Post-Tribune |

Inflated housing market causes deflated reaction from this clueless homeowner

I’m a wordsmith, not a numbers nerd, yet I couldn’t miss the eye-catching jump in my home property assessment, from $159,000 in 2017 to $181,500 in 2018.

Predictable questions immediately popped up: Why did my home’s assessment go up so much in one year? Was a mistake made by the assessor’s office? Should I file an appeal? And, is my home actually worth that much on the market?

I usually ignore these fluctuations of my annual assessment. Not because I don’t care, but because I’m admittedly ignorant about these things. I’ve never appealed any of these assessments. I typically do nothing, instead allowing the bank to adjust the escrow amount with my mortgage payments.

The tax documents I regularly receive go directly from the mailbox to a stack of related bills in my office. I give only a cursory glance at the dizzying array of figures, line-item explanations, and fine-print details.

“Gross assessed value of homestead property.”

“Total property tax liability.”

“Gross property tax distribution amounts applicable to this property.”

Ugh. My knee-jerk reaction is as simple as I am: Just tell me how much more money I need to pay in taxes next year. That is, until I received this year’s assessment, with that noticeable hike of $22,500.

Did I forget about any substantial upgrades to my modest home? Was a built-in swimming pool added behind my back? Did I somehow annex part of a neighbor’s yard? Was my postage stamp-sized property expanded by the county? Uh, no.

I contacted the Porter County Assessor’s office to ask a few questions. Not as a curious columnist, but as a clueless homeowner.

“Talk to me like I’m a 5-year-old,” I told Porter County Assessor Jon Snyder, who was kind enough to sit down with me and explain my assessment in layman’s terms.

Snyder agreed that the jump of $22,500 on my bill was noticeably high, and that it should catch the attention of any homeowner.

“OK, good,” I replied. “So I’m not out of line to ask about it?”

Of course not, Snyder replied. Homeowners across the county not only ask about it, but they also appeal it. Some do it politely. Others do it angrily.

He helped decode some of the assessor-speak language in the documents I received. He also pointed out that although my assessment went up $22,500, my property taxes went up only $230. I overlooked this figure, which is more important, while freaking out about the assessment hike.

Snyder also pointed out on my bill where all my tax money goes.

“It’s right here under Table 3,” he said matter-of-factly.

I’ve never in my life even glanced at Table 3. The only tables I study have salt and pepper shakers on them, I told Snyder. Financial tables are above my intelligence level. So we tabled that discussion for another time.

However, the curious columnist in me asked about one line-item distribution of my tax payments, labeled “SPECIAL UNIT.”

“What the hell is a special unit?” I asked.

“I don’t know either,” Snyder replied.

I became intrigued.

“Aha!” I thought. My simpleton powers of deduction concluded that Porter County homeowners may be getting scammed by this “special unit” deduction. This mysterious line item jumped up 20.53 percent this year on my bill, I noticed.

I wondered why I wasn’t studying this tax bill for the past 30 years.

Snyder suggested I talk with Portage Township Assessor Alta Neri about my assessment and this special unit mystery.

Neri explained that my home’s assessed value went up due to the increase in the market factor, which she usually bases home and property assessments. This includes the style of home, the primary year that homes were built in each neighborhood, and the market sales of homes in that area.

“If there are not enough sales in the neighborhood to trend it by itself, I combine the sales with a comparable neighborhood,” Neri said. “Your home is a ranch-style house, built in 2000, but the primary year built of the homes in your neighborhood is 1960.”

By comparison, my humble abode is much newer, therefore more marketable, she said.

The sale per square foot for ranch houses in my neighborhood, and the comparable neighborhoods combined in the ratio study, averages to $100.21. The average price per square foot for the assessed value is $94.98.

“The cause of the difference is that buyers are paying more for the property than what it’s assessed for, which is driving up the assessed values,” Neri concluded.

Ah, I see.

In other words, there is an inflated housing market and my bill reflects it. Your bill also may reflect it, considering that I’m hearing similar gripes or questions from other Northwest Indiana homeowners.

Chicago homeowners also are seeing dramatic changes in the estimated value that will be used to determine their property tax bill next year, according to a Chicago Tribune story I read last week. (The newspaper’s investigation, “The Tax Divide,” can be read at www.chicagotribune.com/news/watchdog/taxdivide/.)

Neri and Snyder are familiar with this ongoing trend, and the homeowners’ appeals it generates, though the 45-day grace period for appeals has passed, I learned.

Snyder gave me a helpful brochure on how his office works, and a simple guide on the assessment process. I didn’t realize that his office oversees 12 townships and more than 80,000 parcels of land.

I suggest if you have similar concerns or questions about your assessment or tax bill, a simple call or a face-to-face meeting with your township assessor can be quite helpful. Especially if you’re a numbers Luddite such as me.

Still, Neri also didn’t know anything about that “special unit” deduction. She suggested I contact Porter County Auditor Vicki Urbanik.

Urbanik told me it’s for the Porter County Airport.

“There was a change in how this airport rate is classified so that’s why it is now identified as ‘special unit,’” she explained. “The same change occurred on our tax rate chart.”

Oh. Mystery solved.