MattKennard.com

According to the press releases everything is going to plan. After decades at the mercy of unscrupulous slum lords, the residents of Noble Drew Ali Plaza Housing Project in Brownsville, Brooklyn, found themselves a saviour in ex-Mets slugger Mo Vaugn and his Omni New York, LCC Company. This was the man to transform the decaying 5 building project from what narcotics officers refer to as “New Jack City,” (after the 1991 Wesley Snipes film in which a drug lord turns a whole building into a crack cartel) into a clean and functioning complex.

Omni New York, LCC bought the 365-unit property for $20 million in June 2007 and on the back of the purchase the police arrested 35 residents in an early morning drugs bust. It was a statement of intent. Over the next months dozens of security cameras started to appear all over the building, peering down at the residents in the plaza, the social centre of the project – the target is 400 fully operating cameras.

In came the security firm Secure Watch 24 and instead of an 8a.m. to 4p.m. shift, Secure Watch went 24 hours a day running shifts from 6a.m.-2p.m., 2p.m. to 10p.m., and 10p.m. to 6a.m.

Mo Vaughn invited the media to the dilapidated Brownsville project and toured them around the crumbling interiors in a pin-stripe suit, signing memorabilia and accepting the adoring affection of his clamoring fans.

But this was where the fairytale narrative stopped and the reality of Omni’s take-over began. For the residents who are allowed to stay in the complex it has good omens. There are promises of new stoves, kitchens, windows for everyone. The two most run-down buildings – 230 and 240 – are being completely rebuilt with new everything: floors, windows, bathrooms, kitchens, doors. You name it.

But there exists another set of residents for whom Vaughn’s arrival has been less portentous. Countless residents are now being dealt eviction orders and face the street as their next habitation. Still more are living in buildings 230 and 240 as the whole place is ripped down around them, dust and debris often seeping into their apartment. This group includes two wheel-chair bound men.

Noble Drew project was built in 1972 in a poor part of the Brownsville surrounded by tenements and empty lots. “It was a wonderful place to be then,” said Paullette Jackson-Forbes, 45, the president of the Tenants Association and a resident since its inception. “We even had intercom on the TV so we could see who was downstairs. People were embarrassed if their floors weren’t clean!”

The first developer was Joe Jeffries-El, a University of Pennsylvania-trained manager. “There were twenty families of police officers, nurses, bus drivers, teachers - you name it,” said Forbes. “It was a utopian place to be.”

In the early 1980s the buildings were wrenched from Jeffries-El and the complex started its precipitous decline. In that decade the ownership and management changed hands 4 times. “We became atrocious then,” said Forbes. “People hanging out, crack epidemic, no security, drugs getting a free run – at that time we were really the victims.”

Eventually the tenants association took action. A lawsuit was followed by a new owner, Lyndon Reallty. “They did some decent renovation,” said Forbes. “They bought in a team of security – the owners were Jewish but they hired Muslim security – all the drugs went away. You could sleep with the windows up, the doors open, that type of thing.”

Eventually it was revealed that Lyndon Reallty were stealing and misusing funds. They were using one of the buildings as a scapegoat for their claimed renovation and actually funneling money back out of the complex. They were arrested in 1992 and the building went back to a receiver.

It was then that Adur Rakhman Farrakhan, voted one of the 10 worst landlords in New York City by the Village Voice, bought the property for $10. His tenure ran all the way up until 2006 when management was passed by the court to West Center Management who still run the day-day operations of the complex.

“Under Farrakhan the place just disintegrated,” said Forbes. “No elevators, no hot water, no rebuilding, no security.” It eventually transpired that Farrakhan and a partner had been swindling money out of the complex by receiving government funds for hostel services. They had emptied two buildings and made an agreement with Department of Homeless to run those buildings as a shelter. The rent they accrued was nearly $3000 per unit from federal subsidies, far higher than the rent from individual tenants which sometimes reached as low as $68. Eventually Farrakhan was caught embezzling money and legal proceeding bought by the Tenants Assocation, represented by Attorney Mimi Rosenberg, began in February 2002 in what would eventually become a five year battle.

In 2007 they won the case – the defendant was declared bankrupt and the property was put up to be sold. The tenants demanded a strict criteria: $28 million rehabilitation, restoration, and the help to secure Section A which would guarantee that residents could start afresh in their rent payments and no arrears from the Farrakhan tenure would demanded. Omni Company was the only one to meet the criteria.

Except when you walk into Noble Drew housing project today you are surrounded by residents grousing about the new administration. A project of cleansing the complex has been underway from the police in combination with West Centre Management. Certain residents, according to West Center, have not paid rent for the whole West Center administration – some 14 months. They have been dealt with eviction notices.

Dorothy Fields is one such person. A victim of Hurricana Katrina in 2005 she fled with her bed-ridden husband and was living out of a van next to Noble Drew, before Alicia Allen, assistant manager for West Center took pity and called her bosses. They agreed to put her up in a room in one of the buildings. At this point their narrative takes divergent trajectories.

Allen’s apartment is in building 240 which has been under construction since Mo Vaughn initiated his regeneration program in July. As you step in past the piles of bin bags, there is scattered debris and dust all over the lobby area. Workmen mill around with large sheets of glass, bits of piping and other construction tidbits. The floor is covered with concrete, collections of brick, shattered glass, plastic bottles – a construction site. Allen is one of 16 families living in this block as builders are ripping down the building around them.

The Allen’s apartment inside is in bad shape. Michael Fields, who was shot and cannot walk, lies in bed building a toy car. There is no natural light as the curtains are drawn and a weak yellow light illuminates the room. There’s a TV that crackles in the background. “When they gave us this place they said we don’t have to pay rent,” Ms. Fields said. “Now they are trying to make us pay $5000, how the hell am I going to do that?”

“I can’t hardly breathe at times,” says Mr. Fields from his bed. “I’m also vomiting now which is horrible.”

“There’s dust coming through the window, even I have been breathing up flem,” Ms. Fields chimes in. “And because of all that trash there’s worms and dead cats all around here.”

Ms. Fields presents a note from her doctor cataloguing her respiratory problems and their links to her surroundings.

On the front of building 240 is a sign which catalogues the Asbestos work apparently taking place in the basement as they remove the piping. It is being carried out by New York Insulation Inc. who have no website and don’t return calls when I inquire about their work. When the West Center team come around later they try to take the Asbestos sign down before realizing the work is due to finish in December.

Forbes tells me later that under Farrakhan the pipes were going to be changed but he dropped the operation after asbestos was found. She is also convening a Tenants Association meeting to discuss the dangers of asbestos.

In building 230 which is across the plaza, there is a sign on the outside which reads: “No tenants allowed in this building. Hard hats only.” On a public holiday with no construction I found over 10 people living in there, squatting, with the full knowledge of West Center it transpires, although DV construction project manager later claims no knowledge. The hard hat regulation was apparently put up after a worker for DV construction had been hit on the head by a falling brick, and now all workers walk around with their heads covered, not the squatters though.

One of the residents Ernest Bethel, 54, who I find descending a flight of stairs on his bottom and pulling his wheelchair behind him. He has one leg, and obvious mental problems. He tells me that he has to pull himself down and up the stairs every time he wants to go out as the elevators are used only by the construction workers. It takes him about an hour, he said. Bethel has lived in the complex for over a year, according to West Center Management

Another resident of building 230 is Rosemary Joiner, 69, who claims she was thrown out of her apartment in another building and put in a single-bedroom in building 230. West Center agree this was the scenario, but they claim she has not paid rent. She now lives in 230 and is distressed and unkempt. When I am in the West Center office she is complaining that she has been kicked out of the room she is squatting in by her roommate. The West Center management won’t give her the key to her hold apartment to return her clothes there.

Building 230 is like a bombsite with detritus of every kind - clothes, bottles, garbage, electronics, concrete, brick, wood, metal – strewn over the floors. Every occupied apartment is knowable by the colour of the door. Apartments that are being renovated have a new gray door, the doors in which the squatters are living are red because they cannot knock them down yet. There are all sorts of people – mostly old, and, according to West Center staff, drug users.

West Center say these people are under eviction proceedings. Jaswinder Singh, project manager for DV Group, the construction subcontractors, was incredulous. “Nobody lives there,” he said. Is it safe for habitation? “No, it’s not safe,” he replied. He says that there is asbestos in the basement like building 240, but there is no sign on the outside detailing any work.

Ravi Gukral, the project manager of the whole operation, said: “We follow orders, they have dates to get evicted.”

Inside building 240 across the plaza which is in slightly better shape, Mike Gorney, 28, foreman for DV Group, said: “There’s like 6 squatters in here, they can’t kick them out yet.”

But yet West Centre say that only half the 16 people living in building 240 are actually squatters. The other eight are just residents, there by right, with West Center’s blessing.

A mother and her 4-year-old son living in building 240 report that there was no attempt to rehouse them, in fact they are now being evicted. “They didn’t rehouse us and now we apparently owe $4000.” Her welfare claim has removed her son so she can’t pay the rent. “My little son has asthma, how do you think all this dust is effecting him? I don’t even want him in here. I was living in complex 37 but they moved me here.”

On both buildings, Keish Frith, 29, administrative assistant in the West Center office on location, said: “They should have got the residents out before they started. When you are working with different people they work by their own rules. It may not be illegal, but it’s not fair.”

“It’s all for show,” said a man wanting to be identified as Slasher. “They want it to look good on the outside, but really nothing is happening in here.” He was waiting outside the management office to report a suspicious occurance on the weekend. “They told me that they can’t access the camera records until 3 days later,” he said. “It’s now 3 days later and now they say that the cameras inside the buildings aren’t working.”

Slasher had spotted a man who he didn’t recognise on the fire escape at 4a.m. looking through his window. “I told security that morning, and they said they didn’t have the ability to rewind!” He added, “I mean someone died here 2 months ago, you would hope they had set the cameras up properly. I don’t even think they are turned on.”

West Center claims that many of the residents who are going to be evicted have failed to do the paper work that would have allowed them to stay. Most of the denizens they mention have mental difficulties and seem incapable of doing administrative tasks. According to Allen, anyone who did the paperwork would have been moved from building 230 before construction started. Those who didn’t, or didn’t know how to, were left there, squatting. Many residents complain that Mimi Rosenberg, the attorney for the Tenants association vs. Farrakhan, had only helped a select few people with their cases against eviction.

Behind the shiny regeneration veneer there is a world of deprivation and despair. Noble Drew has been cleansed of residents by a pincer movement of police and West Center Management. Anyone who has remained has been built around, in conditions that you wouldn’t expect to see in Bronx Zoo. As the asbestos work continues and the new apartments are put together, the remaining ex-residents, now-squatters, might not be so sanguine about the advent of the ex-Mets slugger saviour.

This post is tagged poverty, u.s. housing