Steven A. Bigelow, of Rumford, a home remodeler, lost his house to foreclosure last year after his business slumped. He now lives with his wife and two children in a rental house. The Providence Journal / Bob Thayer

The Federal Reserve’s surprise rate cut yesterday came too late for Steven A. Bigelow.

His home remodeling and carpentry business, which once grossed six figures, is now off by at least 40 percent, he says. The bank last year foreclosed on his house. And his wife took a job as a school bus monitor so they could get health insurance for their family.

“What used to really keep me going for years was [mortgage] refinancing,” says Bigelow, who is 52. “Of course, that came to a screeching halt.”

He and his wife, Maria, and their two children now share a three-bedroom rental in East Providence for $1,750 a month. They have cut out summer vacations, dining out, and piano and swimming lessons.

Now, the question on Wall Street is whether the Fed’s three-quarter point cut in short-term lending rates will jump-start Americans’ borrowing — and spending — and prevent others from meeting Bigelow’s fate.

Consumer spending accounts for two-thirds of all U.S. economic activity. By lowering the short-term lending rates, the Fed hopes to encourage lenders to make it cheaper for consumers to borrow — to fix up their homes, buy cars and, more generally, to spend.

“The purpose of the Fed move is to shore up confidence, that judging by global stock markets is on the edge of evaporating,” said Mark Zandi, chief economist for Economy.com. “The lower rates will help borrowers, particularly if they are prime borrowers, but these benefits will take weeks and months to become evident.”

Some cannot afford to wait.

Just a few miles from Providence’s shiny hotels and Starbucks coffee shops, in the land of variety stores, boarded-up houses and ruined credit, the hope offered by a rate cut seems at best an abstraction.

On Cranston Street, small shop owners are the neighborhood economy’s lifeblood. And their condition is critical.

Santos Areas, owner of Appliance Service Sales & Repair, says sales are so slow that he now trades stoves and refrigerators to his landlord to cover his $1,800-a-month rent.

“Right now, I’m a month-and-a-half behind,” says Areas, who is 38 and married with a baby daughter. “I’m not even covering my bills and I’m working for free.”

He no longer hires anyone to clean the used stoves and refrigerators; he and his wife do it themselves.

“If things keep up like this for five more months,” he said, “I’m going to have to shut down.”

Back when business was good, Areas used to sell a lot of appliances to people who were buying houses for investments. He bought some properties of his own to rent, too.

Then, the market turned. Tenants couldn’t pay the rent. He couldn’t pay his mortgage and his houses fell into foreclosure.

The Fed rate cut would have helped last year, when he was trying to refinance. Now, he says, it is probably too late for him, too.

“If I could get a loan it would be great,” he says, “but my credit got screwed up… . We’re trying to build up my wife’s credit now, but she hasn’t been able to get a job.”

His customers, he says, are having the same problem. “I know a friend … who lost six houses,” he says. “Another friend of mine lost four. They were my customers.”

Across the street, at Rudy’s Auto Sales, the customers are nowhere to be found.

“You can’t get financing,” says owner Rudy A. Del Santo. “They won’t take ’em, even with co-signers.”

He is 61 and wears work boots and a hunting cap. He has been in business for 30 years. His customers are working-class immigrants. Never, he says, has he seen business this bad.

“It’s dead, dead, dead,” he says. “I got a lot full of cars and nothing’s selling.”

He used to pay attention to the politicians in Washington. A framed letter addressed to him signed by President Bush and with the president’s photograph hangs on the wall behind his desk. It reads, in part: “Working together, we will build a better future for every American.”

Now, he just shakes his head. What would he tell the president? “Can’t tell ’em nothing,” he says. “The damage is done.”

larditi@projo.com