Even though he lives just a few dozen yards off Peters Creek Parkway and Business 40 — not to mention right behind a strip club that does a brisk business into the wee early morning hours — Jesse Williams has no trouble sleeping through the night.
Funny how spending more nights than he cares to remember outdoors, in homeless shelters or in abandoned cars can change a man's sleeping habits — and his outlook.
"The dream was to be able to just cook a pork chop or some eggs and bacon for myself in my own place whenever we wanted," Williams said from the comfort of the living room in a rooming house he shares with two other men. "It doesn't sound like much, but it's a big thing."
These days, though, Williams has a worry of another sort. He's concerned that a change in zoning ordinances governing rooming houses scheduled to take effect today could force him back out on the street.
"I'm not sure what's going to happen," he said. "I'm not a troublemaker. I just want to be left alone."
Adverse effects
On paper, the revisions to zoning ordinances approved by the Winston-Salem City Council and the Forsyth County Board of Commissioners almost four years ago don't seem that bad.
They're simply measures intended to improve quality of life by tightening what sorts of houses are OK in areas zoned for single-family use: Rooming houses in single-family zones must be converted. No more than four unrelated adults age 18 and older can live in the same residence.
But sometimes even the best-intentioned acts of government can have adverse and unintended consequences.
And that could well be the case with rooming houses, which are best described as single-family homes with individual bedrooms that have separate locks.
A man (or woman) typically rents a room from a landlord for $100 a week, which usually covers electricity, water, heat and perhaps basic cable. Kitchens, bathrooms and living rooms are shared.
Predictably, the restrictions are making landlords nervous that they'll be unable to rent their houses.
Right or wrong, a lot of rooming-house owners view themselves as providing a service — private, transitional housing that's affordable to people who struggle on the margins.
"Some of the people I rent to now could be out on the street if they have to find somewhere that's not considered a 'rooming house,' " said Jim Crawford, a landlord who owns several rooming houses.
Home sweet home
The truth of the matter is, nobody really knows what effect the restrictions will have. Some landlords might just take the locks off individual rooms. And policing them will be a nightmare. City-county inspectors are already overtaxed and generally investigate only complaints. Nobody has time to hunt down violators.
In an attempt to clarify what may come, the zoning department has scheduled meetings this week and next to answer questions for nervous property owners and tenants.
Hearing that doesn't allay any of Williams' worst fears that he'll be forced to leave the rooming house where he's lived for the past seven years. As things stand now, he can find only part-time work, three hours a day cleaning offices. Finding a room, he says, helped him break a 10-year cycle of homelessness. He's pleased that he managed to pull himself up and keep a roof over his head through good and bad times.
He's filled a hallway in the rooming house with Carolina Tar Heels knickknacks. A cabinet in the shared living room is filled with photos of loved ones and an array of angel figurines. The furniture in common areas may be a tad shopworn, but it's well taken care of.
It's a rooming house, and technically illegal as of today, but it is home to Williams and he's proud of it.
"I still have hopes and dreams and goals," Williams said. "I'd like a place of my own. But for now, I'm just trying to hold on to what I got."
Email
Facebook
Google
Twitter
Favorites
More
Advertisement