When you go into foreclosure, the mortgage holder stops dealing with you. Instead, you deal with a foreclosure company. This appears to be a bunch of lawyers too unskilled to chase ambulances, crammed into a windowless room somewhere in one of those states I never want to visit.
Our first contact with them was the notice taped to our front door. Two days later, the envelopes arrived.
I had to sign for them. There were 16 of them, and I had to sign 16 of those green USPS slips. The mail carrier couldn't meet my eyes. She knew exactly what they were.
Why were there 16? The foreclosure company was covering its bases. Some were addressed only to me, some only to my partner, some to both of us, and some to "Occupant." And they had been sent to both our current address (the one we're losing) as well as to the address of the rental house down the street where we'd lived for a year before buying this house. Given all the permutations of names and addresses meant 16 envelopes.
The contents were nearly identical. Each contained photocopies (no original documents) of an affidavit robo-stamped with some name. Not a signature, a stamp of a signature.
And each contained a "description" of the property under foreclosure. But half of them described the wrong property: acreage in a town a good 70 miles away.
Yes, indeed, we were dealing with a quality organization now!
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