Pubdate: Sun, 07 May 2006 Source: Tampa Tribune (FL) Copyright: 2006 The Tribune Co. Contact: http://www.tbo.com/news/opinion/submissionform.htm Website: http://www.tampatrib.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/446 Author: John W. Allman BURTON FIGHTS POLICY, PEOPLE WHO TOOK HER FROM HER HOME TAMPA - Connie Burton raises her arms and shimmies in her seat. She couldn't be happier. She has just learned how much she has cost the Tampa Housing Authority in legal fees. "That was their choice," she said, sitting in a shaded thicket on Virginia Avenue, across the street from Robles Park Village, the public housing property where she lived from 1987 to 2005, the last six of those spent battling eviction. "I'm a reasonable person." A reasonable person might have thrown in the towel. Not Burton. She chose to fight, and keep fighting. The housing authority has spent $472,000 defending not only its right to evict her, but also the legality of the federal policy used to discipline millions of public housing residents nationwide. For each legal decision against her, Burton has filed an appeal. It hasn't cost her a dime except gas money. The money the housing authority has spent likely would have gone toward public programs designed to help other housing residents in Tampa, the same people whom Burton claims she is trying to empower. Is she taking a stand or belaboring a long-moot point? Does anyone care anymore? At times, during a series of conversations with Burton, 50, who left Robles Park last year and splits her time staying with friends in Tampa and St. Petersburg, she seems more interested in muddying the name of Tampa's head housing honcho than advancing the rights of other low-income residents. The same could be said of Jerome Ryans, president and chief executive director of Tampa's authority. When he talks about Burton, he talks. And talks. What he says sounds like an admonition. She refused to go along. She chose to take a different path. Although he says he is concerned about the amount of money spent, he fervently defends the need to spend it. He says officials at the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development have urged him to pursue the case, even though those same officials have refused to pony up even a portion of the cost. Two strong personalities. No clear victor. No end in sight. "If she had worked with us we wouldn't have this problem," Ryans said during a recent interview. "Connie could be in public housing today, but she chose to go a different route." No Deal Burton's troubles are well-documented. In April 1999, her son Narada, then 19, was arrested during a federal sting at Robles Park, charged with possession of marijuana and intent to distribute within 1,000 feet of a school, convicted and sent to prison. Burton said she did not know he was involved in drugs. The authority pushed to evict, however, using a federal policy called "One Strike and You're Out," designed to target violent criminals and drug dealers, as well as residents whose family or friends break the law while on housing property. One Strike's most controversial aspect is also the heart of Burton's case. Leaseholders can be evicted by proxy if someone connected to them or their unit is caught or arrested with drugs or committing a crime on housing property. There are loopholes. One Strike doesn't necessarily mean "one strike," and many residents receive a second chance. Several other tenants whose sons also were arrested in the April 1999 sting, and who also faced eviction, chose to settle. They agreed to stipulations, including barring their children from living with them in public housing or entering their apartments within three years of a drug-related conviction. Not Burton. She stayed defiant, convinced she was being singled out, targeted by a policy that isn't legal and persecuted by Ryans because of her criticism of him on radio and in person. She alleged that the authority had forced her to put her son on the lease before his arrest. The authority has denied that claim. "People who have been arrested and went to jail, those individuals are still here," she said, pointing at Robles Park as passers-by stop to say hello or wave. "I was put out by virtue of somebody else's action." Naturally, the other side sees it another way. "We're not going to let anyone come to our property and sell dope. We would go after any family like that," said Wence Cunningham, Tampa's director of public housing. "She didn't try to trespass him. If it was a one-time deal, she got him off the property and dealt with him like we talked about, it would be a different story." The Fight Burton filed a federal lawsuit challenging the constitutionality of HUD's One Strike policy. A U.S. district judge ruled in 2000 that it was constitutional. The U.S. Supreme Court agreed. Burton complained to HUD about the Tampa office. A November 2000 reply from the agency's Miami office curtly dismissed her claims and suggested she wanted special treatment. Burton had been Robles Park's resident council president for years and was well-regarded for being vocal and getting things done. "Tenant leaders must not be given favorable treatment and must conform to the same standards as all other residents," wrote Karen Cato-Turner, director of HUD's Florida office in Miami. The housing authority took Burton toHillsborough County Court in 2002 to secure an eviction, but a jury verdict in favor of the authority was tossed by a judge because of a sleeping juror. A second trial was scheduled. Amid mounting bills and intense publicity, the authority offered a deal before the second trial: a coveted Section 8 voucher that would allow Burton to move virtually anywhere in Tampa. The housing authority hasn't accepted new applicants for vouchers since February 2002. The average wait is currently 16 months, and more than 2,300 people remain on the list. Not Burton. She refused. "I felt what Jerome was trying to do was remove me from the people," she said. "I just looked at taking a Section 8 voucher would be me abandoning the issue here. I felt it would have been betrayal." Burton lost the second trial, too. Some might have given up. Not Burton. She appealed. Ryans and the authority's lawyer, Ricardo L. Gilmore, defend Tampa's mounting legal fees by saying such challenges leave them no choice, not when the integrity of a federal policy is at stake, and particularly not when it's a policy that so many other agencies rely on. "All the eyes of every housing authority in the country were on us," Gilmore said. HUD, in an April 24 letter to Ryans, declined to reimburse any portion of Tampa's legal costs. Change Of Heart? Burton left Robles Park in 2005. She vacated Apartment 3721 and today spends much of her time volunteering for the International People's Democratic Uhuru Movement, which is based in St. Petersburg. She helps organize people to attend events and speaks about issues facing black people. Her son Narada is still in jail. Two other children have stayed mostly trouble-free. She denounces drugs and talks about the impact they have had on her family. She misses her public housing neighborhood. "For some people, public housing has such a negative overtone, but I always saw it as a community where I grew as a woman, I nurtured my children, I developed wonderful friendships with people," she said. The people seem to miss her, too. When Burton returned to Robles Park recently to talk about her experience, a number of residents stopped to say hello. Housing maintenance employees came up to tell her the complex just isn't the same. "This community has always been intimidated by the establishment, and that is what Jerome Ryans represents. Hopefully it will serve as an example," she said. "He will think long and hard on moving on a case against anybody with half the spirit I've got." Defiant Burton. The thorn in the side. A day after being interviewed, she called to offer more. The woman who rejected a plum settlement, who now is filing her own appeals, who openly admits she doesn't expect to win the legal fight, is ready to make a deal. She wants to negotiate with Ryans on her terms. "We'll see what happens as I continue going on with the process," she said. "We ain't through by a long shot." - --- MAP posted-by: Derek