The statue of a virgin in Guadalupe and her gentle ceramic smile encouraged Santos Barrera as she tensed herself to a chair under the adjoining shrine on the patio of his house. Amid a terminal cancer diagnosis and a disputed eviction, he finds himself seeking her protection.
In November, Varela, 71, and 3,000 other residents of Li’l Abner Mobile Home Park in Sweetwater learned that the 50-year-old community was closed on May 19th, spelling a displacement to 15% of the city’s population.
Crei Holdings, owner of Li’l Abner, has decided to build affordable housing complexes where mobile homes are currently standing for each city group, the management company that oversees the park’s conversions. The move continues the statewide trend of trailer parks being closed to make way for development.
The mobile home owner, who left before the January 31 deadline, was able to collect $14,000 acquisitions from the park’s ownership. Most of them received the offer.
But Varera and the rest of the holdouts – about 20 people who stood rebelliously on West Flagler Street on Monday were unable to trade in both time and money in protest of the imminent potential removal amid the punishment in the morning. They needed more of each before re-entering the Miami rental market.
They vowed to await a class action ruling filed against the park’s owners and alleged illegal eviction.
Those who remained at Li’l Abner were paying rent and were legally entitled to live in the park until Monday. With the day of their eviction coming, some people, including Varera, fear that they can always spell their forced removal, despite their ambiguous legal status going nowhere else.
The park ownership has not told residents or the Miami Herald what plans will be to clean up the land.
“We don’t have a plan.”
Varera and his wife, Yolanda Lopez, purchased the trailer in 2007.
“It was a joy because we found a place,” recalled Varera, smiling, taking into account the beige façade of his home. The couple thought they’d bought a house forever. “But no,” Lopez quickly cut off before turning away.
Varela, who exacerbated her family’s housing anxiety, was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer in May 2023. During her husband’s illness and eviction, Lopez, 62, said stress in the family has been inflated since November. The stacking is full of “What ifs” as their leases are technically finished.
“If (the park ownership) comes to the police tomorrow and we’re going to remove us by force, we don’t have a plan,” Varera said. “It makes my chest stress,” he added. His eyes were one of many owners who settled in the Session Mound, which was once the home of a neighbor’s neighbor, and were eligible for a $14,000 buyout in January.
Spend your days with Hayes
Subscribe to our free Stephenly newsletter
Columnist Stephanie Hayes shares thoughts, feelings and interesting business with you every Monday.
You’re all signed up!
Want more free weekly newsletters in your inbox? Let’s get started.
Check out all options
Those who later left were given $7,000 in vacant seats by April and $3,000 to move by May. The rest of the holdouts get nothing.
None of Varela’s offers gestured in an explanation to Li’l Abner II, a recently built apartment complex billed as “affordable housing” did work. So, one bed and one bath start at $2,194 per month. Another complex of such facilities, Li’l Abner III, is promoting the workforce and affordable, advanced housing that will be open as early as next year.
However, “affordable prices” are relative. For many park residents, especially those with fixed income, paying rents of more than $2,000 a month is out of the question. According to data from the US Census Bureau, the median Li’l Abner household earns $3,666 per month, with an estimated 30% of the park’s population in poverty, with more than twice the number of people living below the Miami-Dade poverty line.
After paying rent, deposit and travel fees last month, Lopez wondered loudly how she and Varela were expected to reach her, who earned more than $1,200 in total monthly income from Social Security.
“For $14,000, you can almost make it, what, three months?” she estimated.
That was a small offer, considering he bought a mobile home for over $40,000 in 2007, Lopez said. Completely invested in the trailer – it’s solidified on the ground and takes six figures to move – their personal wealth has evaporated since the park’s closure was announced in November.
And while finding a new place to live is the best, here are more pressing questions that Lopez, Varera and the rest of the residents are asking: When will you officially lose your home?
No one seems to have an answer. The park’s ownership has not responded to requests for comment on details of its eviction plan and therefore has not communicated that information to residents.
“You need to have money.”
Currently, around 185 mobile home owners have participated in class action lawsuits against CREI Holdings, claiming illegal evictions. The court argues that not only is it compliant with the law, but it exceeds the requirements by providing incentives for relocation.
Park residents want $50,000 and an increase in legal costs for each homeowner.
However, without the former, the question of finding a new home might be controversial for many Li’l Abner residents who lack liquid assets.
“If you’re going to see, you need to have money in your hands,” Lopez said.
“We’re waiting for our lawyers to see if we can help us in the case,” Varela sighs, “I hope everything goes well.”
The story was created with financial support from supporters such as the Green Family Foundation Trust and Ken O’Keefe, in collaboration with Journalism’s fundraising partners. The Miami Herald maintains full editing control of this work.