Huffington Magazine Issue 5 | Page 44

HUFFINGTON 07.15.12 TWILIGHT IN THE SUNSHINE STATE scrubby brush and pine trees line one side of the road. On the other a white house with a broken mailbox lying in the driveway sits empty and abandoned. I roll down the windows and turn off the engine. Swampy air creeps into the car. It is completely quiet; all the scene needs is tumbleweeds. Finally, 20 minutes later, a lone pickup truck crosses through a distant intersection. Welcome to Lehigh Acres, and ground zero of the foreclosure crisis. Home sale prices in this huge but sparsely populated neighborhood fell to $63,000 in the spring of 2012 from a median peak of $208,000 in 2007. One of every 172 homes received a foreclosure notice in May, according to RealtyTrac. This sounds preposterous – not because the rate is four times that of the national average, but because it is hard to imagine that anyone is left after the purge that swept through here over the past five years. This is the anti-planned development: 100,000 lots in a nowhere exurb traded like playing cards and lofted ever higher in price until the scheme collapsed. “The real estate industrial complex drove Florida’s economy,” says Roy Oppenheim, a housing lawyer at a Ft. Lauderdale firm. “We did an analysis. If you count the builders, bankers, appraiser, brokers and laborers whose businesses were tied to real estate market, somewhere between 25 and 30 percent of the entire economy was tied to housing.” Oppenheim, whose firm once represented mostly mid-sized family builders with revenue between $20 million to $50 million a year, says that his firm’s real estate practice went from boom to bust overnight. “All of a sudden, our phones stopped ringing. Most of our clients disappeared. Soon our business dropped by 90 percent. We had a wonderful staff of people with nothing to do.” He has since reinvented himself as an advocate for homeowners screwed by banks in the foreclosure debacle. How bad did it get? Three out of six the housing counselors at Tampa’s Housing & Education Alliance, a nonprofit in the struggling north end of that city, lost their homes to foreclosure over the past five years, as the agency saw a sharp drop in funding from government and private sources, including banks, and the counselors accepted big pay cuts or became volunteers. In May 2006, at the peak of the housing bubble, the construction industry employed 691,000 Floridians, according to the state Bu-