It really all started for me in September of 1996.  We were living in an apartment while in the process of building our dream house (It’s a very modest 1450 square foot ranch, but it was our dream).  After Hurricane Fran came through town, there was a massive power outage.  The apartment building we were living in caught fire.  (Everyone, us included, was burning candles and etc.  The fire department’s determination was that it started by the open flame of a candle getting out of control in someone’s apartment.  Thank God no one was hurt in the fire.)  We had renter’s replacement cost insurance in an amount that was what we had been told was the maximum, $15,000.  (We found out later that we could have been insured for a much larger amount.  The limit that we had been given was actually the maximum for rental of a mobile home.)  When we got done taking an inventory of the loss, the replacement cost came to over $33,000.  (In all fairness we did get a $15,000 FEMA loan, which helped and was paid back over time.)  Just before the fire happened, I had estimated, to our banker who had provided the construction loan for the house, that it would take us two weeks to finish it.  We were very close.  

I was doing a lot of the work myself.  With the ordeal we went through after the fire, it ended up taking us nine weeks to complete and move in.  We had taken on the construction loan, which was of the type that automatically rolls over to a mortgage, and deliberately also took on some considerable credit card debt to get the house completed.  We really didn’t think it would be a problem since we were both working at secure and fairly well paying jobs.

My oldest son had just turned five years old when the fire happened.  My youngest (I have two sons) was just over two months old at the time.  After the first child was born, his Mom had suffered from a pretty serious bout of post-partem depression.  But, leading up to the time that the fire happened, she seemed to have shaken that off.  She was two months post-partem when the fire happened, and went into a deep depression for which she sought counseling.  Almost exactly two weeks after we moved in to our new house, I came home from work and she was lying on our bed with her work uniform still on.  She told me that her therapist had told her that if she didn’t quit work and start focusing on her mental health, she was going to end up in the hospital.  So, she had quit her job that day.  (I have no idea if her therapist really told her that.)  I was devastated.  There we were with our new house, all that debt, all this stuff that we needed to replace, (most of our clothes, furniture, etc., had been donated after the fire) and now we were on one income.  That was early December 1996.  With the exception of a few transient part-time jobs, she never worked again until after she left me, six years and four months later on March 19, 2003.

I could write a book about that six-year period alone.  To sum it up briefly for you:  She was absolutely debilitated for much of the time.  I struggled just to keep us from going any farther into debt than we already were.  Almost immediately after quitting her job she also quit seeing a therapist.  I pled with her to seek more help, to get back into therapy, to try a different doctor.  I encouraged her, I begged her.  I tried to get her to recognize the degree to which she was sick, and that neither she nor I could fix it, we needed to seek out and be open to help.  (I had to pick my moments carefully if I was going to bring up her mental health since, during this time, she tended to be extremely irritable and volatile over almost anything, but especially that subject.)  I tried, over and over, to get her to realize what her condition was doing to our relationship, and the effect it was having on our sons.  I was effectively partnerless.  One of the greatest losses of this period for me was the distance that it put between my sons and I.  Those were years that I was taking responsibility for almost everything that needed to be done for our home and family, (what else was I to do?) and I did not have the time that I should have had to devote to them.  Those are years with them that I can never recover.

The separation and divorce from my sons’ mom was, by far, the biggest tragedy of my life.  (The divorce was final in July of 2004.)  It was not the way I dreamed it, not the way I planned it.  I prayed until my knees were sore.  Fought it and fought it.  Nonetheless, it happened.  As you might have guessed, we were still in big debt trouble by the time she left.  She had moved out, and I was very motivated to keep the house for several reasons, not the least of which was that the boys were doing extremely well here in this neighborhood and school system, especially considering the circumstances.  But, I knew that keeping the house could be a struggle for me.  I took on all of our credit card debt to help compensate her for her half of the equity in the home.

I managed to do ok for a few months until a couple of crushing blows caused my fortunes to take a turn for the worse.  In October of 2004 I fell ill.  It came out of nowhere.  I had been perfectly fine regarding my health.  I was in the hospital, and in outpatient rehab, for a total of two weeks, and another two weeks recovering from home.  Thankfully, I had good health insurance through my work.  Still, as I am sure you probably realize, my share of the bills were very large.  (Also, thankfully, I am fully recovered and perfectly fine now.)  I returned to work as soon as I was cleared medically, and set out to try to get things back to normal.

The second blow came when, again completely out of nowhere, in early August of 2005, I was let go from my job at the age of 44.  I had been with that employer for over 19 years, and in that particular position for 5 years.  I got two months severance pay.

Obviously, I was shocked.  But I tried to quickly put that emotion behind me and decide what to do next.  On the consistent advice of friends, work associates, and family members, I went into business for myself.  In fact, when I was still working at my job, a number of people had volunteered to me that, with my knowledge acquired by working in my field for so many years combined with my communication skills, I could probably do quite well by going into business for myself.  I didn’t even apply for other positions.  I didn’t even update my resume.  The day after my last day at work, I took off to a region of my state, about 2 hours drive from my home, and started marketing my new business.  (It is an area of the state where an incredible real estate boom was taking place at the time.)  

My business really took off.  My biggest problem, early on, was trying not to yank my hair out at the stress of keeping up with all the incoming work.  I had very high hopes and was thinking of hiring help.  Then in about late summer or early fall of 2006, the real estate boom went completely bust.  I have clients there that have told me bluntly that any work that they have is mine, that they would not hire anyone else.  The trouble is, after the bubble burst, there is very little work.  I’ve tried very hard to market myself in other regions of the state, and other states on the east coast.  I’ve tried doing work in other related areas.  I’ve even supplemented that by doing handyman work and yard work.  Nothing, so far, is really making me a living.

I’m now on the job search, but so far the right position has not come along.  The Employment Security Commission here tells me that my prospects are good, but it just may take some time.  They also tell me that I am not eligible for unemployment since I did not apply for it at the time that I was let go, two years ago.

Any help that you could give would be very much appreciated.  Even if you can’t find it in your heart to make a donation, your prayers would be appreciated.  I am managing to keep my utilities turned on but they are all behind.  My mortgage and car payments are both two months behind.  I can’t pay for my oldest son’s orthodontist’s visits, (his orthodontic care was started before I lost my job) which breaks my heart.  (Now it is time to start that for the youngest, and, obviously I can’t afford to do that right now.)  I haven’t managed to pay even the monthly minimum on a credit card in months.  I’m not able to afford anything but very inexpensive gifts for my sons, (my youngest was 11 in late June and my oldest will be 16 in late August) but they have been so understanding and mature about the situation.  In fact, speaking of doing yard work to help make ends meet, they have been helping me do it, or in some cases doing it all themselves and giving the proceeds to me.  

They are really good boys, and very deserving of your help.  I haven’t been able to continue to pay for my health insurance, and have been without health insurance for almost a year (which really worries me, as you can probably imagine.)  I have managed to keep up my car insurance, (I would be in big trouble in this state if I was caught without it) but, I haven’t been able to pay the property taxes on the car, which means that I cannot renew the registration.  So I am driving my boys around in a car on which the registration expired over a year ago.

I hope that I have helped you to understand the situation that I am in.  Thanks for taking the time to read it and give it your consideration.  Your generosity would be so appreciated.  Please give anything that you can.  If my story touched you, please consider e-mailing your friends or in some other way letting them know to look at my page. Some additional things that I wanted you to know:

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Any donation that you could make will be an answer to heartfelt prayer.