Everything we've suspected about mortgage brokers represented in one sickening expose from Seattle

WARNING: If you've recently eaten, let your food digest a bit before your read this piece today from Seattle about a mortgage broker business running out of control.

This is what we get folks when there's no regulation and no oversight of a business that effects nearly 70% of America, and represents the largest financial transaction of people's entire lives.

This is frankly disgusting. And predictable. Enjoy.

The party's over at Kirkland mortgage company

Former Washington Huskies football player Scott Greenlaw led the mortgage company he founded to dizzying heights — 400 employees, a sprawling new headquarters and kegs of beer at staff meetings. Now he's selling his house to avoid bankruptcy as creditors line up with lawsuits.

The sudden demise in May of one of Washington's largest mortgage brokerages has left a trail of angry ex-employees, expensive lawsuits, unpaid taxes and government investigations.

It seems a quick turn of events for a former college football star who'd cobbled together $225,000 to start a company in 2001 that grew to more than 400 employees. Merit claimed to write more than $2 billion in loans and Greenlaw basked in its glow as it made him a millionaire publicity magnet.

Now all of that is gone. However, pointed questions about his lack of leadership and poor judgment, including his buying kegs of beer for business meetings, remain.

Some wonder if the company's demise hinged on its practice of hiring jocks and stunning but inexperienced young loan officers and managing them loosely. Still

"We had all these leads coming in," Greenlaw recalled. "So we hired more loan officers. I hired a lot of like-minded individuals — Washington State, UW graduates who'd been in fraternities and played sports. We formed a strong brotherhood."

Greenlaw was one of many mortgage-business newcomers who saw gold in doing refinances. His target clients: tarnished borrowers whose credit problems qualified them only for expensive — and highly profitable — subprime loans.

Merit enticed them with mass mailings announcing "Interest Rate Reduction Notification" from the "Department of Loan Reprocessing" in big print and Merit only as a tiny footnote. Mailings also bore an official-looking eagle emblem that smacked of a government mailing.

Such tactics constitute deceptive and misleading trade practices, according to a Washington State Department of Financial Institutions. But Merit was never penalized.

The problem with much of mortgage lending, Greenlaw told the Business Journal, was that loan officers lacked sufficient training and accountability.

"You could be selling shoes yesterday and making loans tomorrow," he said in a 2004 interview. "Ninety percent of our population has the majority of their money in their home, yet we have people out there who are uneducated, who do not have a lot of experience in the business, who are not being managed correctly."

Some loan officers, including Kerrie Saulness, came to Merit with years of loan experience. However, many had none and got their jobs by word of mouth along the Eastside club scene's grapevine.

Merit employees proudly posted their résumés, plus photos of their luxury cars and drinking parties, on various Web sites. One loan officer had come to work fresh from being a Hooters Girl. Another solicited clients for two endeavors: writing mortgages for Merit and selling marijuana paraphernalia on the side.

The lure was fast money. Recent high-school graduates with scant work experience but a flair for phone sales could earn $100,000 or more a year in commissions.

Merit's loan officers executed mortgages that were so flawed that the investors who bought the loans from Merit forced them to buy them back.