Inside the Countrywide Lending Spree

ON its way to becoming the nation's largest mortgage lender, the Countrywide Financial Corporation encouraged its sales force to court customers over the telephone with a seductive pitch that seldom varied. "I want to be sure you are getting the best loan possible," the sales representatives would say.

This week: The subprime crisis goes global, Robert Shiller on irrational exuberance, the plight of American industrial workers, and hedge fund contagion.

A Countrywide branch in Los Angeles.

But providing "the best loan possible" to customers wasn't always the bank's main goal, say some former employees. Instead, potential borrowers were often led to high-cost and sometimes unfavorable loans that resulted in richer commissions for Countrywide's smooth-talking sales force, outsize fees to company affiliates providing services on the loans, and a roaring stock price that made Countrywide executives among the highest paid in America.

Countrywide's entire operation, from its computer system to its incentive pay structure and financing arrangements, is intended to wring maximum profits out of the mortgage lending boom no matter what it costs borrowers, according to interviews with former employees and brokers who worked in different units of the company and internal documents they provided. One document, for instance, shows that until last September the computer system in the company's subprime unit excluded borrowers' cash reserves, which had the effect of steering them away from lower-cost loans to those that were more expensive to homeowners and more profitable to Countrywide.

Now, with the entire mortgage business on tenterhooks and industry practices under scrutiny by securities regulators and banking industry overseers, Countrywide's money machine is sputtering. So far this year, fearful investors have cut its stock in half. About two weeks ago, the company was forced to draw down its entire .5 billion credit line from a consortium of banks because it could no longer sell or borrow against home loans it has made. And last week, Bank of America invested billion for a 16 percent stake in Countrywide, a move that came amid speculation that Countrywide's survival was in question and that it had become a takeover target - notions that Countrywide publicly disputed.

Homeowners, meanwhile, drawn in by Countrywide sales scripts assuring "the best loan possible," are behind on their mortgages in record numbers. As of June 30, almost one in four subprime loans that Countrywide services was delinquent, up from 15 percent in the same period last year, according to company filings. Almost 10 percent were delinquent by 90 days or more, compared with last year's rate of 5.35 percent.

Many of these loans had interest rates that recently reset from low teaser levels to double digits; others carry prohibitive prepayment penalties that have made refinancing impossibly expensive, even before this month's upheaval in the mortgage markets.

To be sure, Countrywide was not the only lender that sold questionable loans with enormous fees during the housing bubble. And as real estate prices soared, borrowers themselves proved all too eager to participate, even if it meant paying high costs or signing up for a loan with an interest rate that would jump in coming years.

But few companies benefited more from the mortgage mania than Countrywide, among the most aggressive home lenders in the nation. As such, the company is Exhibit A for the lax and, until recently, highly lucrative lending that has turned a once-hot business ice cold and has touched off a housing crisis of historic proportions.

"In terms of being unresponsive to what was happening, to sticking it out the longest, and continuing to justify the garbage they were selling, Countrywide was the worst lender," said Ira Rheingold, executive director of the National Association of Consumer Advocates. "And anytime states tried to pass responsible lending laws, Countrywide was fighting it tooth and nail."

Started as Countrywide Credit Industries in New York 38 years ago by Angelo R. Mozilo, a butcher's son from the Bronx, and David Loeb, a founder of a mortgage banking firm in New York, who died in 2003, the company has become a 0 billion home loan machine with 62,000 employees, 900 offices and assets of 0 billion. Countrywide's stock price was up 561 percent over the 10 years ended last December.

Mr. Mozilo has ridden this remarkable wave to immense riches, thanks to generous annual stock option grants. Rarely a buyer of Countrywide shares - he has not bought a share since 1987, according to Securities and Exchange Commission filings - he has been a huge seller in recent years. Since the company listed its shares on the New York Stock Exchange in 1984, he has reaped 6 million selling Countrywide stock.

As the subprime mortgage debacle began to unfold this year, Mr. Mozilo's selling accelerated. Filings show that he made 9 million from stock sales during the last 12 months, or almost one-third of the entire amount he has reaped over the last 23 years. He still holds 1.4 million shares in Countrywide, a 0.24 percent stake that is worth .4 million.