Foreclosed Homeowners Go to Court on Their Own
By David Streitfeld
The New York Times
February 2, 2011
ALBUQUERQUE — Saving
your home from foreclosure is increasingly a do-it-yourself
project.
Lawyers are scarce and
free legal assistance is overwhelmed in New Mexico, so a
community center here is offering an hourlong class in how to
download the correct forms, decipher the lingo and mount a
defense, however tentative and primitive, against a
multibillion-dollar bank.
"I don’t see success
for someone like me who doesn’t understand the law," said Skylar
Perea, a senior care aide who fell behind on her payments during
the eight months she was out of a job. "But it’s better than
nothing."
In New Mexico, New
York, Florida and the 20 other states where foreclosures require
a judge’s approval, homeowners in default have traditionally
surrendered their homes without ever coming to court to defend
themselves. (In the 27 other states, including California,
Nevada and Arizona, homeowners have a much harder time
contesting a foreclosure even if they want to.)
That passivity has
begun to recede. While many foreclosures are still unopposed,
courts are seeing a sharp rise in cases where defendants show up
representing themselves.
One factor driving the
increase is the changing nature of foreclosure.
When people went into
default in 2008, it was generally because of the exploding cost
of a subprime loan. Unable or unwilling to handle sharply higher
payments, the homeowner walked away with little protest.
Now many defaults are
prompted by stretches of unemployment like Ms. Perea’s. These
owners do not have the resources to come up with all their
missed payments at once. But if they can persuade their lender
to restructure the loan instead of seizing the house, they have
a chance of staying put.
In New Mexico, this is
where the hourlong workshops come in. "When you cannot pay, this
is called ‘a breach of contract,’ " Angelica Anaya Allen,
director of the nonprofit Fair Lending Center, explained to a
small but diverse group one recent morning.
Young and old, solo and
in couples, the homeowners in Ms. Anaya Allen’s class were all
in breach, clutching special-delivery packages from their
lenders announcing that the machinery was now engaged to evict
them. They took notes, asked questions — is the courthouse the
building on Fourth Street with the blue roof? — and were
resolute if not quite eager for battle.
"I’m not sure where I
stand, but I just don’t want to let the house go," said Ms.
Perea.
The legal challenges
that she and the other students will make are slowing the
foreclosure process. Over the last year, the average delinquency
for a foreclosed loan rose to 499 days from 406 days, according
to the data firm LPS Applied Analytics. But they are also
straining the courts and often encouraging unreal expectations.
Louis McDonald, the
chief judge for New Mexico’s 13th Judicial District, welcomes
the influx of homeowners defending themselves, known as pro se
defendants.
"They really want to
stay in their houses," he said. "Some of them have fairly
legitimate defenses."
But the law grows more
complex as the cases proceed, and foreclosure still looms for
those who do not grasp its intricacies. "The system is failing
those who can’t afford representation," Mr. McDonald said.
The 13th District
surrounds Albuquerque on three sides and includes Sandoval
County, which has the highest foreclosure rate in the state.
Nearly half of the 100 new foreclosure defendants flooding the
court every month are there on their own. There are so many of
these defendants, and they need so much help understanding the
law in a small, overburdened court, that last year Mr. McDonald
instituted regular meetings overseen by himself and the
district’s two other judges. Volunteer lawyers were on hand to
advise the defendants, and the bank lawyers were required to
attend.
It was, in effect, a
court within the court. But the program used a lot of resources
for an uncertain result, so it is being replaced by a less
comprehensive clinic. The real solution, Mr. McDonald said,
would be "more legal aid."
That is a common
refrain in court systems that have been successful in reaching
out to the foreclosed. Before 2008 in New York, for instance,
about 90 percent of foreclosure defendants never appeared before
a judge. It was,
a recent report by the
court system said, a "paper process" and not a people process.
Then the state
legislature directed that the court system hold mandatory
settlement conferences to encourage the bank and the homeowner
to reach a resolution. More than three-quarters of defendants
now come to court, about 32,000 in the first 10 months of last
year. But only 12,000 had a lawyer. The rest were in charge of
their own fate.
"We’re getting the
people in here, getting them to the table with the bank, but I
don’t know what happens to these cases long term," said Paul
Lewis, chief of staff to New York’s chief administrative judge.
"Many of the homeowners would do much better with an attorney."
The courts would be
better off as well. In Suffolk County, foreclosure cases are 40
percent of the civil caseload. Upstate, in Schenectady and
Wyoming counties, they are about half. The New York State
Unified Court System is asking for an additional $25 million a
year to pay for lawyers to represent the poor in civil cases,
including foreclosure. The legislature has yet to approve the
request.
In Albuquerque, the
three lawyers for the Fair Lending Center — a legal aid group
that is paid for by the state — would be happy to see their
financing merely remain the same. But even if it does, they will
not be able to handle all the demand.
Ms. Anaya Allen started
offering the foreclosure workshops last spring, at a point when
she and her colleagues simply could not take on any new cases.
"It was the only
alternative: give people the tools to help themselves," she
said.
Other legal aid groups
across the country have been forced to consider do-it-yourself
classes. For the
Legal Aid Society of
Southwest Ohio, demand for foreclosure help rose 51 percent
between May and November last year. "People realized they could
fight back," said Mark Lawson, a senior lawyer with the
nonprofit.
Financing has not kept
pace. At any moment, Mr. Lawson has a dozen or so files on his
desk — people who qualify for help but will not get it from him.
When he calls and says his lawyers are too busy to take on
another case, some homeowners get angry. Others are grateful
that at least someone cared.
Mr. Lawson is skeptical
that self-help clinics are a solution. "We have overwhelmed
judges and impossible lenders," he said. "It’s hard enough for
lawyers to deal with them."
In the Albuquerque
class, Ms. Anaya Allen does not promise a happy ending. "At the
end of the day, unless you have major defenses, it’s likely the
court will make a finding of foreclosure," she said.
Norma Canales and her
boyfriend, Saul Valdez, were merely hoping for a little leverage
against their lender. They fell into default when Ms. Canales
got divorced and her husband stopped making house payments.
"We were working with
the bank, trying to work something out, and now suddenly we’re
in foreclosure," said Mr. Valdez, 39. The couple never realized
they could represent themselves in court. "It gives you," he
said, "some sort of hope."
[Index to Articles]