Four years ago I was homeless: living out of a car. Not even
my car. Not even one car. I lived out of any car or house or hotel I could weasel
my way into, and I sold drugs to feed my habit while I awaited my sentencing
that would eventually lead me through prison and treatment where I made the
choices that lead me to today.
Four years ago I could not comprehend the thought of me
owning a home, or even having the wherewithal to start even thinking about the
process of buying a home. Today I took the first big leap toward the biggest of
investments in Maple Lake at Wright County Community Action where I sat through
eight hours of information and lectures.
It was very personal, and I felt like they treated me as if
I were the only person in the room. In fact, I was the only person that showed
up on the student side of things. As the day progressed, a mortgage expert, a
real-estate agent, an, uh…. title-insurance-closer-deed-guy thing, and a
homebuyer advisor, took turns tailoring their information and advice to my
situation. I was honest in what I was interested in and gave them some insight
into my past and my credit and it went back and forth and it all moved unbelievably
fast and I felt incredibly relieved and inspired when I left. I thought this
class would fill me with fear and anxiety, but I left with confidence that I
can be in my own home in under a year. Well, I have to be or this certificate
expires and I have to do the class again to qualify for certain loans and
down-payment assistance.
This array of paperwork has every bit of material that we
covered and more. If you think it looks like a lot, it is. It’s a lot to wrap
my head around, and it seems like a lot of people want my money, but it also
appears that there may be some free money around for me to apply for. The First
speaker said that somewhere in the neighborhood of seventy people are involved
in the home-buying process—not all of them visible—and they all get a little
cut. Shit.
As always, I want this to
reach the struggling addict or alcoholic who doesn’t think there’s a way out or
hope for the future. I’m doing all of this less than three years out of prison.
When I got out I started working at a laminating factory for $10 per-hour, and
I lived with my mom. I kept my head down and I ran hard, and I never stopped. I
kept going to meetings, kept meeting with my sponsor, and traded-up my job
twice for something I loved and I just kept moving forward. It was a lot of
hard work, but none of it was as tough as living out of cars and hotels, giving
away my dignity and my pride.
I’m sick of paying rent. I want something I can call my own.
Well, our own. Although Amanda wasn’t with me today at the workshop, she will be a
part of everything else moving forward--I hope. We will be meeting soon with a mortgage
broker who will assess our finances and combined income and credit to
pre-qualify us for an amount we can work with to start searching for our home.
For now, as we discussed for the first hour of the class, I
need to draw up a savings and budget plan and stick to it. We need to do that. We
are not in that great of shape financially, but they will still lend me
hundreds of thousands of dollars and that’s kind of scary. I am capable of
turning that $200k into $43 real quick-like with some old habits. Today is the
first day of the rest of my life in which I am more responsible economically
(said the guy with a $2,500 tattoo commitment.) But I have it in me to set and
follow plans and goals, and as long as Amanda is on board, we will do well. I
know this.
