Economy, soft market leave subdivisions unfinished
January 28, 2008
BY ZLATI MEYER
FREE PRESS STAFF WRITER
Sunshine streaks through the small grove of trees behind Tracy and Samir Moussa's Clinton Township home, filling the airy, two-story living room and reflecting off the fine-wood kitchen cabinets. Peer into their backyard, and a detached paver-stone patio beckons.
But across the street, the view isn't what many would expect from a $320,000 suburban dream home. There are no neighbors facing them. Few kids ride by on bikes. A giant muddy expanse stares back at them.
The Moussas are like hundreds of other suburbanites who rushed to be the first in new housing developments, only to later end up being lonely residents. If the thought was to get away from it all, then that's exactly what they've done.
"I think they don't have any money," Tracy Moussa said of the developers of Partridge Creek, the unfinished subdivision they moved into about two years ago. "Truly, if the economy was better, it'd be full. ... I'd hoped that by the five-year point, it'd be full."
Sales of new homes have fallen to the lowest level in 12 years, according to latest data from the U.S. Department of Commerce. New home sales decreased 9% between October and November nationally and by 27.6% in the Midwest.
That drop is reflected in subdivisions like the Moussas' and in sluggish construction in Macomb Township -- where 20 subdivisions have stalled -- and in Oakland Township, where building in two developments has slowed, officials there said.
While the focus in southeast Michigan has been on the foreclosure crisis, subdivisions and condo projects planned during the boom remain incomplete with unpaved streets, weedy landscapes and vacant parcels.
"A mattress was dumped," Tracy Moussa said. "I have to ask them to cut the weeds. ... The values of the homes have gone down."
Robert Waltenspiel has encountered similar problems in his unfinished Forester Square subdivision in Auburn Hills, which his family moved into about two years ago.
He, wife Bo and their two young daughters have one neighbor, but on both sides of the two homes are vacant tracts. Across the small road, a row of planned homes hasn't been built, so they see the garages and backs of townhouses yards away. And despite the subdivision's name, there are no trees near their home.
Bruce Building Co., the developer of Forester Square, did not return phone calls.
"People who lived here were actually going out and weeding," Waltenspiel said. "They didn't turn on the sprinklers to water the public areas, so everything was burnt, and it's a big football area, and the adjourning area was burnt up. It wasn't trimmed. ... It's pretty embarrassing when we have people over."
To developers and builders, the issue is more complex than any one complaint.
"In many respects, we don't create demand; we fill it," said Jim Clarke, president of Robertson Bros., a Bloomfield Hills-based developer building the Milford Lakes development in Milford Township. "You can't stop the spigot fast enough" because of the long planning and building process.
Carl Scurto of Spartan Dicicco, the company that built the Moussas' home, sees advantages to being among the first wave of residents and disadvantages to moving into an already-settled subdivision.
"In an older neighborhood, there's a guy's rusted-out pool; you can't control that," he said. "When you go into a subdivision that's not completed yet, you have choice of prime lots, wooded lots, corner lots. It's part of the business when you're building."
Richard Ives, vice president of Trinity Land Development, one of Partridge Creek's managing partners, countered the Moussas' complaints.
Municipalities don't want sidewalks put in before houses are built because construction equipment ruins them, and the developer is paying about half the landscape maintenance costs, Ives said.
Several residents serve as an advisory group until enough houses in the sub are filled to form a homeowners association.
"The developer is responsible for acquiring land, getting approvals, putting in all the infrastructures, any of the amenities, which we've done," he said, explaining that 360 lots in Partridge Creek were sold to five builders who've built 80 houses -- roughly half of what they would've built in previous years.
Now, with new home sales suffering, many builders are reluctant to construct homes without buyers in place.
To spur sales, builders and developers are resorting to creative incentives, such as free landscaping, discounts of thousands of dollars and free upgrades like marble, hardwood floors and high-end appliances.
For people who are among the first to buy in a development, they, like the idle construction crews, stand angry and isolated.
"I did think it'd be more of a community," Waltenspiel said. "There's not much going on. People aren't congregating. ... We had no idea what we'd be getting into."
Craig Koss, president of Kramer-Triad, the company that manages the subdivision, said he still believes Waltenspiel and other Forester Square residents will get what they expected.
Forester Square is "a great community. It's going to be fine. It's going to be a struggle for a while, but it's going to be fine," Koss predicted.
Still, for homeowners like Bea McGinty, the economy is quickly sapping any confidence that life in her condominium complex will get better.
When the 75-year-old grandmother moved back to Michigan from Florida, she bought a condo in Plymouth's Daisy Square -- site unseen -- because of its proximity to shopping, a godsend for someone who doesn't drive and lives in the suburbs.
Since she moved in a year and half ago, McGinty has been bookended by what she considers blight. The field behind her building is bare, though another row of homes was slated for the spot.
"I don't know what's doing with bare fields. There's no grass. It's an eyesore, ugliness," she said. "At least plot it over, make a few paths, plant a few bushes, put a fountain in, a place for kids to play. ... I'm discouraged and disgusted."
McGinty also sees part of the façade of Daisy Manufacturing Co., the historic BB gun maker, that was to be incorporated into the development.
Also visible to McGinty is resident turnover in her building, where the developer rents a few units.
"If I sold my place now, I'd lose $20,000 because of bad sales and the economy," McGinty said.
Livonia real estate agent and lawyer Carol Hainline said she understands some of the frustration of isolated homeowners.
"The problem I see is people are spending half a million on a house and now they have trash around them; I can see why they're upset," Hainline explained. "What can you do? You're buying a lot in a particular place from a builder. They don't give you a guarantee when you're buying that the subdivision will be built."
January 28, 2008
BY ZLATI MEYER
FREE PRESS STAFF WRITER
Sunshine streaks through the small grove of trees behind Tracy and Samir Moussa's Clinton Township home, filling the airy, two-story living room and reflecting off the fine-wood kitchen cabinets. Peer into their backyard, and a detached paver-stone patio beckons.
But across the street, the view isn't what many would expect from a $320,000 suburban dream home. There are no neighbors facing them. Few kids ride by on bikes. A giant muddy expanse stares back at them.
The Moussas are like hundreds of other suburbanites who rushed to be the first in new housing developments, only to later end up being lonely residents. If the thought was to get away from it all, then that's exactly what they've done.
"I think they don't have any money," Tracy Moussa said of the developers of Partridge Creek, the unfinished subdivision they moved into about two years ago. "Truly, if the economy was better, it'd be full. ... I'd hoped that by the five-year point, it'd be full."
Sales of new homes have fallen to the lowest level in 12 years, according to latest data from the U.S. Department of Commerce. New home sales decreased 9% between October and November nationally and by 27.6% in the Midwest.
That drop is reflected in subdivisions like the Moussas' and in sluggish construction in Macomb Township -- where 20 subdivisions have stalled -- and in Oakland Township, where building in two developments has slowed, officials there said.
While the focus in southeast Michigan has been on the foreclosure crisis, subdivisions and condo projects planned during the boom remain incomplete with unpaved streets, weedy landscapes and vacant parcels.
"A mattress was dumped," Tracy Moussa said. "I have to ask them to cut the weeds. ... The values of the homes have gone down."
Robert Waltenspiel has encountered similar problems in his unfinished Forester Square subdivision in Auburn Hills, which his family moved into about two years ago.
He, wife Bo and their two young daughters have one neighbor, but on both sides of the two homes are vacant tracts. Across the small road, a row of planned homes hasn't been built, so they see the garages and backs of townhouses yards away. And despite the subdivision's name, there are no trees near their home.
Bruce Building Co., the developer of Forester Square, did not return phone calls.
"People who lived here were actually going out and weeding," Waltenspiel said. "They didn't turn on the sprinklers to water the public areas, so everything was burnt, and it's a big football area, and the adjourning area was burnt up. It wasn't trimmed. ... It's pretty embarrassing when we have people over."
To developers and builders, the issue is more complex than any one complaint.
"In many respects, we don't create demand; we fill it," said Jim Clarke, president of Robertson Bros., a Bloomfield Hills-based developer building the Milford Lakes development in Milford Township. "You can't stop the spigot fast enough" because of the long planning and building process.
Carl Scurto of Spartan Dicicco, the company that built the Moussas' home, sees advantages to being among the first wave of residents and disadvantages to moving into an already-settled subdivision.
"In an older neighborhood, there's a guy's rusted-out pool; you can't control that," he said. "When you go into a subdivision that's not completed yet, you have choice of prime lots, wooded lots, corner lots. It's part of the business when you're building."
Richard Ives, vice president of Trinity Land Development, one of Partridge Creek's managing partners, countered the Moussas' complaints.
Municipalities don't want sidewalks put in before houses are built because construction equipment ruins them, and the developer is paying about half the landscape maintenance costs, Ives said.
Several residents serve as an advisory group until enough houses in the sub are filled to form a homeowners association.
"The developer is responsible for acquiring land, getting approvals, putting in all the infrastructures, any of the amenities, which we've done," he said, explaining that 360 lots in Partridge Creek were sold to five builders who've built 80 houses -- roughly half of what they would've built in previous years.
Now, with new home sales suffering, many builders are reluctant to construct homes without buyers in place.
To spur sales, builders and developers are resorting to creative incentives, such as free landscaping, discounts of thousands of dollars and free upgrades like marble, hardwood floors and high-end appliances.
For people who are among the first to buy in a development, they, like the idle construction crews, stand angry and isolated.
"I did think it'd be more of a community," Waltenspiel said. "There's not much going on. People aren't congregating. ... We had no idea what we'd be getting into."
Craig Koss, president of Kramer-Triad, the company that manages the subdivision, said he still believes Waltenspiel and other Forester Square residents will get what they expected.
Forester Square is "a great community. It's going to be fine. It's going to be a struggle for a while, but it's going to be fine," Koss predicted.
Still, for homeowners like Bea McGinty, the economy is quickly sapping any confidence that life in her condominium complex will get better.
When the 75-year-old grandmother moved back to Michigan from Florida, she bought a condo in Plymouth's Daisy Square -- site unseen -- because of its proximity to shopping, a godsend for someone who doesn't drive and lives in the suburbs.
Since she moved in a year and half ago, McGinty has been bookended by what she considers blight. The field behind her building is bare, though another row of homes was slated for the spot.
"I don't know what's doing with bare fields. There's no grass. It's an eyesore, ugliness," she said. "At least plot it over, make a few paths, plant a few bushes, put a fountain in, a place for kids to play. ... I'm discouraged and disgusted."
McGinty also sees part of the façade of Daisy Manufacturing Co., the historic BB gun maker, that was to be incorporated into the development.
Also visible to McGinty is resident turnover in her building, where the developer rents a few units.
"If I sold my place now, I'd lose $20,000 because of bad sales and the economy," McGinty said.
Livonia real estate agent and lawyer Carol Hainline said she understands some of the frustration of isolated homeowners.
"The problem I see is people are spending half a million on a house and now they have trash around them; I can see why they're upset," Hainline explained. "What can you do? You're buying a lot in a particular place from a builder. They don't give you a guarantee when you're buying that the subdivision will be built."
1 comment:
Some of my friends feels like that too.
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