I NEVER wanted to borrow on our home. But there would be forces working against me. My spouse was one.
One
day in early 2000, John came home with a brand new vehicle! He had
purchased a 2000 Ford Ranger for $23,000. I asked how we were going to
pay for it. He looked a little sheepish,and didn't answer. I asked how
much the payments were. He replied, "$495 a month. We were on a tight
budget at that point and I wondered he he could do that without
discussing it with me first. I told him we no longer had the income to
support those payments. His pension and Social Security payments were
used to pay our mortgage and living expenses and weren't enough to make
payments on a vehicle. I wasn't old enough at the time to file for
benefits myself on my 35+ years of comparatively low earnings, mostly in
the clerical arena.
John would have to come
out of retirement and get a job. A menial job. No executive position
for him. He had had enough of that during his career in Washington,
D.C. Despite his executive level job back in D.C., John had always
loved boats and even worked for a while in 1990 as a deck hand at a
yacht club in D.C. I admired him - a man earning $27.00 hourly as a
professional, wanting to work at a menial job just because of his love
of the water and boating Unfortunately, realities set in (the weather
was difficult to contend with, for one. He resigned after about eight
months.
But what to do about his extravagant purchase
of a pickup truck? John ended up with a $10.00 an hour job in a
nursing home. In the meantime, I looked into a second mortgage. After
three weeks at his nursing home job, he came down with a severe cold
and had to be off work. When it was time for him to return to work, he
wouldn't. So I proceeded with our first refinance. If he was going to
get $25,000 for himself, then I wanted $25,000 to put into further
remodeling of our home. So we received our second mortgage in the
amount of $50,000. That was the first of four times we were forced to
borrow money on our home over the next six years.
In
2001, John had relapsed. He tried hard for several years to control
his alcoholism, but could no longer sustain sobriety. There were
multiple hospitalizations as well as trouble with the law. For a while,
we were forced to pay $625.00 a week for a breathalyzer and camera
while he was on probation for a DUI (one of several). It was either
come up with the money or go to jail. My limited income and his small
pension and social security payments weren't enough to pay for these
expenses. But the economy was growing, real estate prices were on the
rise, we had equity in our home, and we felt we could handle the larger
payments, especially if I returned to work - which I had planned to do
in the summer of 2003, when I had my BA degree.
In
July of 2005, John's gastroenterologist informed us that with the three
symptoms he was exhibiting, he would probably die within three years.
He suffered from esophageal varicies, ascites, and mild encephalopathy
due to his chronic alcoholism. He also had contracted cirrhosis of the
liver.
John died on July 5, 2008. By then the house
was negatively amortized and I set out to refinance it to get out from
under the negative amortization. I received only $16,000 from John's
life insurance policy (he had made arrangements to reduce it by 75
percent when he turned 65). I had to pay $10,000 in "closing costs" -
the third time I had paid that amount during other re-financings. This
last re-fi meant an additional increase of $500 a month in mortgage
payments. This meant that two thirds of the mortgage payments went
toward interest, and the other third toward principal. It was a
financial strain, and the following year I asked my mortgage company for
a modification of the loan under the Making Home Affordable Program.
Around that time I filed for bankruptcy protection. This all came about
in 2009. I ended up signing a contract that specified the interest
would be 2-1/2 percent for two yeas, and would increase to 4.5 percent
for the remainder of the 30-mortgage.
I
struggled along for another year, continuing to seek employment and
bearing witness to the economic freefall. Then on my 67th birthday, I
met Rolf, a retired physician who lived half an hour away. After dating
for a while, we agreed that I would rent out my house and move in with
him while applying for a mortgage re-modification a second time. Within
a short period of time, CitiMortgage employees told me my income was too low, that
if I could get a job or acquire some other means of income, I would
probably qualify for a re-modification. [I had hoped for some loan
"forgiveness" because 1) my income was comparatively low, and 2) $30,000
of the mortgage represented closing costs related to three separate
re-financings. But that wasn't even considered.] That's when I decided
to place an ad in the local newspaper to rent out the house for at
least a year at $1800 monthly. Maybe then Citi would lower the interest
rate, at least for a while longer.
After only two
responses from the ad, I decided to rent to Gary B. despite red flags
waving all around. He signed a lease agreement and I mailed a copy to
CitiMortgage. They then informed me my income was too high! I'm still angry at the way I was jerked around by them.
It
looked I could never get ahead of the game. And I think it was a game
for the bankers; something like "Lets see if we can wear him/her down."
The tenant stopped paying rent after a few months,
and I filed eviction papers. At the last minute he came up with $8,000
in back rent and begged me to let him and his family stay. Reluctantly,
I said yes. A few months later, he stopped making payments again, and I
filed for eviction a second time. It took four months, a lot of
stress, and money I didn't have to get him and his family out of the
house. I couldn't afford a lawyer and had to do all the legal work
myself - filing the initial complaint and subsequent motions and
orders. My legal secretarial background helped as well as my knowledge
(albeit somewhat limited) of the court system. I found out later Gary
had been in prison for possession of stolen property - and other crimes.
On
April 4, 2012, the county deputy sheriffs and I entered my house.
Everyone was gone and so was a lot of my furniture, including all five
of my beds. I was surprised he didn't take the light fixtures. The
place was a mess!
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