Americans Struggle Through a Day in the Recession

It's a rainy spring morning and Tamara Ogier plants herself at a table in a Spartan room in the Atlanta federal courthouse, computer and tape recorder at hand, ready to hear another day's stories of financial ruin.

In this photo taken Wednesday, April 1, 2009, Best Value Jewelry Pawn co-manager Greg Childress shows some jewelry to customer Denise Torgersen, 16, at the store in Fort Pierce, Fla. (AP Photo/Steve Mitchell)

(AP)

Couples facing foreclosure. Down-and-out real estate agents. Merchants who've shut their doors. Some clutch folders, some couples hold on to each other as they sit on pew-like benches, waiting to tell the court-appointed bankruptcy trustee how they ended up deep in debt.

"I understand the assumption that we're the guys in the black hats," Ogier says, but "there are a lot of times when I'm actually able to do a lot of good."

It's a sunny morning 745 miles away, as Jerry Miller tools along Iowa's back roads, grumbling about folks who can't manage their money. He has just one credit card. He has no debts, but at almost 75, he feels he needs to keep working just to keep pace. He wonders, too, if he'll have to sacrifice for other people's mistakes.

"I can't believe because they got themselves in this situation, it's falling on us to pay it back," he says, heading to the first pharmacy where he'll make deliveries on this day. "Lord, you're going to set a college kid loose with a credit card? Buy a house that costs ten times your salary?"

He punctuates his disapproval with his favorite expression: Pffffft.

It's morning in America — but it's not a good morning.

The nation is suffering in a deep recession, there's no denying that: Unemployment is at its highest level in more than 25 years. The auto industry is on the skids. Foreclosure and for-sale signs are as common in some communities as street lights.

And more bleak days seem to be ahead.

Many private economists expect the monthly jobless rate will climb to 10 percent by the end of the year — it already has surpassed that level in states such as Michigan, South Carolina and Rhode Island.

The bankruptcy rate is rising, too. Nearly 1.2 million debtors filed for bankruptcy in a year period ending in April, according to federal court records collected and analyzed by The Associated Press. In March, nearly 131,000 sought bankruptcy protection — an increase of 46 percent over a year earlier.

Those are the numbers. Then there are the people.

This is the story of one day, and how Americans spent those hours in the shadow of economic distress, from worried debtors in a Georgia courthouse to a prospective home buyer in Michigan, from a worker in the Rhode Island food pantry to an Arizona contractor struggling to find jobs.

On this April day, no one person typifies hard times: In California, it's a homeless Army Reservist who joined up when he couldn't find work and sleeps in his 17-year-old car. In Florida, it's a Jaguar-driving pawn shop customer who sells DVDs for gas money. In South Carolina, it's an unemployed factory worker who finds comfort in prayer.

And in Greenwich, Conn., home to hedge fund billionaires, it's David Rabin, who lost his $100,000 job last October as a senior vice president for a small financial services firm. He spends part of his morning in his basement, job hunting.

In better times, Rabin would be preparing for his annual spring golfing trip with three buddies at his condo in Myrtle Beach, S.C. Instead, the 48-year-old Rabin, wearing jeans, a blue hockey sweat shirt and white sneakers, is poring over Monster.com and other online job boards. He sends out 10 resumes a day, but has had few nibbles in six months.

A day earlier, he learned he didn't get a job recruiting members for a gym. That hurt.

"I didn't sleep a freakin' wink," he says. "If I don't fit that job, what the hell am I going to do?"

Rabin's wife, Lauren, has a marketing job. And he receives $476 weekly unemployment — about a quarter of his former salary — that runs out in July. Both checks keep them afloat.

Rabin copes by keeping busy. He and Lauren compile a daily list of chores. Each time he completes one, he checks off a box.

Today's list: Drive his 19-year-old son to school. Search online for cheaper auto and home insurance. (No luck there.) Look for work; his target area has expanded to Buffalo, N.Y., Ohio and Florida — any city where he has friends or relatives. Walk the dog. Buy flip flops for his Florida-bound wife. Work out at the YMCA. Paint the basement.

"You have no idea how humbling all this is," he says. "It's extremely humbling. I'm ready to go to Stop & Shop and start bagging groceries."

"I've been in this situation before and I wasn't nearly as frightened," he says. "This is the Great Recession we're in."

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But watching Jim Juristy work, you wouldn't know that we're in hard times.

A nursing supervisor in Morgantown, W.Va., Juristy will spend his 12-hour shift at Ruby Memorial Hospital trying to fill jobs, calling, cajoling and charming nurses to come to work.

Not only is Juristy in a relatively secure profession, but he lives in a thriving area (the county's jobless rate is a relatively low 4 percent), home of West Virginia University and some recession-proof employers.