News Hole

Mounted on the chain link fence are two signs: one promises construction of new two-, three- and four-family homes, just like the brick rowhouses that line the rest of the street.  Another sign warns trespassers that the area has been dosed with rat poison.

The poison sign is true.

The vacant lot at 156 Morton Place, in the Bronx neighborhood of University Heights, is being sold by its current owner, Kadima Builders, for $249,000.  They purchased it in 2006 for $190,000.  Included are plans similar to the rest of the homes on the block, which the company said have already been approved by the city.  The company gave no reason for its sale of the property before building the housing, saying only that the time was not right to build and that the land would be sold in its current condition.  ‘Kadima’ means ‘forward’ in Hebrew.

Space is a precious commodity in University Heights.  The overcrowding rate is 33.2% in Community District 5, which encompasses University Heights.  The census tract around the vacant lot at 156 Morton shows a rate of 34.1%.  In contrast, the overcrowding rate in Community District 4, just to the South, is 29.6%.  The overcrowding of occupied space is compounded by a lack of vacant space for developing.  Only 3.1% of the land in CD5 is vacant, compared to 5.7% in CD7 to the North.  Moreover, there is a need not only for housing but for services that require space, such as parks and parking lots.

“Land use is, along with crime, the biggest issue we as a community face,” said Xavier Rodriguez, the District Manager for Community Board 5, which oversees University Heights and three other neighborhoods.

Rodriguez said that the city could not afford to purchase long-vacant lots for development.

“They’re only interested in taking things over through eminent domain,” he said.  “So for anything to happen, it pretty much has to be through private development.”

Because the median household income is $20,159, the community is unable to purchase the lots for development itself.

In addition to potential developers, land has been purchased by some of the 45 non-profit centers for alcohol and substance abuse, mental health and other projects that operate in the district.

“We feel that we’re being oversaturated with supportive needs projects within our district,” Rodriguez said.

He said that, in addition to developing vacant land for halfway houses and shelters, the non-profits had purchased private parking lots, forcing locals to park on the streets and constraining the options for open space or housing further.

The Board and the community it represents were at odds recently over what can be done to improve the neighborhood, and who should do the improving.
Rodriguez and the Board have retained an outside consulting company, Insight Associates, to help compose a comprehensive plan for development.  Among the proposals was a Business Improvement District along Burnside Avenue and the removal of parking structures along Jerome Avenue below Tremont Avenue.  The area is currently a mix of automobile service shops and parking facilities, while the strip above Tremont has more restaurants, shops and delicatessens.

While many in attendance were enthusiastic about the plans, there was grumbling over misplaced priorities.

“There’s still so much crime right now, and you’re going to redo Burnside,” a woman asked the Board incredulously.

Deputy Inspector Kevin Harrington, who commands the New York Police Department’s 46th Precinct, which oversees the area, said that overcrowding, vacant houses and vacant lots all contributed to the problems that plague the neighborhood.

“Vacant lots, you get rats,” he said.  “Vacant houses, you get drugs.”

Inspector Harrington pointed out that the non-profit organizations’ increased presence was not a stain on the community.  They take over vacant lots and occupy vacant houses.

“They’re not negative neighbors,” he said.

Gloria, who lives in a massive apartment house on West Tremont Avenue that overlooks a vacant lot, and refused to give her last name because she was afraid that the government would take away her Section 8 benefits if she criticized it, said that the situation hadn’t changed in years and wouldn’t change anytime soon.

“Four years I been here, and they ain’t done shit,” she said, wiping away tears.  “I’m sorry, I’ve been drinking,” she continued, “but how long could it really take?  They wanted to, they would’ve done something by now.”