Foreclosed is Forewarned

Tax Foreclosures on 10,000 Occupied Detroit Properties will Displace Thousands

On Monday, U.S. Bankruptcy Judge Steven Rhodes made a landmark decision to authorize continued water shutoffs for unpaid water bills, leaving thousands of Detroiters without access to water. At the same time, though less reported, some 20,000 Detroit residents stand to lose another basic human right — their housing — as the Wayne County Treasurer prepares to carry out mass tax foreclosures across the city.

In October, the Wayne County Treasurer will host an online auction to sell properties whose owners owe back taxes. According to the county website, over 26,000 properties are up for auction, over 90% of which are in Detroit.

Of these, 23,000 made it into Round 2 – where auction prices start at a mere $500. These aren’t just empty lots and vacant buildings; rather, an estimated 10,000 are occupied properties, which means that at least 20,000 people face imminent eviction.

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Unopened Tax Foreclosure notice on an abandoned house in Detroit’s Littlefield neighborhood. Motor City Mapping indicated that nearly half of the properties in this neighborhood (3,840) are unoccupied.

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Preview: 2014 Detroit Foreclosure Auction

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This week, 24,000 Detroit properties that owe taxes to the city will begin the process of being auctioned off to the highest bidder. The annual event takes on a greater meaning this year as it is running concurrently with Detroit’s bankruptcy trial which also began this week. The auction is the personal version of the city’s financial troubles, showing on-the-ground evidence of the individual struggles which resulting in people’s inability to pay for their property. Looking at the map of foreclosed parcels gives a powerful image of economic disparity — the concentration of foreclosures in neighborhoods like Warrendale is shockingly high, while Corktown boasts a whopping total of Zero. Interested buyers have the chance to purchase a piece of Detroit for what are often very reasonable prices.

The auction is based on property parcels, which may include homes, apartment complexes, commercial buildings and even empty lots in various states of care or disrepair. Most of these properties have buildings on them, and many of those buildings are homes to the current owners, renters, and in some cases, squatters.

The annual foreclosure auction is a powerful force of change for a number of reasons. It offers a burst of revenue for a city that sorely needs it. It encompasses the dream of home ownership for many who could not otherwise afford it. It draws the attention of outside investors with an optimistic view of Detroit. And it also represents a devastating blow to those who face displacement when the place they own or rent is no longer theirs to call home.

The Numbers
The numbers here are absolutely daunting and the reality of what they represent is even more so. After this auction, the Detroit Land Bank Authority will own approximately 100,000 properties. Many of those are too undesirable (think fire-charred blighted homes, dumping sites, entire empty blocks) to even be included in this auction. The properties that are included make up the sub-set of more viable properties (a relative term) that the city has a chance to recoup some money on, and to have taken off their hands.

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How It Works
Round 1 of the auction runs from today, September 4, through Wednesday, September 24. During this period, bidding prices start at whatever amount is owed in property taxes. Any properties that are unsold after this round will go up for auction again in Round 2 which begins in mid-October, where bidding will start at only $500. The bidding for an individual parcel happens over a 2-week period, so properties released for auction today will not fully close until September 17th.

Timing for the bidding is based on batches- groups of 125 properties grouped together by Zip Code. Each batch is released for bidding at staggered 15-minute intervals throughout a week-long period. Some of the most coveted neighborhoods are up for bidding first, including Brush Park, which has drawn a lot of real-estate attention with the announcement of the expanded “sports district” in the area.

Most of the bidding will take place at the end of the two-week period, when the feeding frenzy of last-minute wagers come in. A similar process happened in the final hours before the auction itself, as current owners scrambled to sell or pay off properties before they were foreclosed.IMG_4271

Your Role
If you even think you might be interested in participating, register with the Wayne County Treasurer, there is no cost to register, just to bid. Research the property in advance before you purchase, hidden fees, renovation costs and complications with potential existing residents justifiably make these properties more expensive than their initial price tag. And if you do buy, congratulations, good luck!

 

Resources
Information, Registration, and Bidding: Wayne County Treasurer
Detailed assessment on each property Why Don’t We Own This?

Stationary

IMG_4252Under my bed is a box filled with notes.

Precious letters, far-flung postcards and silly valentines
accumulated over the years
from family, friends, exes, and former strangers.

Before even reading their words, I feel the pinch of yearning-
from the sight of someone’s handwriting, the postmark of a former home
a name that doesn’t get said any more.

They are time-stamps on old emotions.
But joyful or painful, every letter written is a snapshot of a truth:
“Somebody cared for me once.”

Beside these letters sent are cards-on-deck
blank notecards, fresh stamps, and undressed envelopes
waiting for an emotion strong enough to conjure them up
and spill out on them in ink.

After I’m done with nostalgia
I may notice those blank cards
and pick up my pen,
to send a pocket of feeling back out to someone I care for right now.

Then I stow them back beneath the place that I sleep.
Where they will sit
stationary, the sentiments of the future wait to be written,
keeping still with my old loves gone by.

the oral tradition

sunsetMom is the musical one. She is colors and love and sweetness and children. Dad is the serious one. He is authority and logic and responsibility and adults. They both worry, in their own way. Dad’s are generally considered to be more founded, even if they often seem to lack emotional content. For a long time, I have been Daddy’s girl. Even before Mom was pregnant with me, he chose my name, and then when I was born, it was on his birthday. So we are bound together in more than just the usual way. Growing up, I often considered myself to be the closest-thing-he-has-to-a-son. though my burden has been somewhat reduced since my sisters started getting married to burly men who better fill the role.

Dad and I often would go on long rough bike rides. I, strong, would pass him on the uphill, but he, braver, would pass me on the way down. We watched sports together. He helped me with my physics homework. When I went to college, I studied Mechanical Engineering, just like he had. It felt like the right thing to do, the respectable and logical thing.

For 4 ½ years and beyond, I utterly denied the other part of me that Mom represented. Continue reading

f* the loophole

crazeFor a few days it was just Mom and Dad and the three unwed sisters.

It’s strange for me to be back in this category. I was the first of the sisters to get married, 7 years ago. The divorce was long enough ago that it doesn’t seem utterly bizarre that He’s not here, but it takes some adjusting to be back in the kiddy table, Dad paying for my meals when the family eats out together, riding up in the same car as my parents.

One sister would be coming later with her husband and child, but one sister would not be coming at all. We don’t blame her, it occurred to us not to come too, but family is like a currency system that requires mutual agreement to maintain its value. Too many absences show a lack of consumer confidence and people start wanting to come late and leave early and there is general grumbling about going back to the Gold Standard. Basically, we who are present can’t help but bear a slight resentment to those who are absent. Her punishment will not be deliberate, but there will probably be one-tenth fewer phone calls per sister over the next few months which, if amplified over time, could mean a dramatic difference in long term filial contact. Continue reading

hitchin’ a sail

hitchsailWe walked out to the pier and looked out over the freezing Lake Michigan water 10 feet below. I am afraid of jumping off of things. I can look down over the ledge of a tall building and fly in an airplane and climb a mountain without fear, but the act of willfully letting my feet leave the earth just happens to terrify me. I have been known to freeze up on diving boards, 18 measly inches above water.

This time, it wasn’t so hard. With the 3..2..1 countdown, there was no time to worry. With my sisters to synchronize with, I couldn’t fret and wait and stall and stress. Mom loves when her girls are together. She likes it even more when we let her take pictures of us. She likes it even more when we include her. We pressured her to jump in with us. She agreed. Then, as mothers and fathers and daughters do, I immediately began worrying about the consequences of our suggestion. What if it’s too cold for mom and the water shocks her and she can’t swim and it’s all our fault and she knew better but caved in to the pressure of her three demanding daughters? We jumped together, weeeee!

The three sisters surfaced first and stared at the water where we expected her to be. She took a few worrisome seconds too long to come up out of the water. Everything was fine.

Exhilarated and cold, we made our way farther down the pier to sit and watch the water traffic along the canal. A “boat parade” Mom called it. She has a way seeing the world that allows me to imagine the impossible act of knowing my own mother when she was a kid. It is the gift of a woman who has spent so much of her adult life with children. It made the slow-moving boats trudging through the canal into a sort of a celebration.

From our perch, I told everyone about my half-serious life goal to hitchhike on a sailboat. We joked about how awkward it would be for the people on board, what a gamble it is to accept a ride from someone that you can’t even see, and where on earth they would take you if it all worked.

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but also in blueberrying

blueberryingApparently, I am very good at blueberry picking. I always try to challenge myself to take joy out of things that I’m not good at but it is undeniably more enjoyable what I have a god-given knack for it. Yes, even if the talent is for something as insignificant as this. I like blueberry picking. It reminds me of a socially-acceptable version of my bad habit of picking at my split ends. Maybe I have a natural inner energy that tells me that my hands should be busy, and in the absence of berry patches and weaving looms, my productivity displaces itself onto the ends of my hair.

When we arrived to the patch the first rows thrilled us- so many blueberries! My sisters started plucking immediately. A berry here, a berry there, pluck-plunk-pluck-plunk. I stood beside them, looking down the aisle. Why have they paused already? I wondered. For though I could not see it, I felt certain that there would be more berries farther on. I called out “A fool is she who will accept what is nearest rather than what is best.” “In matters of the heart?” they wondered. “Yes. But also in blueberrying.”  Continue reading

this is what it feels like

1.a. I have never liked myself so much. I have never enjoyed my own company to the point that I catch a wave of ever-escalating appreciation and joy at my own thoughts. I love my life. I am starting to think broad expansive idea about the possible implications. If I have found Something that can make me feel like this, then my problems are all gone. I have no problems. They are all cured. I will never be unsatiated. I will never run out of constantly replenishing ideas to think of or write down. My days will be filled with constant agonizing decisions over which are worthy of being written. Time is the only limiting factor. The line between ideas for things to do and things to do has, in a dramatic way, taken an upward slope. In this new life I will not be able to drive a car or maintain a serious relationship because I am so intensely in the moment, but it literally won’t matter because I will be so joyful about the remaining contents of my life- the enhanced contents of my life. By withdrawing I will expand because my words will reach more people than my presence ever could.

Closing Thoughts

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Mom, Grandma and I drove back in less than two days. It was almost insulting to look out the window and see the great distance I had so laboriously covered roll by so quickly. I immediately chaffed against the new dynamic wherein I was not in control and had to make constant conversation. Grandma sensed that I wasn’t feeling talkative, and even her suggestion of “quiet time” turned into a discussion on the merits of silence. I drove the whole way to retain some semblance of power. Continue reading

From Leelenau to Keweenaw

Over the past 6 weeks I have backpacked across northern Michigan along the North Country Trail. I walked from the Leelenau to the Keweenaw Peninsula- the end of the road- ultimately covering over 700 miles on foot by myself.

It was an amazing trip, and I am so proud, so thrilled to be done. For weeks on end I did not see a single familiar face, and many days passed where I saw no one at all. Without anyone to experience them with, most of these memories are mine alone. But I know that my time out on the trail has made an indelible mark on who I am and that I will always look back on this and an important part of my life. Here are some pictures I took of myself along the way, sometimes to substitute for a mirror when I hadn’t seen my own face in a long time, and sometimes just to remind myself later of where I was and what I did there.NCT Selfie Collage


Next Entry: Closing Thoughts

Previous Entry: Day 45: the end of the road