Thanks to the Long Island Housing Partnership, Harold Wieber and his wife Judy, both blind, were able to finance a three-bedroom ranch, a foreclosure, for $220,000 in West Babylon.
“We had worked with three agents with different companies,” Wieber says, “and we were being shown houses that were really beat up out east or unreachable price-wise.” His wife contacted the Partnership and together they found their dream house for them and their two kids. “When we first walked through it, even without vision, we knew we wanted it.” He said they always had someone with vision to accompany them on their tours. They sought a ranch with a fenced-in back yard.
“Having two kids and trying to keep track of them is hard enough,” Wieber says. “So having them all on one floor helps.”
Even though they both work, the house would have been unobtainable without the Housing Partnership.
Where Do We Go From Here?
Michele Crews was so excited she’d won the Town of Babylon’s homeownership lottery—a process by which the town allots a limited number of chances for affordable homes to those who would otherwise be locked out—she gave Peter Elkowitz, head of the Long Island Housing Partnership, such a hug she inadvertently ripped his white shirt. And he was wearing a suit jacket at the time. Michele and her husband Vernon Siders were living in a cramped apartment with their two kids, and they were hoping to move into a larger place so they could adopt two more. When her name was drawn, she knew a brand new day had just dawned for her and her family.
But Michele Crews is a rare exception. Most house-hunters here aren’t so lucky. The places they can afford are few and far between. Or illegal.
And as hard as the advocacy organizations try, they know their programs are just a drop in the bucket. The Housing Partnership may assist 3,000 people a year, including foreclosure counseling, credit workshops and down-payment assistance, but there are 15,000 people on their waiting list alone. CDC subsidized 3,694 rental units in 2008, helped 120 families close on their first homes while starting another 292 families on the “path to affordable homeownership.” They have thousands more waiting to be helped.
Habitat for Humanity of Suffolk, a not-for-profit organization that requires new homeowners to invest their “sweat equity” in lieu of a down payment, handles about 12 homes a year. Five are under construction now, and seven are scheduled to start over the summer and fall.
“We could get a little distracted by those statistics and become a little depressed,” says Les Scheinfeld, associate director of the group. “But we don’t because the next project is about the next family that we’re helping. Honestly, we look at everything we do as one home and one family at a time.”
Fortunately, some are in a better position to actually do something about the larger picture.
“What I tried to do when I came into office in 2004,” says Suffolk County Executive Steve Levy, “was get the county involved as a catalyst for affordable housing. We don’t have zoning powers. We can’t build housing as a county. But through my workforce housing commission I was able to bring together the stake holders, the developers, the environmentalists, the civic leaders and the planners. We said, ‘Find us the locations where affordable housing would be appropriate and the towns would go along with it, and then at the county level we’ll expedite the permits, and we’ll give incentives that we’ll set up for sewer and water hook-ups and possible land purchases.”
The county has helped in Bay Shore, Patchogue and Yaphank. “We’re trying to do the same with Riverhead,” Levy says, “but they’ve been slow to get off the dime.”
For Wyandanch Rising, an ambitious community-based revitalization effort, the county waived $10 million in sewer hook-up fees so the business corridor could accommodate higher density. The sewer construction is expected to break ground next month.
“When you talk about development and challenges, Wyandanch has all of them,” says Babylon Town Supervisor Steve Bellone. “The overall development that we’re talking about is half a billion dollars. But nobody is building anything huge in one fell swoop.”
Once the project gets going above ground, Wyandanch, acknowledged as “the most economically distressed community on Long Island,” could become the hippest.
“That’s the goal!” says Bellone excitedly. “We’re not putting this together parcel by parcel. We’re trying to create a real place here.”
Working on the Dream
Increasing the supply of affordable housing on Long Island won’t happen overnight. It will take time and energy, and the right combination of vision and guts to change public perception.
“Government and its people, in this case, failed each other. It’s hard to blame public officials when hundreds of people show up and say, ‘We don’t want this’ and you’re elected to serve the will of the people,” says Lawrence Levy of Hofstra’s Suburban Studies Institute. “But some village and town leaders have seen the future, and they’ve shown the courage to try to educate their voters and promote smarter growth.”
Levy cites Patchogue Mayor Paul Pontieri and Mineola Mayor Jack Martins as examples of leaders who took on the status quo and succeeded.
“These guys faced strong opposition and other obstacles and prevailed to the betterment of their community,” Levy says. “And they get elected by large margins.”
Revitalizing a blighted downtown area like Patchogue was a no-brainer for Pontieri.
“When I came into office, there were maybe three lights on Main Street [that stayed] on after 8 o’clock at night,” he says. Working with Pulte Homes to get Copper Beech, a three-story townhouse project, built downtown was the first step. Now it’s 100-percent occupied, with oversight from the Long Island Housing Partnership. The village invested $4 million in the Patchogue Theatre for the Performing Arts, and now it’s helping promote affordable housing for artists with assistance from a Minneapolis organization, ArtSpace.
By all accounts the nightlife of Patchogue, especially on the weekend, is hopping.
“My claim to fame,” says Pontieri with a big grin, “is that we started out with about two bars on Main Street, and there are about nine now. So when I leave office, I’ll probably be the fattest drunk in town!”
At least he’ll have company.