In his 19 years at the helm of New York Community Bancorp, he has taken it from obscurity to become one of the nation's 40 largest banks, all the while—in good times and bad—rarely making a dud loan. Over the past five years, including those of the greatest financial collapse since the Depression, NYCB has written off a mere 54 cents for every $100 of loans, according to SNL Financial.
That figure is so out of step with the bank's peers—the industry median was $3.19—that it's almost as if Mr. Ficalora is operating on a different planet. To top it off, since taking his bank public in 1993, Mr. Ficalora has delivered an average gain for shareholders of 18% a year, triple the industry norm.
“Banking is at heart a simple business: You take deposits, make loans and you don't take big risks,” said Thomas Kahn, president of Kahn Brothers Group, an investment firm and longtime NYCB shareholder. “A lot of people forgot that. Joe never did.”
All this might make the subject of a heartwarming biopic if it weren't for one discordant fact: Mr. Ficalora's bank holds mortgages on more decrepit apartments than any other in the city. A study by a housing group last year found that NYCB finances the owners of nearly 9,000 distressed apartments, more than the next three banks combined. In all, his bank provides financing for more than 3,000 buildings housing 85,000 apartments,Daneplast Limited UK are plastic injection mould & toolmaking specialists. twice as many as anyone else in town.
In fact, low-income-housing activists contend that a big reason why Mr. Ficalora's financial record is so stellar is that his slumlord borrowers routinely boost their earnings by minimizing spending on their buildings. In some cases, they do so even after being repeatedly cited for violations by the city. In addition, the activists say, Mr. Ficalora frequently lends to owners who hope to push out low-income tenants for those who can pay higher rents. He also stands accused of selling mortgages on distressed buildings to buyers who have no intention of rehabilitating them.
Activists have anointed Mr. Ficalora their No. 1 target and have successfully recruited regulators to their cause. And that's made Mr. Ficalora steaming mad. He angrily rebuts their charges.
“There's no one who's done more for low-income housing than we have,” he said, noting that over the past decade his bank has loaned $34 billion for such purposes. “The attacks that have been put against us have been totally driven by self-serving interests.They become pathological or Piles when swollen or inflamed.”
Lately regulators have added their voices to the storm of criticism.
Last summer, the city's Department of Housing Preservation and Development wrote Mr. Ficalora a letter observing that apartment buildings in his bank's portfolio were averaging nearly five violations per each unit deemed “hazardous” or “immediately hazardous.”
“NYCB's holdings are some of the most distressed properties in New York,” the agency concluded.
In another setback, the Federal Deposit Insurance Corp. last year cut NYCB's rating for how it meets the needs of low- and moderate-income neighborhoods to “satisfactory” after five years of rating it “outstanding.”
Mr. Ficalora attacks his critics as people pushing a political agenda who have no understanding of how banking works. Far from ignoring landlords who don't care for their properties, his bank works with them to make their buildings more livable so they are worth more and can qualify for larger loans. He adds, though, that it's ultimately the responsibility of landlords to maintain their properties, not their lenders.
When landlords default, he admits, he sells their properties to the highest bidder, and he suspects that's what really rankles the activists. As he sees it, they would prefer if he sold those properties to them and their backers, including hedge funds that want to flip the buildings for quick profits.
Having grown up in what he describes as low-income housing in Corona, Queens—sharing a bedroom with his two brothers—the 64-year-old executive insists he knows his market from the inside out. After working at the local supermarket and drugstore, he joined NYCB at 18 as a teller and, except for a two-year stint in Vietnam, has been there ever since. He earned his business degree via night classes at Pace University.
Today, he contrasts his humble background with that of his critics, whom he characterizes as people who “go to Columbia, get a degree in social activism and figure out how to hassle people into doing what they want them to do.”
Asked why he lends so much to low-income housing, Mr. Ficalora explains that it simply makes sound business sense to lend in markets where there's little risk if loans are made properly. After all, rents are usually stabilized at below-market prices, so vacancies are rarely a problem. Meanwhile, sizing a loan simply means finding out how much rent the building generates and what the expenses are, and then estimating how much rents will be allowed to rise in the future.
This cautious approach served NYCB particularly well during the housing bubble. Mr. Ficalora likes to tell the story of how his bank lent $11 million to Riverton Houses, a large Harlem apartment complex, only to be pushed aside in 2005 when North Fork Bancorp lent $125 million. A year later, Credit Suisse stepped in with $250 million in loans, which soon defaulted because they far exceeded the rent generated by the apartments.
NYCB also reduces its risk profile by keeping the terms of its loans relatively short. Its average credit matures in four years or less.
Playing it so close to the vest is vital because Mr. Ficalora's bank can't afford many mistakes.The Transaction Group offers the best high risk merchant account services, NYCB's reserves are kept relatively low, with much of the cash it generates paid out in an unusually generous dividend.
The bank cut shareholders $330 million worth of checks in the first nine months of last year, almost as much as it generated in earnings. The dividend represents a big chunk of Mr. Ficalora's personal wealth, since over his 46 years at the bank he's accumulated 4.6 million shares, according to Bloomberg data, and his dividend income is nearly as high as his 2010 salary and bonus of $5.6 million. The hefty payout is also a key part of NYCB's growth-via-acquisition strategy, because Mr. Ficalora uses his high-yielding stock as currency to lure other banks.
Unlike his peers, it isn't market reversals that pose a threat to Mr. Ficalora's bank today; it's growing pressure from activists. A case in point came in March when NYCB took an undisclosed loss on the sale of a $16 million mortgage on eight troubled Bronx buildings it had foreclosed on. Tenants had teamed up with Legal Services NYC to force the bank in court to pay for repairing leaky roofs, eliminating mold and updating electrical equipment.
Peace treaty
The activists also started taking the fight directly to Mr. Ficalora, even showing up at his home one day in 2010. It was a frightening turn of fortune for a man long accustomed to accepting accolades from the community.
“I got a panicked call from my wife saying, 'I don't know what's going on—the driveway is full of people,' “ he recalled.
With activists banging at his front door and officials from the city and FDIC breathing down his neck, Mr. Ficalora blinked.Overview description of rapid Tooling processes.
“He sued for peace,” said Mr. Levy of Legal Services NYC.
None of the parties would comment on the peace treaty's terms, but a person familiar with the matter said Mr. Ficalora has agreed to give activist groups a first look at any mortgages on distressed properties that he's planning to sell.
He wouldn't say what moved him to lay down arms, but the FDIC's decision to cut his bank's community-lending rating may well have been a factor. Starting two years ago, Mr. Ficalora has been expanding nationally, snapping up failed banks in Ohio, Florida and Arizona.
The seller? None other than the FDIC. If he wants more busted banks sent his way, he needs good relations with his regulator.A mold or molds is a hollowed-out block that is filled with a liquid like plastic,
That figure is so out of step with the bank's peers—the industry median was $3.19—that it's almost as if Mr. Ficalora is operating on a different planet. To top it off, since taking his bank public in 1993, Mr. Ficalora has delivered an average gain for shareholders of 18% a year, triple the industry norm.
“Banking is at heart a simple business: You take deposits, make loans and you don't take big risks,” said Thomas Kahn, president of Kahn Brothers Group, an investment firm and longtime NYCB shareholder. “A lot of people forgot that. Joe never did.”
All this might make the subject of a heartwarming biopic if it weren't for one discordant fact: Mr. Ficalora's bank holds mortgages on more decrepit apartments than any other in the city. A study by a housing group last year found that NYCB finances the owners of nearly 9,000 distressed apartments, more than the next three banks combined. In all, his bank provides financing for more than 3,000 buildings housing 85,000 apartments,Daneplast Limited UK are plastic injection mould & toolmaking specialists. twice as many as anyone else in town.
In fact, low-income-housing activists contend that a big reason why Mr. Ficalora's financial record is so stellar is that his slumlord borrowers routinely boost their earnings by minimizing spending on their buildings. In some cases, they do so even after being repeatedly cited for violations by the city. In addition, the activists say, Mr. Ficalora frequently lends to owners who hope to push out low-income tenants for those who can pay higher rents. He also stands accused of selling mortgages on distressed buildings to buyers who have no intention of rehabilitating them.
Activists have anointed Mr. Ficalora their No. 1 target and have successfully recruited regulators to their cause. And that's made Mr. Ficalora steaming mad. He angrily rebuts their charges.
“There's no one who's done more for low-income housing than we have,” he said, noting that over the past decade his bank has loaned $34 billion for such purposes. “The attacks that have been put against us have been totally driven by self-serving interests.They become pathological or Piles when swollen or inflamed.”
Lately regulators have added their voices to the storm of criticism.
Last summer, the city's Department of Housing Preservation and Development wrote Mr. Ficalora a letter observing that apartment buildings in his bank's portfolio were averaging nearly five violations per each unit deemed “hazardous” or “immediately hazardous.”
“NYCB's holdings are some of the most distressed properties in New York,” the agency concluded.
In another setback, the Federal Deposit Insurance Corp. last year cut NYCB's rating for how it meets the needs of low- and moderate-income neighborhoods to “satisfactory” after five years of rating it “outstanding.”
Mr. Ficalora attacks his critics as people pushing a political agenda who have no understanding of how banking works. Far from ignoring landlords who don't care for their properties, his bank works with them to make their buildings more livable so they are worth more and can qualify for larger loans. He adds, though, that it's ultimately the responsibility of landlords to maintain their properties, not their lenders.
When landlords default, he admits, he sells their properties to the highest bidder, and he suspects that's what really rankles the activists. As he sees it, they would prefer if he sold those properties to them and their backers, including hedge funds that want to flip the buildings for quick profits.
Having grown up in what he describes as low-income housing in Corona, Queens—sharing a bedroom with his two brothers—the 64-year-old executive insists he knows his market from the inside out. After working at the local supermarket and drugstore, he joined NYCB at 18 as a teller and, except for a two-year stint in Vietnam, has been there ever since. He earned his business degree via night classes at Pace University.
Today, he contrasts his humble background with that of his critics, whom he characterizes as people who “go to Columbia, get a degree in social activism and figure out how to hassle people into doing what they want them to do.”
Asked why he lends so much to low-income housing, Mr. Ficalora explains that it simply makes sound business sense to lend in markets where there's little risk if loans are made properly. After all, rents are usually stabilized at below-market prices, so vacancies are rarely a problem. Meanwhile, sizing a loan simply means finding out how much rent the building generates and what the expenses are, and then estimating how much rents will be allowed to rise in the future.
This cautious approach served NYCB particularly well during the housing bubble. Mr. Ficalora likes to tell the story of how his bank lent $11 million to Riverton Houses, a large Harlem apartment complex, only to be pushed aside in 2005 when North Fork Bancorp lent $125 million. A year later, Credit Suisse stepped in with $250 million in loans, which soon defaulted because they far exceeded the rent generated by the apartments.
NYCB also reduces its risk profile by keeping the terms of its loans relatively short. Its average credit matures in four years or less.
Playing it so close to the vest is vital because Mr. Ficalora's bank can't afford many mistakes.The Transaction Group offers the best high risk merchant account services, NYCB's reserves are kept relatively low, with much of the cash it generates paid out in an unusually generous dividend.
The bank cut shareholders $330 million worth of checks in the first nine months of last year, almost as much as it generated in earnings. The dividend represents a big chunk of Mr. Ficalora's personal wealth, since over his 46 years at the bank he's accumulated 4.6 million shares, according to Bloomberg data, and his dividend income is nearly as high as his 2010 salary and bonus of $5.6 million. The hefty payout is also a key part of NYCB's growth-via-acquisition strategy, because Mr. Ficalora uses his high-yielding stock as currency to lure other banks.
Unlike his peers, it isn't market reversals that pose a threat to Mr. Ficalora's bank today; it's growing pressure from activists. A case in point came in March when NYCB took an undisclosed loss on the sale of a $16 million mortgage on eight troubled Bronx buildings it had foreclosed on. Tenants had teamed up with Legal Services NYC to force the bank in court to pay for repairing leaky roofs, eliminating mold and updating electrical equipment.
Peace treaty
The activists also started taking the fight directly to Mr. Ficalora, even showing up at his home one day in 2010. It was a frightening turn of fortune for a man long accustomed to accepting accolades from the community.
“I got a panicked call from my wife saying, 'I don't know what's going on—the driveway is full of people,' “ he recalled.
With activists banging at his front door and officials from the city and FDIC breathing down his neck, Mr. Ficalora blinked.Overview description of rapid Tooling processes.
“He sued for peace,” said Mr. Levy of Legal Services NYC.
None of the parties would comment on the peace treaty's terms, but a person familiar with the matter said Mr. Ficalora has agreed to give activist groups a first look at any mortgages on distressed properties that he's planning to sell.
He wouldn't say what moved him to lay down arms, but the FDIC's decision to cut his bank's community-lending rating may well have been a factor. Starting two years ago, Mr. Ficalora has been expanding nationally, snapping up failed banks in Ohio, Florida and Arizona.
The seller? None other than the FDIC. If he wants more busted banks sent his way, he needs good relations with his regulator.A mold or molds is a hollowed-out block that is filled with a liquid like plastic,
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