The Real Estate Wranglers

As a real estate speculator, Mike Heger helped fuel the Las Vegas housing bubble. When it popped, he lost his home.
Photo by Krissy Clark
"Hello, and thank you for calling the Foreclosure Hotline!" is how the recording begins. "Did you know that nowadays you can buy a house for about 40 percent less than what it was going for just one year ago!" The voice, a barely controlled yell with an Italian accent, belongs to Alessandro Chiocchetti. He advertises his Foreclosure Hotline on hand-written signs all over Las Vegas. "That's called Italian creativity," he says.
Chiocchetti drives customers around in his late model Audi; it still has that new-car smell. He's lucky he bought it while his business was still booming; he might not be able to afford it now. Chiocchetti came to Las Vegas from Milan six years ago, just as the real-estate boom was kicking in to high gear. By 2005, at the peak of the market, he was making a killing: helping some folks buy dream houses, others sell them. And bringing in nice commissions either way. But his business came to an abrupt stop in 2007. The first wave of subprime borrowers was defaulting on loans, and as more homes went into foreclosure, the market collapsed.
Chiocchetti had to learn to adapt, fast. Now he specializes in helping people jump through the many hoops involved in buying foreclosed houses. Half his customers come from outside the United States. "I have many Canadians," he says. "Honestly, they find our prices quite ridiculous."
When he takes buyers to check out houses, he becomes an unwitting tour guide around Foreclosure City; each house is a window into another failed American dream. Chiocchetti says it can get depressing. But, he's got to make a living. If you see an opportunity to make money, you seize it. That's part of the American dream too, isn't it?
Chiocchetti never knows what to expect when he's showing houses to clients these days. "It can be dangerous," he says. Squatters live in some of the foreclosed houses now. Other homes are still occupied by owners looking for a buyer at almost any price. It's called short-selling: getting rid of the house for whatever it will sell for, and hoping the bank will agree to write off the rest. Chiocchetti is checking out one of these houses.
He rings the doorbell. A little boy peeks out. "They're here to take away our house!" he yells. A man comes to the door. His name is Mike Heger. That's his grandson, he says. Things are chaotic. They're moving out.
Boxes are stacked in the foyer, and on the curb a pile of books, kitchen utensils, old magazines, a pair of slippers. "Just stuff," Heger says, looking down at it. "All the various things we've accumulated."
Heger quit his construction job in Utah and moved to Las Vegas at the height of the housing boom in the early 2000s, to try his hand at buying and selling real estate. It was a lucrative business, a way to make big money, fast. Heger bought several houses in Las Vegas. Small-time speculators like him were all over the city then, making a living by flipping houses as values went up. Many people now blame these speculators for artificially driving up prices. But Heger ended up a victim too.
When the market collapsed, he couldn't sell his houses. One by one, he lost them all. He sold some at a loss in short sales. The bank took others. This house, the one he lives in with his family, is the last to go. He stopped making payments about a year ago. His family is moving into a rental unit across town, while their credit is still good enough to get a landlord to lease to them.
"It's a smaller house," he says, but he is trying to keep things in perspective. "It's all about having family together. You know, just keep family together." Heger has had no luck finding a new job; his family is living off the small savings he has left. But he is getting some offers on this house - for nearly $300,000 less than he bought it for, but offers all the same. It's a relief. If he can sell, at least he won't have another foreclosure on his credit. "So I'll be able to buy a new house a lot sooner," he says, already looking toward the future. "You can either panic with fear, and lose your house, and lose your mind. Or you can work something out, and you can actually thrive." He pauses. "I know I might sound like an optimistic fool, but there's always a way."
Back to Foreclosure City.





