Sid Hoeltzell has witnessed a lot of things from the view of his Wynwood loft. Cars blasting their stereo bass so loud that the windows rattled. Children playing among tractor trailers. Art gallery warehouses replaced with mixed-use apartment high-rises and offices. And gun battles.
“There would be shoot-outs right outside this window,” recalled Hoeltzell, a photographer, chef, and Biscayne Times contributor. “I’ve seen three people get shot out here.”
Hoeltzell has lived and worked in a 2,500-square-foot live-work space at 120 NW 25th St. since 2001. When he moved in, Wynwood was still a depressed warehouse district where gangs competed for turf and “you couldn’t even get a cab.” As the area transitioned into a bourgeoning arts district, he transformed what used to be a fabric brokering office into a New York-style loft, where he slept, cooked and did his commercial photography.
“Look at this space. Look how beautiful this space is,” Hoeltzell said during a recent visit.
He’ll soon be packing up all his belongings and leaving. That’s because Hoeltzell’s landlord, David Lombardi, told him last month that he wants him out by November.
“He is throwing a senior citizen out,” grumbled Hoeltzell, 67. “I paid my rent during COVID. I’ve never been late in 20 years. Now, in the middle of COVID, in the middle of hurricane season, he’s throwing me out.”
Lombardi, one of Wynwood’s pioneering landlords, insisted that it’s nothing personal. There’s just a lot more demand for office space from tech companies moving to the area, and he doesn’t want anyone living in the building anymore. Hoeltzell pays $4,000 a month; a prospective tenant is offering $7,000.
“Every good plant needs to be repotted sometimes,” Lombardi said, referring to the 96-year-old building he’s owned since 1983. “I appreciate (Hoeltzell’s) tenancy, but the market has changed.”
Moratoriums Won’t Save Everyone
Hoeltzell is far from the only renter being forced to find a new place to live in Miami-Dade.
In spite of a series of moratoriums on evictions at the start of the pandemic, 14,664 eviction cases were filed between March 20, 2020. and Aug. 15, 2021, according to figures provided by the Community Justice Project, a nonprofit that provides legal assistance to working-class families. There was a spike of 176 eviction filings when the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s eviction moratorium lapsed for three days between July 31 and Aug. 3 of this year. Yet even after the Biden administration reinstituted the CDC order for counties with high COVID-19 transmissions, like Miami, another 411 eviction filings were recorded between Aug. 4-15.
Many of those cases had to do with tenants falling behind on their rent. But there’s a growing trend of landlords evicting tenants for reasons other than owing back rent. Instead, they want leases terminated so they can either redevelop their properties or attract higher-paying tenants. Such actions are not prevented by the federal eviction moratorium, said Sean Rowley, advocacy director for Legal Services of Greater Miami, especially if tenants have month-to-month leases.
“The moratoriums don’t have any effect on those scenarios,” he said. “The CDC is not going to prevent an eviction from someone who wants to terminate tenancies.”
Alana Greer, director of the Community Justice Project, said that while the federal moratorium and rental assistance are “critical lifelines” that have prevented many working-class families from being flung out onto the street, there are still big “giant loopholes” that need to be filled by local and state governments. Otherwise, Greer said, “people are still in danger in spite of the moratorium.”
The Biscayne Times has interviewed several people being forced to leave their homes even though they weren’t behind on their rent. Some of these renters are poor. Some, like Hoeltzell, are middle class. All are having a hard time finding a new place to live. That’s because landlords in Miami-Dade are seeking, on average, 30%-higher rents than they’re presently getting, said Edward “Ned” Murray, associate director of the Jorge M. Pérez Metropolitan Center at Florida International University.
“Apartment complex owners are asking for more rent because they know they can get it,” Murray explained. “There are basically zero vacancies.”
Driving that demand is a migration of people and money from high-tax states such as California and New York to low-tax Florida, said Ana Bozovic, a real estate broker and analyst. Those include people who own or work for tech companies, venture capitalists and hedge funds. They’re also professionals who earn lucrative incomes working at home.
In response to this trend, investors and REITs (real estate investment trusts) are pouring even more of their money into greater Miami real estate, said Bozovic, founder of Analytics Miami. She pointed out that $19.8 billion was invested in South Florida real estate in the first half of 2019. In the first half of 2021, there were purchases of $41.1 billion.
“That’s a 100% increase,” she said.
New Buyers = Higher Rents
Tony Arellano, managing partner of Dwntwn Realty Advisors, said a lot of the money is being invested within Miami’s urban core as well as surrounding suburbs like North Miami, where several development projects are being launched. This new wave of investment is generally a good thing, especially since venture capital and tech companies moving to Miami are “bringing high-paying jobs (with them),” Arellano opined, but also acknowledged a growing scarcity of affordable apartments in the region.
“There are more people than there is affordable housing,” he said, but “there are still plenty of good, multifamily building (with rents) at fair prices.”
Many of those affordable buildings are being bought by out-of-state investors who then evict tenants prior to an announced renovation, argued Zaina Alsous, an organizer with the nonprofit Miami Workers Center.
“We are hearing more and more as an excuse (for evictions) that a building needs to be renovated,” she said. “It’s just their way of removing long-term tenants from a building and increasing rents dramatically.”
One notable example is Hamilton on the Bay, a 28-story,140-unit apartment building at 555 NE 34th St. in Edgewater constructed by Carnival Cruise Line founder Ted Arison in 1984. Last September, Aimco, a publicly traded REIT based in Colorado, bought Hamilton on the Bay from the Arison family for $80.96 million. Hamilton residents – who were paying between $1,500 and $2,500 in rent – were told in May that they had to leave by July so the building could undergo necessary repairs to the sewer system and be remodeled (the high-rise was damaged by Hurricane Irma in 2017). Conveniently for Aimco, tenants had been encouraged earlier this year to sign new 18-to-24-month leases that contained an obscure termination clause.
Hamilton’s 150 residents have organized in an effort to demand more time and moving expenses. As of deadline, around 30 still remain in the building. In an Aug. 13 press release Aimco announced it will invest $92 million toward the Hamilton’s redevelopment, and that it had spent another $19 million purchasing six properties nearby.
Just a block away from the Hamilton, property managers affiliated with Miami Sunshine Properties are trying to empty out a three-story apartment building at 426 NE 34th St. In late July, they told around a dozen tenants residing in the 97-year-old building that they had less than 48 hours to evacuate because the building was on the verge of collapse. Inspectors from the City of Miami, and an engineer working for Sunshine Properties, ruled that while the apartment building does need repairs, it can still be occupied. Sunshine Properties is appealing the city’s ruling to the county’s unsafe structures board on Sept. 3.
Carlos Gonzalez, a spokesman for Miami Sunshine Properties, said safety is his client’s primary concern. However, the company, headed by Brazilian businessman Jose Alfonso Assumpçao, is trying to sell the building and 2.8 acres of adjacent Edgewater land to a developer interested in building a high-rise up to 50 stories in height, according to The Real Deal. Asking price: $49.5 million.
A Shrinking Economy & Population
Murray said affordable housing has become so scarce that rents are rising in places like Homestead. What’s worse, the county’s economy still hasn’t recovered from the COVID-19 pandemic. A recent Metropolitan Center report showed that Miami-Dade lost 134,459 jobs between February 2020 and June 2021, the majority in the leisure and hospitality sectors.
The pandemic has also amplified a trend that was already ongoing: a residential exodus. According to the 2020 Census, the county has a population of 2.7 million, an increase of 8.23% over the past decade. In comparison, the last decade has seen the population of Monroe County grow by 13.39%, Broward County by 11.23%, Palm Beach County by 13.03%, Collier County by 16.87% and Lee County by 22.96%.
Among those who have left Miami is six-year Hamilton on the Bay resident Greg Frank, who until recently ran a product promotions company. After trying to find a place to live within the Biscayne Corridor, Frank and his family moved to Dania Beach.
“I found a two-bedroom that is three-quarters the size of the one-bedroom we had at the Hamilton and (I’m being) charged at least 25% higher rent,” said Frank, who now works at the Hard Rock Casino as a banquet manager.
Most of his former neighbors have likewise departed for places outside of Edgewater.
“Some people moved to North Miami, other people moved to Allapattah, some people had to leave the state, some left the nation,” Frank said.
Some are stuck right where they are.
Steven Leidner, a retired veterinarian, said he is among the 30 or so people who still reside inside Hamilton, or, as he calls it “in limbo.”
“A significant number of people can’t afford to leave, they don’t have the deposits,” said Leidner, who has lived at the Hamilton for 18 years.
Leidner relies on Social Security for income and has severe balance issues, leaving him unable to drive or ride a bike. Even walking is tricky, though he’s learned to get around by “bouncing off” nearby stationary items.
“I’ve figured out ways to live here with my limitations,” said Leidner, who will likely be forced to move away from Edgewater and “beyond my comfort zone.”
Maria Ray, a business consultant, said she’d like to move to Puerto Rico to be with her elderly father, or anywhere else away from Hamilton’s near-constant construction noise. She doesn’t have the funds to relocate, thanks to a loss of income caused by COVID-19. The 12-year Hamilton resident is also being sued by Aimco for triple-back rent in arbitration. The company claims she assaulted construction workers and trespassed on her own balcony. Via attorney David Winker, Ray is countersuing for $25,000 for intimidation and fraudulently inducing Hamilton residents to sign lease agreements with termination clauses.
“I’m preparing to leave, but I have no way to leave right now,” Ray said. “I don’t have any way of showing steady income. Also, my credit has taken a hit.”
Tens of Thousands of Evictions
Ron Book, chairman of the Miami-Dade County Homeless Trust, admitted he has “sleepless nights” worrying about a potential avalanche of evictions. He said there may potentially be 30,000 people under threat of eviction in the county. And while most will likely find other accommodations, Book is fearful about those who may fall through the cracks. The Trust’s resources are being stressed to the limit as it is.
“The problem is that we got all these other demands based on buildings being condemned, all of which, at the end of the day, sort of sapped and drained our resources,” he said.
The Homeless Trust is still providing temporary shelter in hotel rooms for 315 people who were evacuated from Crestview Towers in North Miami Beach, and the 5050 NW 7th Ave. condominium in Flagami near Miami International Airport.
Book shared that his own assistant is having a hard time finding a new place to live within Broward County.
“She’s applied to several dozen places,” he recounted. And a few times, after she thought she’d secured a new address, “someone come in behind her and steal the unit” by offering more money. Right now, said Book, “she doubled up with friends.”
Hoeltzell said he’s just started looking for a new place to live, and is doubtful he’ll be able to find another studio like his current Wynwood digs.
“It has got to have a kitchen, a high enough ceiling, and a garage to keep all my props. I got three tons of props here,” he said.
What particularly hurts Hoeltzell is that Lombardi would drop him “so unceremoniously” after telling prospective tenants for years that he was “an ideal tenant.”
“That (expletive) Lombardi, he actually bought one of my mother’s paintings,” Hoeltzell fumed. “He used to be so schmoozy woozy, palsy walsy, and then, as soon as the money got big here, no offers, nothing. Just get out of here. He loved me so much as a tenant but now he loves money more. Like a lot of landlords. But, it’s his building. He can do what he wants.”