Alicia Romero said she and her family were living the American dream – until it all turned into a nightmare about four years ago. The Tucson, Ariz., resident was happily expecting her third child. Her husband, who had recently received his commercial driver’s license, was launching a trucking business with her. They owned their own home. But with the baby coming and the business to consider, they needed a bigger house with more land – enough to park the big rig. They worked with a family contact they trusted to buy a place, and trusted him when he said they would make it, said Romero, who participated in Catholic Charities USA’s Centennial Leadership Summit April 29 in Chicago. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, “you could call it the perfect predatory loan package,” said Romero, now 42. Her children are 11, 9 and 4. There were two mortgages on the property with total monthly payments, at the beginning, of about $1,500. Then the payments ratcheted up. At the same time, fuel price spike sharply higher and road taxes went up. There was no way the family could make the payments. “I sold everything I had,” she said. “I sold my furniture. I sold my kids’ toys. They wanted to help.” She approached government agencies for help, but they wouldn’t do anything because the family wasn’t poor enough. Then she tried the Pio Decimo Center of Catholic Community Services of Tucson. They made calls and tried to get her loan modified, but they had no success. “It was like I was flying a plane and doing everything I could not to crash, but at a certain point, I knew we were going to crash,” she said. The family lost their home in June 2007. Romero took the kids and moved in with her parents. Her husband, whom she said felt like a failure, moved in with his sister. Catholic Community Services came to their aid, moving the family into transitional housing, where they could be together. Romero got hired as an administrative assistant at the Pio Decimo Center; her husband got a job with an agency that provides transportation to disabled people. Now three years later, Romero’s husband is going to go back to school to study electrical engineering. She is now a housing counselor at the Pio Decimo Center, helping other people avoid the kind of financial trap she fell into. “I talk to lenders who have these loans, and they know the people will never be able to pay them,” she said. “They get so mad at me when I tell people that if you sign this, you will lose your home.” This fall, it will be three years since the foreclosure was filed on their last home. The Romeros believe they will be able to make a down payment and move into a new home at that time. “We’re starting all over,” she said. “But we’ll have a home we’ll never have to leave.”