“Gordon, there’s a fellow living in your basement.” My neighbor’s words in Mesa, Arizona, sent my wife, Ardis, and me driving fourteen hundred miles back to Iowa. We had left our son, Brett, in charge of checking our house while we wintered south. Instead, he had moved his girlfriend, Jade, and her younger brother, Austin, into our home and was collecting $600 a month in rent.

When we arrived, Austin opened the door believing Brett owned the house. He had paid rent in good faith after losing his apartment. I was furious, but I told him he wouldn’t be put out into the freezing cold. Then Jade revealed that Brett had lost his factory job just before Christmas. He’d been hiding the truth from us for months.