A first hand account of foreclosure

A recent red­dit thread about ques­tion­able jobs revealed an real-estate work­er will­ing to talk about his exper­i­ences fore­clos­ing on homes. He expan­ded his exper­i­ences into a longer post that is elo­quent, emo­tion­ally charged and reveal­ing about the last­ing impact of the glob­al fin­an­cial crisis.

[T]hey can get angry and defens­ive, tell me that they were nev­er fore­closed on, tell me that I am tres­passing and owe them $5,000 in “land use fees” for “using” their prop­erty as I walk to the front door. They threaten to sue, they threaten to call the cops, they say I should look under my car before I start it from now on. They send let­ters writ­ten in vari­ous forms of Eng­lish – one time scribed in cray­on – detail­ing their rights and how I am viol­at­ing some mari­time treaty from the 1700s. In my travels I have learned that if you copy­right your name you can­’t be named in any kind of leg­al action, if you nev­er write down your ZIP code then you aren’t a res­id­ent of the United States and that if I tell some­body that their lender is offer­ing them money to vacate while leav­ing the stair­case (yes, these get stolen) and drive­way (yes, these get stolen) in place then I am guilty of slave trad­ing under some United Nations some­thing or oth­er.

Why my job is to watch dreams die (via the excel­lent NPR Plan­et Money blog)