Soledad Aviles dreamed for years of owning a home, with a plot of land where he could grow corn and chiles as he did in his native Mexico. So he felt blessed last year when he learned he could buy a three-bedroom, single-story stucco house on West La Verne Avenue in Santa Ana.
Referred to a local loan broker by a trusted friend, he borrowed the entire purchase price of $615,000 from Washington Mutual at a high interest rate typical of sub-prime loans. The monthly payment, as he says he understood it, would be $3,600 -- steep for a glass cutter who made $9 an hour -- but Aviles counted on his wife and three of his six daughters, who also worked low-paying jobs, to contribute.
"We took out our pencils, figured out our take-home pay and figured out that if we all pitched in, it would work," said Aviles, 54, a stoop-shouldered, soft-spoken man with a sixth-grade education from Mexico.
Relying on the broker's word, he signed loan documents written in English, a language he neither speaks nor reads, Aviles said. He was shocked to learn afterward that the monthly payment would not be $3,600, but $4,800 -- a price that forced him to rent out bedrooms, the garage and an enclosed porch while he and his wife slept on the couch. He fed his family with food from friends and corn he grew.
Aviles says he was not aware that the February 2006 loan application he signed dramatically exaggerated his family's income. The application lists him as the owner of a landscaping business with a $7,400 monthly income. His 27-year-old daughter Marlene, who earns $9 an hour in a noodle factory, appears as the owner of a housecleaning company who makes $5,700 a month. The application lists their yearly income as $157,000, when, according to Aviles, it was really closer to $60,000.
Now, five months behind on his payments, Aviles is scrambling to sell the house before the bank forecloses. Desperately ill from kidney disease and unable to work for the last year, he sits dejectedly at the dining room table, wondering when the bank will kick him out.
Aviles' situation is hardly unique. Add his name to the ever-expanding list of casualties in the nationwide sub-prime mortgage debacle, his experience echoing that of thousands who bought homes in recent years only to find themselves in a sagging market saddled with payments they cannot make.
