What’s happening in the Phoenix Valley real estate market today is unprecedented. If you bought a home any
time between 2005 and 2009, chances are you owe more than the home’s worth. It’s painful.
For those who work in real estate, it’s easy to become a little blasé about the devastation that has occurred in our communities, even though it happened to us, too. It’s just the way it is. I started selling homes in Casa Grande, AZ, in 2008, just before the values plummeted. The desert community of around 50,000 people is approximately half way between Phoenix and Tucson – right at the heart of the housing crisis. When I talk to out-of-state buyers about how much the values have dropped they eye me skeptically.
“We heard foreclosures are selling at a 40% discount,” they say. “We want a deal.”
“Everything’s a bargain right now,” I reply. “There’s a fire sale going on.”
The reality is that our market values are now being set by distressed property sales – short sales and foreclosures – and they have been for some time. Rather than the odd foreclosure popping up only to be snagged by a daring investor, the bulk of all the homes bought and sold in the greater Casa Grande area are either bank-owned, or about to be. If you want to sell your home, you either compete with those prices, or you do not sell.
So…how bad is it?
In June, July and August of 2011, distressed closings accounted for 75% of all homes sold in Casa Grande. Values are breathtakingly low. Earlier this year I showed a 2,400 square foot Casa Grande home that sold for $290,000 in December 2005. That same home ended up closing as a bank-owned home for $85,000 in May. Unbelievable? The fact is that this home sold for fair market value, 2011-style. Many buyers can’t fathom this momentous decline in prices until I show them the hard MLS data for a specific home. It’s not like this ‘back home’. In fact, property values in Casa Grande have almost halved in the last six years: the typical home in 2005 sold for $186,000. In 2010 that figure was $102,000.
But if real estate agents are ‘used to it’, the enormity of the losses to our community are felt anew daily by homeowners who have reached the end of their tethers – and their bank balances.
“I’m embarrassed,” said one of my clients as we discussed the short sale of his beautiful home. “We’ve always been on top of our finances. Our credit scores are over 800. How can this happen to us?”
“We’ve been watching the market for years now,” said another client, debating whether to short sale or foreclose. “But we can’t wait any longer. We can’t keep paying $1,700 a month knowing our home is only worth $110,000. Our lives have changed. We don’t want to be here any longer.”
The honest truth is that we, as a community, are in the middle of a monstrous break-up. Our love affair with our homes is coming to an end, and our hearts are breaking.
Of course, it’s a hollow comfort to know that we’re not alone – but we’re not. The average person moves home every seven years, often forced to, by relocation, illness, divorce or a change in family size. Life can change a lot in seven years. In the good old days when real estate was “safe as houses”, you’d simply sell your home and move. Possibly, if it was a really tough market, you might only get back a little more than you paid for it.
For many people in Arizona nowadays, that scenario is just a fantasy.
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How did we get here?
When the foreclosures first started to trickle through, it was a little disconcerting, but that was about it.
I remember listening in on a conversation among experienced agents during my licensing class in 2007. They casually observed that there seemed to be a few more REO sales creeping into the market. Probably nothing to worry about, right?
Wrong.
As the enormity of the situation began to emerge, the obvious scapegoats were the “irresponsible” home owners who’d borrowed more than they could afford and were spoiling it for everyone else. They’d over-leveraged themselves, buying at the peak when the Federal Reserve requirement was low and lending restrictions were non-existent. Loan officers used to joke that if you could fog a mirror you could qualify for a loan. ‘Free money’ was sloshing around everywhere. These buyers had fallen hard for the American Dream, head over heels with their McMansions, giving no thought to the option arm readjusting sometime in the distant future. Why would they? House prices would always go up, and they could refinance then. The honeymoon period was a flirtation of interior design magazines, HGTV and exotic decoration no landlord would have approved.
It gradually became apparent that these reckless zero-downers were not entirely to blame, however. I remember making a phone call myself to a lender in 2006, who assured me that the interest rate was indeed an astonishing and seductive 2%. Not being a REALTOR ® at this point, but knowing just enough to be dangerous, this was hard for me to swallow. “Does this rate adjust?” I asked, firmly. “No ma’am,” I was assured. “That’s just what the rate is.” “But where does the unpaid interest GO?” I insisted, ever the scourge of call centers. “It doesn’t ‘go’ anywhere ma’am. That’s the rate,” he replied, as if I were nuts.
Of course, negative amortization (whereby unpaid interest is added to the loan’s principal), adjustable rates, balloon payments, interest-only and ‘piggy-back’ loans contributed greatly to our current woes. That, and down-right lying on behalf of unscrupulous (or under-trained) lenders under pressure to sell more loans. “Half the people we can supposedly lend to wouldn’t even meet my credit requirements as a tenant,” one lender and landlord confided to me shortly after the crash began.
For the first few years as home prices softened, we were all reluctant to address reality.
“It’ll change,” we told ourselves, rationalizing that with 30 new home builders in a city this size, of course values couldn’t continue their astronomical rise. “This is just a blip. And anyway, a house is a home, not just an investment.”
The builders gradually went away, some filing bankruptcy, some selling off their vacant lots, some holding them to build again at some distant point in the future. With fewer homes to compete for buyers, the market reached a sort of plateau, and everyone breathed a silent sigh of relief. The love affair was back on.
And then prices fell off a cliff.
Now we really started to feel worried. As option arms adjusted, subdivision after subdivision started to sprout its own crop of foreclosures, like weeds after a desert rain. You could almost track each builder’s busy selling period by watching where the bank-owned homes were coming up. If you were crazy enough to follow trends, watching values plunge by several thousand every month was sickening. “We made a commitment, and we’re in this for the long-haul,” we said out loud, between gritted teeth. But in our most quiet moments we shuddered to contemplate how our “greatest assets” – our homes – were losing value by the day.
Today, the “irresponsible”’ homeowners who supposedly started all this with their selfish dreams of home ownership are long gone. Many of them are close to being out of their seven year waiting period to buy another home. The rest of the Valley, the “sensible” buyers who fixed their rates at a place they could afford, are facing a harsh reality. Even if you “did the right thing” and put down 10%, 20% or 30% on a home, you are likely to be “upside down”. You weren’t a sub-prime pariah? It makes no difference. That money you saved up for your down-payment? It’s gone. You added a pool? That money’s gone, too.
Regardless of the magnitude of the capital you sank into upgrades, if your circumstances have changed and you need to sell, you’re likely to be left with two options: you can either short sale, or foreclose.
For most of us this concept is a little tough to embrace. How could our equity have vanished like this, sucked into investment banker bonuses like moisture sucked from the desert soil? This realization is made all the more horrifying because it is happening to everyone. If you’re risk-averse, it’s likely you saw housing as a safe bet. We all did. The savings and loan crisis of the ’80s was far enough away for all of us to feel confident that putting money into property was secure. Ironically enough, we believed it would safeguard our futures.
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The emotional toll
Many people reach the point of deciding to short sale after months of stress and self-loathing. They have exhausted their savings and drained their retirement funds, spent days questioning their decision and nights rowing with their spouse. It’s traumatic.
According to Dr. Peter Lambrou, Chair of Psychology at Scripps Memorial Hospital in La Jolla, California, today's market has created unprecedented levels of seller anxiety that mirror symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder.
"In other times, when people decided they wanted to move, it was a fairly easy exit, usually because they had an intention or desire to move,” he says.“They had positive expectations about where they were going.
"But when people are in distress or upside-down in their house, they're not looking forward to moving, they're doing it to prevent further chaos in their life. So oftentimes, they're abandoning a home that they really had no intention of leaving. That's much different than the typical home sale that people usually experience.”
Clients who’ve had mental breakdowns or even split up with their partners are not unheard of, says Lambrou. He explains that part of the problem can be from sellers “catastrophizing”, whereby they magnify the negativity of the outcome due to the extreme pressure they find themselves under.
"Research has shown that in circumstances of depression and anxiety, people overestimate the threat, the negative outcomes, and underestimate their resources - their job, their family, their social and professional networks," he says.
"When people imagine the worst-case scenario of actually being put on the street, that could imprint as a trauma. So in that regard, it could be on the order of a post-traumatic experience."
According to Lambrou’s definition, that’s an awful lot of people going through an awfully bad time. How can our communities ever recover?
Like any break-up, facing reality is the first step. Putting away the rose-tinted spectacles and recognizing our homes’ real values is essential– although it’s often a rude wake-up call. No wonder it’s so tempting to keep our heads in the sand.
Nevertheless, there’s no escaping the fact that our lost equity is not coming back any time soon. Hoping “things will change” keeps us paralyzed in a state of anxiety which can literally be bad for our health. If you do want to give things “one more chance,” then at least set a time when you’ll revisit your decision. Agonizing over market fluctuations on a daily basis is a slow torture, and it doesn’t help.
Those who decide it’s time to move on need to do so decisively. If you plan to sell rather than foreclose, list the home at market value. There is no point fantasizing that someone will be so taken with your home that they’ll pay far more than it’s worth. Everyone today is looking for a bargain, and over-priced homes do not sell.
Doing some honest talking about “worst-case scenarios” could also help: oftentimes, things aren’t as bad as they seem.
The other day I bumped into a friend of mine, a REALTOR®, actually; she’d dropped some weight and had a spring in her step. If I hadn’t known better I’d have sworn she had a new boyfriend.
"We got rid of the house,” she said, of the property that had been weighing her down for at least the three years I’d known her. “It worked out great. We’re thinking of starting a family.”
“It’s a fresh start,” said another friend, whose short sale had closed in less than two months. “I still feel angry when I think of all the things we lost, the work we put into that home. But at least the sick feeling has gone. We can move on.”
Positive changes like this are not uncommon when people relieve themselves of a burden they’ve been carrying for some time. For many, simply being able to close the door on a bad patch makes all the difference.
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Moving on
So, as our communal love affair comes to an end, are we destined to be once bitten, twice shy?
Probably not.
“I’ll definitely buy again,” another client told me after her short sale went through. “We know we have to wait, but we believe in home ownership. I think we all went a little crazy back there. Now we know we can live more modestly, we don’t need all that fancy stuff we thought we did. We’d like to get something we can afford comfortably and pay it off sooner.”
With ownership far less expensive than renting, and Arizona inventory shrinking across the board, eventual recovery is inevitable. And when the time is right for us to collectively move on, we may do so with a more jaundiced eye, but perhaps we will have learned from our mistakes. One thing is certain: when the dust settles and the biggest transference of wealth since the Great Depression comes to an end, we will find ourselves older and wiser, and maybe a little more likely to see our homes for what they are – somewhere to live.
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