Statistics lost to emotions

Fate isn't always a good neighbor. And when someone so close to home becomes a victim of the economy due to job loss, thus the inability to keep up with mortgage payments, statistics are lost to emotions.

My next-door neighbors walked away from their home two months ago.

Cris, Hilda, their son Andy and Hilda's brother KoKo, moved from Tampa to Spring Hill shortly after I moved into my home in July 2005. Both of our homes were investment properties commissioned by an attorney at a law firm in Tampa. Between the two homes, the investor made what to most us would be a sizable fortune, but that was pretty much the norm four years ago.

From the many times that Hilda and I had spoken, I was aware that at some point Cris' daughter from a previous marriage and granddaughter would be joining them from Cuba and KoKo would be seeking a place of his own. Therefore, when I saw the rental truck on a Sunday morning, I assumed this to be the case.

It wasn't until the next day that another neighbor, one known for window snooping from behind closed curtains, brought to my attention that the truck had made multiple trips to and from some unknown location.

That's when I noticed a few shrubs had been removed and the porch was barren of its furnishings. The reason was evident. I decided right then to maintain the front yard for appearances' sake. As I was trimming the patch of green, green grass above the septic tank, Cris happened to drive up. He gave me the lowdown.

Not surprisingly, they were unable to meet their mortgage obligation. Even two years ago Cris had told me of their personal financial challenges due to the downturn in the economy. Among other cost-cutting measures, they had removed sinkhole coverage from their homeowner insurance.

Prior to abandoning their home, the previous four months had been spent trying to refinance their loan to lessen the burden of the $1,600 monthly mortgage payment; the best the lender could offer was a mere reduction of $63 per month. Therefore, they walked. Cris would be sending the house keys to the lender the next morning.

And yet, as we talked, Cris was his usual cheerful self, perhaps even more so. A large financial burden had been lifted from their lives. As renters, their housing expenses are hundreds of dollars less per month. Applying a bit of math, minus property taxes and home insurance costs, yearly savings will be thousands of dollars. Adding to Andy's college fund is now feasible.

What used to be their home is empty with little prospect of being occupied any time soon. The upgrades they had made to the home, including an above-ground swimming pool and cedar decking, will one day be part of someone else's dream.

The inside of the house is a showplace. Impressed with the wall-to-wall, room-to-room tile flooring, two years ago I commissioned Cris, a self-employed tile tradesman, to replace the unsightly kitchen linoleum and the heavily soiled hallway carpeting in my home with ceramic tile. Of Cris' creation, the tasteful design in the entryway compliments his expert workmanship. Although I had given him a couple of fruitful referrals, the inevitable was only delayed.

Hilda recently stopped by to wish Happy Holidays. We hadn't talked since before they moved; she had been too upset to discuss having to leave her home.

She told me that the lender has since been in contact to discuss options that might avoid finalizing the foreclosure process. The offer was too late and totally pointless.

I decided to continue to trim the bushes and mow the front yard next door for appearance's sake. For neighborhood security. For surrounding property values. For whatever time frame.

But, by sheer coincidence, this past Saturday the sounds of a generator and the pounding of hammers came from the back yard of the newly vacated house. A crew of two were draining the swimming pool and constructing a wooden frame that would be placed over the pool with a thick sheet of plastic stapled down and then further secured with wire fencing.

I was relieved to know the little girls next door wouldn't become an ultimate fatality of the affects of the recession.

Although the lender's name wasn't given, I was also glad to know that the bank had hired the crew to do all yard and property maintenance.