You mean this article?
by: Monica Gagnier
I’ve been spending a lot of time on the road lately, and I’m struck by the number of radio ads for debt settlement services that boast they can cut a consumer’s credit-card debt by half or more.
“So scared you can’t answer your phone anymore?†they ask. “We’ll get creditors off your back.â€
I know from experience that many of these outfits make promises they can’t keep. Shortly after my husband and I bought a house in Beacon, N.Y., in December 2005, I began looking for ways to cut his debt, which he had let creep up over the years.
Like millions of Americans, my husband received credit cards in the mail during the 1990s. For some folks, these 0% offers were too good to pass up.
Unfortunately, if you lost your job or got sick and you were late with a payment, the interest rates could skyrocket from 0% to 30% virtually overnight. That was in the agreement that came with the pre-approved card, but most people never bothered to read the fine print.
Compounding matters for debtors was a concept known as “universal default.†If you missed a payment on one card, other creditors would automatically raise their rates even if you had been paying them on time.
My husband fell behind on his credit-card payments when he quit his job as the manager of a restaurant to pursue his dream of working in the golf industry. As a result of this career shift, his income fell by two-thirds.
I did a lot of research on the Web and discovered an outfit in San Mateo, Calif. called Freedom debt relief that I thought would be able to help us.
At the time, the debt consolidator’s Web site contained a quote from The Wall Street Journal praising the firm, which was founded by two former Stanford University MBAs, Andrew Houser and Brad Stroh. As someone who used to cover business schools for BusinessWeek, this tale of MBA enterprise impressed me.
When my husband and I signed up for the Freedom Debt Relief program in February 2006, I told Samantha Sherman, the company's vice-president of customer relations, that I would be writing about our efforts to get out of debt. I was confident that the story would have a happy ending. After all, Freedom Debt Relief advertised that it had more than $1 billion under management.
The first thing Freedom Debt Relief had us do was write letters to the credit-card companies asking them to close my husband's accounts. The debt consolidator provided us with a form letter we could use that explained my husband intended to make good on his obligations.
Instead of sending payments to the banks, we allowed Freedom Debt Relief to withdraw between $1,000 and $1,500 a month from our joint checking account. This money was deposited in an escrow account, ostensibly to pay creditors.
At the time, Freedom Debt Relief told us that if we stuck with their three-year program, they would reduce my husband's debt from about $85,000 to half of that.
While were in the program, many of these creditors called us several times a day to tell us Freedom Debt Relief was not negotiating in good faith and hadn't returned their calls.
Several of my husband's debts were transferred from creditors such as JPMorgan Chase, American Express, and Citibank to debt collection agencies, which started harassing me at work. I knew that these debts were going to end up in court if Freedom Debt Relief dragged its feet in negotiating settlements.
At one point, to avoid a judgment against my husband, Freedom Debt Relief offered to lend us $12,000 through its mortgage arm, Alivio Mortgage, at 9% interest. When I asked Sherman why this particular bank had filed suit against my husband rather than settling with Freedom Debt Relief, she told me that the bank thought we "were hiding assets." I believed her and signed the promissory note to Alivio.
For months, I pestered Sherman to provide me with monthly statements outlining where our money was going and how much debt Freedom Debt Relief had been able to eliminate. We never received a single statement until we terminated the program in November 2007.
When all was said and done, we paid the debt consolidator more than $25,000, of which roughly half, $13,700, went to fees. Freedom Debt Relief paid out $6,000 to creditors and managed to reduce my husband's debt by $4,000, an amount on which we had to pay taxes. You'll notice the math doesn't quite add up. There were also loan payments to Alivio Mortgage.
Why did we drop out? The better question is: Why did we ever go in? I'm embarrassed that as a longtime financial writer, I signed up to be fleeced and persuaded my husband to go along with the program. Yes, this whole thing was my idea.
At the time, it seemed that we needed a middleman to negotiate with the credit-card companies and try to make payment arrangements that wouldn't further increase our debt because of late fees and 30% interest rates.
When I was doing my research, I didn't know about this site, where real people talk about their experiences with debt settlement companies. Today, there are lots of unfavorable comments about Freedom Debt Relief and other debt consolidators here and elsewhere on the Web.
After we made the decision to terminate the program, I began a letter-writing campaign. I sent e-mails and snail mail to the consumer affairs departments of both California, where Freedom Debt Relief is based, and New York, where we live. I wrote to the New York State Banking Commissioner and the U.S. Comptroller of the Currency. Each recommended that I write to another state or federal agency.
I didn't have any hope that we would get any of our money back, but I wanted to prevent others from losing their hard-earned cash.
I almost fell off my chair one day in March of this year, when I received an e-mail from Chuck Finney, the Deputy District Attorney of San Mateo County, Calif. Finney and I have exchanged many e-mails and talked on the phone several times as he attempted to persuade Freedom Debt Relief to disgorge funds to me and my husband and 130 other clients.
After these talks stalled, Finney and his boss, District Attorney James P. Fox, filed a civil suit on Oct. 30 against Freedom Debt Relief in San Mateo County Superior Court. They allege that the debt consolidator "engaged in unlawful business practices and made false or misleading statements to consumers."
Among the allegations is that Freedom Debt Relief violated California's financial code by offering me and others loans through Alivio Mortgage. To do this, the company is required to be licensed by the state's Department of Corporations. It is not.
Since my husband and I terminated our agreement with Freedom Debt Relief, I wrote to several of their managers, explaining how unhappy I was and asking them to either refund our money or send it to my husband's creditors, as originally promised. I never received a response.
Even though Freedom Debt Relief reneged on its promises, I've made good on my vow to write about our saga.
Things could be worse. I'm reading a biography of novelist Charles Dickens, whose father went to debtors' prison more than once. That was what happened to people who couldn't pay their bills in 19th century England.
Yes, my husband shouldn't have gotten into debt in the first place, and in retrospect, given all the investigative articles about for-profit debt settlement firms, I should have looked for one that was nonprofit. There's no question we made some big mistakes.
But charging fees of 50% to help overextended consumers settle their debts is criminal, in my book. I'm glad the state of California agrees with me.
If you are a client of Freedom Debt Relief, Alivio Mortgage, or a sister company called Freedom Financial Network and believe you have been mistreated, please call the San Mateo DA's consumer and environmental unit at(650)363-4651.
For a long time, I didn't tell any of my friends about this dark chapter in my financial history. But as I started making confessions, I heard similar tales of woe.
One friend lost her job and used her credit cards to finance a small business that collapsed after a key customer filed bankruptcy. She now owes $225,000 to credit-card companies and is being harassed day and night. She's now attending Debtors Anonymous meetings several times a week.
Sorry this happened to you. But can you believe that with all the negative people are still signing up with them?