For This Industry,
Rising Foreclosures
Are Good for Business Obscure Profession Gears Up
On Signs Housing Sector
Could Be Cooling Down
By JAMES R. HAGERTY
UPPER MARLBORO, Md. - Chuck Seabrease steered his pickup truck into the driveway of a two-story house on a cul-de-sac in this suburb of Washington. He was carrying a drill and tools for picking locks.
But Mr. Seabrease found on this recent chilly morning that someone else already had kicked the door open, shattering the frame and leaving a black boot mark. Mr. Seabrease, a 36-year-old father of two who plays hockey in his spare time, stepped warily into the house and prepared to do his job: safeguarding foreclosed property for lenders.
For the past few years, business generally has been slow for the 10,000-odd members of Mr. Seabrease's profession, known among people in the industry as mortgage field services. Until recently, home prices were rising so fast in much of the U.S. that most people who fell behind on their payments could easily sell their homes for more than they owed the lender and thus avoid foreclosure. At the end of last year's third quarter, according to the Mortgage Bankers Association, just 0.97% of all home mortgages were in the process of foreclosure, in which the lender takes ownership after the borrower defaults on payments. That percentage was the lowest since 1996.
Fewer foreclosures mean less business for field-services operations, independent contractors hired by lenders to clean up the sometimes horrific messes left by people who lose their houses.
Now the people in this little-known trade hope that a cooler housing market will create more work. House prices have fallen modestly in some places, and inventories of unsold homes are rising. Foreclosures have increased in recent months in much of the U.S., according to RealtyTrac Inc., a foreclosure data publisher in Irvine, Calif.
Kevin McFalls, the owner of JKM Mortgage Field Services, Baltimore, where Mr. Seabrease works, says he already has noticed an uptick in business in the Washington and Baltimore areas. Mr. McFalls expects a surge in assignments from lenders over the next few years. Rick Taggard, the owner of a field-services company in Porterville, Calif., agrees: "All of us are just waiting, and when it turns around, it's rags to riches again."
During the recent lean years for foreclosure, some people in field services left the business. Others have stayed busy by heading to foreclosure hot spots such as New Orleans, devastated by Hurricane Katrina, or Detroit, suffering from an exodus of jobs. Mr. Taggard's company, SCVMS Inc., set up a temporary office near New Orleans after Katrina, and he has hired subcontractors there to inspect damaged homes and secure them against intruders.
Both Mr. McFalls and Mr. Seabrease made the 45-mile drive from their Baltimore office to the house in Upper Marlboro. Though the door had been kicked open, they were relieved to find nobody inside. Most likely, Mr. Seabrease said, it was a bored teenager who broke in and had a look around after the former owners had abandoned the house. Most of the furnishings were gone, but a stuffed dog and other toys were strewn across stained gray carpeting. An empty bottle of Heineken sat on a coffee table. Shriveled roses, apparently from a funeral arrangement, clung to a wire stand decorated with a white ribbon inscribed with the word "Dad" in gold letters. A file cabinet contained a sixth grader's scrawled notes from Sunday school, starting with the admonition to "find salvation in Christ."
In the kitchen, a few dirty plastic dishes remained in the sink, and the refrigerator was mottled with mold. "This house is actually pretty clean compared to a lot of them," Mr. Seabrease said.
His mission was to preserve the value of the house while the lender prepares to sell it. In the basement, Mr. Seabrease twisted a valve to turn off the water supply. He then used an air compressor to blast the remaining water out of the pipes so they wouldn't freeze. Mr. Seabrease took digital pictures of each room, fixed the door frame and installed a new lock. The total charge for about an hour's work, excluding travel time, was around $125. Mr. Taggard says that in a good year someone running a field-services business can earn a six-figure income.
Field-services companies provide several types of service for lenders. One is the kind of "preservation" work Mr. Seabrease did in Upper Marlboro. Another is inspection. When borrowers fall more than a month or two behind on payments, lenders hire field-services companies to check whether the home is still occupied and to note any major damage. Field-service businesses also provide labor to clear out debris after evictions by sheriffs or other law-enforcement people. Usually the people who lived in the house are long gone by the time the foreclosure occurs.
Still, field-services work can be dangerous. While one of Mr. McFalls's crew was dragging junk from a house in Baltimore several months ago, three men emerged from the basement, and one brandished a gun. After a scuffle during which one of the workers was cut just above the eye, the gunman and his companions fled.
In crime-ridden areas, Mr. McFalls tells his crews to show up early in the morning to inspect or secure houses: "Typically, the troublemakers are still asleep or passed out then." Often, field-services workers themselves are suspected of making trouble. Neighbors see them breaking in and call the police. Crew members sometimes end up in handcuffs before they can convince the police that the break-in was ordered by a bank.
Mr. McFalls owned and operated a gas station before he got into this business in 1999. He had heard about field services from a friend and saw more opportunity there -- for someone with a strong stomach. For one thing, people sometimes leave pets behind. "We found a beautiful Great Dane, starved to death," Mr. McFalls says. Dirty needles and clogged toilets are other occupational hazards. In some homes, says Robert Preston, who runs a field-services business in Grand Rapids, Mich., his crews have found decomposed bodies. About a decade ago, while Mr. Preston was helping with an eviction in Indiana, a man being forced from his home shot himself to death, Mr. Preston says.
"After a time, you just become desensitized," says D. Scott Smith, who ran a field-services business in Baltimore for about eight years before changing careers. He now invests in real estate.
Mr. McFalls says he feels sorry for some of the people whose belongings his crews cart away. But he thinks many people get into trouble simply because they have made bad choices, buying expensive cars and other luxuries instead of paying off their mortgages. "The majority of them are just living far beyond their means and putting themselves in that position," he says.