4 weeks when first Franklin says they’ll know for certain whether I qualify or not (‘for certain’ after initially telling me it would take 7 – 10 business days for certain – and that was the 1st of October and I re-inquired on the 16th when they “informed me” of this new delay) then it’ll be the coldest part of Portland’s year that I will be trying to sell. NOT ideal. So what am I supposed to do? Hinge my hopes and home on a program that I won’t actually qualify for? Or forge forward to the inevitability of losing my home, but at least getting out of debt?
Kalliste E____
Sexy/Smart Single Mom, Struggling Homeowner
Portland,OR
it’s a great letter, but it doesn’t go into a lot of things that the lender just doesn’t give a shit about and the major news organizations don’t cover. the things that at my lowest moments make me uncertain as to whether or not i should even try to keep my home.
my hardship letter doesn’t mention how i’ve tried over the years to maintain multiple housemates. how weird and frightening it can get having these virtually unknown people interact with your children on a daily basis. how their hardships become your hardships and fights over “who’s done the dishes lately!” can become a major issue in their grand scheme of things. take for example my last housemate -well – it started off as odd little things. . . like she labeled all of her stuff – and then started labelling mine; she played opera music on weekdays until 1 in the morning yet complained about the boys’ Playstation games “tweaking her ears”; proceeded to live outside on my deck rather than in her room; meticulously cleaned & organized the shed, but refused to clean her hair out of the tub to prevent it from clogging; and then she began texting me to “talk” while we were both in the house . we had a 30 day trial agreement and, needless to say, when 30 days came i was sure it wasn’t going to work, so i asked her to leave. she dramatically cried, “what did i do wrong?” then adds (more to herself than me and in a completely normal voice), “well i have been off my meds. . .” yup. turns out she was bipolar. – chalk that up to one more very important question to put on the housemate questionnaire.
aside from being verifiably crazy that last one even COST me money with all of the accumulated fees my bank charged when she paid half the rent by paypal eleven days later than we agreed. ouch. that one really hurt. and it just got weirder and nastier as the final days before she moved out approached. this lady was such a spectacular disaster as a house mate that i’ve grown weary – and now leery – from placing an ad on Craigslist to find another. but i’d do it if it made a difference in my lender considering it as income.
that letter glaringly glosses over how much money over the past two years that i’ve borrowed from those close to me to make ends meet: my amazing community of friends, out of the goodness of their hearts during that snow season, delved into their charity funds and their own thin pocketbooks to float me $500 here and gas money to get to work there. my brother, who in the midst of his divorce, loaned me $1000. another month, one of my closest friends loaned me $1000 from his tax return even when he wasn’t sure whether his unemployment from this year would be extended. another dear friend who offered me a loan with terms and was patient enough to let the terms slide during the leanest of times. it’s been heartwarming to be shown how much love and support i have in my life – it’s also brought me to the marrow of what “pride” and “humility” mean.
yet, even when i thought i had learned those lessons i was side-swiped by the depth of my cultural conditioning to maintain this strong front of endurance. that letter doesn’t at all speak to the fact that i waited so long to engage in the process because i was too much in denial and felt such overwhelming humiliation and ineptitude that i neglected to act. i kick myself for this one. i’d already had to beg, borrow, and work trade my way through the winter – but once i couldn’t keep up and i had exhausted all of my resources – well i just felt incompetent. which, with my set of Latino influenced work ethic, not providing for your family is equivalent to failure. at 38 years old i felt like an amateur adult; i was deflated. (even in the midst of this ego-crushing crisis i’m in – i find it rather amusing and ironic that a synonym for ‘amateur’ is ‘bush-league.’ capitalize on THAT George W.)
and yet, through it all, i stand back in wonder of the values i’m upholding. i have to chastise myself for my Bourgeois emphasis on this one material possession. i recognize that, as a Nation, we’ve heretofore grown into a place of comfortable complacency – our excesses HAD to catch up with us sometime and it was inevitable that the American Dream would turn out to be a farce. i have to chuckle at my ‘poor-me attitude’ – i realize i’m living in the top 1% - and i’m damned grateful that at least i have a roof over my head. moreover – i’m trying to keep a broader vantage point of my situation and rob brezny’s horoscope [http://freewillastrology.com] really gave me a panoramic jolt:
“The average middle class person alive today has more goodies than the kings and queens of times past. In fact, even during this time of economic retrenchment, most of us have a higher standard of living than 99 percent of all the humans who’ve ever walked the planet. In pointing this out, I don’t mean to discount the suffering of those who’ve lost their jobs and homes. But I think it’s helpful to keep our collective deprivations in perspective. Similarly, I like to remember that no matter how much our personal trials may test us, they are more bearable than, say, the tribulations of the generation that lived through the Great Depression and World War II. Keep this in mind, Sagittarius. As you wander in the limbo between the end of one chapter of your life story and the beginning of the next chapter, it’ll really help to stay conscious of how blessed you are. Halloween costume suggestion: a saint tending to the needs of the dispossessed and underprivileged.”
so now the question remains: what is the next chapter?
‘deferred payment’ means to pay back a debt at some later date – i’m just wondering in how many ways i’m going to be paying – in blood? sweat? tears, for certain. it’s humiliating when you have to ask for help from the ones who got you into this mess – just sayin.
Letter of Hardship for Kalliste E____
From: Kalliste E____
To: First Franklin Loan Services
Mortgage Loan: ___________
Dear Creditor,
Since February of this year I have been experiencing financial difficulties due to layoff and subsequent unemployment.
After having my current financial situation carefully analyzed, I have concluded that it is no longer possible to comply with the original terms of the agreement. I have no choice but ask you for your help on avoiding the foreclosure of my family’s home.
I am writing this letter to explain my unfortunate set of circumstances that have caused us to become delinquent on our mortgage. I have done everything in my power to make ends meet but unfortunately I have fallen short and would like you to consider working with me to modify my loan. My number one goal is to keep our home and we would really appreciate the opportunity to do that.
Last year I enrolled in a pre-apprenticeship program to retrain as an electrician in the Solar Industry. I secured a job with SunEdison, a national solar company, in October 2008. I also applied for the Electrician’s Union (Local 48) in their September application process scoring 100 out of 357 applicants and awaited the opportunity to enter into their apprenticeship program. I continued to work into the winter of 2008 when a series of snow storms caused us to shut down our operations for days at a time leaving me with less and less income. After January it became clear that the inability to obtain state and federal tax incentives severely hampered the company’s financial solvency. By February 2009, with the economy’s decline and the tax incentives gone, SunEdison laid off half of its workforce, me among them, only to completely fold as a company 2 months later. I requested and began receiving unemployment in February and awaited news from the Electrician’s Union. Yet, due to the nature of the Union, they enforced an apprenticeship freeze until that time which their current members were fully employed. I have been looking for work since February, but with Oregon’s unemployment rate hovering between 10 and 12%, I had little success in finding work in the construction field or my previous line of work as a child care provider. As a single mother of two teenage sons, I applied for Food Stamps to help lower our overall bills. I have gone through Oregon’s Workforce Training Program and posted my resume on their sites. I struggled with paying my mortgage throughout the spring, so I sought and received help from family members and friends to cover my mortgage through June after which I simply could not make my mortgage payment and still feed my family and pay utilities. I became late in paying my mortgage. Soon after being late and our income not being nearly enough, we had fallen further and further behind. Now, it’s to the point where we cannot afford to pay what is owed to First Franklin. It is our full intention to pay what we owe. But at this time we have exhausted all of our income and resources so we are turning to you for help.
Our situation has begun to brighten since I have recently secured a job as an Administrative Assistant in a Naturopathic doctor’s office and I feel that a loan modification would benefit us both. We would appreciate if you can work with us to lower our delinquent amount owed and/or payment so we can keep our home and also afford to make amends with your firm.
Please understand that financial hardships can occur and many times it‘s not a choice. I deeply appreciate your help in this matter. If you have any questions, or need anything further from me, you can contact me at (503)___-____.
We truly hope that you will consider working with us in a timely manner as we are anxious to get this settled so we all can move on.
Sincerely and Respectfully,
oy, oy, oy! what a day!
bed was so warm and cozy and full of my lover this morning – i really felt NO motivation to get up and ‘attem today. but my kid needed to be driven to school and my girlfriend needed help moving across town and there were banks to be dealt with and on and on and on went THE LIST. i hit the snooze button for the 4th time, rolled over and whine, “do i HAVE to be motivated EVERY DAY?” and the answer these days is relentlessly, “yes.”
if i want to keep my house, yes. if i want to feed my kiddos, yes. if i want gas in the van, yes. if i want to catch up on my utility bills, yes. if i want to grab a dirty chai to keep me awake throughout the day, yes.
is it any more relentless than any other working class American schmo these days? no – but perhaps it requires more daily doses of diligence – and certainly a heaping spoonful of wry humor.
because in no more than 3 hours from dragging my ass out of bed and reluctantly motivating to start the day i find out that:
- someone has stolen my debit card number and already purchased $350 of whatnot on the internet.
- that the one place they could have stolen my number is from the internet purchase i made to pay for a credit report from freecreditreport.com [https://www.freecreditreport.com/] – and now the company that ran my credit report could be responsible for negatively affecting my credit and the company that boasts Identity Theft Protection just allowed someone to steal my information.
- the bank has frozen my account and i have to cancel my debit card and go into the bank to obtain another and have no way to pay for things like gas which i am dangerously low on.
- but that doesn’ turn out to really matter because after loading my van with jamaica’s couch – it won’t start. it’s just clicking when i turn the key – but it won’t turn over.
this is the part where i laugh and ask, “REALLY?“
yup.
and so the day goes:
- where the Mobile Groove Bomb [http://groovebomb.org] that is disguised as a moving truck won’t start because we left a dome light on too long. (but at least she’ll take a charge and gets us to jamaica’s new place to unload with nary a further complaint. – more than my van would do today)
- i get a lift from my honey to work and leave ALL of my loan modification papers and contact lists in his car
- along with my lunch
- and my keys to work.
so when my new boss asks me how i could possibly be laughing when all this shit went down in a 7 hour time period i tell her, “because today i can.”
’cause you should have seen the stunning wreck i was earlier this week. if this all had happened 4 days ago it just might have pushed me over the edge of being simply tempted to take all of my sleeping pills to having to actually have my stomach pumped – or worse – dead. (coward’s way – i know – but that’s how damn overwhelmed i felt and admittedly it crossed my mind. and please know that, really, i never would resort to that kind of dramatic stage-left exit because of my sensible responsibility for my children’s psychological well being.)
i felt literally at my wit’s end with this incessant process of 45 minute wait times to talk to a different phone hound every time; to get a different answer every time. for having to call every lawyer and consumer agency and community help lines that the grocery store attendant and this guy from the house party the other night recommended i contact. from going to this meeting in order to get an appointment for next week for that tidbit of information that wasn’t on their website. for going round and round in maddening circles as a full-time job to follow any lead that might give me a clue as to how to get out of this bloody mess.
and the part that scares me most is that NO ONE KNOWS. we’re all scrambling like ants under the magnifying glass to figure out what the steps are to keep me and millions of other Americans in their homes and out of foreclosure. it’s more than a mess – it’s a disaster.
and, as in the case of all of the other National disasters that have happened in our country’s recent memory – the government is too slow to respond and too tied to special interests invested in the disaster business to really help any low-income people. 911. Katrina. California fires. Iraq and Iran. Healthcare. The Mortgage Crisis.
<<<<<<<<<<<silent scream of incredulity and frustration>>>>>>>>>>>
‘mkay. better. now where was i? oh, yes: how it is i can laugh. because today i can. – because yesterday my loved ones found care for their little ones, broke into my house and came over in my time of complete and utter breakdown and smoothed my hair, kissed my forehead, and wiped away my tears. they talked me down with love and compassion so that today i could take the downpour a little easier; so that i could have a little bit of perspective knowing that i am not alone in this.
and THAT is why i am writing this blog- so that no one else in this Mortgage Disaster has to feel alone. i’m here – making it real for all of you who are only hearing it on the news – and making my voice heard for all those for whom it is an all-too-real reality.
well, here goes – i’ve been meaning to do this for a while and now i have my own private mortgage crisis fired up under my toes to give me the impetus to have my voice finally heard beyond my Senator’s voicemail. <<<deep breath>> well, here goes. . .
it’s a hell of a thing to think about losing your home. it brings it a lot closer to truth to say that when your home becomes the abode for condemned souls – and they are you and your two teenage boys. -up until now i considered it my Heaven on Earth, our Sanctuary, our respite from Portland’s liquid sunshine on blustery Autumnal days. these days – well these days, even though i l o v e our home, i am feeling the weight of it bearing on my soul. last week, in a moment of near-hysterical breakdown, i declared to my friend nick, “but i’m a Good witch, i’m not Supposed to get crushed by houses!”
especially my Own house – just sayin’.
for seven years i’ve persisted to keep this roof over my children’s heads. seven years is as long as i’ve lived ANYWHERE. during my 38 years of life on this blue-green algae blot on the Universe i’ve lived in 12 houses, 4 apartments, and one five story walk-up and i’m not even an Army brat. even the one i consider my childhood home (championed as such because it’s the only one we stayed in long enough to stick in my memory that it still appears in my dreams) lasted for merely 6 consecutive formative years. and the boys’ second home, the one they still share with my wasband, i lived in for only 5.
i’ve got literal roots here dammit! the vegetable garden was more than abundant this year – even by Paul Bunyan’s standards. which says a lot considering the backyard was virtually all grass until i beat it back – sheet mulching one quarter of it at a time. the jays and hummingbirds sure appreciated the fruits of my labor this summer. and the neighborhood squirrels, possum and raccoons were caught pilfering the compost heap and properly chased off by our dog, Gypsy. at least all that ruckus keeps them from digging any deeper than is respectful to the dead. you see, i have 3 pets buried in the various flower beds and the single crow i found that one Halloween is under the Clerodendrum tree. you know you’ve really lived somewhere when you’ve had graveside eulogies for the scaly, feathered and furry branches of your family.
as much as our home is haven to many critters out back, it also acts as the teenage wild-life refuge for all of my kids’ friends. i have gaggles of teens migrating through here every day. i just took in another stray who got booted out by his own less-than-understanding parents; we’re renting out the 3rd bedroom to him until he can save first and last month’s deposit for a place of his own. under the conditions that he keeps up on his dishes, doesn’t smoke anything in the house, and does his part to keep the utilities bill down. his $300/mo will help me a teensy bit with the mortgage – if i ever get another chance to pay it.
it’s a cozy little 3 bedroom/2 bonus room Ranch house harboring all this life – and death. it sits back on a lot and a half in the quiet FoPo (Foster/Powell) neighborhood of Portland. we fondly refer to it as living in the “dirty SouthEast” – the lower-middle-class income quadrant of 5 sectors of the City of Roses – Portland obviously doesn’t give a shit about accuracy in accounting either.
ah – accuracy in accounting – that brings us to how i got into this whole mess. . .
