The latest to leave  Ms. Burgueno and her husband, Mr. Ramirez, who fixed cars for sale in Mexico  packed up in July after the bank gave them $1,500 to leave by the end of the month. As she gathered the last of her belongings, Ms. Burgueno asked the oldest Winkler daughter to sit with her in the repossessed home because its near emptiness gave her the heebie-jeebies.

“I have learned that you can’t trust anyone but God,” Ms. Burgueno said. “Nothing falls from the sky.”

Her eyes hardened with hurt when she talked about her home while standing on the steps of the courthouse in nearby Corona, where the house was to be auctioned by the bank.

“I think a lot of these investors are taking advantage of people’s problems out here,” Ms. Burgueno said. “I heard about a guy who bought like eight houses out here for $80,000. To me, it isn’t right.”

Ms. Sanchez and Mr. Winkler, the couple with two daughters, dream of moving on someday, but know there is no chance for that now. It has been a humbling time, an object lesson with a high cost. “In the long run, I think the people might have actually learned something,” Mr. Winkler said on Memorial Day over a hamburger cooked on the grill. “This might be a good thing.”

Mr. Blanco, the unemployed electrician, remains a picture of nervous cheer. He has had time to learn English, to think about a new career. He is studying cooking, and all the physical therapy for his injured back has made him extremely fit. He spends his free time studying, or blasting Michael McDonald on the stereo while frenetically cleaning the house he is not sure will remain his.

When he begged the bank for a loan modification that he appeared to qualify for under the latest plan passed by Congress, he was rebuffed. Now that he has stopped making mortgage payments, he said, the bank is calling him back, looking to do business again.