Posted on Sun, Jan. 04, 2004

Another side to boom in Camden
By Frank Kummer and Dwight Ott
Inquirer Staff Writers

Ivonne Martinez literally stands in the way of what many see as progress.

"I love progress and it is good," says Martinez, whose home near Camden's northeast corner is in the path of a $1.1 billion redevelopment project of 5,545 new housing units, an 18-hole golf course and driving range, a marina and shops.

"But," she adds, "not everyone wins with progress."

The 51-year-old administrative assistant is one of potentially hundreds whose homes may be torn down for a project proposed by Cherokee Investment Partners of Raleigh, N.C.

Cherokee's plans are part of a wave of new housing spreading into nearly every neighborhood in the city. Thousands of residents across Camden may be displaced in the next few years.

Camden - one of the nation's poorest cities, where three-quarters of the housing was built before World War II - faces its biggest home boom in decades.

More than 9,000 new housing units are being proposed or are in the pipeline throughout the city - equal to more than one-third of the city's current occupied units.

Unlike redevelopment in the past that gave rise to dreary public housing, Camden's new construction includes cheerful homes and apartments.

Some of the new building will be "affordable" housing aimed at current Camden residents and some is more expensive, with developers hoping that people will relocate into the city.

"This is the most significant and astounding interest the city has seen in mixed-income housing as long as I can remember," said Arijit De, executive director of the city's Redevelopment Agency, which is coordinating the bulk of the housing revitalization. "This surge of investment and potential growth in our residential population will pave the way for a renewed, vibrant and stable community."

The two largest projects, Cherokee, in the Cramer Hill neighborhood, and Roosevelt Manor, in the Centerville section in South Camden, would produce more than 6,200 units if approved. About 80 percent of the Cherokee development is apartments. And 3,000 more units are planned elsewhere in the city, but it's too early to tell whether all will materialize.

So far, some residents in those areas are wary, despite assurances that they will not be pushed out of the city.

And Martinez is one of them.

She makes $45,000 a year as a county employee and helps support seven people, including her stepmother and husband, who is disabled.

"We're losing churches, we're losing families... I'm starting to cry," she says. "My children were raised there."

She fears that her home, assessed at $28,800 will be razed, leaving her without enough compensation to find comparable, affordable housing.

She believes that her house is worth at least $60,000. But she also owes about $25,000 in back payments, interest and penalties after protesting Camden County Municipal Utilities Authority rates years ago. So Martinez might receive little equity if her home is demolished.

In her neighborhood, officials hope they can duplicate another successful large development, Baldwin's Run. Families began moving into the development of 500 homes less than a year ago; it's now half complete.

Nellie Lugo, 63, last week stood on the porch of her modern home on a clean, winding street in Baldwin's Run that could have been in the middle of a South Jersey suburban community. Lugo didn't move far: The development replaced the notorious drug-infested Westfield Acres housing project where she once lived.

"It's quiet, and the people are different," Lugo says of the contrast to Westfield Acres, which made news in the 1990s when drug dealers participated in a marathon, hour-long shoot-out.

"Boring" it is, she says, and boring is the environment she prizes for her husband and four children. The almost-suburban lifestyle costs $138 a month in rent, with an option to buy the property from its builder, St. Joseph's Carpenter Society.

Yet, such large-scale redevelopment can mean painful uprooting for some residents. Officials and developers will have to deal with that kind of tension over the next few decades as the city tries to remake itself.

In fact, projects in the pipeline raise a host of questions for the city, such as what will happen to those living in the way, who will live in the new housing, and whether the schools will be able to handle an influx of students.

Many also worry about the building spree's impact on the cultural foundations in some neighborhoods. And Cherokee - the largest project - is emblematic of that.

Unlike Baldwin's Run, it will replace far more than crime-ridden housing projects. Rather, it would be built around Cramer Hill, a long-standing neighborhood where many residents already own their homes.

Some fear that the very people the city's renaissance is supposed to help will be pushed out.

Jose Santiago, a resident and retired city worker, said Latinos in Cramer Hill carved out a thriving barrio of homes, shops and churches from a destitute neighborhood - all without government help.

Santiago believes that Latinos will be priced out of the newly built homes, changing the ethnic makeup of his neighborhood.

"I moved to Cramer Hill 20 years ago. It was all Anglos and it was a dead area. It had one store and pizza place," he says.

Now Latinos make up 70 percent of Cramer Hill, where community leaders plan to announce their strategy this week to deal with Cherokee.

Some residents fear that the truly poor, particularly those in Ablett Village, a section of apartments, will be forced out with no place to move. Many depend on federal Section 8 subsidies. Ablett Village would be razed under Cherokee's existing conceptual plan and replaced with apartments and townhouses.

City Council President Angel Fuentes said 700 families would be displaced in Ablett Village and Centennial Village, another apartment complex. Fuentes said his goal as a representative of this community would be to make sure that the residents get equal or superior housing.

Melvin R. "Randy" Primas Jr. acknowledges that dislocation is a primary concern. Primas, the city's state-appointed chief operating officer and a former Camden mayor, said public meetings would be held to address the issues.

The Cherokee plan will be shaped by input from the community, he explained, and can't proceed without approval from City Council, the Planning Board and the Redevelopment Agency.

"This is not anything against the Latino community. We believe a rising tide raises all boats... . People in Cramer Hill have been saying they were left out in the past and now when a major developer comes to Cramer Hill you say: 'They're picking on us.' You can't have it both ways," Primas says.

Displacement is a reality in redevelopment, he says, and "how you deal with those [displaced] people is key."

Along the River Road business district in Cramer Hill, Salim Santana was busy butchering a 90-pound pig last Tuesday to be spiced and baked for a customer for New Year's Eve. Santana started the business six years ago, and now draws customers from as far away as Delaware for his pan de agua, similar in taste and texture to French bread.

But Santana looks to locals.

He fears that new development will alter the character of the neighborhood, making his ethnic specialties less sought after.

"If my customer base moves out, where will I get my revenue?" he asks. "I have five employees. What will happen to them?"