The remaining tenants at the Court View Apartments in Downtown were given just three days to get out or face forced eviction.
But by Friday, 11 of the 19 units in the building, which has been acquired for redevelopment, remained occupied, mostly because the tenants had nowhere to go, they said.
Fear and chaos permeated the building as residents scrambled to box up their belongings and make hasty plans to relocate. Still, each eviction case will have to be heard in court before residents can for forced to move, which could take days or weeks in some instances.
Those still lingering in their Court View apartments realize they're running out of time.
"We're trying to stand our ground until they (the developer) negotiate with us for more fair terms,'' said Jeff Stout, a Chicago native who has lived at Court View for nearly three years. "But they haven't been willing to negotiate. Everyone's under extreme fear. A lot of people are facing imminent homelessness.''
The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recently extended a federal moratorium on evictions until July 31 to prevent just such wholesale upheaval. But the moratorium only applies to tenants who declare they are losing their apartments if they lost income and fell behind on rent because of the pandemic.
None of the remaining tenants at Court View have declared pandemic-related distress.
Vision & Beyond Capital Investments, a Mount Auburn-based startup that bought the apartment building at 7 West Court St., initially gave residents just 30-day notice to move in May. The developer extended the deadline to July 11, before posting the eviction notices this week.
The remaining residents say they still haven't had enough time to find a new place to live while their lives and an entire community are being dismantled.
Trying to find cash
Tim Reed was rummaging through the vast collection of Bengals’ memorabilia he’s been collecting since he was a boy when he noticed a football signed by former Bengals' wideout Chad Johnson, still in its display case.
“That's in mint condition. I know it’s worth a lot of money. I hate to sell it, but what choice do I have?’’ asked the 61-year-old retired postal worker as he nervously stroked his 16-year-old dog, Shiloh.