Legal battles leave home a derelict eyesore
The house at 19 Burnbrook Crescent was once a solitary property in the woods, with an indoor swimming pool and a backyard that tapered off into a ravine and creek, under a sky of pines.
And then it became a rental. And then it became a grow-op, busted by police with battering rams and guns. And then, so full of mould, it was only a basement apartment. And then it sat empty, for more than 1,500 days.
And now it’s home to raccoons, a kind of wildlife Hilton, with giant holes in the roof, and collapsing bricks, torn tarpaper, broken windows and weeds that slap the knees. It does not help that temporary fencing has put the property in a cage, where a dusty piano can be seen in the “living room” of dead space.
“One of the first things people ask when they come over is, ‘Why do you live beside a dump?’ ” said Ruth Rayman, who has lived next door with her husband, Keith Anderson, for 25 years, and has vivid memories of the grow-up bust, about 15 years ago.
“There isn’t a day that goes by when we’re outside cutting the lawn or in the garden when someone doesn’t come up and ask, ‘What’s going on?’ ”
Well, it’s complicated, so tangled even Bay Ward Coun. Theresa Kavanagh is throwing her hands up, hoping some media coverage might break a legal logjam of the worst kind, the type only three levels of government can create.
“It’s a hazard and we’re just going around in circles. Nobody is doing anything.”
The tops of the waves: the house was owned by Gordon J. Simpson, a house builder and developer who is credited with creating all 18 properties on Burnbrook, which is near Corkstown Road and Carling Avenue, close to Andrew Haydon Park.
He lived in the house for many years while working in real estate development, apparently not always with sparkling results. (He was one of the early developers of what is now Country Place, along the Rideau River.) Neighbours say he moved out of the house, roughly in 2000, after which a succession of tenants (good and bad) occupied the bungalow. The state of repair began to deteriorate and, critically, the property taxes fell in arrears.
In 2012, it was seized by the sheriff for unpaid taxes, a debt that, with add-ons, now totals close to $125,000. The sheriff tried to sell the property by public auction but the new owner had to take on any liens, outstanding taxes and “other encumbrances.”
Big problem: the Canada Revenue Agency had a massive lien on the house for debts on Simpson’s numbered company, a debt that Kavanagh’s office has been told is in the $800,000 range.
Another big problem: Simpson fell into ill health and died in 2017, badly indebted. It is unclear whether any progress has been made with settling the estate, which also has involvement from Ontario’s Public Guardian and Trustee.
“We need CRA to step up. We need them to co-operate,” said Kavanagh, who is regularly asked about the property. “They’re going to take a loss. We’re going to take a loss.”
This is not a brand new problem for the city.
In 2018, Mayor Jim Watson wrote a letter to Revenue Minister Diane Lebouthillier appealing for help, citing “an increasing number” of tax-default properties that CRA had slapped liens on, making a city-forced sale impossible.
“These liens have typically been placed on title of the property with no subsequent action to collect the account and the liens are typically greater than five or more years old,” the mayor wrote, adding “in many cases, the CRA liens are greater than the value of the property.”
With no CRA action, the city is stuck: 19 Burnbrook, put plainly, is unsellable with that much debt attached.
So the neighbours sit and wait, sometimes worry. Some nights, they see trespassers at 19, or what appears to be headlamps inside. They watch the raccoons, worry about property value, the jungle of weeds, the growing hazard inside.
“I wouldn’t go in there without a HAZMAT suit,” said Anderson.
Ottawa’s bylaw officers have been to the property many times, cutting the weeds and putting up the fence. Demolition is certainly being discussed, but Kavanagh said the roughly $100,000 cost is money the city will never recover.
Things are so convoluted that neither Simpson’s former lawyer nor his son Shane, one of four children, were in a position to know what is happening with the property, or who might be responsible for the estate.
“I have nothing to do, at all, with my dad’s business dealings,” said Simpson, “and nothing to do with his estate.”
He said he has apologized several times to neighbours on Burnbrook over the condition of the house, which he called a “terrible blemish” on a fine-looking street. “To have this broken tooth among the beautiful homes that were built is just sad.”
True. But the government’s reaction? (CRA responded Friday that two days was not enough time to provide any answers, none of which would deal specifically with this address.)
Pathetic.