Evicted tenant fights back

The storm that has engulfed homeowners and the housing industry in recent years has taken a harsh toll on untold numbers of Floridians. Half of Tampa Bay homeowners are "under water" on their mortgages. Foreclosure cases are clogging local courts.

Then there is Allen Rhodes. One day he's living in Tampa with his girlfriend and her daughter. The next, they are kicked out of the apartment and virtually everything he owned is gone.

For the next two months, he lived in his 1991 Honda Prelude.

Rhodes' woes began in early January when he returned from out of town to find he had no home.

The finance company had foreclosed on the West Gray Street apartment; Hillsborough Sheriff's deputies had enforced an eviction order. Rhodes said he had sensed problems with the landlord and the property for months. However, he did not think the situation was serious because he had not received an eviction notice.

There was no doubt, though, that he had been evicted. He thinks everything he owned might have been left at the curb.

"I saw people wearing my clothes right after I was kicked out," the 39-year-old Rhodes said.

"I'm not trying to get emotional, but it's real, it's real," Rhodes said. "For me to be out here, a man, in this car, I thought I had a home. Everything I worked for, not just the two years I occupied this apartment, everything I had. Even my shower curtain. They took my .... shower curtain and told me there's nothing I can do."

With nowhere else to go, he lived out of his car.

"This is my house right now," Rhodes said, motioning toward the Prelude. The car was parked on North A Street in front of a friend's place.

With a lot of time to ponder his situation, Rhodes started to think this was about karma. He had served more than 161/2 years for convictions involving drugs, robbery and assaulting a jail guard. Since his release, he's been picked up on several charges, though most were dropped or reduced.

He held a steady job at Whaley's Market until the store closed. Now he tries to make ends meet doing lawn work and the few jobs that are available for felons.

Maybe, he thought, he was being punished for his mistakes.

"I know people are going to have their judgment," Rhodes said. "But judge me as a United States citizen that's paid his rent."

Rhodes shopped for a lawyer to take his case, and finally found Paul Rebein, who recently appeared with Rhodes before Hillsborough Circuit Judge Robert Foster.

Court records show the mortgage provider, Chase Home Finance, notified the other tenants about the impending eviction, but not Rhodes. Foster ordered Chase to allow Rhodes back in the Gray Street apartment, at least for now.

He also ordered Chase and Rebein to work out a reimbursement plan for Rhodes' possessions.

After the hearing, Rebein called it a small victory for people affected by the housing crisis through no fault of their own.

"When Chase went broke, they came to the government and said they were too big to fail, but I guess they were too big to care in this case and Mr. Rhodes was too poor to matter," Rebein said.

Chase Home Finance officials declined to comment.

Although Rhodes was allowed to return to his old apartment, his life is still far from what it was.

Some of the walls had been kicked in, and the appliances and toilet didn't work. He was forced to use the few pieces of clothing he had to cover the windows. The emptiness was a reminder of everything he had lost.

But the electricity still worked and kept him warm. And the floor was better than sleeping in a car, even if his pillow was a plastic bag with a shirt stuffed inside, and his bedding was a pair of pants.

His housing arrangements are still complicated, and evolving. The electricity was shut off, and until it's back on, he's living in his car.

And he doesn't have a girlfriend.

"She thinks it's my fault," Rhodes said. "I ain't done nothing but rent an apartment from a landlord."