A Writ of Possession

"You are hereby notified that in the above-entitled cause a writ of possession has been issued, commanding me to take possession of the premises occupied by you as indicated above, and that I shall, if ordered by the plaintiff, proceed on any weekday...to execute said writ, remove any personal property found thereon and take possession of the premises. THIS IS YOUR LAST NOTICE."

On a Saturday morning in early February, the residents and families living in 26 units of an apartment building in our neighborhood found this notice in their mailboxes. They were being told that within four days they could all be evicted from their homes by the U.S. Marshals Service.

A pile of some tenant's possessions stacked up on a sidewalk has become a too-familiar sight in our neighborhood. This eviction notice, and the prospect of being forced out of the apartment building, was merely the latest round in a battle for their homes that the tenants have waged for seven years.

The tenants' legal troubles began in 1979 when building owner H & M Bernstein, claiming "hardship," went to court for a 28 percent rent increase. Mr. Bernstein said that current rent payments were not sufficient to maintain and operate the building. The residents countered by filing a petition with the Rental Accommodations Office (RAO) and asked that the building's housing code violations be repaired before paying higher rents.

In 1983, when local housing inspectors finally examined the building, they found more than 500 violations. The RAO officials sided with the tenants and ordered that rent levels be rolled back. But the tenants' efforts to keep their homes were only just beginning.

The landlord appealed the decision to another District of Columbia office, the Rental Housing Commission. Not only did Bernstein lose before this commission, he was also told to pay $250,000 to the tenants for illegal increases and was fined $30,000 for overcharging.

Myra Singleton, a resident, said in a statement, "It is true that Mr. Bernstein owns this building and has a right to make a profit, but not through illegal means and at the emotional expense of the people whose homes are here." Nonetheless, while the tenants had won this battle, they soon found that their homes were still not secure.

Later that year the landlord tried to close the building, serving notice to the tenants that they would soon have to leave. The residents decided they would try to purchase the building collectively, but after finding Bernstein's price of $450,000 unreasonably high, they took their case to court.

The case was shuffled from one judge to another. A third judge eventually sided with the landlord, allowing Bernstein to close the building and evict the tenants at his convenience. But the judge also decided not to allow his decision to be stayed, or postponed, pending an appeal to a higher court. The judge said the residents had not demonstrated a substantial likelihood of success on appeal and that "the tenants would not be irreparably injured if the evictions occurred."

The judge's decision on the effect of evictions was mystifying to many since the low vacancy rate for available housing in the District has been at an emergency level for more than eight years. Myra Singleton pointed out, "There are people who have lived in this building for more than 20 years and know of no other place to call home. They have invested their lives in this building and have every right to call this building home."

As soon as it appeared that there would be no stay of the judge's decision, Bernstein acted immediately. In early 1986 the tenants received notice that they could be turned out of their homes in days. If they could be evicted before any further appeals, the solidarity of the residents would be broken, and their determination would wane.

ON THAT SATURDAY morning, the residents began to pack boxes and make arrangements for their children. But they also began to plan their response to the judge's decision. They sought a stay of the order in the Court of Appeals, and they planned a press conference to take place on the steps of their four-floor high-rise. Singleton said, "Most people believe that they have no rights as far as the system is concerned and that they can't fight the system."

Keary Kincannon, a Sojourners Community member who has worked on housing issues for several years, said that some of the residents were working more on stopping the eviction than on packing up their belongings. One was Sirell Carey, who offered to house Keary and his wife, Martha, when they were facing eviction a year ago (see "This Must Be My Place" by Keary Kincannon, April 1985). "I reminded him of his offer to me," Keary said, "and I told him 'Martha and I would like to make the same offer to you.' Sirell had even less time to find a place than I did a year ago."

Two days after receiving notices and two days before evictions were scheduled to begin, the tenants found out that they received a stay of the lower court's order pending the appeal of their case. "There were shouts of 'Praise God!' and 'Hallelujah!' when the news came," Keary said. "If you could pick your neighbors, these are the kind of folks you'd pick. Faith is a big part of their lives."

It could be a year before the appeal process is completed, and the residents of the building have much work to do in the meantime to keep their homes. Tenants across the entire city will face similar battles as they try to maintain decent, affordable housing.

Last year the District's rent control law was drastically weakened by a bill that barely passed the city council. Some of the worst provisions of that bill were later rescinded by a popular referendum, although the victory was slim.

Faced with opposition from the mayor, several of the city's most influential pastors, and the local realtors, the tenants in D.C. are used to struggling against great odds. But as Myra Singleton said, "We are here to say that you can fight the system, and sometimes you can even win!"

Joe Lynch was a Sojourners editorial assistant when this article appeared.