I used to be wealthy. I had a big house. But I got divorced and became a single mom.  

My daughters are very smart, and they finished high school early. I was excited because I saved $300 for college books. But I didn’t realize how expensive books were. Two cost $681, and I didn't have the money.   

I will never forget my daughter crying, “But Mommy, you never say ‘no.’”  

I just couldn't support a big house as a single mom, so I moved to a little apartment. There were so many charges–parking, trash, sewer–that I decided the apartment wasn’t going to work either.  A woman wanted to get rid of her mobile home (in Denver Meadows Mobile and RV Park in Aurora, Colorado) and sold it to me (in 2013) for $10,000 in payments of $500 a month. The land rent was $600; $1,100 for both, including the water and the sewer.  

I was like, “I can do it; I can pay for college.” 

But I didn't know that the house was in really bad condition. There was an infestation of roaches and nothing worked. If I used the blender, I had to disconnect the refrigerator. Same if I blow dried my hair. 

Slowly I fixed everything.  I felt peaceful knowing I could cover college for my two girls. 

A year and a half after I moved into the mobile home, I found out our landlord was submitting a request for rezoning to commercial. At that time, the residents didn't know what that meant, so we began educating ourselves. 

I remember very clearly when we realized we were going to lose our homes. 

I became increasingly involved because most residents were Hispanic–some undocumented–and most didn't speak English. I was able to communicate with them. We had many issues with the landlord taking advantage of people in the community, so we notified  (a nonprofit that helped organize residents to fight the eviction). 9to5 let us know what we needed to do. We wrote more than 60 letters to city councilors, and in that first hearing for rezoning, more than 200 people showed up. At the hearing, the city councilors asked the landlord to bring a relocation plan for us.  After many attempts the landlord said, “The only thing you can get from me is a recommendation to move your homes."

That’s when I became the community leader. After we formed the HOA, we had more people power. I was nominated president. Over time, we were making so much noise that we had the media behind us: Telemundo, Denver Post, Univision, Fox31, Denver7 News.  

It wasn't difficult to get others involved for one reason: Everybody–130 families–were losing their homes.  We didn't have any other option but to fight. 

There was history in that park. People who had lived there for 25 years. Some residents got married while living there, and now they’re grandparents. A lot of single moms, elder people, adults and kids with disabilities. People with medical needs and low-income families.  

But it was difficult to coordinate meetings because most people had two jobs, maybe more. So, we had to use our creativity. We formed a committee to knock on doors and inform the residents what happened during the meetings. 

We made an offer to the landlord (*) for $20.5 million, but he said, “No.”  (The landlord's asking price was $35 million.) Then there weren’t any laws to protect mobile home owners. We knew that time was our worst enemy and that sooner or later we'd have to leave. Some residents had already left. 

Then the landlord expressed to us that in his “generosity,” he would leave the park open another two years. We found out later that he owned a lot of the homes. He left the park open because he wanted to collect the money. Most residents made their last payments in May. In June they closed the park, so those families only had one month of home ownership. At that time Colorado didn't have any laws to bring transparency to the process. 

A lot of the residents left their homes behind. Their houses were very old, and they couldn’t move them.  My home could be moved, and I sold it for $9,000–$1,000 less from when I purchased it, and I used the money for a downpayment for an apartment.  I didn't have other options because it would cost around $23,000 to move my house.  Like me, most people were thinking, "better to get a couple thousand than to get nothing" because they didn't have $25,000 to move their homes. 

I live in a house now.  But I continue to work in mobile home communities because of what happened to me and my neighbors. I am still in contact with some of them, and they still struggle to find affordable housing.  Mobile homes are one of the biggest options for affordable houses and, as we know, mobile homes are not portable.

My role now is to help underrepresented voices be heard and to inform, educate and empower park residents through trainings with the organization 9to5. I also offer 45-minute workshops every week with community leaders, and we discuss the subjects they want to address, for example, snow removal or park infrastructure. 

During the pandemic people have helped each other. I want to build on that momentum–so that diverse cultures continue to work together. 

*Denver Meadows residents tried to buy the park property themselves and become a resident-owned community (ROC) . Thistle is a private, nonprofit organization that develops and manages affordable housing options in �鶹ӰԺ County.

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In 2005 a trailer slated for the dump was transported to Mapleton Mobile Home Park and renovated there. After completion in 2008, the remodeled �鶹ӰԺ home went on sale for $40,000 in an area where the median sale price of homes now tops $1.5 million.

The 570-square-foot home features solid oak hardwood floors, high ceilings that run from 9 to 11 feet, a clerestory (a high section of wall that contains windows above eye level to admit light, while maintaining privacy) and a front porch.

"I saw the potential right away," said Tom Sundro Lewis, a professional photographer and former licensed contractor who purchased the home in 2008. "I really felt like the place was made for me. I still feel that way."

CU �鶹ӰԺ and its partners pursued the "TrailerWrap" (TW) remodeling project as an experiment in rehabilitating a deteriorating manufactured home (MH), with the idea that such renovations could be replicated by others. Since the 1950s, manufactured homes (previously called mobile homes) have been mass produced to provide low-cost housing; however unimaginative design combined with inefficient energy strategies and poor construction techniques made these homes difficult to maintain, often leading to disrepair and abandonment.

The TW remodeling project was a collaboration between Thistle Community Housing; tradesmen from CU �鶹ӰԺ’s Department of Facilities Management; an interdisciplinary team of faculty and students from the university’s College of Architecture and Planning; and the Children, Youth and Environments Center (now the Community Engagement, Design and Research Center (CEDaR), which originated the idea for the TW project.  

Obstacles and challenges
Willem van Vliet, CEDaR fellow and professor emeritus in CU �鶹ӰԺ’s Program in Environmental Design (ENVD), initiated the project with Michael Hughes, then an ENVD instructor. Van Vliet wrote grant applications and coordinated between college administrators, teaching faculty and the Mapleton Home Owner’s Association. 

Van Vliet noted that there were many challenges  during construction. Students had difficulties getting academic credit for their work; obtaining grants to fund the project presented continual challenges; continuity lacked with three different instructors leading the project over the course of the renovations; and a series of unforeseen events caused set backs, including a sewer line that backed up in the unit, necessitating replacement of many installed components, and a heavy branch which fell on and destroyed the roof after the unit was nearly completed.

But he also noted that there were many successes around creating the affordable and award-winning home. More than 50 students gained a valuable learning experience; ENVD gained positive publicity; and the project held lessons for future project-based learning, including an upcoming CEDaR-led manufactured home renovation.

Portions of the home were purposely not completed to allow the buyer to personalize it. Lewis estimates he put more than $100,000 into the home, including the unit's initial cost, his own labor, the impact-resistant roof he installed, and various upgrades, including the furnace and other appliances. 

While Lewis says the unit in its current state of remodel would not be affordable for low-income residents, the home worked for him because he could perform his own renovations.

"I didn’t want to rent a tiny postage stamp of an apartment," Lewis said. "I could have bought a condo, but it would have taken every penny I had. And I could have moved out of town."

A quality home
Lewis says he "loves" the layout, kitchen, high ceiling, hardwood floors and the front porch, which in the summer, functions like a room because of its two walls.  He also loves the living room, which also serves as his dining room and office as well as his photography, yoga and dance studio. 

"I get lots of compliments about the interior," Lewis said. "Four out of every five people who come here for the first time exclaim, 'Wow! This place doesn’t feel small at all.' And it doesn’t because of the high ceiling. If you imagine an 8-foot ceiling, like old trailers, it’s just a completely different experience, a completely different space.

"I really mean it when I tell you this place is perfect for me. I love it that it is not any bigger. Because being as small as it is, it makes it much more economical to heat in the winter. It’s easier to clean. And I live right in the middle of �鶹ӰԺ. I can walk to Whole Foods. I can walk downtown. I can walk to McGuckins (hardware store). And I pay like a third of the going cost to rent or buy a place like mine."

CEDaR plans to begin its second rmanufactured home remodel project this fall, also within Mapleton Mobile Home Park. The start date will depend on the state of the pandemic.

Understand that land rents in privately-owned parks can increase annually as much as $40 per month or more. 

Before purchasing a home, ask residents about their relationship with their park's owner. Some owners can be difficult to work with.

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In 2015, Matt Jensen witnessed two long-time Vista Village residents lose their homes. Jensen's two elderly neighbors could no longer care for themselves and had planned to sell their homes to cover living in an assisted-living facility, he says.

Instead, the manufactured home park's owner found a loophole in the US Department of Housing and Urban Development's (HUD) housing laws, allowing the corporation to forbid sales of Vista Village's pre-1976 manufactured homes and to require residents of those older homes to pay to remove their units. As in most manufactured home parks, Vista Village residents own their homes, but rent the land beneath them, and employees of the park's ownership manage the land. Although the two residents' homes were older, Jensen says they had been remodeled and maintained, and had passed housing inspections. 

Refusing to let the homeowners sell their homes was a movement towards gentrifying the park, Jensen says.

"Those homes were the senior's biggest assets," he says. "I witnessed elderly women who became homeless because of this. I don’t know what became of them.  That was beyond the pale for me."

Soon after, one of the park's residents formed a residents' group. A year later, the organization transitioned to a nonprofit association registered with the state of Colorado, now called the Vista Village Community Association. Jensen has been a member of the association's board of directors for five years, including three of those years as president.   

He has lived in Vista Village since 2003, choosing the manufactured home park because of its affordability.

"�鶹ӰԺ was, and still is, very expensive, and I wanted to stay in �鶹ӰԺ, " says Jensen.  "Vista Village is a really nice place, surrounded by parks, which is a wonderful thing." 

What do you feel are the most pressing issues for residents?
The residents have issues with the management around park upkeep, such as tree branches hanging over their homes, where high winds and heavy snow could break the branches and damage those homes, and sewers not being maintained and backing up into homes. There also has not been much transparency on how utilities, like water, are being billed. The park's streets are in OK condition, but they used to pave the streets every five to six years.  It's now been seven years since they paved them.

The other issue is the skyrocketing rent. Sometimes the annual rent increases are manageable; sometimes they are much higher. When the cost of living goes up, people get displaced. With the pandemic, rising rents are certainly something we are keeping an eye on because even though there's a moratorium on evictions, people are still struggling. Rent stabilization is one of my personal core missions. I really, really wish we could make more headway on rent stabilization so rent is not continually rising. It makes it increasingly difficult for residents of modest means. 

The only two solutions that I can see is that something needs to be done to control the housing costs or people need to make more money so they can afford it. 

I try to keep the viewpoint that the owners have plenty of overhead expenses, but there is not much transparency. The owners are not willing to talk to us.

What are some of the accomplishments of the association?
Our association's mission is to "unite the community through social connections, mutual support, education and advocacy for our homeowners' rights."  

A big part of what we do is organize events to bring the community together, like barbecues and pancake breakfasts. 

But sometimes people have issues with the owners and management, and we’ll advocate to the best of our abilities for the homeowners' rights. I view the association as trying to work with ownership and management. As well as working on conflict, we also work on trying to work together. 

A lot of our accomplishments can be found in the ordinances of the city of �鶹ӰԺ's Manufactured Housing Strategy, which is something we helped put in place. I feel really good about the progress we made with the city and state. �鶹ӰԺ's city council has been very supportive of us and acts as a mediator between the residents and park management. The council passed at least three ordinances in the last three to four years that are helpful to residents. We're working on the latest ordinance, which involves city laws in regards to home sales. 

During the 1980's the "Mobile Home Parks Act," was the sole state law for manufactured home parks. Before we started organizing, manufactured housing rights were very weak, and there were little protections for manufactured home owners.  A lot of the residents are low income. They can’t afford lawyers. They don’t have a way to represent themselves. A lot of these people are not English speakers. The new state law was a big accomplishment for us because there is now a way to file complaints with the state to help resolve disputes between park owners and residents. There is also a new department that specifically deals with manufactured housing on the state level.

What are some tips for residents who want to form a manufactured home association?
It starts with neighbors talking to neighbors and having those "over-the-fence" types of conversations, then finding a common purpose and cause.

Also work with your city council and let them know what your association is working on and the issues it's dealing with. Then see what your elected representatives can do to represent your residents. 

Do you have any insights for people who want to step into a more formal leadership role? 
You can't always help, but when you can help, it’s a wonderful thing. When residents feel like we have helped them, that really gets them involved. They end up participating in meetings and contacting us more often. It goes from there. 

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Meet Isabel Sanchez, housing activist

Grassroots community organizer and urban farmer Isabel Sanchez transformed Mapleton Mobile Home Park in �鶹ӰԺ to a community that follows sustainable principles and practices. Under her guidance as a board member of the park's Home Owners Association (HOA) for 11 years, including president of the board for four of them, Mapleton's regulations now allow families to raise chickens, rabbits and bees. Today there are more than 45 organic gardens in the park, as well as five households raising chickens, three raising rabbits and five beekeepers.  And all of the projects have helped build a more connected and stronger community, she says.

Sanchez is a permaculturist, locally known as the "Guru of Permaculture." For seven years she was the program director for the Denver nonprofit, The GrowHaus, where she taught permaculture and created curriculums for children to learn how to grow food, raise chickens and choose healthy lifestyles.  She recently started a new business, , which offers classes and workshops for backyard garden design and permaculture.

(Note: Unlike most mobile home communities in �鶹ӰԺ which are owned by private corporations, Thistle Communities, a nonprofit, owns the land beneath Mapleton Mobile Home Park.)

Describe your path to becoming a housing activist. 

I was born in 1962 in communist Cuba. My family witnessed first hand what happened after the revolution in Cuba and worked tirelessly to get my sister and me out of the country.

I immigrated to the US when I was 5, and I was raised in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. I grew up listening to my parents and other Cuban families talk about communism and the losses they suffered.  I learned that because my parents had refused to be a part of the communist party, their food rations were taken away, and they were forced to accept food from relatives and neighbors until we were able to flee the country.

Food scarcity is something that was a huge part of my developmental years, and I believe it's why I’ve dedicated so much of my life to preventing this kind of injustice in all the communities I’ve lived and worked in. And I learned very early on that we, as a people, need a voice. 

I started gardening with The Green Thumb Organization when I was 18 and pregnant with my first son. My love for having the power to grow my own food and the connection with the soil grew from there. It was one of the most empowering experiences in my life up until that point. It made a lasting impression.

In the late 1980s with a 6-year-old son and 3-year-old daughter, I moved to the East Village where we squatted in an abandoned building in Alphabet city. I would approach the city, saying, "There are 10 families fixing abandoned buildings using their own resources, so sell the buildings to us."  We were able to buy some, and we later added greenhouses and chickens on the roof tops. It was here where my advocacy in housing issues was born. Many meetings were held in the building where I lived with my family, and the community made important decisions on how we could support the homeless and unjust policy changes that were occurring in New York City. In 1988, NYC passed a law that homeless people could no longer reside in the parks. This brought on riots and protests from the community to recognize that the civil rights of the homeless, the poor, the mentally ill and the addicts were being violated. As a result of the protests, some buildings that were squatted in became legal residences for those people in need. That experience showed me that when that when people are empowered to use their voice, real change can happen.

A huge thing I learned from my NYC experience was about food deserts. If you don’t have housing, you probably can’t afford healthy food. You buy fast food–cheap food that will only get you sick.

I was involved with that for 10 years, and then I got really burnt out. Some people had mental illness, and some people had addictions, so I needed a break.  

By that time I was the mother of four children, and I wanted to teach them to live off the land. We moved to Northeast Pennsylvania where we purchased a house built in the 1800’s on seven acres. I would spend the next 10 years learning about animal husbandry and farming, and my passion for living off the land was solidified. I would go on to have two more children while living here. I have many fond memories of seeing my little ones run around naked in the yard with the chickens, bunnies, goats, and pigs while my older city kids adjusted awkwardly to farm life, learning how to milk goats and to deliver animal babies.

Why did you decide to live in a mobile home community? 

One of my children had graduated from Naropa, and the other was graduating that year. I moved to �鶹ӰԺ because they were here, and I wanted them to be role models for the younger kids. I have eight kids ages 13, 14, 17, 21, 24, 30, 35 and 40. All my children live in the park. My 18-year-old and her 24-year-old brother live next door. My 30-year-old daughter and my son who is 40 live on the other side of the park. And my five grandchildren live here too.

At Mapleton I started with an an open-market rate for my lot rental, which is still much more affordable than purchasing a condo or home in �鶹ӰԺ, and I am now on a low-tier rate (affordable housing). I had brought my greenhouse on top of my van and knew that I would need space to raise chickens and grow food. If I had rented an apartment, I would not have been able to do that. 

Now, I really love living here. I am involved in the community and with policy making. It’s not just for me, it’s for my kids, and my grandkids who live here too. I want Mapleton to be a really wonderful place for my family to live.  

What inspired you to transform Mapleton to a park with sustainable practices?

When I first arrived I realized an equity needed to be established at Mapleton with food because even though we are not in a food desert–we are located near Sprouts, Vitamin Cottage and Whole Foods–many residents can't afford to shop at those stores. I realized that I could instead teach the residents to grow organic food.  So the minute I moved to Mapleton, I converted my lot to a full-functioning garden. People were amazed at how fast I did it. I started sheet mulching, collecting leaves and finding people who raised organically-fed goats and rabbits. I went to the farmers market and networked. The second year I put up my  greenhouse, and that was my donation to the community.  I grew about 5,000 plants and gave them to the families.

Many residents now have gardens, and having gardens helped to build community.  The gardens gave residents a feeling of purpose. People who were struggling alone, including seniors who didn’t have family nearby, would gather together.  The seniors who can't partake in growing do projects with the kids while their parents garden. We fair share what we grow. All these things build community.

At first many were against bringing chickens into Mapleton because they thought the chickens would attract wild animals and decrease property values. We brought in cooperative extention staff to talk to residents, so by the time it went to a vote, the residents were ready to take on a two-year project which allowed eight chickens per property. The program was strict. The chickens needed to have shelter, and the chicken area had to be placed in a particular spot on the property.  Homes are only about 10 to 12 feet apart, so neighbors were required to sign that they would accept chickens in adjacent yards. In the beginning only 10 residents were allowed into the program, and there were a lot of meetings. Now if anyone wants to have chickens, they can, but they still sign an agreement with their neighbors and also sign that someone can inspect the animals. The program has been going on nine years, and it’s been wonderful. I always joke and say goats are next, but I don’t have the energy. 

I think we are the only mobile home park in the city of �鶹ӰԺ that has these kind of projects. We showed that even in small spaces, there are endless possibilities to grow your own food. 

What are some of the other community projects at Mapleton?

We started working with CU �鶹ӰԺ's sustainability department, which works with FLOWS (Foundation for Leaders Organizing for Water and Sustainability) about water conservation. We work with them to capture water from the gutters for xeriscape gardening. FLOWS checked the water pressure within homes and tested whether there were leaks in the lines. We also work with Growing Gardens, which reconnects people with their local food systems and teaching gardening, cooking and nutrition education. We pick seedlings so families can plant. We have parties with music to swap seeds. We received another grant from the city to buy art supplies so people can gather and do different projects.

Students from CU �鶹ӰԺ and elementary schools as well as permaculture groups visit Mapleton. We do workshops, and the students also help senior community members with projects. One project was building a bench with a roof. The bench sits there so beautifully; there was no shade there before.

Many manufactured housing parks have old infrastructures. How are you addressing that?

We have an amazing board. We changed our rules, regulations and bylaws, which is a huge undertaking. We changed property managers. 

We are now updating water pipes, which will cost $2 million. Our infrastructure was very old and the water tasted bad.  After surveying residents living on the north side of the park, we showed the city why the residents weren’t drinking the water.  We then received a grant from the city of �鶹ӰԺ's sugar tax for $675,000 to work on the north side (the south side had been completed). Because we are very stable financially as a nonprofit, we were able to get a very low interest rate from the bank and a few grants, so we’re in very good shape.

Was Mapleton affected by the 2013 flood?

I first bought a tiny home, 10 x 55, and five of my kids lived there. The greenhouse was our living room. The door never closed; the outside and inside were one. 

And then the flood came. Mapleton Mobile Home Park was hit hard because many homes were older. My little home was 65 years old. When �鶹ӰԺ Creek started clogging with trees, water ditches started overflowing and water came through my backyard. It looked like Niagara Falls. The water entered my home through the ground because the soil couldn't absorb the amount of water. My husband works for CU �鶹ӰԺ, so he was gone with the emergency at CU. I was here with the kids and dogs. It was so bad, that by the next morning when I came back, the mattresses were soaked, and a tree had fallen on the greenhouse. I wasn’t the only one–32 homes got hit hard. After the flood, the city did a program to help mobile homeowners affected by the flood, because a lot of people continued living in their homes that had flooded. We fixed ours, but we were living in it while we were fixing it, which was challenging with the kids and animals.

Mapleton received 32 new homes through FEMA. It was a challenge because the original homes were small, and the replacements were big. I ended up staying with my kids in a hotel for eight months until our new home was put in.

I documented the entire process, and I show this as a case study when I teach permaculture. When the flood hit my home, I was flourishing. I had fruit trees, the kids had a tree house above a shed. It was all on the principles of permaculture in a small space, creating as many yields as possible. After the flood, I took everything out. I moved trees. My soil is gold, so I took the soil from the raised beds. Different people would come and help. Our new home arrived in February, and by August I had a full harvest. I put the raised beds in, built a chicken coop and redesigned the whole lot. Not that I enjoyed everything. I thought I was going to lose my mind because I was working full time commuting to Denver, and I had the kids and my dogs in a hotel, and I had to come back to Mapleton to feed the chickens. It was not a ride in the park. Some people were struggling with their applications, and they felt like they couldn’t do it, and I was encouraging them. Everyone would help each other when it was time for someone to move. People had been living here 30 years and had stuff under their trailers. It was not easy. But now we are so grateful that FEMA funding was available. Some of these families would not have ever been able to afford a home.  We all pulled together, and we were able to do this for each other. 

What are some of the benefits of living in a mobile home community?

When 9-11 hit, we were in Pennsylvania about two hours from NYC, I had seven acres, and my taxes were around $400 a year. After Sept. 11, my property taxes went up to $2,700 in one year because so many people were trying to move to our area after the terrorist event. It made me realize that when I became older, I would probably not be able to afford to live there.

Today I have a three-year-old home. My property taxes are approximately $400, but compared to �鶹ӰԺ homes–and my kids are in the same school district as those who own homes–I don’t pay hardly anything. People are realizing mobile home parks are an affordable way to live.  It’s much more sustainable because you are not heating big homes. Maintenance is a lot less than a big home. So more people are being sold to the idea of living in mobile home parks. A lot of the mobile home parks that are near water now cost around $200,000 for a property. Even $200,000 is nothing compared to the real-estate market of a home in �鶹ӰԺ or Florida. 

How many hours a week do you work as an HOA leader?  

I work approximately 12 hours each week, and that’s when everything is pretty smooth.  The management committee chair always calls me if something needs resolution because I have been on the board so long. We do board meetings once a month, but when I was the chair, it was two meetings a month. And then the quarterly resident meetings, the emails, the newsletters, the tree projects and now we’re doing the infrastructure for the water, which is enormous. The construction crew is tearing up the streets, so we arranged the parking for families. At some point during construction there’s going to be no electric or water, and we’re organizing that. 

Why are HOAs important for mobile home parks? 

HOAs are important because they give residents a voice, and knowledge gets shared. Our board puts out a monthly newspaper and organizes quarterly meetings where the community comes together. And if there's anything big to vote on, we start preparing residents before the meetings so their voices are heard. This model works because we are working with a nonprofit (Thistle Communities). Private park owners can raise your rent $100 to $150 a month if they don’t like you. They can add a million rules. People who have been living in mobile home parks have become a portfolio of income for private owners. These private owners want all the old folks to leave and to bring in new people. Then the rents are raised to $800 and $900, they charge you for the water bill, and before know it, you are paying in a mobile home park what you would pay for a �鶹ӰԺ apartment. People are still attracted to mobile home parks because they can have a backyard to garden, whereas most �鶹ӰԺ apartments don’t have that. At a mobile home park, you have two parking spaces in front of your home.  Not everyone has parking in �鶹ӰԺ.

Locally groups have formed to introduce legislation so that private owners can't just come in and do whatever they want to mobile home residents

What has the Mapleton HOA been able to achieve? What are you most proud of? Has this been a rewarding experience? 

I am most proud of the community building–to see everyone care for each other.  If someone we know is sick, we bring meals. We have funding from the city and private people have donated into a fund so if someone is struggling, or if during COVID someone can't afford the rent, we help them. We also have a city liason who brings information about resources to the community.

The woman on the other side of my property's home burned down. We were able to ask an owner who hadn't moved in yet if she could live there when he wasn't there, and she lived there for four months. He didn’t even charge her rent because he was paying anyway, and she needed a place.

The other four members on the board are dedicated. It doesn’t matter how many hours, if something comes up, we get together. There was a resident with the coronavirus who needed financial support. Everyone chipped in, and he’s getting food and financial resources now. He probably would have died because he had no energy, and there was no food in the house.

Living in a manufactured home community is not perfect because we live in such close quarters. There are seniors who are bothered by noise. In a few situations people have mental illnesses, and if they don’t take their meds, it gets pretty bad. There are residents who have very low incomes. Sometimes they can’t pay the electric bill or this or that, and because of the mental illness they don’t have capacity to seek help. There's a lot of trust with the board and the management committee, and if we know there’s a need, they can count on us. That feels really good.

On the part of sustainability, it just makes me happy that I show groups so many gardens. We have a senior, he’s in an old senior home now, but when I would bring groups, he would come out with the teens and he would show them how to make kale chips, and he would sun dry them. There was enormous amount of connection and respect, and the kids would come back and say, "Could we go back to Gene’s house?"  

We also work with the �鶹ӰԺ courts, and people who get credit for community service do work in our seniors' yards.  Maybe the workers are having a hard time, but they come here and see that we have this little village. We get pizza for them when they work here, and somebody makes cupcakes. 

We rent dumpsters for cleanout days because some people don’t have the wheels or money to bring their larger items to the dump.  We have money that comes from the residents' rent, and we decided that we are doing this service because it beautifies the park.

What advice would you give to mobile homeowners who are thinking about starting an HOA? 

I would say they should look at other mobile home communities that have started HOAs.  Do the research, get involved, attend board meetings of other communities, look at their newspapers and the kind of information they want their residents to have. The main thing is to decide on the new HOA's goals. Do they want a community that is just affordable? Or do they want a community that’s more engaged?

How has the pandemic affected Mapleton residents? 

Many residents have lost jobs.  If someone is struggling, we recommend them to the our city liaison, and she will connect them to resources. We work with �鶹ӰԺ Food Rescue. So twice to three times each week food is delivered here, and volunteers from our community set the food out, and families get the food. Some families don’t want to go there because they are embarrassed, so someone will take a few bags of food to them.  

Do Mapleton residents want to purchase the park?

At Mapleton, residents own their homes, but they don’t own the land beneath them. A nonprofit, Thistle Communities, owns the land, and we have a 100-year lease.  Mapleton's board runs the finances, insurance, rules and regulations and the leases.  Prospective resident applications are handled by Thistle, which determines, based on income, which tier (affordable housing or market rate) applicants qualify for.

Our goal is to become land owners and form some sort of a cooperative.  We have attended meetings with the nonprofit ROC (Resident Owned Communitites), which helps create cooperatives with mobile home parks so residents can own the land.  Other organizations are working on affordable housing with mobile homes. In the last few years, acquiring mobile home parks have become huge money makers, so a lot of people are buying these mobile home parks, increasing the rent, and also making them very strict cookie-cutter patterns. The homes have to be younger than a certain year, and if the year of the mobile home is much older, then it has to be removed. Mobile home parks used to be the most affordable way for low-income families to be able to afford a home, but it’s changed.

How much longer do you plan to live at Mapleton?

My eight children live at Mapleton, and my three youngest still live with me. I have five grandchildren here too. I probably will continue to live here after my retirement. I am very happy here.

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Peggy Kuhn stands in her backyard at Sans Souci Mobile Home Park, located in unincorporated �鶹ӰԺ County, Colorado.

Peggy Kuhn became an activist the day two of her neighbors were threatened with eviction.  After an August 2018 purchase of the Sans Souci Mobile Home Park by a large corporation, Kuhn's two neighbors were given four days to clean their decks, paint the exterior of their homes, remove weeds, prepare soil and install grass in their yards.  One of the residents utilized oxygen for heart issues and had lived in the park 42 years; the other, who had lived at Sans Souci more than 50 years, had retired early due to health problems.

"You could see the stress in the residents' faces," said Kuhn, 67, a former program analyst who was laid off during the pandemic.  "It hurt to see seniors verbally threatened and be stressed out that they were going to lose their homes–when their homes were probably the only thing of value in their lives."

Kuhn formed a neighborhood group of volunteers to help the neighbor who would accept help. The group painted his home, pulled weeds and installed sod in his yard, but the homeowner, who is on a fixed income, was not reimbursed for materials. 

Another pathway to eviction
Immediately prior to the sale of Sans Souci, lot rents were raised 6 percent, whereas for decades the increase had been 2 to 3 percent per year. Since then the new owners have implemented a 12 percent annual lot rental increase. Residents on fixed incomes are struggling to pay their lot rents, Kuhn said.

Kuhn said the new owners' "welcome pack" included 12 pages of rules, including requiring residents to plant lush lawns and only painting homes with approved colors. The rules included a 9 p.m. park curfew. Workers could enter private yards at any time and charge residents for the work. The rules also stated that anyone breaking more than two rules would be evicted.

Although the residents were outraged, those wanting to leave could not afford the roughly $20,000 it would cost to move their homes.

"Immediately eviction became a huge fear in the park," said Kuhn, who began a path of advocacy that included helping to start an HOA.

Kuhn and other HOA resident members and board members met with city and county officials and legal advocates. The residents learned it was common for corporate-owned park management companies to treat residents poorly, Kuhn said. Individual residents were encouraged to work with �鶹ӰԺ County Legal Aid and attend a "Know your Rights" workshop organized by a group of attorneys and county officials. Because of the HOA members' advocacy, �鶹ӰԺ County Commissioners sent a warning to the mobile home park's management company, which resulted in a few rules lifted, including the curfew. The other senior threatened with eviction had become active in the HOA group; she was not evicted. 

• Take the time to get to know your neighbors.
• Realize that some neighbors who need help, especially seniors or those with disabilities or mental illnesses, might not reach out. They may be feeling overwhelmed or in denial.
• Ask your neighbors specific questions about where they are in the eviction process. 
• Offer to become a third-party witness to assist in explaining lengthy legal documents and their ramifications. Helping neighbors before the eviction has progressed to the courts may result in an agreement being reached between the resident and landlord instead of eviction. 

"All the other park residents talked about the same things happening," Kuhn said. "Vulnerable people were being taken advantage of and threatened with eviction. The owners would evict the older residents, get rid of their homes and then would put in a new mobile home and rent it. My heart just went out to these people who lost their homes." 

Interested in expanding her efforts for better protections for park residents, Kuhn joined the Colorado Coalition of Manufactured Home Owners (CoCoMHO) as it was forming.  CoCoMHO's statewide organization helps mobile home residents understand their rights and helped pass several bills that focus on the rights of Colorado's mobile home park residents. She has since stepped down from the organization for health and personal issues.

Kuhn worries about her own future in Sans Souci. She purchased her 1996 manufactured home 14 years ago with the idea that living at the mobile home park would be affordable throughout her future retirement.

"But at 12 percent a year rent raises compounded, I won't be able to afford that as a senior with a fixed income," Kuhn said.  "I don't know what I will do. I will probably move somewhere cheaper."

Kuhn is one of the "lucky" ones. Those owning homes manufactured before 1976 cannot sell them due to regulations by the State of Colorado's Division of Housing’s Building Codes & Standards. Still, she would rather stay in her home than move.

"I would lose the community and the friendships," Kuhn said.

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Photo by Susan Glairon

For nearly two decades Michael Peirce worked as an adjunct philosophy professor for CU �鶹ӰԺ. Drawing a modest salary and unable to afford a home within �鶹ӰԺ County, Peirce and his partner purchased a 1957 mobile home in the Sans Souci Mobile Home Park in the late 1990s, then paying roughly $800 in mortgage payments and roughly $250 for the lot rental each month. At the time most of Sans Souci's residents fell in the 20 to 50-year-old age range, and many graduate students, teachers and adjunct faculty lived there. 

"Quite a few of the residents thought Sans Souci was an ideal situation, especially the musicians and artists, who found it difficult to make a living off their trades," Peirce says.

In August 2018 a large corporation purchased Sans Souci, and the following spring the new landlord implemented an annual 12 percent lot rent increase and imposed new rules. Lot rents for Sans Souci residents currently are $540; they will rise to $600 in January and will continue rising annually till the rents reach "market rates."

Although his aging mobile home is paid off, Peirce says the increasing lot rental has been difficult for many residents to afford.  Many of his neighbors have lived in Sans Souci for 20 to 40 years, and at least half of the park's residents are now senior citizens on fixed incomes.

In 2013 Peirce's mobile home had sustained significant water damage during the floods that ravaged �鶹ӰԺ County, and he could not afford to renovate his unit. Then after teaching at CU �鶹ӰԺ for 17 years, the philosophy department reorganized its teaching line, and Peirce lost his academia position.

"I ended up struggling to make ends meet," says Peirce, who was living off his retirement funds. "As a result, I became an activist to help others in similar positions."

A transfer of park ownership
Changes at Sans Souci began soon after residents found blue bags from the new landlord dangling from their front doors. The printed bags read:  “Welcome to your new community." 

"We were already a community," says Peirce, who by then had lived at Sans Souci roughly 20 years. "They were the ones coming in."

The welcome packets contained a list of new park rules, including a 9 p.m. curfew. Rusted or dented cars were no longer allowed, a difficult requirement for the low-income residents. Children could no longer play in the "streets," which were just one-lane alleys.

Most disturbing was the landlord's "right of self-help," giving the owner rights to enter residents' lots unannounced at any time, Peirce says. The first time the new management came on the premises, a crew removed gardens and shrubbery from residents' lots. They also removed tree limbs that were shading and providing privacy.

"They did this all without forewarning," Peirce says. "They just walked on our premises and effectively took control." 

Peirce describes the community before the new owner took over.  "We felt at home," he says. "The resident artists painted a mural on a big water tank and a 'please do not speed sign,' with a painting of kids playing and riding in the street. Some artists displayed their artwork on their lots. Residents would landscape their lots in interesting ways, and everyone would walk around the park, look at each other’s properties and talk."

"The corporate owners don't care about preserving our community," Peirce continues. "They are driving out the artists who can’t afford to live here anymore, and their heavy-handedness on how our lots look put a damper on people’s control of their surroundings. With the increased rents, many long-term homeowners–people who have lived here at least 20 years and some 30 to 40 years–will not be able to afford the rents. If they are driven out, the park's history will be gone, and that’s a really scary prospect for us."

Although the new landlord's attitude had a "chilling effect," at the same time "activism solidified the community spirit," Peirce says. The new rules "brought residents out of the woodwork."

"People were saying, 'What’s going on? This is America. They can’t just do this, can they?'"

Soon after residents began holding impromptu park meetings and formed an HOA, and Peirce was appointed the group's organizer. As he became familiar with more of his neighbors, he discovered strong community connections–networks of people who helped each other, musicians who played at each other’s gigs and small tool-sharing outfits.

The group focused on increasing resident activism at Sans Souci and other mobile home parks. One of their many goals was to pass legislation that addressed the rights of Colorado's mobile home park residents.

"One of the most successful things we did was get a lot of press attention," Peirce said. "After that the county commissioners recognized what was happening and sent a letter to our new landlords asking them to behave. The landlords stepped back from the aggressive rules. They became much nicer, which was appreciated. But one thing they would not do was change the escalation of rent."

Activism and the formation of CoCoMHO
After Ishbel Dickens retired as the executive director of the national Mobile Home Owner's Association, the city of �鶹ӰԺ hired Dickens to assist mobile park residents with landlord issues. Dickens first helped organize CMOB, the Coalition of Manufactured Homeowners for �鶹ӰԺ. Eventually the members decided to expand CMOB to a state-wide organization, and Dickens helped with the founding of the Colorado Coalition of Manufactured Home Owners (CoCoMHO), also looping in the Leadville, Colorado group, Lake County Build a Generation, and 9to5, which advocates for low-income women’s rights and disadvantaged minorities.

In 2017 CoCoMHO and CU �鶹ӰԺ's Community Engagement, Design and Research Center (CEDaR) began working together to organize a manufactured housing fall forum, connecting mobile home park residents with state and county officials and with groups such as Colorado Legal Services, 9to5 and ROC USA, which finances park purchases. During the forum, literature was distributed about residents' rights. Forum sessions included teaching residents how to effectively organize and offering solutions that could lead to park residents living more autonomous lives. 

In the fall of 2018 and under the leadership of Dorie Glover, coalition members began to transition CoCoMHO into a nonprofit organization with a budget and paid staff. CEDaR became the organization's fiscal sponsor, helped launch an , a  and assisted the organization during the transition to nonprofit status.

In October 2018, Peirce began volunteering for CoCoMHO, "to help build a more vital, known and respected organization." He and other volunteers worked for months to map the organization's goals and submitted applications for grants that could help execute them. In 2019 the group received a rapid response grant from The Colorado Health Foundation, which funded a program manager and resident leaders. Peirce worked as a paid resident leader and in the summer of 2020 transitioned to a paid, part-time project manager position for CoCoMHO, a role he has held to this day. 

Before Peirce joined CoCoMHO, the organization requested that the Department of Regulatory Affairs (DORA) perform a sunrise review of the Mobile Home Park Act, and the request was granted. The ensuing report recommended more legislation and enforcement of existing legislation, and after the report was released, Peirce and others took advantage of the opportunity it provided. 

"We immediately started pounding the pavement," Peirce says. CoCoMHO volunteers called other state groups. Residents wrote their legislators explaining how their rights were being violated, pointing out that the 1985 Mobile Home Act was not being enforced because mobile home residents generally cannot afford attorneys and often don’t qualify for legal aid. 

Activism and Legislation Passed
In 2019 and 2020, CoCoMHO played a central role in passing three bills that support the rights of Colorado's mobile park residents: Mobile Home Park Act Oversight (HB19–1309); Mobile Home Park Act Update (HB20–1196) and the Mobile Home Park Residents Opportunity to Purchase (HB20-1201).

After the DORA Sunrise Review report was released, Colorado State Rep. Edie Hooten (�鶹ӰԺ HD-10) introduced the Mobile Home Park Act Oversight (HB19–1309), which passed, in part due to the activism of CoCoMHO members.  The bill was designed to provide enforcement for the original regulations outlined in the 1985 Mobile Home Parks Act.

HB19–1309 created the "Mobile Home Park Act Dispute Resolution and Enforcement Program," whereby residents can file complaints against park owners through the Department of Local Affairs’ Division of Housing. If a mutually agreed upon solution can’t be reached, the agency is authorized to issue determinations, cease and desist orders and fines.  The new program went live May 1, 2020, and to date roughly 60 complaints have been filed. Peirce says the program cannot yet keep up with the volume of complaints because it was not fully funded in its first year. Currently the program, which has a funding mechanism of a $2 per month fee per lot, supports a two-person staff, and when fully funded will ramp up to four and a third positions. 

CoCoMHO's work also helped pass two bills in 2020, the Mobile Home Park Act Update (HB20–1196), which added more clarity and increased resident rights to the Mobile Home Park Act and the Mobile Home Park Act Dispute Resolution and Enforcement Program; and the Mobile Home Park Residents Opportunity to Purchase (HB20-1201), which guarantees residents the right to make a purchase offer any time park owners are thinking of selling their parks. HB20-1201 puts the sale into a hold period, so that park residents have enough time to put together a purchase offer.

"I feel very good about the successes that CoCoMHO had, both by stimulating legislation and by playing a central role in the content of the legislation," Peirce says.

Effects of COVID-19
After the pandemic hit, CoCoMHO's efforts expanded to include work aimed at preventing evictions. Park residents who lost their jobs were able to receive financial assistance, in part because of the organization distributing information about protections for renters and rent relief. 

Peirce worries about seniors and people with disabilities living on Social Security as they frequently receive below $1,000 a month, forcing them to work part time, which increases their risk of contracting COVID-19.

Peirce says the amount of time CoCoMHO spends to prevent evictions has slowed the process of finding resident leaders and helping residents file complaints through the new legislation. Adding to the bottleneck is that activists can't go door-to-door during the pandemic, and many residents do not have email accounts. 

Residents purchasing San Souci
Soon after the pandemic hit, Sans Souci's landlord announced an additional 12 percent increase in lot rentals, and the park's HOA notified the press with an open letter sent to the landlord. It read, "Please do not raise the rent; instead sell the park to us."

Peirce says Sans Souci's residents are spending increasing percentages of their incomes on lot rents, and the group would like to purchase the park to stabilize the rent. In 2019 the residents submitted an offer, but Thistle Community Housing, the local technical assistance provider for ROC USA, which finances park purchases, did not have the capacity to help because it was already helping three resident groups purchase their parks.

In 2020 Sans Souci residents made another offer to purchase the park. Peirce says if Sans Souci's owners accept the purchase price and the residents finance the loan without supplemental help, such as through tax breaks, government or foundation grants or donations from local businesses, it will cost residents approximately $800 per month per lot to repay the loan, but it would provide substantial benefits. The rent would be stable and for the first time, residents' equity in their lots would increase in ways similar to other local homeowners rather than the increase being captured entirely by park owners. But Peirce notes the $800 monthly rent will still be out of reach for many current residents.

Peirce and CEDaR are currently seeking funding to offset the cost to residents so that longtime Sans Souci community members as well as mobile home park residents across the state can purchase their parks and remain in their homes.

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When Dave Weil moved into Mapleton Mobile Home Park in the late 1990s, the 1963 manufactured home he purchased was in such poor condition it wasn't livable, he says.

Weil, 61, immediately rolled up his sleeves and began upgrading the single-wide, 10 by 50 foot unit. Since moving into the �鶹ӰԺ, Colorado park, he has replaced the porch, added a storage shed and upgraded the appliances, including the furnace, refrigerator, range and water heater as well as some of the electrical wiring. He also replaced the roof and windows and added insulation to the ceiling to make the unit more energy efficient. A few years ago, he added hardwood floors.

The cost and effort were well worth it, says Weil, who has lived in the same manufactured home for 22 years.

"In �鶹ӰԺ the options for affordable living are very limited," Weil says. "And one of the few options available in the late 1990s/early 2000s was manufactured housing."

Dream plans
Weil is looking to update his manufactured home again and make it more energy efficient. He says the biggest flaw with older units is the tremendous heat loss through walls. Even heating small mobile homes equipped with a modern 95-percent efficient furnace can cost $200 or $300 per month, he says. 

CU �鶹ӰԺ's Community Engagement Design and Research Center (CEDaR) is helping Weil make his dreams come true by organizing and facilitating the remodel. Called "Mobile Home Retrofit: Design & Demonstration," the project's goal is to design and build a mobile home retrofit that is energy and resource efficient, yet very livable, says Brian Muller, CEDaR director. CEDaR connected Weil with students from The Rural Project, a student organization that seeks to engage and empower communities in Colorado through design-based activism, Muller says. These students and other CU �鶹ӰԺ interns helped Weil conceptualize what he wanted within his budget and then worked with the city and others to get approvals. The students are also working on the "deep design issues," including determining the most efficient technologies, the roof height and methods of building a kitchen within the confines of narrow lots. The remodel must be built on the existing chassis.

"We are focused on creating affordable and highly livable spaces that are very attractive and beautiful," Muller says.

Through interviews with Weil to discover his preferences and interests, Elsa Jerde, an architecture major who graduated from CU �鶹ӰԺ in spring 2020, developed the conceptual design. 

"Elsa is a delight to work with," Weil says. "She seems to have a lot of expertise in her field of study and has a high degree of confidence to get this project done."

Weil says the plan calls for adding rigid foam insulation to the walls and possibly the ceiling to reduce energy loss. It also includes removing the walls and probably the roof, stripping the structure down to its chassis and rebuilding it with the same footprint but a different floor plan. The plan also includes repositioning the windows to let in more light and obscure the view of parked cars as well as raising the ceiling. He's also hoping to add solar panels to the south roof as well as solar battery storage. Jerde's design also allows for preserving the existing hardwood floors and leaving the freestanding porch in place. 

For Weil, one of the most difficult issues with his manufactured home has been the "substandard plumbling and electrical." If large sections of the electrical and plumbing need to be replaced, the project will require more engineering, more inspections and more permiting, which will slow the process. He guesses the renovations will take one to two years to complete. At CU �鶹ӰԺ a studio class is planned for spring 2021 with the build planned for summer 2021.

Weil plans to purchase an old motor home, park it in one of his parking spaces, plug into the power source the contractors will be utilizing or run off of solar and live in the vehicle until the construction is completed. He admits he hasn't yet run his plan by the Mapleton Homeowner's Association (MHA), but in the past other residents were granted permission for a similar process, he says. To date the MHA has asked only for certain forms to be submitted for approval and for the applicable city building permits.  

This summer CEDaR is also conducting a post-occupancy survey of its 2005 project, Trailer Wrap I, a beautifully remodeled mobile home once slated for the dump, to determine the owner's satisfaction with the student-designed/built remodel as well as what the neighbors think about it.  Similar to the current project, the goal of Trailer Wrap I was to improve the manufactured home's spatial quality and energy efficiency and to sensitize student designers to community needs through a real-world experience.

"Preliminary findings show Trailer Wrap I was highly successful–very energy efficient and quite popular in the community,"  Muller says. "The owner has enjoyed living there. And the neighbors and the Mapleton community by and large seem to like it."

Voices: Dave Weil, Part II Park governance, inequity and legislation

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An inequitable pandemic
In the middle of March 2020, Colorado Gov. Jared Polis issued a stay-at-home order to slow the pandemic, and like many small business owners, Dave Weil was caught in the middle. Weil closed his thriving massage therapy business; by July he was still only seeing a few clients each week.

"It's not enough to get by in �鶹ӰԺ," says Weil who lives in Mapleton Mobile Home Park in �鶹ӰԺ, Colorado. He now attends community food drops offered in the mobile home park, and he's mostly cooking at home.

Because he has some savings and because living at Mapleton, which is cooperately owned, is "semi-affordable," he will be OK for the immediate future. That said, his planned renovation project will go on hold if his savings continue to be depleted.

Weil says many park residents are struggling from lost income due to COVID-19, including a printer, a teacher, a salesperson and a few restaurant workers.The uniformly spaced units allow for isolation of individuals. Residents wear masks and keep socially distanced when gathering for meetings or food drops, which are held outside. That said, most Mapleton residents fall in the 50 to 70-year-old age range, with a few residents in their 80s, and because of their succeptibility to COVID-19, they have reduced contact with neighbors and the outside community. 

"I have a credo that it's better to not know too much about your neighbors," he says. "We are so close together here, practically sharing walls, that it's better we keep things on a polite level and not get too initimate with details."

An affordable alternative
Weil says choosing Mapleton was a "no-brainer."  Before moving to the trailer park, rent for his �鶹ӰԺ apartment teetered on 50 percent of his income as a massage therapist with a busy practice.  When he moved to Mapleton, he paid $9,000 for the structure that would become his home at a time when the average house price in �鶹ӰԺ topped $225,000. Today the average home sale price in �鶹ӰԺ is $1.1 million.

"If I hadn't had the option of living in a manufactured home, I would have had to move out of �鶹ӰԺ," he says.

He ticks off Mapleton's advantages over other area mobile home parks. Mapleton is a six-minute walk to the center of town, and he lives in a quiet cul-de-sac. Lot rentals are less expensive than other �鶹ӰԺ parks, and Mapleton has a more democratic governance, he says. When he moved in, the city of �鶹ӰԺ owned the park, but soon after it was sold to Thistle Community Housing, a nonprofit organization which develops, manages and preserves permanently affordable rental and ownership homes in �鶹ӰԺ County. He credits Thistle, which operates as his landlord, in authoring the park's democratic structure.

"We have a micro-paradise here because we control land-use values within the park, which means outside parties can't decide what happens with our homes or with the land around our homes," he says. "That's a major advantage over the mobile home communities within �鶹ӰԺ owned by outside entitites who don't have an interest in quality-of-life issues or length of residency or land-use values. We vote on any change or improvement that happens within the park. Everyone gets a vote."

Mapleton is also one of the more ethnically diverse communities in �鶹ӰԺ, Weil says. He estimates that 50 percent of the residents are Latino or other minorities and about 40 percent are age 65 and older. He estimates only one in five households has an intact nuclear family. 

Within the park there is a sense of community. Before COVID-19 there were regular gatherings, as well as community yard sales and clean ups. Residents tend to purchase sustainable materials for their projects, and the community recycles, including electronics, and composts. There is a community garden, and Weil's yard is a huge network of raised beds and individual containers. The park maintains the trees within, which he says has been great for the wildlife and the city as a whole.

"There is no good reason to leave Mapleton," Weil says. 

Legislation to make things better
Unlike other local mobile home parks, Mapleton's lease includes a mandate that only allows a 1 to 2 percent annual rent increase, and Mapleton is also a community land trust, meaning the community is owned by the residents. But similar to other Colorado parks, none of Mapleton's residents own the land beneath their units and state law favors out-of-state corporate ownership of trailer parks over local or individual ownership. 

Some states have inacted laws allowing residents to purchase the land beneath their trailers after they have lived there one or two years, but that hasn't been the case in Colorado, where the majority of parks are owned by out-of-state corporations and holding companies, each of which may own as many as 100 different parks across the country. Weil says these corporations have no interest in helping healthy communities develop in their parks.  An example is Sans Souci Mobile Home Park in unincorporated �鶹ӰԺ County, where an out-of-state corporate owner has imposed steep rent hikes and mandated unwanted landscape changes to residents' property, he says. 

"I believe very strongly that laws needs to change to favor individual ownership so that people can build equity in their homes," Weil says. "You could live in the same home for 20 or 25 years and spend over $100,000 on lot rentals during that period, and the amount of equity you gain is exactly zero. In fact, if you live in your home long enough you end up with a liability because you have to pay to have that home demolished and hauled away, and you are no closer to getting a replacement home."

Weil says few see mobile homes as good real-estate investments because residents are not protected.

"Banks typically want equity to loan money, and you can't use your home because it's not worth anything, and you can't use the land because it's not yours," he says.

Voices: Dave Weil (Part I) Rehabilitation of an aging structure

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