Old homes got new life, but not everyone is happy
It didn’t take long for Shawna Fredericks to be sold on Station East.
The East Baltimore redevelopment, she was told, aimed to put young black professionals like her into renovated rowhouses near Johns Hopkins Hospital without displacing longtime residents. It was leveraging millions in public and private funds to turn vacant buildings into livable homes at reasonable prices. Along the way, it was fixing up the rest of the neighborhood with facade repairs and new parks.
Other Hopkins employees had already bought into the effort with the help of “Vacants to Value” grants from the city,
“Live Near Your Work” grants from Hopkins and historic preservation tax credits from the state. If she, too, took the leap, she could stop renting and put down roots.
“We’re all young, we’re all minorities, we’re all professionals — and it was an opportunity to have a slice of the pie, to all become homeowners,” Fredericks said, as several neighbors nodded in agreement. “It was an opportunity to be a part of a transition in a positive way.”
The optimism was short-lived.
Fredericks is among more than a dozen residents who allege that shoddy construction has left them with major structural problems in their homes, including leaking roofs and flooding basements. Some also fault the development team’s use of a valuable state tax credit to finance the project, which they say shortchanged homebuyers.
“If I knew what I know now back then, I definitely would have chosen … someplace else,” said Jeremy Brown, a 33-year-old Hopkins nurse who has dealt with major roof leaks since paying $206,400 for his house in 2017.
For its part, the development team — which includes general contractor Edgemont Builders, investor Ted Rouse and the Historic East Baltimore Community Action Coalition — has acknowledged some problems. The developers have made some fixes and promised more. But they also have pushed back against much of the criticism.
Jake Wittenberg, owner of Edgemont Builders, said some problems are to be expected when renovating homes built a generation ago. He stressed that Edgemont has offered to make repairs. But some residents are refusing the work, saying they don’t trust the company.
“Edgemont Builders wants an opportunity to fix any fundamental problem that exists in their home,” Wittenberg said. “We take a lot of pride in our work. We are proud of this project.”
Rouse said he wants to “bend over backwards to do more than would typically be done in the private sector” to resolve the issues.
Not in dispute is that the redevelopment just east of Hopkins has helped transform the surrounding neighborhood for the better. Janice Jacobs Hudson, 62, who grew up there and is president of the Ashland Avenue Neighborhood Association, has only praise for the developers and the work they’ve done.
“The only way you can understand is to have lived through it,” said Hudson, whose family owns several properties that got exterior repairs through the project. The community, she said, “has come a mighty long way.”
The project has drawn notice far beyond East Baltimore. Backed by various government entities and by major institutions like Hopkins and the Abell Foundation, it is in many ways a showcase: a creative pairing of public and private funding to turn a neighborhood that was nearly 80% vacant into one full of young professionals, grassy parks and homes valued at far more than was imaginable just a few years ago.
Some homes in Station East are selling for upward of $300,000, compared with a median home price of just $74,000 in 2017. The development team pieced together the