September 2- 8, 2004

city beat

Roots of Discontentment

Growing pains: Edith Ortiz of South Philadelphia says roots from a neighbor's tree damaged her home. Photo By: Michael T. Regan

A woman from Federal Street takes Universal Companies to task for problems with her home.

by Deborah Bolling

Edith Ortiz has lived on the 1600 block of Federal Street for 37 years. For the past 24 of those years, her next-door neighbor has been an abandoned building.

Since 1982, when she unsuccessfully attempted to purchase the rundown house through a sheriff's sale, she's had no choice but to watch the two-story structure crumble. Over time, the roof has caved in and the windows have fallen out. In heavy winds, bricks rain down on the weed-infested grounds. And lately, invasive trees with menacing branches and unwieldy roots have become problems that have spilled over Ortiz's property line.

Having received no assistance from the city or Universal Companies, the building's new owners, Ortiz is considering her legal options, but pinpointing just how much damage the neighboring property has caused to her home has been difficult. She's had problems obtaining estimates for any repairs because, she says, contractors don't want to be responsible for future problems that they consider inevitable.

Four years ago, Universal Companies, the real estate company refurbishing this forlorn neighborhood that's owned by music-mogul-turned-developer Kenny Gamble, acquired the edifice and promised renovation [Cover story, "Taking a Gamble," Deborah Bolling, March 6, 2003].

By 2002, though, it had only partially removed a gargantuan ailanthus tree that had grown wild on the untended grounds. During that same year, Ortiz noticed something even more disturbing than the eyesores: The roots of the remaining tree stump had crept beneath the fence that separates the two properties, traveled underneath the pavement and snaked into her drainpipes.

"The root is so large, it forced its way under the cement in my back yard and now the pavement is cracking," she says. "I've been calling the city and have been put on hold for up to 20 minutes at a time. I've called Universal many times, too, but I've gotten no response."

This summer's heavy rains added to Ortiz's dilemma. With her drains clogged by the roots, her basement has been flooded for months. Eventually, it caused her hot-water heater to short out. Now, she complains that mosquitoes are thriving, her plumbing has backed up and the smell has become unbearable.

"Nobody is doing anything," she says, "but my property is getting more and more damaged."

But just last week, perhaps due in part to Ortiz's insistence, officials from the city's Licenses and Inspections Department issued two violations to Universal citing safety concerns and finally posted a sign on the building, warning people not to venture onto the now-dangerous premises. The department, citing policy, considers the case as a private matter between neighbors.

This community, once a bustling neighborhood just west of Broad Street, has become characterized by its glut of deserted buildings and mounting debris. Since 1999, however, Universal Companies has been acquiring swaths of abandoned properties in the area and slowly transforming them into affordable new housing. While most of Ortiz's neighbors have moved on and new ones have moved in, she has stayed put. Ortiz hoped that Universal would be a boon to this community. Now, she's not so sure.

"With all this new development going on, I'd like to stay to see what happens," she says, "but [Universal] is making it so hard."

Tariq Ali, Universal's facilities manager, says his organization has reached out to Ortiz, but redevelopment takes both time and patience.

"We have to bulldoze the building in order to grind down the stump — and we plan to do that," says Ali. "But, it's not like we haven't met any of her demands. I've even cut down trees in the [adjacent] lot that she owns."

Ali says that he doesn't believe the building has become hazardous. He also questions Ortiz's motives, wondering if her expectations of Universal are overly demanding.

"Before we got the properties, she dealt with the problems," he says. "But all of sudden, now that Universal is in the picture, that's when she started complaining. We talked only a month ago. Frankly, the wheels just don't turn that quick."

Ortiz says that she's been trying to communicate with Universal for three years. She even sued them in 2000, after she tripped and injured herself when the company closed one side of the street for construction and the sidewalk on the other side was broken and jagged. Universal settled the suit in 2003, paying Ortiz $19,000 for her troubles.

"I told them last year that I'm not going to sit here and watch my property get damaged because of a tree," she says. "I told them that something had to be done immediately — and that was in May 2003. Here we are in August 2004 and nothing has been done."

A few weeks ago, Ortiz met Thomas Barnes, a retired Philadelphia cop, who now spends his days cutting down pesky ailanthus trees — like the one whose roots invaded Ortiz's property. The species, also known as a stink tree or a tree-from-heaven, is a known menace in urban areas, often growing as high as 90 feet with no care or attention.

For $200, Barnes offered to dig up the tree roots that were damaging Ortiz's property. Last Sunday, he showed up with his work crew.

"I cut two or three feet off of the roots," Barnes says. "So, that root is done — but the stump itself is not done, and the roots could grow back. I've been waging my own war against these trees for the past nine years. They're everywhere, and they're destroying Philadelphia."

Ortiz says the problem has not been resolved.

Barnes "didn't touch the drain," she says. "The root was growing on top of it, but he only cut off part of it, and so it's still growing into my house. I don't know where it stops. The only way to find out is to have my kitchen floor taken up."

Ali promises that Universal will send a plumber and other maintenance workers to Ortiz's house very soon.

"We'll snake out her drain, clean out the roots, alleviate the water situation and take care of the sidewalk," he says.

But so far, she hasn't heard from them, nor does she expect to.

"I've stopped calling them," she says. "I've worked hard all my life so that at this point, I could sit down and enjoy some peace and quiet — but every day it's a brand-new thing."