Friday, November 16, 2007

Real Estate Physiology

The issue of vacant and abandoned houses dominated South Bend’s recent mayoral race … 2183 empty homes, to be specific.  People not used to empty houses on their street, not to mention a boarded up window or an overgrown yard, are outraged. 

But here in the inner city, we kind of like it.  For the first time in ten years on Cottage Grove Avenue, it’s quiet.  Eerie quiet, like a suburban cul-de-sac.  On my two blocks alone, 19 houses are now vacant.  It was 20, but one was just demolished.  Green space. 

Take my neighbor’s house, empty since the landlord abandoned it last May.  No property manager drives up shouting on his cell phone to pound a For Rent sign back into the dirt.  No cleaning crew shows up to curse and flick cigarette butts onto the porch.  No stained sofas, plastic high chairs, broken TV stands and moldy clothing gets coughed up onto the curb like a gigantic residential hairball.  No new tenants unload mattresses and wide screen TVs with no intent to pay a single month’s rent thereafter. 

I think about the gypsy children that have run up the steps to these houses.  How they’d never say which house they’re living in.  Instead, they’d say, “I’m staying in the brown house, with my auntie.” Or, “I’m staying in the green house, with my cousins.”

A few months ago, a For Sale sign from a local realty office appeared in my neighbor’s yard.  Oh my gosh.  Someone could buy that place for the price of a garage in Seattle.  Fix it up for a family to buy.  I called the realtor’s number and left a message of eager interest.  One day passed.  Two days.  No call back.  That’s odd.  I called again: left messages at both numbers on the sign.  More days passed, no call back.  The office finally hunted down the realtor.  “Can you tell me about this place?” I said.  “Well,” she said, “I haven’t seen the property yet.” Now there’s a novel way to sell a house.

I called on a different property, the vacant duplex across the street. Days passed.  Then, a message left by a white-voiced female, the property manager.  “Wondering if you’ve driven by that property yet … if you know that area?” she said.  “If you have driven by, on that street, and you still want to see it, let us know.” Wow. This was getting personal. 

The human body will isolate and starve any organism that it considers a threat, like a bacteria or abnormal cell growth.  This immune response is essential to survival.  But sometimes the human body makes a mistake.  Isolating and starving harmless organisms that are, in fact, part of itself.  This is called an autoimmune disorder:  Like rheumatoid arthritis or multiple sclerosis—causing great pain, weakness, numbness in the whole body. 

Our community has an autoimmune disorder, walling off entire neighborhoods from social support, economic nutrition and realtors’ advocacy.  Not as public policy.  But as real private practice. 

Nineteen houses vacant on Cottage Grove Ave.  In need of love, and understanding.  Understanding the law of economic real estate physiology.  That an abandoned house anywhere … is a threat to well-manicured homes and resale values everywhere.

Broadcast by Jeff Nixa on November 16, 2007
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