As Homeless Move In, Tenants Must Go

Nelson Ortiz has to pack up his one-bedroom apartment so Columbus House can give someone else the same chance he got 15 years ago — to move out of a homeless shelter and into a home.

Ortiz (pictured) is one the last tenants remaining at Valentina Macri Court, a small rundown public housing project on Frank Street in the Hill.

The tenants are now making plans to relocate, as the Housing Authority of New Haven (HANH) prepares to turn over the dilapidated property to a not-for-profit homeless service agency.

According to a deal working its way through government approvals, HANH will lease the building to Columbus House, which will make badly needed repairs and rent the apartments to clients from its homeless shelters.

Ortiz, who’s 56, is the longest-standing tenant at the complex. His apartment opens onto an inner courtyard, where neighbors enjoyed a sunny interlude on Thursday afternoon. He called Valentina Macri ​“a beautiful community” and a safe haven in a rough neighborhood.

All the tenants got notices that they have to relocate by October, Ortiz said. They won’t be on the street — they can choose an open spot in a housing authority project or take a federal Section 8 rent voucher to a privately owned apartment. Some tenants moved out early due to structural problems that made their apartments uninhabitable. Only seven of 17 apartments are now occupied.

Ortiz’s departure marks the beginning of a new cycle at the housing complex. When he moved in 15 years ago, he was living at a shelter run by Columbus House.

“I was homeless,” he said.

He recounted the story in an interview Thursday in his apartment. He answered the door with a smile, wearing green flannel pants, glasses and no shirt. He put out a cigarette and pulled out a chair in his dining area, where the walls reflect his proud American Indian heritage. His mother came from the Taino tribe in Puerto Rico, he said.

At the time he moved in, Ortiz was collecting unemployment. Originally from New York, he had worked a series of custodial and maintenance jobs in New Haven and New Britain. He went as far as Atlanta in search of work and ended up back in New Haven without a job. After a dispute with a roommate, he moved into Columbus House shelter, which was then on Columbus Avenue. He lived there while he waited for a public housing application to go through. After a couple of months, a spot opened up at Valentina Macri Court.

At first, Ortiz wasn’t happy about the location, which is in a rough part of the Hill neighborhood near the Truman School. He soon discovered he had made out well — he had landed one of five one-bedroom apartments at the complex. The rest are studios. He grew to like his new home.

“I’m lucky,” he said.

He spoke at a small kitchen table over the sound of ​“All My Children” blaring from the TV. Nearby, a mop stood at the ready in a yellow bucket. Ortiz said he strips and waxes his linoleum floor every spring, though he won’t bother this year, now that he’s moving out. His kitchen alcove is decorated with care. Matching coffee cups hang below a giant wooden fork and spoon. There’s a fresh coat of yellow paint on the cinderblock.

Ortiz said he painted the whole apartment himself. He tries to take care of it, as he does the rest of the complex.

He said he knows all his neighbors, most of whom are Puerto Rican senior citizens. The apartments are reserved for the elderly and people with disabilities. Ortiz falls under the disability category; he suffers from chronic pancreatitis and bipolar disorder.

When he moved in, all 17 apartments were filled. The complex, which was built in 1972, was in better shape then.

Over the years, he sought to keep the environment clean. He became the go-to person for enforcing Valentina Macri Rule Number One: No drugs in public places. One time, he said, a tenant told him someone was smoking crack in the communal laundry room. Ortiz confronted the smoker.

“You can’t do that here,” he recalled telling the man. ​“You’re going to have to leave.”

Ortiz said direct confrontation has usually worked. ​“People look up to me,” he explained.

“We kept the drug activity to a minimum — with no assistance from the housing authority,” Ortiz said.

In 15 years, his home has never been burglarized, he said Neighbors trust each other.

“We keep our doors open,” he said.

The tall gate that surrounds the complex is kept open, too. That’s because it’s broken, according to Ortiz.

Over the past few years, the community he watches over has shrunk. The laundry room is now roped off with a chain and a sign that reads ​“No Trespassing.” The community room is off limits, too; six apartments are boarded up.

That’s because of serious structural problems in the building, according to HANH Executive Director Karen DuBois-Walton. She said the complex needs repairs to the roof. In one spot, an overhang has been reinforced with plywood.

DuBois-Walton said the housing authority was forced to take six apartments off line because it doesn’t have the money to make repairs. She said federal guidelines now require all complexes to be economically self-sufficient, but Valentina Macri is not. The income from the renters just wasn’t enough to pay for the capital improvements, she said, so the complex fell into further disrepair.

As part of the deal that’s in the works, HANH and Columbus House would be ​“co-developers” on the property. HANH would lease the buildings to Columbus House for a dollar. HANH is also applying to the feds to convert the complex from public housing into project-based Section 8. That way, Columbus House can take out a city loan to make the capital improvements, then use the Section 8 rent, which is subsidized by the federal government, as a steady source of revenue to pay back the debt.

The project needs approval from the federal Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD). DuBois-Walton said she expects the approval to go through and the property to change hands in about six months.

After renovations, the complex will reopen as supportive housing for the homeless.

“Our greatest need right now is to be able to find affordable housing,” said Alison Cunningham, executive director of Columbus House, in a recent interview.

Because Valentina Macri is being set aside for the homeless, Ortiz and his neighbors wouldn’t be able to move back in.

Ortiz disagrees with the plan: ​“Why move people out to move other people in?”

Carmen Santiago, however, doesn’t mind.

Santiago, who’s lived at the complex for two years, said housing authority staff visited her Wednesday to discuss her relocation rights. She can move into another housing authority complex, take a Section 8 voucher, or accept a relocation payment and move somewhere else. Other tenants living above her have already moved to the Charles T. McQueeney Towers at 358 Orange St. or to the George Crawford Manor at 90 Park St.

Santiago said she doesn’t yet know where she’ll move.

“I have to start looking,” said Santiago.

Santiago (at left in photo), who’s 67, showed up in the courtyard after her afternoon nap Thursday. She sat in a plastic lawn chair on the cement terrace on the lower level of the courtyard with her son, Hector Torres Sr. (at right) and his three sons, Angel, Jason and Hector Jr.. The family visits her every day ​“so she doesn’t get lonely,” explained Angel Torres.

Santiago, who’s originally from Puerto Rico, said she’s looking forward to moving out.

“It’s good,” she said, ​“because everything is falling down.”

Hector Torres Sr. pointed to a hole in the ceiling above a carport. The roof above has been roped off. Other walls had holes in them, too.

He paused to greet Ortiz across the courtyard.

Ortiz said he’s looking at new apartments, too: He has his eye on the new complex at Sylvan Avenue, which was part of a trade with Yale-New Haven Hospital, which will demolish a public housing complex at 904 Howard Ave. and take the land.

He isn’t eager to move. He said it will be hard to find a replacement for Valentina Macri.

“It’s a beautiful community,” he said. ​“It’s nice and quiet here. We all get along.”