About 30 years ago I ran a street level charity just west of the brewery. Joint Neighborhood Ministry provided limited help to some of those behind on their rent.
I remember one of our oldest friends fell behind on her rent after a health issue. I called the landlord, a young guy who had inherited the property from his dad: “I couldn’t throw her out,” he said. “She bakes me cookies. Tell you what. You tell her you wrote a check, I’ll tell her I got a check and it’s done.”
JNM’s service area also included a medium size apartment complex. The manager never made repairs but he hit taped a nasty form letter to their door the day the rent was late. That first letter got followed with more demeaning and illegally threatening ones until – on the first day possible – the complex’s lawyer sued for eviction.
This being before the internet, it took a while to track down the complex’s owners: a group of very prosperous Indiana doctors who didn’t mind being slumlords so long as it wasn’t in their home town.
Back to 2020…thanks to COVID 19 and the economic chaos it created, a terrific number of American – and local – households are behind on their rent or mortgage payments. According to the Mortgage Bankers Association,
During the third quarter, the percent of homeowners and renters behind on their payments decreased slightly from the second quarter, but the overall amount remains high. In September, 8.5% of renters (2.82 million households) missed, delayed, or made a reduced payment, while 7.1% (3.37 million homeowners) missed their mortgage payment. — Mortgage Bankers Association
Alas, it seems that estimate of six million households behind may be low. CNBC, for example, cites studies showing that 32% of households are in arrears.
Using either math, it’s probably safe to say that at least 100,000 St. Louis area families owe big money against their rent or mortgage. Many find themselves appealing to charities for help. Probably 90% of those who ask will be told “No.”
The first issue is basic math. For example, at Circle Of Concern in my day we would assist with up to $400 in rent if our payment bought the family another month’s housing. Our goal, after all, was to help families, not enrich landlords. Yet, the number receiving even that limited amount got controlled by budget forces. Back then we spent about $25 per family on fresh produce, milk and meat. That $400 essentially helped one family or 16. Cruel decisions had to be made.
Second, rent is expensive. The latest guess is that the average rent in this market is $965 a month. Unfortunately that sounds about right. I looked-up the cost of the “garden apartment” my wife and I lived in right after we married. That unit now costs $865 a month. (I really hope they’ve upgraded the kitchen.)
Worst, is the landlord conundrum. Again, many landlords treat their tenants as friends and want to help. Then there are the majority of landlords, cogs in corporate wheels answering to investors and the dreaded “home office.” If funds are limited should a charity forward a donor’s money to a nice guy, or, to Eviction Inc.?
Within the chatter out of Washington D.C. morsels of ‘rental and mortgage assistance’ plans leak. Yet, that chatter sounds more and more like idle gossip. The chances of any more pandemic relief seem to be fading away.
That means thousands upon thousands of our neighbors will be turning to charities for help to keep a roof over their heads. Most will lose that roof, many before the Holidays. 2020 strikes again.
A Quick Update…
Last week three political signs in my yard disappeared. Police were called, and, reluctantly, a report was made.
The next day the signs re-appeared, in the bed of my pickup truck. (No, I looked about the yard and in the truck before calling the police.) The arrival of the police car seemed to inspire the sign grabber to repent.
Still, I’m spending a lot more time in the recliner in my living room watching my – now – five political signs.
Glenn