Deadline Passes, but Simi Valley Squatters Cling to Their Refuge

The deadline to leave the church parking lot passed at midnight, but many of the squatters didn’t budge from their makeshift trailer park. They were planning their next move and reminiscing about their dusty encampment in Simi Valley as though it were home.

Dozens of people--most working odd jobs or receiving government assistance--had parked their campers and trailers behind St. Francis of Assisi Episcopal Church for months. They became a family of sorts, running errands for the elderly and sick among them. They collected money for trash pick-ups, and one of them painted the church’s classroom building.

But they also drew the ire of neighbors and ran afoul of a city ordinance. That law requires that people who live in trailers own the land they sit on.

The city told the church in September that the group had to go. The church, with the agreement of city officials, set a deadline: no one would be allowed to stay past Dec. 1.

But by Tuesday, only half of the trailer residents had moved out, and the frustration of church officials--who once had welcomed the group--was beginning to show.

“I want them out of here as soon as possible,” said the Rev. Barbara C. Mudge, the church’s vicar. “They’re getting to the point where they feel they have a right to remain here.”

Doesn’t Want Confrontation

Mudge would not say exactly what steps she will take if the squatters do not leave soon. “My prayer is that we don’t come down to a major confrontation,” she said.

The phenomenon of people without homes is “not a St. Francis problem,” Mudge said. “It’s a problem we all have to work on.”

The eviction has cast a spotlight on homeless people in the affluent eastern Ventura County city, particularly on those who choose to live in trailers.

“We realize these people are having a difficult situation, but you cannot correct one situation by breaking the law,” said Diane Davis-Crompton, Simi Valley’s human resources director.

Davis-Crompton said, however, that there are no plans to force a showdown at the church.

“No one will be forcibly moved onto the street,” she said.

Davis-Crompton said the city does not have the manpower to counsel the homeless or facilities to house them. But the city gave the church a list of social service agencies that could help the squatter group, she said.

Mudge said she will ask the City Council and the Simi Valley Ministerial Assn., an interfaith group of churches, to look into whether there should be a residential trailer park in the city.

At the makeshift trailer park Tuesday, several squatters said they will return to Ventura County parks, where they may stay up to two weeks at a time before having to hit the road again.

“The city wants to sweep us under the rug and get us out of Simi Valley,” said Kate Alexander, a weathered woman of 52 who says she has health problems and has applied for state workers’ compensation. She said she doesn’t have the money to get her car running.

Developed Sense of Community

“There’s been a lot of caring here. When we’re separated, we’re all going to feel we’ve lost a family,” she said, as a nearby pit bull terrier barked wildly and tugged at a rope tying him to a trailer hitch.

To help out the transient population, the church opened its dirt parking lot to trailers in October of last year, Mudge said. It was envisioned as a way station for itinerants forced to leave county parks, but it quickly became much more.

People parked their trailers in two neat rows. Children found playmates from families living in other trailers. The residents were a mixed bag, according to Mudge--some down on their luck, others with mental illnesses, and a few “people who choose this kind of life.”

The early squatters organized themselves and screened those who wanted to stay, turning away a few. They also collected $5 each month from each trailer or car to pay for trash removal. The church also asked them to clean up the bathrooms they used in the classroom building.

Some pitched tents and barbecued. And while harmony generally prevailed in the unlikely community, residents said, there was also some drinking and a few fights.

Down to 25 Residents

By summer as many as 44 people lived there, and neighbors were complaining of the noise, Davis-Crompton said. Since September, when the church announced the impending eviction, the number dwindled to about 25, she said.

‘Hang My Hat’

“We don’t want to cause problems for anybody,” said Steve Olsen, 37, an unemployed handyman. “I just want a place to hang my hat, an address and use of a telephone until I can find a job.”

Olsen left the parking lot Tuesday morning, saying he would park his pickup truck-trailer combination at the house of a “Christian acquaintance.”

Another resident suffered burns to the side of his face when he attempted to repair his car to get it started, and the radiator exploded.

The departing residents were offered assistance, including small amounts of cash and advice on public housing, by Catholic Charities of Ventura County. But only two families accepted public housing from the county, according to charities representative Ruben Castro.

The rest intend to live in their trailers or cars, Castro said. Because the permanent trailer parks in the county remain full, they will shuttle between parks and city streets, he said, parking on the latter in violation of city law.

“There’s no end to this cycle,” Castro said.