In Kansas, too many people like my evicted 77-year-old neighbor have nowhere to go | Opinion
I met my former neighbor, whom I’ll call “T,” in 2014, when I moved into the apartment next to hers in Overland Park. Our places shared a landing, so she was happy to learn that I loved cats. This was a required characteristic for a neighbor of T’s. She and her feline weren’t strangers, frequently arriving at my door in the early evening and bounding in to visit.
T was then in her late 60s, past the traditional retirement age, but she still worked 40 hours a week. She would eventually reduce her hours to part-time as her late 60s became mid-70s.
As she aged, she remained active but had less stamina and was significantly more forgetful. Work was necessary, though, not just for her mental well-being but also for her bottom line. She couldn’t make ends meet without at least 16 to 20 hours a week to supplement her Social Security.
As often happens with age, health issues complicated that plan. The year she turned 76, three hospitalizations within months impaired her ability to hold down even part-time employment, even with forgiving employers. She developed profound fatigue and forgetfulness.
It was taking time to get better, she would tell me, but she was sure she was making progress. Meantime, she couldn’t make ends meet. Friends helped where they could, but she fell behind. She sometimes forgot to pay her rent or forgot whether she had paid.
A 10-year tenant who had always been in good standing, T received reminders from apartment management. But that patience had limits. After a few months of erratic remittance, the complex didn’t renew her lease. Put on a month-by-month payment plan, she failed for another three months to meet her rent obligations on time.
In March of this year, a sheriff showed up at T’s door midweek around lunchtime. He was there to evict her. He told her to pack some things. He would wait.
Had she any warning that the eviction was imminent? She had commented that management was “hinting” at eviction. She clearly didn’t comprehend her situation’s seriousness.
How does the law in Johnson County allow for a 77-year-old woman with health issues to be treated with such disregard, to be summarily kicked to the curb?
T felt ill. A friend visiting her that eviction day took her to the emergency room. But after a night’s stay, T was discharged. The hospital couldn’t keep her. She went to a hotel.
She lasted less than a week as a nomad. She tried to negotiate an agreement with the lawyer representing the apartment complex. He was very nice, she told me, but she sounded a little discouraged. T seemed determined to find another job. It wasn’t easy being homeless, she said.
A few days weren’t enough time to come up with a plan. Six days after the sheriff showed her the door, the hotel staff found her and called 911. She died later that day.
I’ve read stories about other states where landlords must surmount hurdles to get rid of trespassing tenants. Yet, in Kansas, it seems too easy to turn out the ill and the elderly.
The apartment complex that hurried her eviction has few vacancies. A visit to the website shows floor plan after floor plan with wait lists. Only one floor plan, T’s, is available to rent.
T’s neighbor is taking care of her cat. Now an elderly feline, he sometimes goes out onto the landing and sits in front of T’s former door. It’s a tragedy that T isn’t there to let him in.
Deborah Hirsch is a semi-retired writer and copy editor and Kansas City area native. She has a degree in speech communication from Portland State University in Portland, Oregon.
