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Man's childhood home goes into foreclosure

He has fought his brother, the city and the county for the house - and lost each time.

By ROBIN STEIN
Published January 28, 2007

TARPON SPRINGS - When a house worth $100,000 has racked up three times its value in code violations, there's no point to tidying the flower beds.

This was the lesson Michael Stergos learned from his failed, two-year struggle to stop the city from foreclosing on his childhood home.

The defeat became official this month, and the gray clapboard cottage will be auctioned off in early February. Almost certainly, the high bid will come from the Tarpon Springs.

Considering that the property has amassed $322,825 in fines since 2001, the city's crackdown hardly seems rash. But Stergos said he was misled, forced on a wild bureaucratic chase and "railroaded" by officials hiding behind a cryptic enforcement process.

"It's a city that's greedy, that doesn't care at all about the welfare of the citizens," Stergos said.

Assistant City Attorney Thomas Trask said Stergos has only himself to blame.

"The bottom line is after two years of trying to get the case resolved, we realized it just wasn't going to happen," Trask said. "The city is not concerned whether he makes a buck or not."

* * *

Stergos, 68, is a retired business consultant from Tampa, fighting prostate cancer. He has not lived at 522 W Spruce St. for 28 years, when he and his siblings inherited the home from their mother.

But it has always been a problem, Stergos said.

"The house itself isn't fit for human occupation," he said.

Now, there is just a barren, decrepit structure standing in a tuft of overgrown weeds. It's actually in good condition, Stergos said, compared with when his "deadbeat" brother lived there.

Stergos and his sister each inherited 40 percent of the house. Their younger brother, given 20 percent, bullied de facto control.

For years, Stergos said his brother steadily dismantled the place, never paying a cent for rent or repairs.

"He was building a boat in the back yard ... He even built an engine in one of the bedrooms and cut a hole in the floor to take it outside," Stergos said. "Why did we let him live there is a long story of violence and threats."

On any attempt to discuss the conditions, his brother "cussed and rant and raved and told the neighbors off," Stergos said.

Once, Stergos said, he and his sister got word that their brother was coming to shoot them and had to hide out in a motel.

Stergos resigned himself to just paying property taxes and insurance and hiring someone to take care of the yard.

He moved to Tampa but said Tarpon Springs remained his hometown. He was vice chairman of the city's business alliance, oversaw seasonal festivals and founded its sister city program.

But Stergos' civic honors were always dimmed by the shame on Spruce Street.

"I didn't really want this to go public," he said. "I have some pride, and that's why I paid taxes all these years."

By the time his brother moved out two years ago, the damage was irreversible.

Matter of pride

Stergos said he first learned of the code violations and fines in early 2005, from a registered letter from the court. Right away, he hired an attorney and contacted city officials.

The city issued two citations in 2001 - one for unkept yard, the other for "structural deficiencies." Fines increased at a clip of $175 per day; by 2005, it amounted to more than $300,000 in liens.

Stergos was determined to salvage something - hoping to recoup some of the 28-year investment, or at least a semblance of honor.

"It was a thing of pride. I didn't want to see my parents' house end up the way it is," he said.

In spring 2005, Stergos met with the city manager, the city attorney and a potential buyer.

City officials objected to the buyer, but Stergos was told the city would be willing to settle the fines for $10,000 and attorney's fees, once he had arranged a demolition.

He said they worked out a plan: After he fixed the violations, the city would issue an "affidavit of compliance," reduce the fines and cease the foreclosure suit.

Stergos applied for a demolition permit and secured a grant from the county.

No guarantees

Just days before the house was to be razed, though, Stergos was contacted by a prospective buyer. The real estate company proposed to pay $99,000 and reimburse Stergos' tax payments, but it wanted the house left standing so it could be repaired.

When Stergos delayed demolition to consult with the city, the county revoked his grant. If the deal was rejected, he would have to reapply.

To keep the plan on track, Stergos focused on confronting the other violations.

What he did not realize was the plan offered no guarantees. In fact, the key part would actually require the city to violate its own laws.

The code prohibits reducing fines once the foreclosure process is under way. The city filed the lawsuit in this case in January 2005.

City officials said this was explained to Stergos. There were a handful of exceptions over the years, so Stergos had a chance. They worked with him for two years, laying out what he needed to do to come into compliance.

"The city is always attempting ... to help the property owner to get into compliance," Trask said.

When Stergos met a code inspector at the property in April, he was recovering from two shoulder surgeries.

Several tasks seemed "extreme," he said, but he rented a trailer, hired a helper, cleared the lot and, within five days, completed each fix. He said he even tended to the clamshells bordering the flower beds.

The code inspector submitted an "affidavit of compliance" that the city's code enforcement board approved in May.

Stergos said the city instructed him to file the settlement petition. At this point, he said, the city could have all of the $99,000 from the sale; he just wanted the dizzying process to end.

"It's made me a nervous wreck at a time when I'm going through cancer treatment," he said. "I've lost what I've lost; I didn't care if (the city) took the whole thing as long as they cleared me of it."

'Almost a criminal'

On August 10, Stergos' appeal was on the seven-person code enforcement board agenda.

Following instructions from Trask, he had compiled a petition and submitted it to the city two months earlier. He detailed the history of the house, his brother, the upkeep, efforts to resolve fines and the terms of the offer on the table.

Stergos looked on as board members discussed his situation. At first, several voiced support, saying his brother seemed like a "horror story" and Stergos "had gone the extra mile" paying the taxes and bills.

But before it went to a vote, Trask interjected with a cautionary note. Granting Stergos' petition would be a violation of city rules, he said, which the board was free to do, and had done in the past.

Another member piped in. He conceded he had not read the entire petition but saw no reason to treat Stergos as an exception, given how many years he allowed the conditions to persist.

"The lady died in 2001," he said, giving Stergos plenty of time to pursue legal avenues to evict his brother.

Yet it was only when a buyer emerged promising some money that Stergos got around to fixing violations, he said. The member pointed out that Stergos was still not in compliance, because one of the two violations was still unresolved.

Sitting in the audience, Stergos readied his retort. First, his mother died 30 years ago, not in 2001; the demolition grant was revoked; the appeal was filed at the direction of city staff; and he did not care if the city took all of the proceeds from the sale.

But when he began to explain, Stergos was immediately stopped. Only board members could speak during proceedings, the court officer told him. City rules, he said. Appeals are made in written petition; no further testimony is permitted.

The board voted 5-2 denying his petition. The fines stood; the foreclosure would proceed.

"I felt like almost a criminal when I left that place," Stergos said.

Trask said he had personally warned Stergos that it was up to the board to reduce fines.

Stergos said he was blindsided and the city violated his due process. He complained to the FBI and the American Civil Liberties Union, but both advised him to find a lawyer.

Now, with his credit ruined by the foreclosure, he said he and his wife are using retirement funds to pay tens of thousands of dollars for cancer treatments.

Asked if he was planning to try to buy the house when it goes to auction Feb. 7, Stergos seemed surprised the sale was so soon but said he had no plans to make an offer.

The City Commission, on the other hand, has authorized bids for as much as $322,825.

[Last modified January 27, 2007, 18:41:09]