Both sides lose in home sale that turned sour

updated 7:58 p.m. ET Nov. 16, 2008

ROSWELL, Ga. - Like all illegal immigrants, Lorenzo Jimenez knew the knock on the door from immigration agents could come at any time.

Still, he had enough faith in the American dream to buy a house in this Atlanta suburb, even though signing the papers meant raising the risk: He put his 2-year-old, American-born daughter's name and Social Security number on the title.

And it worked, for a while. Jimenez and his family lived happily enough for several years alongside "regular" citizens.

Nicole Griffin's mom lived a few doors away, and when Griffin visited, she said, her kids played with the Jimenez children. When Jimenez put his four-bedroom, two-bathroom home up for sale last spring, wanting more space, Griffin was immediately interested.

Fighting to stay here
A contract was negotiated but when the sale appeared to go sour, Griffin raised a new issue: that she was a citizen and Jimenez wasn't. She told local media, immigration officials, his boss and others that he was here illegally. She even put signs in the yard of the house exposing his residency status.

As a result, agents came knocking last month, and now Jimenez is fighting to keep from being deported. He also lost his job.

"I'm very sad and very worried," said Jimenez, 32. "I can't sleep because I'm thinking about my family. What's going to happen? I don't know."

Griffin insists her intent was to buy the house, nothing else. The 28-year-old single mother of two maintains she was wronged first, so she acted to protect her interests. She has no regrets.

"At the end, do I feel bad the family got in trouble? No, not at all," she said.

Those who enter the U.S. illegally often say they're just striving for the same things that most American citizens want out of life — a good job, home ownership, maybe a chance to get a little bit ahead. But the ambitions of citizens and non-citizens can collide and, as the painful entanglement between Jimenez and Griffin shows, both sides can wind up feeling like victims.

Jimenez, who is Mexican, has been in the U.S. for about a decade. When he bought the house four years ago, the real estate agent handling the sale told him he could get a better interest rate using his daughter's information on the closing documents than he could using the federal tax identification number he uses to pay income tax here.

Jimenez later filed papers to have his own name added to the title, and that's how it stayed until Griffin spotted the "for sale" sign and $164,500 list price this spring.

Disagreement over closing
With both sides enthusiastic about the sale, a deal was reached and the closing was set for May 15.

Griffin, a payroll clerk and first-time homebuyer, asked to postpone the closing until June 1 because she had problems locking in her interest rate. Jimenez agreed but asked that she move into the house as planned and pay rent until the closing.

Shortly after Griffin moved in, her attorney said there was a problem with the title on the house, namely that Jimenez's young daughter's name was on the title but her signature wasn't on the sale documents. Attorneys said some extra paperwork — establishing a conservatorship to watch out for the child's interest, the first step in getting the title transferred solely to her father — would clear the title, and everyone agreed to postpone again.

MORE FROM LIFE

Life Section Front

Report: States cut tobacco prevention funds Population shifts could boost Calif, N.Y. in census Fierce storm hits Midwest with snow, wind NYT: Millions in U.S. drink dirty water Hero pilot's hat goes on auction block U.S. settles royalty dispute with tribes Death Valley bones may be missing tourists H1N1 may be mildest pandemic on record Christmas story: Boy licks pole, gets stuck Utah man gets Purple Heart 42 years late Life Section Front   Add Life headlines to your news reader: