A Wichita man’s tale of two family homes reveals unexpected barriers to saving older houses in 67214

This story is part of a two-part package from the Wichita Journalism Collaborative and includes “Redlining helped spur disinvestment in Wichita’s Urban Core.”

Like a lot of people who grow up in big families with lots of aunts, uncles and cousins, Jason Washington has fond childhood memories of family gatherings at grandma’s house.

Just driving by the house at 1531 N. Green brings a flood of memories for Washington. The single-family bungalow built in 1930 sits vacant and needs repair.

Washington, who now lives a couple of streets over, grew up in the same neighborhood. He picks up the mail, pays the taxes, and does his best to keep the grass cut and trash picked up at his grandparents’ house. He knows it needs a new roof and a stabilized foundation. He lacks the legal right to do the work.

In June, Washington, 43, opened a letter from the city of Wichita code enforcement notifying him that repairs need to be made by the end of September or further action could be taken.

“I really, really want to save it,” he said. “My grandfather had a construction company, Washington Construction, and he and my uncles and my dad built that house.”

Despite what city officials termed as “numerous housing violations,” the house isn’t in imminent danger of being torn down. But Washington knows all too well that the clock can eventually run out on vacant homes deemed dangerous and structurally unsound.

Washington worked for a year and a half to sell a late uncle’s house, at 1523 N. Green, which sat next door to his grandparents’ house. He wanted to use the proceeds to fix up his grandma’s place. But after several twists and turns, the city council condemned and demolished his uncle’s house last year.

A decade of demolitions in Wichita

In a written statement, city of Wichita spokeswoman Megan Lovely characterized 1523 N. Green as “no one’s home, as it was not habitable.”

“The last water consumption at 1523 N. Green was on March 14, 2008,” Lovely stated, “so the house had been vacant for more than 15 years when it was demolished.”

Washington’s uncle’s house was a part of a cluster of neighborhoods sitting in one of the state’s poorest ZIP codes, 67214, one that has been receiving increased attention from the community in recent years. Redevelopment efforts underway include the construction of 110 homes over the past decade by Wichita Habitat for Humanity.

With the adoption of the Places for People Plan as an element of the Wichita-Sedgwick County Comprehensive Plan five years ago, urban infill in areas of the city experiencing the greatest decline became an explicit strategy to spur reinvestment. The plan established a land bank, more resources for “ridding neighborhoods of dangerous and unsafe structures,” a $5 million affordable housing fund and a two-year pilot program of 20-year special assessments.

Demolition is just one aspect of ridding neighborhoods of dangerous and unsafe structures, Lovely wrote on behalf of the city. Unsightly homes with deferred maintenance needs, but that are structurally sound, she stated, are generally repaired and returned to useful service.

“When a blighted, dilapidated and dangerous structure is removed and a new, safe and properly constructed structure is built to replace it,” Lovely stated, “that is a huge benefit to the neighborhood and spurs further redevelopment and revitalization in that area.”

The land bank, first established in 2021, doesn’t appear destined to be around for much longer. The city now plans to disband it due to lack of funding and a “tax foreclosure process that does not provide the opportunity to acquire properties like other land banks in Kansas,” Lovely’s response said.

Despite that, the city did indicate that Washington might have the option of donating the lot where his uncle’s house sat to the land bank to avoid having to reimburse the city for demolition costs since the land bank has not yet been dissolved.

At the same time, housing in 67214 is being removed at a higher rate than in other parts of the city. A Wichita Journalism Collaborative analysis of demolition permits by ZIP code in Sedgwick County shows that over the past decade, 166 single-family homes were demolished in the area, compared to fewer than 100 in each of the other ZIP codes in Sedgwick County.

Most of those demolitions, Lovely indicated, are not initiated by city officials and that “the city obviously could not speak to private demolitions and the driver behind those.”

For a structure to be considered for removal, it has to be vacant. Occupied structures are not considered for formal condemnation, Lovely said. The city considers the condemnation process “a last resort for a dilapidated and dangerous property,” necessitating a lengthy procedure.

Over the past six years, the city has formally condemned 53 structures and used emergency demolition for another 67, according to figures supplied by Lovely. Emergency demolitions can be used for properties that have been catastrophically damaged by incidents such as fires.

But a Wichita Journalism Collaborative review of “removal of dangerous or unsafe structure” hearings over two years reveals that the lack of a clear title can also play a role in the progression toward demolition. Since only an owner or contractor hired by the owner can get a building permit, repairs can’t be made and the house continues to deteriorate.

With removals occurring more frequently than the construction of new housing on the whole, the effect is that some streets have been left with gaps from vacant lots.

Aujanae Bennett has been association president for the Northeast Millair neighborhood, which adjoins the 67214 ZIP code, for years. She says boarded up, dilapidated houses devalue everything around them, but empty lots full of weeds and trash are just as bad.

Furthermore, with housing in increasingly short supply in Wichita, there have been advocates for saving more houses like 1523 N. Green.

Eugene Anderson lived in 67214 and was interviewed for this story prior to his death on July 2. He considered the number of absentee owners the biggest contributor to demolition in the area and elevated the need for more affordable housing.

“You collect a lot more taxes on higher-priced housing,” he said. “But the reality is we need lower-cost housing. There are a lot of people who work hard all their lives and never have the means to buy those more expensive houses. And anything you build brand new is going to cost a lot more than an existing structure you rehab.”

Real estate investor William Vann is senior pastor at the Iasis Christian Center, located in 67214. Vann owns more than 40 rental properties in the area that he has rehabbed. He was one of the people interested in buying Washington’s uncle’s house before it was razed.

“I looked it over. It needed some foundation work but almost all concrete block foundations of that age do. It needed a new roof but the basic structure was sound. I could have made it into a nice little starter home,” he said.

Retired realtor John Todd regularly appears before the appeals board and the city council to advocate for homeowners facing condemnation.

He argues that at a time when affordable housing is in critically short supply, too often homes are demolished that could be rehabbed into lower priced homes. Instead, he says the city needs to develop a system to identify and treat differently homes that can be affordably rehabilitated.

Not just a matter of age or condition

If city officials hold to demolishing houses through a rare, drawn-out process, they also face countervailing pressures to more quickly remove dangerous and unsafe structures. In years past, some neighborhood leaders have advocated for demolishing blighted homes quicker because they believe such structures bring down property values and attract crime .

Perceptions that the city wasn’t acting fast as it could prompted officials, in part, to present a shift in their process to the city council in February 2021, which called for situations involving dangerous and unsafe structures – the “worst of the worst” – to be resolved through the condemnation process, rather than being first treated as housing code violations.

Fifty percent of condemnation cases at the time were being resolved without removal of the structure, said KaLyn Nethercot, neighborhood inspection administrator at the Metropolitan Area Building and Construction Department. She told council members a shift would allow for a “more efficient reduction of dangerous and dilapidated structures throughout the city without in any way diminishing a citizen’s due process opportunities.”

The condemnation process in Wichita unfolds over a series of milestones. It involves a minimum of two hearings, one before the Board of Code of Standards and Appeals and a final hearing before the Wichita City Council. Homeowners are often given multiple extensions to complete repairs. From 2016 through 2020, it took an average of 353 days to remove a dangerous or neglected house, according to a city of Wichita presentation on removal of dangerous and unsafe structures .

While the age of housing stock can have an impact on its condition, an analysis of public data indicates that the disproportionate number of demolitions in northeast Wichita may not be only a matter of age or condition.

At least three other ZIP codes in the urban core have more older homes, according to an analysis of Sedgwick County Appraiser parcel data. And in a span of five years, four ZIP codes in Wichita’s urban core, including 67214, accounted for 40% of all code violations.

Brandon Johnson, district 1 city council member, attributes the number of demolitions in 67214, which is in his district, to more complaints being made because more homes are vacant and become an issue for neighborhoods. The ZIP code has a vacancy rate between 24% and 27%, according to the most recent Census data — the highest vacancy rate of all Wichita ZIP codes.

Homes may become vacant because a homeowner dies or relocates to assisted living. Too often, homeowners do not understand the importance of making it easy for an heir to sell or rehab their home when they must move into a nursing home or when they die, according to Tim Holt, a real estate agent with Golden, Inc.

“You don’t need a lengthy probate process if you give your heirs joint ownership,” he said. “If you have a mortgage on the property, the lienholder may have to sign off on the addition to the title, but that is not generally a problem either. But how are people supposed to know that if nobody tells them?”

Issues with clear titles are prevalent, Holt said. Unpaid taxes and deceased owners are the most common causes of encumbered titles.

“I do think we lose homes that could be saved because we don’t allow a presumptive heir to get a permit to make needed repairs,” he said.

He is also concerned that too many people don’t know where to turn for help. “There ought to be a course you can take when you buy a home,” said Holt. “The city process can be really hard to follow and communication is often lacking.”

Attempts to save Washington’s Uncle’s House

Despite a year of trying, Washington wasn’t able to save the house he inherited from his uncle, Kenneth Washington, who died in December 2021. He began working with an attorney to obtain the title in his name so he could sell the house and use the funds to repair his grandparents’ house.

The estate was still in probate in April of 2022, when he found a notice of housing code violations on the front porch of the property. At the May 2, 2022 monthly meeting of the Board of Code Standards and Appeals, the case came up for decision. Washington did not appear at that hearing – he said he wasn’t aware he could speak for the property at the meeting – and the board voted to recommend condemnation of the house to the Wichita City Council.

That recommendation made the council agenda on Aug. 2, 2022. Washington did appear at that hearing and told the council that he was working with an attorney to clear probate. The council gave him until Oct. 11 to get a clear title so he could sell the house.

After obtaining title, Washington deeded the house to another uncle, Gregory Turentine, who said he wanted to fix it up for his daughter to live in. This way, the house would stay in the family, with the hopes of eventually selling it. At the Oct. 11 council meeting, KaLyn Nethercot, neighborhood inspection administrator at the Metropolitan Area Building and Construction Department, recommended a six-month extension to work with the new owner. Washington said he and a cousin attended that hearing but did not speak because Nethercot recommended the extension. In that six-month period, the city said through Lovely that it did not receive any communication with the new owner or anyone else regarding the property. The council delayed the case until April 4, 2023.

The title change proved to be a costly error. Turentine’s rehab plans fell through and Washington had to start over to get the property deeded back to him so he could again seek a buyer. He was working with two realtors, with at least one offer, but had to wait on the title to finalize a sale. The title still was not in Washington’s name by April 4, 2023 so he did not receive notice in advance of a hearing before the city council. The council voted at that meeting to bulldoze the house.

Because the title was no longer in his name, he did not receive notice of that hearing. He was still working to gain ownership of the house.  When he received a tax refund in June, he paid any past-due property taxes and assessments, a total of more than $1,400.

When Washington finally did get a clear title in July, it was too late. The city had already demolished the house. Now as the title holder, he is the owner of a lot valued at between $5,000 and $6,000 with a lien of more than $13,500 on it for the cost of bulldozing the house he had worked so hard to keep in the family.

Johnson said that if a property owner engages with the building department or if he is made aware someone is trying to clear a title or faces other obstacles to making the repairs, it’s possible to get them an extension. But the latest information he had was that the house had been sold in October 2022 and there had been no contact with the new owner. He said he wasn’t aware that Washington was working to again clear the title. He encourages anyone in this situation to contact building officials or himself.

Washington got the house back in his name on July 29, 2023, just days after the city confirmed the house was bulldozed.

Now, Washington hopes the situation with his grandmother’s house will lead to a different outcome. He still has hurdles to clear.

The notification from city code enforcement gave him until Sept. 26 to make needed repairs.

But right now that’s impossible. Until he clears the title for the house, city code prohibits him from either working on it or hiring anyone else to do so. Almost three years since Washington first began the process of trying to renovate his grandmother’s house, he still can’t get started.

In its statement, the city indicated it would not pursue the housing code violations case at this time, because the owner of record is deceased. But it did not say whether Washington would face additional action if he becomes the owner.

Washington can’t access programs from the city and Wichita Habitat for Humanity that help homeowners pay for repairs because they require the owner to occupy the house for six months to a year before they can apply.

He still holds out hope that he will be able to resolve the situation with the house and keep it standing for good. It’s important, not only for helping him preserve some of his family’s intergenerational wealth, but also keeping family history alive.

“All the happiest memories of my childhood happened under that roof – Thanksgiving dinners and Christmas gift exchanges, summer picnics and birthday parties. Me and all my siblings and cousins learned to ride a bike in that driveway. My dad had 11 siblings and when I was a kid, most of them had a house in the neighborhood,” Washington said.

P.J. Griekspoor is a semi-retired journalist now working as a free-lancer. She has a 57-year history as a newspaper reporter, editor and magazine editor, including 18 years at the Wichita Eagle and most recently, 13 years at Kansas Farmer. Her recent work has appeared in The Community Voice and the Kansas Leadership Center Journal.

Janelle O’Dea is an investigative data journalist based in St. Louis. She previously worked for the Center for Public Integrity, and after the Center laid off all staff earlier this year, O’Dea opted to finish the project with the Wichita Journalism Collaborative as a freelancer. She now works as an investigative reporter for the Illinois Answers project, the nonprofit newsroom arm of the Better Government Association. Her data work with the Wichita Journalism Collaborative was funded through a grant from the Wichita Foundation, which also funds the collaborative.

Selena Favela is a freelance photographer in Wichita. Favela enjoys channeling her natural curiosity into telling stories through photojournalism. She regularly finds herself learning something new and unexpected while on assignment. In her free time Favela loves to garden and listen to crime podcasts.

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