Trailer Park Paradise Lost

Nobody knows for sure who made the fateful telephone call to Santa Monica City Hall.

It could have been somebody complaining about raw sewage puddling up behind 1950s-vintage trailers parked over in Row A.

Maybe it was someone from one of the aluminum-sided coaches in Row D, grumbling about enforcement of rent control.

Or perhaps it was a gripe about dirty tap water or flickering dinette lights in one of the 8-foot-wide units along Row B.

One thing seems certain: Whoever summoned city officials two years ago certainly wasn’t aware of the havoc the call would soon inflict on the Village Trailer Park.

For nearly 50 years, the collection of old-fashioned travel trailers tucked beneath a grove on the city’s east side had been all but invisible to municipal officials--even to those overseeing the recent conversion of a nearby neighborhood into a glitzy entertainment-industry center.

The trailer park was built in the late 1940s as a camp for vacationers and weekend beach visitors. Over the decades, it evolved into a quaint year-round community of faded Gulfstreams, Streamlines and other travel coaches permanently parked next to Colorado Avenue.

The compound’s 109 tenants jealously guarded their spartan lifestyles. “Heaven” is the word one resident used to describe the place. “An oasis” is the way another put it.

One reason is that their kind of trailer--small ones that are short and narrow enough to be towed behind cars--are not allowed among the fancy modular units and double-wides of today’s modern mobile home parks.

And where else could they live for $239 a month on the Westside, not to mention in trendy Santa Monica itself?

But somebody was mad enough about something in 1998 to demand that City Hall step in. And when officials showed up, they sent for reinforcements.

Inspectors discovered that many of the trailers violated safety laws by being too close together. They found natural gas lines installed decades ago that lacked permits and were dangerously corroded. Old sewer pipes were leaking raw effluent onto the ground, they said, and plumbing vents were improperly propped up next to trailers’ windows.

Half a dozen substandard, illegal buildings were scattered about the park, and storage sheds leaned precariously close to trailers. Tap water in some coaches was murky and silty, the inspectors said. Faulty electricity hookups were common, with wires between trailers and meters often loose and exposed, they found. Driveways were too narrow for firetrucks to easily negotiate.

Before it was over, virtually every trailer in the park was reportedly cited for at least one defect. And the park’s owner--who rents space to individual trailer owners--was ordered to fix his share of the problems by Dec. 15, 1999.

He didn’t get it done by the deadline, however. And for trailer owners, what happened next signaled the end of the world as they knew it.

Park occupants suffered a communal nervous breakdown when rumors spread that the trailer camp owner had decided to shut the place down and sell its 2 1/2 acres for $10 million to developers. Neighboring blocks along Colorado Avenue had already been taken over by such dot-com and show-biz firms as EMI Music, MTV Networks, MGM, Sony Music, Microsoft, Pearson Television and Universal Music Group.

Calming Fears of Residents

Those jitters ended when city officials pointed out that the site was zoned for trailers, not office buildings, and park owner James Muramatsu announced that he would begin making the $1 million in repairs the city required.

But residents--most of whom are senior citizens--quickly learned that they would have to reposition rickety trailers whose rusty wheels hadn’t turned since Eisenhower was president to comply with laws that require six-foot spaces between coaches.

They were told that substandard awnings, decks and add-on sun rooms would have to go. Lovingly tended vines, shrubs, flower beds and hand-laid walkways that give the park a look of permanence would have to be dug up so that new water, sewer, gas and underground power lines could be installed.

Convenient tenant parking next to many coaches would be eliminated to make driveways wide enough for fire engines. And the park’s beloved canopy of trees would have to be chopped down.

The park fell into turmoil when work actually got underway earlier this year.

“Over the last year this place has turned into a nightmare,” said Trigg Kelly, a gardener who has lived in an 8-by-27-foot trailer since 1989.

Natalie Lewis shook her head and sighed when she described what it was like when she settled into her 25-foot trailer in 1987.

“There were wonderful jacaranda trees everywhere, and it looked like a real park. It was great, and we were all very happy.” Then things turned chaotic, she said.

Geri Meeks said she was among those who had suffered through periodic bouts of backed-up sewage at her 30-foot-long, 43-year-old trailer. But when a city inspector stopped by, his eyes were drawn to her rooftop sun deck.

“He said the deck had to come down, that it was a fire hazard. I’m really upset,” said Meeks, a retired hairstylist.

When workers later began digging trenches on the west side of the park, 79-year-old retired firefighter Vernon Van Wie’s tomato garden next to his trailer was the first to disappear. For months after that, residents had to cross open ditches to reach their homes.

“We’re hostages in our own places,” said Rose Kendall, a retired construction management consultant.

Neighbor Darlene McNama, who heads a park residents association, helped 23 residents file complaints with the city over alleged rent-control ordinance violations. In July, 45 of them filed suit against the park’s owner for allegedly failing to maintain the place and causing the mounting problems.

The trailer park’s management responded by supporting the creation of a rival homeowners association and by announcing the owner’s intent to sell the park to a nonprofit group that would continue to operate it.

Retired movie studio driver Tom Casley heads the rival residents’ group. He defends the removal of the trees, whose roots he blames for the park’s sewer pipe problems. “The choice was: You have room to park or you have trees. None of us wanted to lose the trees, but it was time,” Casley said.

Trying to Retain Affordable Housing

James Joffe, whose property management firm operates the trailer park for Muramatsu, acknowledged that the owner would like to see the park closed and its site redeveloped.

“Until two years ago the place was an absolute delight,” Joffe said. “Here’s what you had: a sleepy little trailer park that is not mainstream America and is most certainly not mainstream Westside L.A. or Santa Monica. And people start getting things stirred up, saying, ‘We should have a better place to live.’ ”

Joffe contends that the park and its old trailers “have way outlived their usefulness. The best thing would have been for the park to close down.” Vacant, the park could probably fetch $12 million to $15 million if sold, he said.

Muramatsu could not be reached for comment. (“You have a better chance of having a conversation with the head of the CIA,” Joffe said.)

But the man in charge of the nonprofit organization that wants to buy the Village Trailer Park said it will remain as affordable housing if the $4.5-million deal goes through.

However, said George Turk, tax-exempt financing--with about $1.5 million in backing from the city--will be necessary before his Costa Mesa-based Millennium Housing group can close the deal.

Turk said his group owns about 600 mobile home spaces in California and is in escrow for the purchase of 1,000 more.

City officials said they want more information about Millennium Housing and its proposal before committing support to Turk.

“We’ve said we’d look at any proposal, but we’re not there yet,” said Jesus Morales, acting housing coordinator for Santa Monica’s Housing and Redevelopment Division.

Other officials said they don’t know how the Village Trailer Park managed to stay beneath building and safety inspectors’ radar for so long. But after the problems are fixed, the city is willing to step back, they said.

“We have no intention of trying to gentrify the park; that’s one of the biggest concerns of the existing residents,” said Tim McCormick, a city building and safety official.

“They may not be the most modern and have the latest conveniences. They may not be able to plug in the TV and the microwave at the same time. But that’s their choice,” McCormick said.

“Santa Monica is committed to preserving low-income housing. And this is one of them.”