When You Think You're Having A Bad Day, Remind Yourself It Could Always Be Worse. You Could Be This Poor Chicago Resident Who Had Squatters Move Into His House, Refuse To Leave And The City Won't Remove, So They Are Now Forced To Live With Them
ABC 7 Chicago - A Chicago man says he did the unthinkable when he discovered alleged squatters in his property: He decided to move in with them.
Marco Velazquez is the owner of a South Side property, which is on the market to be sold. He says his realtor came by with a potential buyer, but there were already people inside.
"I couldn't believe it. It was like a nightmare," Velazquez said.
Velazquez says a woman named Shermaine and her boyfriend, Codarro, moved in, claiming they recently purchased the property.
He says the couple showed police this mortgage document, but Cook County confirmed that they do not see that mortgage on-record.
Velazquez's realtor recorded a video as the couple explained to police that they had a right to be there.
"The worst thing happened, when police told me they couldn't do anything. It needs to go to a civil court," Velazquez said.
He says police told them that under Illinois' current law, they could not remove anyone.
"I said, 'I'm not going to leave.' Called a couple friends, stayed overnight and I knew they were not going to like that," Velazquez said.
Velazquez says he, his wife and their friends spent the night with the alleged squatters.
"We stayed in the living room, watching the door. They stayed in one of the bedrooms," Velazquez said. "We stayed a whole night with them."
Hey Big T, I'll see your blog about this poor bastard who got stuck living with his roommate's girlfriend and their newborn baby, and raise you this roommate from hell scenario.
So this poor guy Marco, he decides he’s finally done with the South Side grind. Lists his house, lines up a realtor, gets the lawn mowed, hides the weird stains on the carpet with strategically placed furniture. All the usual steps. Then one day, mid-showing, his phone rings.
It’s his realtor.
And she’s whispering like she’s reporting from behind enemy lines: “Hey… uh… there are people living here.”
Marco’s like, “What do you mean people?”
She goes, “Like… people. A man and a woman. Watching TV. There’s a dog too.”
So Marco flies over there expecting squatters, probably crackhead junkies, maybe a break-in. But when he walks in? It’s two fully grown adults, barefoot, comfortable, talking about refinancing and air fryer recipes. And they don’t even flinch when they see him.
Instead, they go full Jedi mind trick. And hand him a piece of paper and say, “We own this house.”
The paper is a janky-looking mortgage bill printed off what had to be a CVS photo kiosk.
No signatures, no title, just enough official language to confuse someone’s aunt on Facebook.
So Marco calls the cops.
Cops show up, shrug like UPS drivers. “Yeah, this is civil. You’ll have to take ‘em to court.”
Marco's s like, “So let me get this straight, I pay the mortgage, I pay the taxes, and now I gotta take two strangers to court because they claim they bought my house using Microsoft Word and a glue stick?”
Apparently, yes. Yes it is. That’s exactly how this works in the upside-down world that is Cook County.
So Marco does what any homeowner who doesn’t want his house turned into a crackden would do. He moves back in.
Now picture this- a three-bedroom, one-bath house. With three adults and a dog cohabitating like it’s some nightmare version of Big Brother: Chicago Edition.
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It’s not even clear who’s in charge of what.
Marco's still paying the electric bill because God forbid the AC cuts out and one of these squatters starts lighting candles like they’re setting a mood.
The woman keeps ordering Uber Eats with his address.
The guy keeps parking on the lawn.
There’s a half-smoked Black & Mild on the porch every morning and someone keeps putting empty grape soda cans on the windowsill like they’re collecting them.
The bathroom situation is a straigh tup hostage negotiation.
Marco’s toothbrush lives in his bedroom now like a trauma survivor.
The toilet paper vanishes faster than a stimulus check, and someone had the nerve to install one of those fuzzy toilet seat covers like they’re redecorating. Fake eyelash extensions are everywhere.
The food situatiion? Don’t even start.
Marco’s grocery bill has doubled and somehow he’s eating less. Guy is losing weight.
The squatters are cooking full meals every night, frying fish at 10 p.m., stinking up the whole house like a Long John Silver’s caught on fire.
Marco cooked up a frozen pizza once, and came back 15 minutes later to find two slices missing and someone had put ranch and hot sauce on the rest of it.
Marco's yard looks like Jumanji.
He finally cuts the lawn out of shame, and the squatter yells from the window, “Ay, appreciate you, boss.”
Like he’s the landscaper.
At this point, Marco doesn’t even know who’s winning.
Every day he comes home from work to find one of them posted up on his couch, in his T-shirt, watching his Netflix like they’re paying rent in karma points.
And legally?
He can’t do jack shit until the court date, which may or may not happen sometime between now and 2030.
So yeah, the guy tries to sell his house, winds up with two grifting strangers, a mystery dog, and a bathroom that smells like cocoa butter and menthols.
Welcome to Chicago, where squatters have more rights than the owner and the American Dream now includes mandatory housemates you didn’t ask for.
p.s. - Jokes aside, this is crazy town.
The next morning, Velazquez said, he realized they were not budging."They were like, we want $8,000 of what we paid, so we can leave your property," Velazquez said.Velazquez says they negotiated. He had the couple sign a cash-for-key agreement and paid them $4,300 to leave.
"We didn't want to give them money, but we heard really bad stories about squatters taking over properties for six, eight, 10 months, even a year,"
Velazquez said.Velazquez said weeks later, a Chicago police detective informed him that one of the alleged squatters is the same woman accused of squatting in Marcia and Calrton Lee's home, after leaving his property.
Powell had been arrested weeks earlier after being accused of squatting in another South Side home.She was charged with burglary, forgery, obstructing identification and criminal residential trespassing.
Under current Illinois law, police cannot remove any suspected squatters unless the homeowner goes through a months-long eviction process. Powell said she was “innocent until proven guilty” after being accused of being a squatter.
Excuse me for applying common sense to Illinois policy and law, but wouldn't this be no different than grand larceny?
I didn't end up getting my JD, but my Loyola education taught me that -
In Illinois, grand larceny is defined under the Illinois Compiled Statutes (720 ILCS 5/16-1). The severity of the charges and penalties depends on the value of the stolen property and the circumstances of the theft.
Class X Felony: Property valued over $1,000,000, punishable by 6 to 30 years in prison and fines up to $25,000.
Common sense would also point out that a mortgage statement doesn't provide proof of ownership. A deed/title does.
How is this different from a repo man coming to repossess your car and tow it away, and you showing him your car payment bill as proof that you "own the car"? He's telling you to pay your bills, towing your car, and laughing in your face. And so will the police if you're dumb enough to call them. Because you don't have a title. But it's different when it comes to houses?