It Wasn’t Just a House—It Was Our History

We bought the house in 1997, the year our second child was born. It wasn’t much—just a small two-story with creaky stairs and a stubborn water heater. But it was ours.

We painted every room ourselves. Hosted birthday parties in the backyard. Nailed growth charts to the inside of a closet door. And when our kids moved out, we turned one of their old bedrooms into a sewing room and the other into a quiet little library.

It wasn’t just a home. It was our history.

So when we got the letter saying the foreclosure process had officially begun, I felt something inside me crack.

It wasn’t like we’d been reckless. We hadn’t taken vacations or bought fancy cars. We were just two aging people trying to stay afloat after my husband’s surgery knocked him out of work for six months. Our savings dwindled faster than expected, and his short-term disability didn’t cover enough.

We prioritized medical bills over the mortgage, thinking we’d catch up once things normalized.

But normal never came.

I called the bank early, thinking that would count for something. They told me to submit paperwork. I did. Then they said I was missing forms. I re-sent them. This went on for months. Every call was a different person, a different answer. Meanwhile, late fees stacked up and the letters got colder.

Eventually, we were too far behind.

I felt ashamed. At church, I smiled and said we were “managing.” I didn’t want anyone knowing what we were facing. Losing your house at our age feels like admitting defeat—like everything you built is slipping through your fingers.

One night, I stayed up late scrolling the internet for answers. I came across a blog where someone mentioned working with a man named David Litt from 4Closure Rescue. They said:

“I didn’t just get advice—I got clarity, and it saved my home.”

It didn’t sound flashy. That’s why I trusted it.

I wrote down the number: 224-344-5700.

I didn’t call right away. I waited a few days, trying to work up the nerve. But when another letter came—this one scheduling a sale date—I realized it was now or never.

David answered himself.

I told him the truth: we were older, overwhelmed, and confused. I didn’t need a pitch. I just needed someone to explain what was possible and what wasn’t.

He didn’t judge us. He didn’t rush. He explained what a reinstatement looked like, how a loan modification could be structured, and what kind of documents lenders usually required to even consider stopping the foreclosure process.

David helped us gather everything: income records, a hardship letter, the timeline of events. He walked us through the submission. He helped us stay on top of follow-ups and explained what each notice meant.

In the end, the lender approved a trial modification.

We stopped the sale.

We kept our home.

We’ve since hosted our first grandbaby’s birthday party in the same backyard where our kids once ran barefoot chasing bubbles. The same creaky stairs still moan under our feet. That old water heater finally gave out—but we replaced it. Together.

It wasn’t just about saving a house. It was about preserving a place where our family’s memories live.

If you're facing foreclosure and you feel like time is running out, please don’t give up.

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

Sometimes one calm voice can guide you through the loudest storm.