I Didn’t Survive Two Deployments to Lose My House in Peace

The irony didn’t escape me.

Two tours in the Middle East. Sixteen years in the Army. A Purple Heart in a drawer, still covered in dust.

And here I was—standing in my garage, staring at a foreclosure notice taped to my door. Not because I was reckless. Not because I spent too much. But because life back home got complicated, and I didn’t know how to fight the kind of war that came in the form of late fees and legal notices.

After I left active duty, I tried to adjust like everyone else. I got a decent job in security, picked up some contract work on the side. My wife and I bought a modest home near where we grew up. It wasn’t fancy, but it had a backyard and a fence and a quiet place to watch the sunset. That meant more to me than anyone knew.

Then came the layoffs. And my wife’s medical bills. And the VA benefits delay that no one seems to be able to fix no matter how many calls you make.

We fell behind on one mortgage payment. Then two. Then it snowballed.

By the time I fully realized what was happening, we were two weeks from a court date I didn’t even know had been scheduled. The letter used words like default judgment and sale authorization. I was trained in enemy tactics and recon. But this—this was foreign territory.

I called my mortgage servicer. Spoke to four different people in one afternoon. Each gave me a different answer. I kept hearing, “We understand your frustration,” but not once did anyone offer a clear solution.

What bothered me the most wasn’t the money. It was the helplessness. I’ve spent my life solving problems under pressure. Now I couldn’t even understand what I was legally allowed to do.

I kept thinking, I didn’t come back from combat just to quietly lose everything I built in peacetime.

So I did what veterans always do when things get bad—I started looking for the real solution behind the chaos.

In a military forum, someone mentioned a group called 4Closure Rescue, and a man named David Litt. The guy said David had helped him keep his house after a rough stretch, and that he “knew how to talk to real people, not just lenders.”

I saved the number: 224-344-5700.

When I called, David answered himself. No secretary. No hold music.

He didn’t ask for documents right away. He didn’t hit me with a sales pitch. He just asked, “Tell me what’s going on.”

I gave him the full run-down. Even the parts I was ashamed of. The back payments. The ignored letters. The fear I’d screwed everything up.

David listened. Then he laid it out in a way I could understand: what options were left, what legal rights I still had, and how the system worked behind the scenes.

He walked me through how to file a hardship affidavit and helped me prepare a reinstatement offer that actually had a shot.

He told me which calls to make, what language to use, and when to follow up. It felt like having a tactical plan again. Like someone finally had my six.

We stopped the foreclosure. I’m still in my home. And this time, I sleep easier—not because the danger disappeared, but because I learned how to face it.

They say veterans don’t like to ask for help. Maybe that’s true.

But sometimes, you need backup. And when you do, it makes all the difference who answers that call.

📞 David Litt at 4Closure Rescue: 224-344-5700

He didn’t treat me like a number. He treated me like someone worth fighting for.