Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City

Scott doesn’t fight his eviction from the trailer park and instead focuses on locating another place to live. His friend, Pito, finds him a dilapidated upstairs apartment to share with his nephew D.P., a gang member recently released from prison. Pito arranges for them to clean out a trailer in exchange for the furniture and other belongings in it. Scott is still employed cleaning out repossessed houses, but the work has slowed down. He and D.P. sit on the steps outside their apartment, drink beer, and dream of better lives. Scott’s neck and back hurt. He wishes he could go to the doctor for Percocet, but he knows he would take them all in one day.

No one at the trailer park pays much attention when neighbors are evicted, usually thinking it’s helping to remove the riff-raff: “No one thought the poor more undeserving than the poor themselves” (180). However, this was not always the case. In the 1920s, tenants worked together during rent wars in New York City, which led to rent controls that are still the strongest in the country. Now, though, the poor are disconnected from each other due to thinking poverty is a temporary state no matter how long things have been that way, and everyone else is getting what they deserve. For things to be different would require “identifying with the oppressed, and counting yourself among them—which was something most trailer park residents were absolutely unwilling to do” (160).

Scott and the rest of the cleaning crew are fired, replaced by hypes working for $25 a day. He uses the last of his money to get drunk and high and during which time he calls his mother for the first time in over a year. He says things are going poorly and that he lost his nursing license. She tells him to come home to Iowa. He considers the possibility but can’t do it as he won’t have a drug connection there and at age forty will have to admit to everyone his life is a failure. Instead, he decides to go to rehab. There is, however, not an opening on the morning he shows up. He can try again the next day, but instead goes on a three-day bender.  

Arleen is still trying to find a place to live without any luck. One night, she and Crystal hear Trisha, their upstairs neighbor, being beaten by Chris, who does maintenance work for Quentin. Crystal is concerned, but Arleen has too many of her own problems to care. Even Crystal says, “If a man hits you like that and you let him back in, you like it” (187). Eventually, enough is enough, and Crystal calls the police, who come and arrest Chris. The next day, the police call Sherrena to say they’ve made three nuisance calls to the property within thirty days—this includes the period the previous tenant was there—and unless she submits an approved plan to abate these problems, she will be fined for all future costs associated with police going to the property. Sherrena’s approved plan is to evict everyone.

In the last portion of the twentieth century, nuisance property ordinances came into existence to hold landlords responsible for tenant behavior. In 2008 and 2009, the Milwaukee Police Department issued a nuisance property citation to property owners every thirty-three hours. In the primarily black North Side, 1 in 16 eligible properties received a citation. In white neighborhoods, the rate was 1 in 41. Domestic violence cases made up 83% of these citations, and landlords almost always responded by evicting tenants. The year Crystal called the police, more than one person per week was killed by their current or former romantic partner or relative. The Milwaukee Chief of Police appeared on the news saying these murders could be prevented if only people would call the police more often. As Desmond points out: “What the chief failed to realize, or failed to reveal, was that his department’s own rules presented battered women with a devil’s bargain: keep quiet and face abuse or call the police and face eviction” (192).

After returning from church, Crystal tells Arleen she worked a deal out for Arleen to stay until Thursday, which also means Crystal must move to one of Sherrena’s other properties. Arleen becomes unhinged, angry about the fact it was Crystal’s calls to the police that are forcing her out before having a place to live. Crystal tells Arleen: “The issues you got? Can’t nobody fix ‘em but God” (194). The women have an unexpected moment of connection after discovering they were both molested as children. Crystal goes on to tell lengthy story of how the Spirit of God saved her even though her crack addict mother couldn’t be saved. Arleen is stunned. Then she receives a phone call about an apartment she can’t afford. Crystal says, “If I can’t promise you anything else, it’ll be all right. That much I can say” (196).

After the first of February, Sherrena and Quentin are flush with money as many tenants like Doreen have received tax refunds and are catching up on what they owe. (Lamar is still behind and will have to be evicted.) To celebrate, they go to a casino, where Sherrena plays blackjack while Quentin watches. They are unexpectedly forced to leave when Quentin receives a call saying one of the duplexes off Wright Street is on fire.

The fire started in Kamala’s apartment, which is above Lamar’s. She and her boyfriend were downstairs playing cards while her father watched her three daughters. At some point, her father left, and one of the daughters knocked a lamp over, which started the fire. By the time Sherrena and Quentin arrive, the whole structure is engulfed in flames, and Kamala’s youngest daughter is dead. News reports say the firefighters didn’t hear any smoke alarms upon arriving. Quentin is sure a smoke detector was in the kitchen, but there are supposed to be additional ones in each sleeping area. Sherrena can’t remember if any more were there or not.

The next day, Sherrena learns she is not liable for what happened. She asks the fire inspector if she must return Kamala’s rent as it was early in the month and is relieved to learn she does not. Sherrena decides to demolish what’s left of the building and keep the insurance money. She says, “The only positive thing I can say is happening out of all this is that I may get a huge chunk of money” (202). Plus, she’s spared the expense and effort to evict Lamar.