So, not only have they discriminated against me regarding the “modification” of my mortgage stating things like:
- “You’re on Social Security, you don’t have enough money for us to work with you.”
- “Is your disability mental or physical?”
Now they’re discriminating against me again because I’m on Social Security. Below is the text of an email I have sent to my NJ State Senator James Beach, but I have sent it to Congressman Donald Norcross, and the Camden County Freeholders:
To Whom It May Concern:
I am being evicted from my home in February. I called the Gloucester County Social Services and was informed that if I’m not on welfare, I don’t qualify for Temporary Rental Assistance. However, not only am I disabled (on Social Security Disability), my income for two people is $14,000 a year. According to what I read on your website, I more than qualify for rental assistance:
Taken from this webpage – http://www.state.nj.us/dca/divisions/dhcr/offices/srap.html
Disabled set-aside: reserved for disabled head of households or spouse.
Income Limits: Seventy-five percent of the participants admitted to the program must be extremely low-income families (30 percent of area median income as defined by region and household size), in accordance with the income guidelines published annually by the United States Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD). The remaining applicants shall not exceed 40 percent of low-income limits (by county) as defined in accordance with the HUD guidelines.
This image was taken from the HUD website:
How is it that I don’t qualify for rental assistance? I am being evicted, am I supposed to live in the street? I feel that I meet the criteria set forth on your website regardless of whether I’m receiving welfare or Social Security. In fact, I’m disabled and cannot work because I can’t. I’m not unemployed by choice. I’m hoping you can help me.
If I don’t get help from the people mentioned above, I’m going to file a complaint with HUD and the New Jersey Attorney General.
I am a have not. It seems that the haves want nothing and I mean NOTHING to do with the have nots.
It amazes me that my family doesn’t even care that my daughter and I have no place to go when we are evicted from our home in February. I’m getting comments from them like “you’ll find something” or “when one door closes another door opens”. Yeah, another door opens, the CAR DOOR. The door that is closing is being slammed. My family is slamming the door in my face, but I’m slamming back.
You see, they have money, I don’t. I have a foreclosure on my credit report, no one wants to rent to me. It’s all good, at least my car is paid in full.
When February rolls around and its time to move, there won’t be anyone there to even help us get our stuff out of the house. It makes me sad that I can’t even rely on my family. Like I said, I’m slamming back. Don’t contact me for anything, not even to say Happy Birthday to me. I want nothing to do with people who don’t care about their fellow man. Go ahead and give donations to charity so the big wigs at the charity can get big salaries. Go ahead and run down here like you were shot out of a cannon and argue about who is going to pay for my Mom’s funeral to the tune of $13,000…but don’t worry that the people who are still living don’t have a roof over their heads. You people are really sick in the head.
I remember I filled out an application for housing in Brooklyn, I used my aunt’s address. Funny, she never received ANYTHING in the mail. I filled out another application recently, I used my cousin’s address…SHE received notification that I am on a wait list in NYC. Do you really care, my darling aunt? You tell everyone I am the daughter you never had…the way you are trying to help me, I’m really glad you’re not my mother. In fact, I bet Grandma is rolling over in her grave knowing that you’d let me and my daughter live in the street.
So dear family, have a great life. Don’t bother to call me anymore, I won’t answer.
Well, Thanksgiving is upon us once again. I’m sitting here in my kitchen wondering why the only people who truly give a crap are the people who live hundreds of miles away. I know why…because they know they can offer to help you because they know you won’t show up.
One friend invited me to Thanksgiving dinner three years ago, I couldn’t go, I think it snowed. So we said next year. The following year she went to her husbands sister or something. Last year, she called “after the fact” and said “why didn’t you come to me for Thanksgiving?” Well, duh, you didn’t invite me…Well, duh, how am I supposed to know if you were home? Well, duh, what if I showed up and you weren’t there or you didn’t have enough to feed two extra people?
Do we really have friends in this world? NO. The only friend we truly have is ourselves.
The fabulous state of New Jersey has impeccable timing.
December 22, 2009 – the day of my Mom’s funeral.
We just returned home from the cemetery. Took off our coats and immediately there was a knock at the door…I was served with a foreclosure notice regarding my house. (I’m not going into the fact that the glorious state of New Jersey – who is my mortgage holder – has mortgage servicers who discriminate against disabled people. I will do that in another post.)
August 25, 2014 – The day I had to put my baby to sleep (exactly 17 years to the day that my dad passed away.)
I was in the backyard with Chippy, I just got off the phone with the veterinarian learning that there was no hope for Buddy to get better. I cried out there for a while and went back into the house. I sat down at the computer and there was a knock at the door. It was someone from the Sheriff’s Office there to give me the “Sheriff’s Sale” notice for my house.
The absolute worst day in my calendar is August 25th. It was on August 25th, 1997, I was sleeping around 9:00am. My daughter, who was seven at the time, came running into my bedroom yelling, “Mommy, come quick there’s something wrong with Popop.”
Emalee was only a few hours old in this picture. My Dad is holding her.
I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. The dogs were in the backyard and there was my Dad, bent backwards over the seat of the computer chair, not breathing and unresponsive. His lips were purple. I got him down on the floor and started CPR until the ambulance arrived.
They started CPR and took him to the hospital. When we got there, we were ushered into a private room where we were informed that “we did all we could, we’re very sorry.” It took me about two years to get over losing my dad. He was Emalee’s father figure, she was the apple of his eye.
Fast forward to August 25th, 2014…
I had to put my baby to sleep. Complications from diabetes…Diabetic Ketoacidosys. I’m heartbroken. It’s two months and I can’t get over it. If he was human, he probably would have been my soul mate. I don’t even cry, tears just come and keep on going for hours at a time.
Buddy, My Baby
Having just put him to sleep at about 3:00pm, I was standing on my front porch having a cigarette when a Sheriff’s car pulled up and promptly handed me “Sheriff’s Sale” papers for my house. My day was complete.
Follow me on my 25 year journey through my life in New Jersey. No one who knows me has ever seen such bad luck happen to any one person.
Of course, I will be posting things as I remember them so they won’t be in chronological order. The dates may or may not be exact, but my friends and family can attest to all of the horrible things that have happened to me.
No one deserves such a bumpy ride.