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For family, life is free without debt

Proud cheapskates repaid $172,000, pay only with cash – and they say you can, too.

By Elizabeth Leland
eleland@charlotteobserver.com

ROCK HILL Travise Smith got fed up with being in debt, and decided to do something about it.

The first thing you should know about Travise is this: When she decides to do something, she's hard to stop.

Like the time she packed up and moved from Charlotte to Greenville, S.C., to find a husband. She was 23, working for Duke Power and took a second job at a men's clothing store because, she reasoned, what better place to meet a man? Adrian Smith walked into the store one night and – you guessed it – a year later they married.

After three years together, in 2002, they had racked up $172,000 in debt.

They owed $95,000 on the house, $46,000 on her Lincoln Navigator, $24,000 on his Dodge Ram truck, $5,000 to Rhodes Furniture for their bedroom suite and $2,000 to Lowe's for the riding lawn mower and other yard tools.

They owed more than they could afford, so they juggled paying their bills. One month they skipped the light bill; the next month, the water bill; the next month, the telephone bill.

It was a crazy, stressful way to live.

Two things happened that convinced them to change. Their pastor preached in a Bible study class that debt is a burden affecting not only your living, but also your giving. Around the same time, Adrian heard radio host Dave Ramsey advocating a debt-free life.

Travise (pronounced TRAY-vis) and Adrian decided to try.

Painful start

First to go was the Navigator. Not that Travise didn't love, absolutely love, driving around in that big black SUV. “Oh honey,” she said, “I looked good in that Lincoln Navigator!” But. “We couldn't afford it.”

They replaced it with a 1972 VW bug that cost them $600.

Adrian, who was working for BellSouth, took a second job cleaning offices every weeknight for nearly a year. Travise sold toys, clothes, “anything that wasn't nailed down” at the flea market. She designed Web sites for churches. She clipped coupons and reduced their weekly food budget, for the two of them and two young sons, to $80. She got a job as a loan officer with a mortgage company.

“Once we paid off the first debt, we used the money we had been paying every month toward that debt to pay down other debts,” Adrian said. “It took a lot of discipline. Most people think you're weird because you're not going out to eat after church. It wasn't always easy.”

Little by little, they whittled away at what they owed.

Last to go was their house. They sold it, and rented a smaller, two-bedroom house without central heat or air.

Walking the walk

Travise, who is 35, became so convinced about the merits of living debt-free, she counseled clients to try it.

She refused to sign off on mortgages for some people, including Latonya and Richard Leach. They had been pre-approved for a loan by another mortgage company when they met with Travise.

She told them they couldn't afford a bigger payment.

Her straight talk upset Latonya. She wanted a bigger house. She didn't like being turned down.

“Travise said to us, ‘I've got to sleep at night and six months to a year from now, when you lose your home or go into foreclosure or realize you shouldn't have done this, I don't want you calling me.'”

Travise sent them home with suggestions jotted down on neon pink sticky-notes.

Latonya and Richard got to talking and eventually concluded that Travise just might be right. Not only about the house. But about the whole debt-free thing. They stayed where they were. They took their son out of private school. They canceled one of two credit cards. They started saving.

Now, several years later, Latonya and Travise are friends, and Latonya is studying to be a nurse, something she could not have afforded with a bigger mortgage.

Free at last

For Travise and Adrian, it took 29 months to wipe out their debt.

When they finally paid off the last of the bills, they felt liberated. Less worry. Less stress. No more fussing over money.

“It was,” Adrian said, “a joyous occasion.”

They began saving for a down payment on a new house. An affordable mortgage, they believe, is an investment, not a debt.

They paid $50 on eBay for architectural plans. After they saved enough to begin building, they worked as the general contractor, and bought materials at discount prices. When they closed on their new 4,400-square-foot home, they had saved enough to put down 20 percent, keeping the mortgage low enough to afford on one salary. Just in case.

Just in case came two months later, in December 2007, when Travise lost her job.

They cut back even more.

They withdrew Camryn, 9, and Colby, 7, from the after-school program, saving $110 a week. They put off buying furniture, and still don't have any in the dining room and not much in the kitchen. They instituted the 24-hour rule: Before buying anything over $30, they wait a day to make sure they really need it. And if their sons want something, they know to ask if it's in the budget.

“It's all about choosing to do it,” Travise said. “I'm a firm believer that, even if you have two incomes, you should only live on one. If I go back to work, every dime would go into savings.”

A lot of people would be wise to do what Travise and Adrian are doing, said Mary Quinn of Charlotte Saves, which offers financial workshops. “Drastic times,” she said, “call for drastic measures.”

Preaching parsimony

If Travise gets in line behind you at Target, don't be surprised if she demands to know how you're going to pay off your credit card if you buy all that stuff in your cart.

She pays with cash. No credit. Ever.

You may wonder who this pushy stranger is, and what right she has butting into your business. Some people have told her so, in harsher words.

That doesn't stop Travise. She preaches debt-free living everywhere she goes, at school, the grocery store, church.

You'll have more money. But money is not what motivates Travise and Adrian. They want you to use your financial freedom to help other people. Their message is rooted in their Christian faith, though they said it applies to everyone.

You'll have more time to volunteer, more money to tithe.

Travise volunteers about 20 hours a week at Finley Road Elementary in Rock Hill. She's on call with the Red Cross and spent two weeks in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina.

“The Bible says owe no man nothing but love,” she said. “We've been able to help other people. Everybody doesn't have extra money, but if you've got time sometimes that helps more than anything else.”

Which cooker are you?

Travise uses three kitchen appliances to make her point about people and their money:

The microwave: “I will buy it today on credit and pay for it later. I have to have it quick quick quick!”

The pressure cooker: “I am living paycheck to paycheck with no savings and about to explode!”

The crock pot: “I can save and wait for things I want and buy what I need today!”

Travise and Adrian have experienced all three. They're now living life as slow cookers, debt-free and happier.

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