"This change is exciting," said John, long time resident of the Ford Hotel. "Everybody is ending the year on a strong note."
Those words expressed a different attitude from that which filled the air when this story started.
Shortly after SRO Housing Corporation purchased the Ford Hotel in March, 2008, I began working there. The non-profit housing and social service provider planned to relocate the tenants and renovate the structure. The process will take several years, and the relocation has only hit full stride this month, amid the year-end holidays.
Resistance to moving was high despite the Ford's longtime reputation as a rough place to live even by Skid Row standards. Locals called the six -story structure the "Wild, Wild West.
At first glance it would seem that relocating tenants from the place wouldn't be all that difficult. Anything went at the Ford. It was considered the bottom of the bottom. The tenants — a mix of senior citizens on razor-thin budgets, down-and-out families, substance abusers, and mentally ill individuals — fought with life and each other. Police and paramedics were constant visitors. Everybody complained about building management and each other.
But the Ford was their home. Most did not want to move — or they were afraid to do so.
They struggled as the inevitable approach, anxiously awaiting word on a deadline to vacate the place. Nobody knew where they would go. Tenants did not trust the new owner to fulfill the financial obligations to relocate them. Haunted eyes could not mask the anxiety and fear of making changes in their lives. Many had given up on life — they viewed this move as the next leg on a journey to nowhere.
Residents began to find some resolve. They began taking a proactive attitude about their future, looking for answers instead of waiting for the relocation specialists to provide them. Putting their fears aside, and utilizing their vast network of relationships in the Downtown area, they banded together to inform themselves about the relocation process and begin a preliminary search for available, affordable housing.
Not all of them made it, though. Many of their former Ford tenants buckled under the stress of uncertain futures and sought comfort in drugs and alcohol. They stopped paying rent before a moving date was even set. Some were evicted before the moving date, which means they became ineligible for relocation funds. Some of them are currently homeless in Skid Row.
Most hung in there, and by the time the relocation specialists came to the Ford to interview with remaining residents, they found a bunch that was ready, willing and determined to go the distance. The fact-finding process to determine a fair compensation for relocation got testy, even downright contentious, at time. The Ford tenants hung in there, and so did representatives of SRO Housing Corp. Hard earned trust overcame suspicion. The result: Anywhere from $2,000.00 to $20,000 in relocation payments per tenant, with the individual total dependent on length of stay, the number of adults on the lease, and the number of children in a household.
When it was over the residents marched forward with increased confidence and a new patch of common ground: They had lived together, faced fear together.
Now they would leave together — and then go their separate ways
Lonnie, a Vietnam Veteran, was the first to move. Two days after asking me to write him a recommendation, he bolted into the lobby, smiling and thanking me for helping him get a new place in Santa Monica. With fellow residents as an audience, he exclaimed: "You helped me get a new life!" As he spoke, I could see the remaining doubts of other residents wash away. They stared at each other with a look that seemed to say: "If he can do it, we all can."
The process is now in full gear. Each day, folks turn in their keys and head toward the future. With each move out, excitement fills the air. Rosa, a single mother of two children, is moving to Riverside, where she plans to enroll in school.
"The Ford was the bottom," Rosa said. "We were poor and did not believe. We believe now. I have a new chance at life."
Virgil, a sightless man, found a place in Pasadena.
"Moving was scary for me," Virgil said. "I must learn new sounds and smells to navigate my way in my new neighborhood. It is turning out to be a wonderful adventure!"
Angie has used the opportunity to walk away from a destructive relationship.
"I feared being alone," he said. "But he did not help me when I searched for a place. I know I can make it alone now. We all have new hope to pursue our dreams."
The collective transformation contains many lessons. The stories of these tenants amount to a ride through the fearful storm of uncertainty that often accompanies change. And change in life is certain.
All year long the folks of the Ford Hotel have been experiencing change. They have experienced fear in anticipation of change.
I thank these residents, whom I have been blessed to serve, for showing me that I can deal with the changes in my own life and end the year as strong as they have.
Walter Melton is a writer for the L.A. Garment & Citizen.
Photo by Walter Melton.
Read more stories from the L.A. Garment & Citizen »
Leave a comment