Chapter 25: Do-Good

The problem with the tenants’ union didn’t go away overnight. Just as I suspected, I discovered that Briggs had incorporated a non-profit and was still trying to recruit local residents to join his ‘class action’ lawsuit. The actual substance of the suit was still vague. Jim was fuming, but there was nothing he could do until someone actually lodged a formal action. I’d spiked any major motivation for the neighborhood to actually pursue a lawsuit. We continued with the renovation of the units that were permitted, some of which were conversions and one of which was intended to stay rental apartments.

Jim, Gordon, and I met to go over our long term and short term plans and to look at how things were shaping up.

“Technically, you’ve succeeded in converting more than the number of units you originally projected,” Gordon said. “We originally proposed the conversion of 500 units over five years. Well, it’s been five years and two months. You’ve converted 620 units. In addition to that, you’ve opened a completely new 180-unit building on the north side of the river and are over sixty percent sold. What else do you want?”

“I thought this was only going to be phase one and we’d determine the plan for the next five years.”

“It’s phase one and two,” I said. “You have almost double the original projections.”

“Okay, then what is phase three? When you speak ex cathedra like you did at the tenants’ union, you leave me no choice but to follow what you’ve said or fire you. You’re so smart about this, what’s next?” Jim demanded. I sighed.

“Cut the condos loose,” I said. “Sell your interest in the land and the management company to an independent investor and get the hell out. We’ve got time right now to liquidate. When the market goes to hell, we won’t have time any longer.” It was Gordon’s and Jim’s turn to sigh.

“Why is it that every time you make predictions about the future, I believe you?” Gordon asked. I laughed.

“You don’t. Your pocketbook does.”

“That’s an unarguable position to take,” Jim said. “I’ve been thinking about making an investment in an Internet company I heard about.”

“What company?” I asked.

“Two guys out in California are looking for capital for what they call an Internet indexing application that lets you look stuff up on the World Wide Web. They haven’t got a name yet.”

“Hmm. That sounds good. Just make sure they are really doing what they say they are.”

“Okay. No more condo conversions in Loring Neighborhood. What about renovations and new property acquisitions?”

“How do the property values compare to what they were when you started twenty years ago?” I asked.

“Those were the days. I could pick up a derelict and get a bunch of college kids to do all the work. When it was renovated I could quadruple the rent and fill it as fast as the units were finished. Problem now is everyone thinks he’s sitting on a gold mine and wants a premium for the units.” I looked at him. “Yes. I see what you are asking. Apartment renovation isn’t profitable any longer. Fuck.”

“HUD,” I said.

“What a rip-off. Once you let your property go into Section 8 housing, you are stuck. People just tear them up and you can’t even evict them,” Jim said.

“So don’t own or manage the buildings. Just renovate them. Get a government grant to improve the housing that is already on the market. Let current owners compete for the privilege of upgrading their properties. Regain your white knight image by giving back to the community. I’ll bet you can even get it written into the grant that all work will be done by minority and women-owned businesses with right-to-work labor. You’ll be a hero again.”

“She’s got something there, Jim,” Gordon said. “I might even be willing to join up with you on that.”

“So what are you going to do, little lady?”

“I’m thinking I might retire and move to the country,” I said. “Maybe I’ll become a gentleman farmer.”

“Gentlewoman?”

“Oh, there’s nothing gentle about the woman,” I quipped.

A fairly sedate and timid committee from ‘The Real Loring Neighborhood Alliance’ came to their appointment with me. I loved it. They had the signatures of over two hundred tenants on their membership roster. Of course, that accounted for only about 120 out of close to 3,000 household units, but it was more than Briggs had been able to attract and it made them interesting enough to spend time with them. If they had two hundred, they could get a thousand and that investment was worth our effort to support.

“We really don’t want to be in an adversarial role with our landlord,” Tim Emerson said. “That was never the intent of our meeting. We were really concerned about the lighting in the park. None of us want our neighborhood overrun by druggies and homeless again, but we didn’t want to be lit up like a shopping mall, either.”

“Well, what do you think of it?” I asked.

“It’s beautiful,” Tina Williams said. “And it’s so nice to have the music piped in at dusk. It’s soft enough that no one notices until they are actually in the park.”

“I’d like to take credit for that, but the idea actually came from the bus stops on Nicolette Mall,” I laughed.

“I’ve personally taken my wife dancing in the park,” Les Bryant said. “One of the best nights of our marriage.”

“Too much information, Les,” Tim said. “But it’s true that the park has become a real center of our community in the evenings. We’re actually recognizing people and talking instead of just using it as a shortcut from one block to the other. We do have some other concerns, though.” I didn’t think this was just an apology meeting.

“Tell me about it.”

“They fall into two categories,” Tim continued. He was apparently the designated spokesperson. “The first is what inflation is doing to our rent. When I moved into the neighborhood five years ago, my rent was thirty percent lower than it is now. It seems like everything has been targeted toward making rent too expensive to live there so we’d move out and the building could be converted.”

“You don’t have to worry about that any longer. We’re not doing any more conversions.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Tim said, “but our rent increases are still outstripping inflation. We’d like some kind of control put on it to protect current residents.”

“We’ll have to give that some careful consideration,” I said. “We’ve seen what rent control has done to property in both California and New York. I understand the concern and would like to work toward a mutually agreeable solution, but I’m not the person to commit to any kind of controls at the moment. My role in the company is strictly limited to condo conversion and sales.”

“Does that mean you are out of a job when these last units are converted and sold?” Tina asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I still have a year or more to finish the sales of our reconstruction on Main Street. But I’ve not committed to Loring on any other projects. Doesn’t mean there won’t be any, just that I haven’t committed to being involved.”

“I wish you luck on that,” Tim said. He nodded to Les.

“Our other concern is of a social nature,” Les said. “There are a number of us who have a conscience, believe it or not. What was done in the Loring Neighborhood over the past twenty years was amazing. A new urban revival. A neighborhood rescued. We’re proud of our neighborhood. But walk three blocks south of us and you immediately see the downside. Property is being run down. Pimps and addicts frequent that park. A friend who runs each morning picked up a needle in his shoe a few days ago. Fortunately, it didn’t puncture all the way through. All the problems that were in the Loring Neighborhood twenty years ago have simply moved south to the next neighborhood in line. The pressure of increasing numbers there is going to start pushing back into the edges of Loring within the next five years. We need to do something to solve the problem that doesn’t simply move it farther south or closer to the U District or Uptown.”