Help Save Our House!
Beschermde donatie
Hello, friends.
Twenty-three years ago, two young people moved from overcrowded Boulder, Colorado, to the small mountain town of Paonia, Colorado to be closer to family and pursue better opportunities to build a new life together. Those two people were me, Katherine Lampe, and my husband, Michael Zimmerle. Over the years, we've had a lot of ups and downs. We've followed some dreams and seen others fade and die. Most of our memories have been formed in the little red house we moved into shortly before getting married, right in the front yard. This is the house we're now in danger of losing.
Problems in the economy have hit everyone hard. After running his own stucco and plaster contracting business for ten years, Michael realized he could no longer compete with bigger companies. In 2005, he shut down Singing Stucco and went back to college, where he earned a B. A. in secondary education. Becoming a high school teacher and helping young people navigate the road to adulthood has always been a dream of his, and he had hopes that teaching would provide us with a mopre steady source of income.
Shortly after Michael went back to school, I became disabled. I've fought mental illness since childhood. Sometimes I've been able to get far enough on top of it to participate in an hourly job. More often, the fight itself takes all I have. Although I have a difficult time asking for help, in 2007, with multiple diagnoses of Bipolar Disorder, General Anxiety Disorder, and Complex PTSD, I applied for disability benefits. Two years and an appeal later, my request was granted. My disability provides me with a small stipend ($392/month) and covers most of my medical bills, including the prescriptions I need to lead a somewhat normal life.
Unfortunately for us, public education in the United States fell on hard times almost as soon as Michael qualified for his educator license. Many schools hire fewer teachers than they need, and some have cut positions. To make a long story short, after five years of increasingly diminishing wages in positions offering no benefits whatsoever, Michael decided this year he could no longer afford to teach. At the time, it seemed like a good decision. Over the summer, he had gone back into construction, which paid more than twice as much as his most recent teaching position. Things were looking up.
Then disaster struck. Right before Thanksgiving, the general contractor on Michael's job had a serious fall, which resulted in an injury requiring surgery and a long period of recuperation. The job itself lasted a few weeks longer, but in the first week of December, the homeowner who had initiated the project shut it down without warning. This left Michael without work, and us with no income but my meager disability.
Since then, Michael has been actively pursuing employment with little result. This winter's weather has been unusually bad in Colorado, and construction has come to a standstill. Michael is on the substitute teacher rolls for the local school district, and has been called in a few times. However, we have yet to receive his first paycheck.
We've got along for the last months through the generosity of Michael's parents, who are themselves on a fixed income and have little to spare. We've hade to cut corners to scrape by. Our two mortagages, the first at $525.00 per month and the second at $200 per month, are our biggest expenses. We simply have not been able to pay them, and now, with us nearly three months in arrears, our lender is initiating foreclosure proceedings.
We're working with our lender to modify our loans, but unless we can make the back payments, and with Michael still lacking steady work, there's a strong chance we may still find ourselves on the streets. It won't take much to bring us current and give us some breathing space. $2500.00 is a drop in the bucket to some. For us, it's the difference between keeping our home and losing it.
We need to come up with the money by the beginning of March. It would mean so much to us if you could help. My dad bought this house for us as a wedding present, and it's been the one constant through the ups and downs of the last twenty years. We've celebrated holidays here, and hosted friends, and suffered the loss of loved ones. I truly believe losing our home would be more than I could bear.
Please, if you could spare us even the change from the jar on your dresser, you would have our eternal gratitude. Thank you for taking the time to read our story.
Twenty-three years ago, two young people moved from overcrowded Boulder, Colorado, to the small mountain town of Paonia, Colorado to be closer to family and pursue better opportunities to build a new life together. Those two people were me, Katherine Lampe, and my husband, Michael Zimmerle. Over the years, we've had a lot of ups and downs. We've followed some dreams and seen others fade and die. Most of our memories have been formed in the little red house we moved into shortly before getting married, right in the front yard. This is the house we're now in danger of losing.
Problems in the economy have hit everyone hard. After running his own stucco and plaster contracting business for ten years, Michael realized he could no longer compete with bigger companies. In 2005, he shut down Singing Stucco and went back to college, where he earned a B. A. in secondary education. Becoming a high school teacher and helping young people navigate the road to adulthood has always been a dream of his, and he had hopes that teaching would provide us with a mopre steady source of income.
Shortly after Michael went back to school, I became disabled. I've fought mental illness since childhood. Sometimes I've been able to get far enough on top of it to participate in an hourly job. More often, the fight itself takes all I have. Although I have a difficult time asking for help, in 2007, with multiple diagnoses of Bipolar Disorder, General Anxiety Disorder, and Complex PTSD, I applied for disability benefits. Two years and an appeal later, my request was granted. My disability provides me with a small stipend ($392/month) and covers most of my medical bills, including the prescriptions I need to lead a somewhat normal life.
Unfortunately for us, public education in the United States fell on hard times almost as soon as Michael qualified for his educator license. Many schools hire fewer teachers than they need, and some have cut positions. To make a long story short, after five years of increasingly diminishing wages in positions offering no benefits whatsoever, Michael decided this year he could no longer afford to teach. At the time, it seemed like a good decision. Over the summer, he had gone back into construction, which paid more than twice as much as his most recent teaching position. Things were looking up.
Then disaster struck. Right before Thanksgiving, the general contractor on Michael's job had a serious fall, which resulted in an injury requiring surgery and a long period of recuperation. The job itself lasted a few weeks longer, but in the first week of December, the homeowner who had initiated the project shut it down without warning. This left Michael without work, and us with no income but my meager disability.
Since then, Michael has been actively pursuing employment with little result. This winter's weather has been unusually bad in Colorado, and construction has come to a standstill. Michael is on the substitute teacher rolls for the local school district, and has been called in a few times. However, we have yet to receive his first paycheck.
We've got along for the last months through the generosity of Michael's parents, who are themselves on a fixed income and have little to spare. We've hade to cut corners to scrape by. Our two mortagages, the first at $525.00 per month and the second at $200 per month, are our biggest expenses. We simply have not been able to pay them, and now, with us nearly three months in arrears, our lender is initiating foreclosure proceedings.
We're working with our lender to modify our loans, but unless we can make the back payments, and with Michael still lacking steady work, there's a strong chance we may still find ourselves on the streets. It won't take much to bring us current and give us some breathing space. $2500.00 is a drop in the bucket to some. For us, it's the difference between keeping our home and losing it.
We need to come up with the money by the beginning of March. It would mean so much to us if you could help. My dad bought this house for us as a wedding present, and it's been the one constant through the ups and downs of the last twenty years. We've celebrated holidays here, and hosted friends, and suffered the loss of loved ones. I truly believe losing our home would be more than I could bear.
Please, if you could spare us even the change from the jar on your dresser, you would have our eternal gratitude. Thank you for taking the time to read our story.
Organisator
Kele Lampe
Organisator
Paonia, CO