Mobile Parks Feel Wheels Turning -- Residents Concerned Over Future

There is a sense of insecurity these days that links many of the folks who live in Seattle's mobile-home parks - a fear that sometimes binds more closely than a sense of neighborhood or community.

Among those feeling anxious are young couples saving money for a down payment on a house, students wanting to complete college on the cheap, senior citizens who would rather spend their money on grandchildren - and many who simply cannot afford any other type of housing.

They bought their mobile homes, travel trailers and old school buses to gain affordable - yet independent - living. But it's a way of life that's becoming an anachronism. Since 1983, five Seattle trailer parks have closed, leaving only nine inside the city limits. Mobile-home parks are disappearing in King County as well.

With land values rising and ownership in some parks changing hands, once-stable mobile-home neighborhoods are now threatened by building pressures. When the city imposed a ban on redevelopment of the mobile-home parks in 1988, many residents were relieved. But that building moratorium expires May 31, leaving residents to worry

if eviction notices will follow June 1.

Here are some of their stories, glimpses into a threatened way of life.

Eighteen-year-old Travis Timmermans travels to Seattle from Eastern Washington for three-month stays while he studies to be an automotive technician.

The manager at Trailer Haven Park, 11724 Aurora Ave. N., "acts like a parent, in a way," Timmermans said. "He wants the lot to be presentable. He wants you to mow the lawn."

Across town in the Lake City Mobile Home Park, 12715 33rd Ave. N.E., Sam and LaJuanna Latsha are nearing 15 years of living together in mobile homes.

"I feel that I get far more luxury for my money that I do in a stick-built house," said LaJuanna Latsha, 53.

There are little niceties, like their 1963 mobile home's one-fourth inch oak paneling with grain matched at the seams.

Last year Katherine Brooks, her husband and children were evicted from a home because they stopped paying the rent. They lived in a tent for a while before moving into the Crest Motel along North Aurora Avenue.

They bought an older, two-bedroom mobile home at the trailer park near the motel that was a mess inside, with all its windows broken. Now, the windows have white lace curtains, new sills and glass - fruits of the couple's labor. The next project is replacing the furnace and renovating the kitchen. "I feel good, finally buying a home my kids will have," said Brooks, 28. "I wanted something I can fix up myself, the way I want it - just like when someone is building a house - just like starting a new life."

Some have few choices because of economics, physical disabilities and age.

Gil Pilon lost his home in a divorce. He moved into a mobile home 20 years ago, when monthly lot rent was $10, to be close to a fix-it shop he operated. Now the 79-year-old hands out nearly $200 a month in rent to live at University Trailer Park, 2200 N.E. 88th St.

A carpenter by training, Pilon joined the Navy during World War II. In the service he broke his back. A host of health problems followed, including hip replacement and recent surgery to remove gangrene from one leg.

He stays in a mobile home because he has few other choices. His primary concern is keeping his leg infection-free.

Even if neighbor Ethel "Tia" Reyes could find a place that would take her aging mobile home, she doesn't have $2,000 to pay a trailer mover. Reyes has collected $171 in monthly veterans benefits since her husband's death and another $227 in Social Security. Lot rent, sewer, water and garbage come to $185.25 a month.

She has managed to scrape together a few dollars here and there, and plants the money in the ground. Among her purchases: strawberry starters, towering tomato bushes swathed in plastic, roses planted in a yellow wringer mop bucket.

"If they put me with the rest of the old ladies (in subsidized housing), shoot, I'd lose my mind," said Reyes, 63. "It's a cubby hole to live in a trailer, but it's worse with no flower pots."

Even those embarrassed to admit to friends and co-workers they live in mobile homes agree there are some benefits. Sometimes neighbors and managers are nosy, providing a no-cost security system. Parks that accept children have loads of them playing together.

But with the good comes the bad.

Some of the metal homes are poorly insulated. They don't keep heat when it's frigid outside and don't cool down when it's sweltering.

At Crest Trailer Park, 14115 Aurora Ave. N., some renters toss their trash at Dumpsters without getting out of their cars. The spilled refuse attracts rats, homeowners say. At Jensen Trailer Court, 937 N. 97th St., with its towering trees, a community shower doesn't drain. Pooling water forms scum and makes cleaning up unsanitary. At National Trailer Park, 912 N. 125th St., more and more recreational vehicles have been allowed in, bringing unwelcome transience. Luella Hanson is moving from Crest, where lot rent has soared to $260 per month. A nearby apartment complex for low-income seniors offers shelter at a price the 84-year-old can afford.

Thirty years ago, when Hanson purchased her trailer at Crest for $18, neighbors were so friendly that even going for the mail was like a party, she said.

They've all gone or died. Now no one visits.

"I've been lonely here all winter," Hanson said.

The sheer tininess of the mobile neighborhoods means noise from one household will penetrate the closed doors of neighbors' homes.

At Westward Mobile Home Park, 9685 Martin Luther King Jr. Way S., sometimes it takes only three complaints to send an errant renter packing. Barbara "Bebop" Stomp and Jean "Lucky Lady" Anderson, both taxi drivers, figure they've called police a dozen times to report disturbances within the park and domestic violence at one mobile home.

Many mobile-home park owners refuse to allow dogs. Others bar children. At Westward, parents with small children sign agreements they'll move after the child turns 2.

Crest has it all - children, cats and dogs.

A neighbor's pit bull once attacked Katherine Brooks' 8-year-old niece, ripping into the left side of her face. Destruction of the dog, Stripe, which had bitten other neighbors, helped to ease community fears.

"He's a good neighbor now. Everything's changed. Everybody is getting together now," Brooks said. "Everybody's trying to fight to save this trailer court." ----------------------------

NINE MOBILE HOME PARKS REMAIN IN THE CITY

1. Crest Trailer Park. 2. National Trailer Park. 3. Bella B Trailer Park. 4. Halcyon Mobile Home Park. 5. Trailer Haven Park. 6. University Trailer Park. 7. Lake City Mobile Home Park. 8. Jensen Trailer Court. 9. Westward Mobile Home Park.