What banks that received CARES ACT monies own the mortgages and auxiliary agencies that manage the homes and businesses of renters and owners who are looking at eviction and foreclosure?
We need to take action against them. NOW. Billionaires got bailed out. We, the people, are being left high and dry. No one should be put out on the street in a pandemic in winter in America. Not a one. No one should lose what they worked hard to attain because the government shut us down in a pandemic.
We are in pandemic. Where is the government support? Where is the support our taxes should be supporting rather than them financing golfing trips, expensive dinners, lavish ice-cream freezers?
We need to make the banks uncomfortable. We need to make our elected officials uncomfortable. We need to make them pay attention to us and to respond to us right now. Banks got trillions. We are hungry. Elected officials are working at our behest. We are hungry. We are hungry and about to be put out on the street, some of us losing what we worked a lifetime to attain.
We, as a class, need to take action to stall out this eviction crisis in the current context. The people need to stand together. We are the precariat. We are the working poor. We are the middle class. We are those who live paycheck to paycheck. We are those who receive money in exchange for our labor, be it manual or mental. We are the redundant.
We better wake up and take a stand.
The longest year has actually lasted 18 months and then some. It all started on Earth Day, 2016, when my mom (of blessed memory) laid a tree limb on top of my home. I was sitting in the house, in the bedroom, near Mom’s sewing corner. I heard the limb crack and waited for the whoosh that follows the falling limb when it falls from a height. This time, there was no whoosh, only a thud as the mighty limb laid itself down on my roof and across the two adjacent on the east side of my home.
I dashed outta there like a house afire and immediately called my insurance company, Safeco. It took them more than a week to respond. The first adjuster was corrupted by MGC Mortgage, the mortgage servicing company that has claimed to hold a mortgage on my property since 2003. Actually, Beal Bank made that claim. I never heard of Beal Bank until probate closed and they started sending me threats to sell my property without notice because they held a Trust Deed.
How do you fight a bank that claims to hold a Trust Deed on your property that was never mentioned in probate? In fact, no claims were made against my mother’s estate, and the only concern of the Court was whether or not I had paid the property taxes. MGC Mortgage paid the property taxes once they were raised too high for me to pay. They opened up an escrow account to gain access to my property when they had no right to do so because they really did not possess a Trust Deed. But the threats were real enough, so I went to a bankruptcy attorney because bankruptcy is the only way to stop a foreclosure, or so I was told.
About six months into this bk, I received payment for the repair of my home. I told my attorney, took him the first check and told him another would follow soon. He copied the check and told me to mail it to MGC, as their name was on the check because they claimed to be a lienholder. Then, the attorney allowed MGC Mortgage and Beal Bank to take the money without putting it into a draw account so that the repairs to my home could commence. Several months later I discovered my attorney never submitted the payment information to the Court, who sent me notice of dismissal for failure to make payments. I wrote the Court directly to tell them I had paid, dearly, and did not understand why the Court was unaware of the payments. MGC Mortgage/Beal Bank corrupted my attorney. He kept the bankruptcy open to collect his fees. I objected, told the Court my story, and his fees were denied, the bankruptcy dismissed.
By this time, my insurance company had moved me to longterm temporary housing. I was only supposed to be there about six months. Turns out I was there 18 months. Nothing recommends living at the beach if you seek quiet. I was housed next door to a senior assisted living facility. The sirens blare two, three times a day and night. Very disturbing and disheartening for me, the living. The apartment itself was 1970s stock, poorly insulated, dusty, dirty in that deep-down dirty that comes of years of use without serious upgrade. Way too much money was paid to house me in that space, but as I am not the moving kind, I sucked it up and stayed. I remained inside for the majority of time I was there. I could go onto the balcony to look at the sea, but there was not much to inspire a need to go out and walk amongst the smokers, the homeless, the stuck-up rich folks, or the neverending dogs. These people are so dog happy they bring the beasts into markets, put them in shopping carts and on check-out counters, and nary a word is said to them. What happened to the law? None of these pocket pooches were service dogs, but employees of the stores are forbidden to even ask if a dog is a service animal. No concern for people allergic to dogs, no protection in the places we have to purchase our food. You are welcome to the beach and the inconsiderate, snotty wankers who live there. (To be fair, I did get to know a few of the people in the complex in which I was housed. They were kind, kept to themselves, and were remotely friendly.)
What I am doing here is writing out my rage. About three months ago, I asked my current insurance claim adjuster about the funds in my account. Nearly $50K was stolen. She told me she would give me the info once she was back in the office, and then proceeded to say nothing for two months. Instead of answering my question, she gave me a final extension on my housing and told me my home was ready for me to move into. When I arrived at my address, I found a mound of dirt in the front yard, a mound of dirt and an open trench in the back yard, a palette for a porch and plywood steps leading into my “brand new house.” My 31 year-old, full of fruit, lemon tree was cut down to accommodate a driveway. A garage had been crammed into a space for which it was never meant to be as my lot is angled in the back, a fact the drafter of the plans failed to take into account. The garage is too close to the house and the driveway is also too close to the house. Had the angle of my lot been accounted for, the garage could have been placed in the front, and my lemon tree, all of my flora could have been saved. My yard has been denuded because of an error that occurred at the beginning of this process. To add insult to this massive injury, the County of Los Angeles wants to add foreign trees to my front yard because they are on the plans. The plans also feature a back door, but I am not allowed to have that. My house resembles a coffin and I quite hate it.
I sent video of the condition of the site to Safeco. My adjuster’s supervisor was out; she knew he would be. Finally, after calling for help all morning, on Shabbos, I was connected with her supervisor’s supervisor. She arranged for an extension of housing, but that would require me to go back to the beach. That had become untenable. So, now I am back in short-term housing at the Residence Inn. And I still have gotten no information about the funds remaining to complete the project. I feel like I am being managed, and that I am being forced to return to the coffin before all work is completed.
I want my adjuster fired, like the first one was. I wonder if Safeco has any agents I can trust. I am absolutely furious about the gaslighting and abuse I have experienced over this, the longest year of my life. Hope I survive.
Beal Bank told the FDIC that they did not file foreclosure against me. So, why is their name on the final tote?