A year after moving into her white brick house in suburban Robbinsdale, Jennifer Gaines got a letter that turned her life upside down.
She was facing foreclosure -- even though she was current on her monthly payments. She was also about to lose the $25,000 she paid on the home because the seller, who was responsible for paying the mortgage, had gone bankrupt.
Gaines bought the property through an unusual, but increasingly common, option known as "contract for deed." Unlike a traditional home sale, the transactions typically take place with no bank, no Realtor, no appraisal -- and little government oversight.
Instead, the seller finances the sale and then collects monthly payments, much like a landlord.
Across the Twin Cities, many homes sold through contract for deed have been beset by inflated prices, high interest rates and other terms that almost guarantee the buyer will default, according to a Star Tribune investigation of 1,330 such deals dating back to 2007.
In hundreds of cases, records show, sellers failed to provide mandated home inspections that would have revealed code violations and safety hazards. Some buyers said they were misled about outstanding debts attached to the properties. Others thought they were signing a lease.
"This is the first place that ever felt like home to me, and now I have to move," Gaines said. "I was so naive."
In the aftermath of the housing market crash, contract-for-deed sales in the metro area have soared more than 50 percent in the past five years, as families with low income or bad credit are lured by the promise of homeownership.
"There is a lot of abuse out there," said Connie Sandberg, who oversees St. Paul's housing sale inspections. "People are being victimized."
Regulators in several cities said they are alarmed by the Star Tribune's findings and frustrated by their inability to do more to protect buyers. Local officials are vowing to push state legislators this year to require greater disclosure from sellers.
"They are clearly taking advantage of a certain segment of the population that needs housing," said Kellie Jones, manager of Minneapolis' problem properties unit.
The purchase price can be twice what the property is worth, records show. On average, contract-for-deed sales were about 10 percent above the estimated market value as set by county assessors.
To get a handle on the growing business, Minneapolis officials recently began their own examination of contract sales. They believe many rental property owners are using contracts for deed as a way to avoid maintenance rules, shifting the cost of expensive repairs onto their buyers. Indeed, hundreds of contract sales in the Twin Cities involve former rental properties, many with a history of problems.
"People are signing a contract for deed and thinking it is a synonym for a lease, and they don't recognize the seriousness of what they are agreeing to," said Henry Reimer, assistant director of regulatory services for Minneapolis.
Many properties were sold again after buyers defaulted, allowing sellers to pocket down payments ranging from $1,000 to $25,000, plus any monthly payments already collected.
Investor Ron Folger sold 16 rental properties on contract for deed after losing his rental license in Minneapolis in 2011. During a recent interview, he said a contract for deed allows him to earn money on his properties without the meddling of city government.
In at least 370 cases, the sellers in contracts for deed failed to provide mandatory inspections that would detail existing code violations, such as faulty wiring or other problems.
Folger did not provide an inspection in 11 of 16 sales.
Many buyers said they didn't even know they were entitled to them. Sylvia Dominguez bought a house in late 2011 from Folger, only to find out that her home had a broken furnace, malfunctioning dishwasher and leaking bathroom.
Folger, who obtained a Realtor's license, said he didn't know he was required to provide disclosure reports. "I want to make money, but I don't want to do it on the blood of other people," he said.
Though the evaluations are required for all real estate sales in many cities, they are especially critical in contract-for-deed sales because buyers do not usually hire an inspector. Sellers are supposed to obtain the reports from a licensed evaluator and conspicuously post them on the property.
City officials said they are skeptical that any seller of rental property is unaware of the disclosure requirements. "They are just trying to dump a problem on somebody else," Jones said. "They know what the rules are."
College football in its big-time, money-printing configuration has always been a tremendously sleazy endeavor, rivaling the worst of the music business and Hollywood, yet masked in the All-American wholesomeness of amateur student athletes playing for love of the game.
And, to be sure, there are some great stories and more than enough kids playing these games for the right reasons. And at the smaller schools, there are coaches and staff members who are dedicated to their profession wholly, working with young people to mold them while helping them succeed at the game they all love.
But the small percentage of super programs in football drives the machine, and that is one dedicated not to students and sportsmanship, but of cutthroat policies engineered to keep the business booming.
On New Year's Eve, I spent most of the night with friends watching Clemson hang on and eventually upset LSU in the former Peach Bowl. I say former, of course, because a chicken sandwich purveyor with questionable priorities now sponsors it. But that bowl is one of the top earning bowls outside of the BCS, giving schools more than $3 million in 2011, and that pales in comparison to what schools will earn for making one of the five BCS bowls.
Notre Dame and Alabama, who will square off in the BCS Championship on Monday night, will likely take home more than $20 million for their featured spot in the biggest bowl.
This doesn't fully get into the bonuses built in for coaches and staff for reaching and subsequently winning these bowls, the resources and allocations needed from the academic institutions they represent, and the innate pressure on football programs to succeed in this climate.
That pressure is where the seediness of college football truly blossoms. Coaches do whatever they can within the rules and skirt them as often as possible to recruit talent. Coaches jump to new schools and the NFL as soon as they can, or hold their current schools hostage for more money. Penn State's Bill O'Brien will stay at the school after getting a reported $1.3 million tacked on to his salary after interviewing with the Browns. Les Miles from LSU pulls this same trick whenever Michigan has a coaching vacancy.
Meanwhile, schools jump conferences and poach coaches whenever possible. The highest-tiered athletes position themselves for success. It's survival of the fittest, masked as a cause for the greater good, a pure antidote for the pro game.
But this all carries on, and it does because of the athletes on the field, because of talented coaches with creative game schemes, because the games themselves are, admittedly, thrilling at their best. In the Sugar Bowl, Louisville scored the biggest win in the history of their program with an upset of Florida. Louisville is jumping from the dying Big East to the ACC, after the ACC lost Maryland to the Big Ten, by the way.
No comments:
Post a Comment