Thursday, April 17, 1969 THE MICHIGAN DAILY Page Five THE ICHGAN AIL~aae FiI . The quixotic adventure of Frank. Harar Or how land speculation and city hall's neglect have contributed to Ann Arbor's low-income housing shortage By DANIEL ZWERDLING WALK THROUGH the North Cen- tral area, North Main and Fifth and Fourth, Ann Arbor's faded and grimy scrapbook of the old days when the working class muscle lived by the railroad tracks with the whistle of locomotives hauling freight to Chica- go and the screams of hogs butchered in the now defunct Peters Sausage Plant. The blacks live here in Ann Arbor's ghetto, rows of rotting wood Ameri- cana, crumbling wood porches, rusted screens and carcasses of 1957 Fords. The blacks live here. The majority (75 percent) rent their homes, and in many cases white businessmen reap the profits. Since 1965. when the Re- publican city administration started . talking urban renewal, the blighted area has become potentially one of the most profitable areas in the city -a target for a handful of speculat- ing realtors who know that when the local junkyard goes and the apart- ment developments start coming in, the areas' proximity to downtown and campus could make it a real estate bonanza. The chief figure in the property drama is Frank Harary, University math professor and highly reputed graph theorist. Harary is a realtor by avocation: since 1965 he and his wife Jayne have acquired over $200,000 worth of old houses throughout Ann Arbor. "Their pattern is to buy old houses, divide them into apartments, main- tain them as poorly as possible, raise the rents," says a Human Relations Commission study made in 1967-and chalk up scores of building code vio- lations (including six condemned houses in the past two years). Harary, says the study, "has a repu- tation of being a typical 'slumlord'." With already a sizeable assortment of old houses to his name, Harary be- gan in 1965 methodically buying ev- ery property possible on two dreary blocks sandwiched between North Main, Fifth and Fourth streets. Using real estate agents Charles Reinhart, (a former Republican City Chairman) and Bernice Schreider, Harary approached almost every home offering a fast sell, lures of cash and sometimes, a property trade. . And suddenly, in 1966, the com- munity began to realize what was go- ing on: a professor from the Univer- sity owned 10 lots (six with houses), over $100,000 in property, and was still trying to get more. The fear: that outsiders were grab- bing property from residents to ex- ploit for apartment development at a huge profit, forcing land values to skyrocket beyond the financial reach of poor blacks to whom the shabby, but cheap houses offer homes which other sections of the All-America city would deny them. "The people here a r e poor," says Russell 'Howard, a long-time resident of Ann Arbor and a member of the Workable Program Committee. "A lot of them are elderly, many of them are widows-and they're usually in debt." A model cities program proposal prepared' by the city last April des- cribes the mood bluntly: "Fear and apprehension are presently a major factor confronting the neighborhood." PROPERTY SPECULATION is not illegal, and of course residents in the area, don't have to sell if they don't wish to. But when high pressure salesmen dangle offers of cash or pro- perty trades, it's hard for the poor to resist what seems like a once-in-a- lifetime chance to move from their bleak but secure homes to better sur- roundings. And then some residents-especial- ly the elderly-fear that high pres- sure white businessmen have enough dollar power to uproot people with- out their consent. "I'm worried to death," says Mrs. Gene McIntyre, an elderly widow who has lived for years at 709 N. Fifth St. "When my husband died realtors just went for me and tried to t a k e my property-it was disgusting. "I can't sell now. Where would I go? Let the people have peace while they live here." Bettie Garnett is another widow, house if I had waited," regrets How- ard. He says his present home is not much better than the one he left. Reinhart insists he uses honest, ev- eryday business methods, and denies he has ever pressured residents to sell against their will. "I would call it 'encouragement,' to find better property," Reinhart ex- plains. "I have felt a commitment to help minority peoples in the area find better housing." Some residents whom Reinhart has approached for Harary disagree. Mr. J--, for example, was serving a pri- son sentence in 1965 when Heinhart wrote him a letter-with a contract enclosed, already signed by the Har- arys-urging him to accept a 100 per cent cash offertfor $4500, "no mort- gage or anything." When Mr. J---- ignored the offer, Reinhart sent another signed con- tract for $500 more, adding, "We no- most of the people think he is a "front" for a more powerful, promi- nent group of businessmen who, as one prominent lawyer in town says, "don't want to get their hands dirty."L THE HARARYS discount such re- ports, saying they have been ma- ligned. "We have been the object of fantastic rumors that we want to ex- ploit the area for profit," laments Mrs. Harary. The Hararys say they became inter- ested in the North Central Area only in 1965, "when there was a lot of talk about the poor Negroes and what to do with them, and nobody did any- thing. So we said 'Let us see if we can do something to help them'." Their first chance came when Rein- hart listed a house for sale on N. Fourth; the Hararys bought it. Har- ary says now he told Reinhart, "al- most jokingly, if I could buy every property on the whole block, I could build high quality, low-rent non-pro- fit housing-and help the poor people find a better'place to live." So the Hararys, Reinhart and Mrs. Schneider began combing e v e r y house on the two blocks for quick And Harary points out he hasn't bought any property in the area since 1966-which is true. "We finally came to our senses two years ago, and realized it would be better all around for everybody if we didn't buy any more, and sold all the property," says Harary. But this hasn't kept him from try- ing to busy more. In the past few months Harary has approached David Scott of 709 N. 4th (Scott says he'll sell if the price is right), Clara Davis, who owns 318 Beakes, and he has sent Mrs. Schneider looking at 700 N. Main. All these properties are adjacent to Harary's present holdings, and would turn them into huge blocks of land if he bought them. Apparently, he can't. "We can't afford to buy any more property," says Harary, who has ex- tended himself thin throughout the city "We would develop with what we already have," he claims, "but the bottom fell out of the mortgage mar- ket, and a builder has told me I have enough land yet to make development possible." At the moment, the North Central Area is quiet. Harary hasn't develop- of how many violations of any single landlord in Ann Arbor. They also demonstrate how land- lords can perpetuate housing viola- tions, avoiding both compliance with city demands and the penalties re- quired by law for failing to do so: * Four of Harary's houses-all with- in one block of each other on N. Fourth-were condemned and evacu- ated by the city in September 1968. At 633 N. Fourth, the inspector or- dered Harary to replace the floors, the walls and the ceiling and com- pletely rewire the entire house. ("Can you imagine that?" Harary asks in- credulously; "that would have meant replacing the whole house.") After he evacuated the houses, Harary failed to board them as re- quired by law (to prevent people from wandering in). The city issued a war- rant and set a date for a trial in court. But on the day of the trial Harary didn't appear, forfeiting his bond, and forcing the court to issue a bench warrant for his immediate arrest. Harary finally paid a $27.50 fine for each house. o A year earlier, inspectors found 619 N. Fifth, around the block, was "unsafe for occupants" and ordered Harary to "vacate the dwelling at once." Among the problems: electrical fire hazards, plumbing health haz - ards, and rotting walls, ceilings and floors. The tenants had paid the Hararys $125 per month. * Harary had been renting a house for a time at 1024 Gott - when the February 1965 building and safety de- partment charged it had major viola- tions. The electricity was under code. The plumbing was under code. The railings, ceilings and stairways were under code. And instead of one fam- ily, two were living in the house in violation of the zoning ordinance. By April, Harary told the building and safety department that contrac- tors had been hired, and 'the work (was) to be done (as) soon as pos- sible." The city relaxed-and took no further action. But Harary had corrected no re- pairs by August-so the city issued a warrant on Aug. 10 and scheduled a trial on Sept. 15, The case never reached the courtroom. For according to the city attorney's files, 1024 had been "sold to a new party who is put- ting the premises in good repair." Harary had agreed to sell his house to Elsie Doggett, a w i d o w on sub- sistence income. He was selling the house on land contract-meaning In gradual payments. This way, he ap- parently had rid himself of responsi- bility for fixing the house, and was getting paid for it at the same time. In January 1967, however, an in- spector found most of the old viola tions still uncorrected - but with a subsistence income, Mrs. Doggett could scarcely afford to bring the house up to code. The city attorney intervened. Since Harary still held legal title to the house (Mrs. Doggett was still making payments) the attorney charged it was still his responsibility to fix the violations. His ultimatum: "either bring the house completely up to code immediately," or the city would take action in Circuit Court to de- molish it. No repairs were made, the house was not demolished, and Harary was not prosecuted. Instead, Mrs. Doggett and her tenants left, and Harary be- queathed ownership of the house, and all future responsibility for it, in a quitclaim deed to his brother, Ray- mond. Now the house is condemned and' boarded at the city's demand-and it remains Raymond Harary's financial burden. These examples do not comprise a complete account of Harary's build- ing violations-houses at 307 S. Divi- sion, 114 and 108 Third (there was a fire here), 705 N. Fourth, 907 Wildt have also emerged recently in city files with major violations. The city in fact has sent Harary about 30 dif- ferent letters and warnings so far to try to get them up to code. But it has not prosecuted Harary for any of them, nor has he paid any fines. Hararys allowed them to live in the houses until the city could find other homes. The house at 705 N. Fourth is such a case. "We just wanted these properties for the land value," claims Harary. "We wanted to move the tenants out." "But we don't want to see the ten- ants in the streets," adds Mrs. Harary. City Council talks a lot about ways to enforce the housing codes, but nothing much is ever done. It took Councilman LeRoy Cappaert (D-Fifth Ward) singlehandedly to spur the city into action on the 619 N. Fifth and 1024 Gott houses; .otherwise, they would not have been inspected or condemned. Cappaert was so angered by hous- ing conditions that he wrote Council: "Such -landlords risk the lives of ten- ants in order to make money; they re- quire of building inspectors, city at- torneys, administrative officials and many others hours and hours of cost- ly work with their delaying tactics." Meanwhile, the residents in the North Central area are unhappy with HararN's condemned houses, because they are ugly. "We want to know when the city is going to make Harary tear these eyesores down," says Rus- sell Howard of the Workable Program Committee (they have stood unin- habitated since October). "We asked one of the assistant city attorneys what was going on with the houses a few months ago, and he spoke for two hours- and told us ab- solutely nothing." Harary claims he tried to have the buildings wrecked as far back as Oc- tober-"but then the winter freeze set in, and no one could demolish them," he says. Frank and Jayne Harary are con- cerned with their public image. Resi- dents throughout the black ghetto distrust them, and officials in the city government condemn their rental property dealings as "slumlording." "Most people have a reputation to maintain," says Mrs. Harary, 'but we have a reputation to undo." The worst of it is, they say, they never would have bothered with real estate if they hadn't simply wanted to help the poor. "We've wanted to help poor blacks find better hous- ing," claims Mrs. Harary. "But we've taken the rap again and again. If we had known all this would happen, we would never have gotten into it." The Hararys have long been free to sell their property. That is what they promised' Councilman Cappaert two years ago-when iaccording to Cap- paert, Harary asked him to abstain from criticizing his property dealings in Council because he was planning to "go out of the business soon." But now, apparently, 'Harary Is serious about selling his property. "We would like to sell all our prop- erty in the North Central area as a unit, .to some reliable group who is stronger than we are, and who would like to do something good with it,' says Harary. Most important, says Harary, "Put this on the public record: We will sell the property below market price and without any money down." If Model Cities planners accept Harary's offer as he means it-as an open invitation for anyone to buy it -then the North Central area may finally rid itself of fear of exploita- tion by private interests, and at last regain control over its own com munity. THE FAULT for Ann Arbor's housing woes lies not so much with the landlords as with the city. For those landlords and others who evade laws out of signple neglect or for financial gain will always be in the community; but the structures which allow them to maintain poor housing conditions do not have to be. "For one segment of the Ann Arbor community (the city's) virtues seem a mockery," declares the administra- tion's application for a Model Cities grant. "The poor and disadvantaged see new housing cutting into the sky, but each month finds it more diffi- cult to locate safe, low-cost housing for themselves." Housing is in crisis all over the city, but the problems in the North Cen- tice that (your) property cannot pos- sibly be rented, that vandals are wrecking the building. Perhaps, be- fore it gets in worse shape, you would consider a sale." Then, Mr. J---- wrote Reinhart a letter, bluntly telling him he was not interested in doing business under any circumstances. This time, the pri- son warden approached him and urg- ed him to sell-on behalf of Reinhart. Reinhart recalls he sent the letters, and "may have called the warden"- but this was merely a "technique used to ascertain if there was communica- tion," he explains. Mrs. Edward Neff of 712 N. Main angrily remembers the pressure two realtors have exerted on her in the past two years-"One of them said 'We can have your place condemned if we want it bad enough," she recalls. But Mrs. Neff doesn't know who the realtors were-"they had no business cards and didn't give their names like reliable businessmen do-and I was too mad at them to find them out." All of this, says Reinhart, is unfor- tunate. "I think there are families who should be encouraged to move up into better housing," he says. "Some of them have made a mistake by stay- ing there." FEARS OF a property takeover had spread so fast, by February 1967 that the Human Relations Commis- sion distributed leaflets to every door warning "Your property is near the University and downtown, and is zon- ed for apartments-these things may increase the value of your property. DON'T SELL IT IN A HURRY. "Unless you really want to sell it," warned the pamphlet, "Keep it!" And block clubs sprang up. The North Central Neighborhood Organi- -Daily-Sara Krulwich sales, sometimes with offers of cash, sometimes with offers of property trades. In many instances they made return visits to encourage resistors to change their minds. "We didn't even intend to make a profit on the rents once we develop- ed apartments," claims Harary. "We did have in mind, though," he adds, "that by the year 2000 the investment might be a nice estate for our grand- children." His property could become a nice estate. Realtors estimate that once the city moves Lansky's junkyard and a few other sore spots, land values may triple from the current $1.25- $1.50 per square foot to $3.50 or more. Because the community is only three blocks from Ann Arbor's cen- tral business district, potentially it is an apartment developers dream. And.that is what puts the commun- ity in a bind. Residents would like to move the junkyard, possibly even ed, and few people are buying and selling. Ben Burkhart, local printer, and realtor William -Bush each own some properties, and contemplate us- ing them in the future (Bush says he wants to build offices) but otherwise, property activity is dead. Which is un- fortunate,, according to Reinhart. "The area has become stagnant," Reinhart says. "There is no real es- tate activity, and Harary isn't de-' veloping. I'm sorry, tdo - the area needs an inflow of xisk capital." Residents and community leaders agree-but they want an inflow of' capital under their control, not the control of - an outside businessman. The North Central Neighborhood Or- ganization has asked City Council to declare a moratorium on all building in the area until the Model Cities Planning Board gets into gear and starts assuming ' authority for the area's development. Council has not vet taken action.