In Roslindale, a dream foreclosed

Homeowners not rescued as nation's crisis plays out here

David L. Ryan/Globe StaffBoston police officers stood by when Raul and Ana Esquivel were ordered to leave their Roslindale home after the couple returned from court yesterday. The Esquivels said they couldn't persuade Deutsche Bank to consider alternatives to foreclosure. (David L. Ryan/Globe Staff)

It was a house that Ana Esquivel took great pride in. She and her husband, Raul, put up decorative woodwork in what was once a drab entranceway. The walls were newly painted and the aged oak floors refinished to a gleam. And on the weekends, the patter of their grandchildren's feet echoed throughout their Roslindale three-decker.

But there won't be any more memory-making. Yesterday afternoon, even as some of the nation's most powerful leaders sat in a White House meeting brokering plans to hand over $700 billion to Wall Street goliaths, no one saved the Esquivels. As a constable, two large moving trucks, and a small crowd of chanting protesters waited outside on Rowe Street, the Esquivels emptied their bedroom drawers, their kitchen cabinets, and took down the many wall ornaments that added character to their home.

In their small bedroom, a daughter hastily dumped various medicine containers into a large trash bag. There was no time to pack neatly. Like countless others across the country crushed by the mortgage collapse, they had lost their home to foreclosure.

At 3:45 p.m., six Boston police officers formed a phalanx around the constable as he walked to a set of steps leading to the house. About 40 activists from City Life blocked the way. There was a jostle of shoving as the protesters tried to prevent the eviction. Four were arrested. Then, the constable walked into the house, followed by a locksmith.

"We've been destroyed by the bank," Ana Esquivel said, tears streaming down her face. "The bank is too big for us."

Ana Esquivel, a public school employee, and her husband, a construction worker, had realized their dream of owning a home two years ago, when they were in their 50s. They paid $498,000 for the house, which sits less than 200 yards from a roaring MBTA line. The mortgage payments, which totaled almost as much as their combined monthly incomes, surged from $3,200 a month to $4,200 after they missed several payments. The dream didn't last long.

The Esquivels said they tried to offer officials at Deutsche Bank an alternative to foreclosing. Ana Esquivel's sister said she could buy the house, and the Esquivels even offered to pay rent. Yesterday morning, they went to Boston Municipal Court to seek a last-minute stoppage of the eviction, but were unsuccessful. No one from the bank returned a request for an interview yesterday.

Police arrived at 11 a.m., and by noon, protesters were circling and chanting in the middle of the street. Soon after, Ana Esquivel returned from court and tearfully declared, "I tried, I tried." She hugged a supporter from City Life, which has carried out 11 eviction blockades this year, including yesterday's.

Steven Meacham, an organizer with City Life, said the protests have helped to stop about nine evictions. In the successful blockades, the homeowners were given additional time by their mortgage holders to negotiate alternatives to foreclosure.

Paula Taylor lost her home, on 76 Perrin St. in Roxbury, several weeks ago, despite a blockade action by City Life. Taylor was at Rowe Street yesterday, carrying a sign and chanting slogans.

"In my case, I decided to stay and fight the eviction because I knew there would be others after me who would lose their homes," Taylor said.

She said she had not been fully aware of what she was getting into when she signed up for her mortgage. "When I went into closing, that was the first time I saw the paperwork, when they gave me the keys. It was a blur, but they told me I could refinance after one year."

For a brief period yesterday, it appeared as though the Esquivels had won more time. Word circulated that the constable was not going to show up. Meacham grabbed a bullhorn and relayed the news to the activists, and Ana Esquivel danced in the street, twirling in circles and smiling broadly.

Her elation was short-lived. The constable was, in fact, on his way.