Another Trailer Park Faces the Potential Bulldozer

By Catherine J. Rourke

When the economics of real estate greed and the opposition of a favored few drive out the dwellings of the working stiffs, we've crossed a line in the idea of community.

                                                              – Alphonso Jackson, U.S. Secretary of Housing and Urban Development

Part One - Voices of Exasperation

Do you currently live in one of Sedona’s few remaining trailer parks? If so, local development trends indicate that you’d better start packing your bags. The condos are coming.

Oak Creek Mobilodge, situated off Highway 179 near Copper Cliffs, is the next one slated for extinction. Proposed for redevelopment as The Falls at Oak Creek, the project would displace 59 families currently living in trailers on the site grandfathered into the city code as “single family residential” zoning.

Mobilodge landlords Don and Cathy Campbell and their project designer – Santa Barbara-based Hochhauser Blatter Architecture and Planning – filed a request with the city’s Planning & Zoning Commission in March for a “planned residential development” zoning change that would allow them to turn the trailer park into 50 condominiums, with another eight units designated as “affordable.”

If the city approves the developer’s rezoning proposal later this summer,  the Mobilodge’s low-income residents face eviction in a housing market that offers them few, if any, affordable alternatives. In Part 1 of this series, The Red Rock Review interviews current residents about the prospect of losing their homes.

Home sweet home

Making the steep descent into the Mobilodge is like entering Sedona’s underworld. Rows of shabby trailers line the bottom of a deep gulch that sits on nearly 4 acres along Morgan’s Wash on Oak Creek.

No sweeping red rock vistas or creek side patios here; no Feng Shui or Santa Fe design either. Forget about wraparound decks, palatial square footage and infinity pools with rock waterfalls. What you see are nondescript, colorless dwellings, dirt driveways, older-model vehicles and overworked hands.

Weary faces in hotel uniforms emerge from this underbelly of the city, making their way to Job No. 2. Their sweat spins the economic wheels of profit for timeshares, tour operators, multinational resort chains and restaurateurs who thrive on their cheap labor.  Home to many of the city’s service workers and Mexican immigrant families, Oak Creek Mobilodge is where they find rest in between multiple jobs juggled to pay the rent.

Nameless, faceless and potentially homeless

Sentiment among those residents can be described as exasperated and “fed up,” noting that they feel like “strangers” in a city that “has turned its back” on them.  Affordable housing topped a list of gripes including low wages, high gas prices, stagnant jobs, inadequate health care and the “overwhelming cost of living.”

Though living in the shadow of seven-figure homes on the Palisades above them, residents said they feel “light years apart” from their affluent neighbors. “It’s like we’re a leper colony down here that no one wants to acknowledge,” said one man who lives in a tiny trailer. “Even though we do their dirty work, I’m sure the rich would like to push us out because we‘re an eyesore.”

Another resident who, like her neighbors, refused to identify herself for fear of eviction, asked: “Where are our housing officials, community groups and church leaders? All they talk about is immigration because it’s cheap labor for them. They ignore the rest of us who are losing our jobs and housing because of it. None of ‘em ever come down here to talk with us, but I‘d be happy to give the grand tour and a reality check.”

Uncertain futures

Dave R. represents the epitome of Sedona’s housing crisis. His wages at a local restaurant pay just enough to make the rent. Educated and articulate, he came to Sedona to escape the smokestacks and blizzards of Pittsburgh but couldn’t find a decent job in his field. Shortly after renting a space at Hawkeye Trailer Park, he was forced out to make way for The Preserve.

“The developers have yet to turn a single shovel of dirt because they can’t find anywhere to stick their token affordable housing units,” he noted. “They just pulled the rug out from under us.” Dave now faces a similar situation at the Mobilodge.

“The city says it wants affordable housing but caves in to the greedy developers who are destroying this town,” he said. “People look down on us because we live in trailers, but where else can we go?”

Another resident added: “This is our home, even it’s a trailer park. I won’t live in Cottonwood and let the gas prices eat up my hard-earned money. There‘s a lot of hard-working families here who deserve better.”

“Uprooting working people to build expensive condos for those who neither work nor live here is crazy,” said one young woman. “We will go where we can afford to live and work and be treated with respect. You will wake up one morning and there will be no one to serve your latte. And I wonder if anyone will even care.”

A moral obligation

Communities flourish when they're economically integrated, when housing is available for all pocketbooks. How we house the least of our people who toil for such small sums on our behalf is a moral obligation. As such, we cannot leave the issue solely up to the city or developers, nor lose our sense of community.

The Housing Vision component of the Sedona Community Plan states:

Since existing mobile home parks provide some of the most affordable housing options to low and moderate income households, retention of this housing is very important. If these areas are re-developed, the existing housing densities should be retained regardless of housing type if upgrades to current housing and/or site conditions are provided and the housing units are and remain affordable to low and moderate income households.

A collective approach that is anchored as a community-wide  moral responsibility -  instead of leaving matters in the hands of a few power brokers who have little idea what it‘s like to roll coins for food and gas - would strengthen that vision and the chances for affordable housing solutions.

The workers and families who live at Oak Creek Mobilodge are a gift to us. We must stand by them instead of banishing them. At the very least, we don't need to give any more developers another reason to go zoning shopping in the future.

Part 2 - Can You Afford to Live Here?

The search continues for local housing solutions

by Catherine J. Rourke 

We must not build houses; we must build communities. - Mike Burton, architect

It’s a local and national epidemic for which there seems to be no cure.

The lack of affordable housing – much like the lack of affordable health care – often pushes hardworking families into the street. And, as landowners across Sedona feverishly redevelop the area’s few remaining barrios into luxury condos, the question remains: How will Sedona attract and house its workforce without relying solely on immigrant labor?

Complicating local matters is HB2779, a state bill that mandates the toughest employer sanctions in the nation by punishing those who knowingly hire undocumented immigrants. Signed into law earlier this month, it spells trouble for local businesses that rely on their cheap labor as many workers abandon Sedona due to the lack of decent wages and affordable housing.

What happens when workers start leaving? The answer to that disturbing question was recently posted on the door of one local retailer: We are currently closed due to the short staff we are experiencing and will not re-open until tomorrow.

Part 1 of the series highlighted the exasperated voices of 59 low-income families at Oak Creek Mobilodge who face possible eviction if the city approves their landlord’s zoning change request to redevelop the trailer park into condominiums. The story now turns to the definition of “affordable” and efforts to turn that principle into mortar and bricks. 

Affordable for whom?

Don Campbell, who purchased Oak Creek Mobilodge in 1979, notes that the city’s housing policy mandates that 12 percent of his redevelopment consist of affordable units. He emphasizes that 16 percent of them will remain affordable, exceeding the city’s standard by 33 percent.

Campbell notes that the existing 59 tenants will also be given priority in purchasing the eight affordable condos.

“In addition, covenants attached to these units will ensure they remain affordable in the future,” he said.

According to the project architects, “sales prices would follow city of Sedona standards, with 75 percent priced for moderate-income earners, from $151,400 to $189,800 (based on 115 percent of area median income), and 25 percent would be priced for low-income earners and priced from $84,800 - $109,800 (based on 75 percent of area median income).”

While these prices can be defined as reasonable by comparison, is it realistic to label them affordable for low-income workers? What classifies low income here - $12 an hour? Minimum wage? Would a bank finance Rosie, a hotel maid earning $8/hour, or Julio the dishwasher at $6.75/hour, or Ted the reporter at $11 an hour? What about taxes, closing costs and other fees?

Mobilodge residents report that they simply cannot afford even the lowest-priced units, along with many of the city’s presumed “middle-income,” white-collar workers – such as teachers, journalists and office administrators – who report earnings of $10-$13 per hour. When asked, many of these “professionals” admitted that they struggle to make ends meet on their substandard paychecks.

High prices or low wages?

According to the city, the median annual household income in 2006 was $49,000. Does this figure strictly represent local workforce wages or does it also include the Social Security and stock income of affluent retirees? And, can we accurately base affordable housing prices on it?

Sedona economic analyst Bob Eggert reports that 65 percent of local workers are employed in low-end retail, tourism, foodservice and hospitality jobs where wages average from $3.75 to $9 per hour. Do the remaining 35 percent sell timeshares and real estate? If so, then the median income paints a distorted picture.

The Sedona Housing Affordability Gap chart indicates that workers need to earn $64/hour to afford a $500,000 median-priced home. The average $1,200/month local rent – low by today’s economic standards – requires an income of $23/hour, or $47,840 annually – rare for the majority of local workers. It also reports that average wages in the retail sector are 65percent of the median income, and those workers can only afford a rent of $560 or a house price of $67,000.

The national measure of affordability is whether a household can spend 30% or less of its annual gross income for housing and utilities. Is this an archaic formula that ignores enormous living costs and stagnant incomes? Or is it merely an unrealistic standard set by well-heeled officials for whom such prices represent pocket change in comparison to their multimillion-dollar homes – or what they could be charging for those condos? Perhaps these numbers are in serious need of re-analysis before the city can begin solving its housing crisis.

Condominium conundrum

Sedona isn’t just red rocks, shops and galleries. Sedona is its people – all of us – who deserve the basic human right of a decent place to live.

Are we creating a city where economic inequality has escalated to rampant extremes, where a growing sector of the splendidly wealthy use the city as a zoning vending machine? Are we supporting a new caste system where the gentry reigns over low-wage immigrant coolies who have become the servant class – “alien” untouchables – in a culture of have-mores and have-nots?

There's something amiss when affordable housing takes on the cast of a necessary evil, rather than a desirable element to attract a middle-class workforce. And there’s something perversely wrong when $700/month shoeboxes become $500,000 condos that sit not in majestic red rock aeries but right on the main drag within earshot of traffic.

As a community issue, housing must involve every local economic faction  - trailer park residents, wealthy retirees, local businesses, middle-class professionals, immigrants, the working poor, interfaith leaders and sustainability groups - working together to break new ground.

For some, Sedona’s land is nothing more than a gold mine to be dug out. This heinous blend of economic oppression and environmental ravage distilled by a group of power brokers hoarding the lion’s share of Sedona’s pie will never result in a balanced, flourishing community. The camel’s back has got to break somewhere and housing, along with HB2779, may very well be the straw that snaps it.

Catherine Rourke is a public service journalist who writes investigative reports about socioeconomic and work-life balance issues and who volunteered on Sedona‘s first Affordable Housing Committee in 2001. In 2006 her columns won the state’s most distinguished press recognition - a “Community Journalist of the Year Award” – from the Arizona Press Club. Read her full bio on the WHO page and e-mail her at editor@SedonaObserver.com.

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