On August 1st, 2006, the Province ran a cover photo of the Marie Gomez building under the headline “HOUSE OF HORRORS.” The article portrayed the Downtown Eastside (DTES) residence as a “crack house” where “female addicts are tortured and their heads shaved for not paying drug debts.” Since then, in the hands of other horror-hungry papers, the building has cultivated a reputation as the worst residence on the Downtown Eastside.

The current reality of Marie Gomez, however, is significantly different than what the available press indicates. Indeed, in June, Marie Gomez tenants banded together and initiated a massive clean-up effort to rescue not only their building, but their reputation. Joined by friends and family of the DTES community, tenants have performed necessary upkeep and displayed a strong desire to combat in-house violence.

The effort is particularly impressive given that the residence’s final closure is imminent. Due to deep rotting in the walls, “you can’t make a case for repairing this building,” says Kim Kerr, executive director of the Downtown Eastside Residents Association (DERA), who own and operate Marie Gomez. “We’re never going to overcome what’s behind the walls of this building.” Some tenants complain of respiratory problems due to black mould, and the estimated cost of repairing the building is $2.5 million.

Marie Gomez will close for good at midnight on October 31st, and by then, roughly 50 tenants need to be relocated. Due to the “House of Horrors” reputation, however, tenants are having a tough time finding landlords who will take them in. “The reputation of Marie Gomez is the greatest hindrance to relocating people,” says Kerr, “and we’re not going to put them on the street, which means we’re in for a hard few months.”

The Province feature is the most infamous example of Marie Gomez’s bad press. Yet even publications sympathetic to the DTES cause have paid greater attention to its ugly side, perpetuating a negative image of tenants whose access to future housing depends upon their public portrayal. As recently as August of this year, for example, OnlyMagazine.ca published an article describing Marie Gomez as “overrun with drug dealers, violence, crime and disease,” citing a source who generalised the tenant population as “crack heads.”

“A lot of tenants get pissed off about the reputation,” says Kerr. “They don’t like what they read. They don’t believe it to be true, and they live here.”

The truly monumental clean-up effort suggests that a very different kind of tenant occupies Marie Gomez. Rick Kenmuir, forty-seven years old, was the first tenant to move back into Marie Gomez when, in 2003, DERA reopened it for those classified “hard to house.” One of his jobs is to empty out vacant suites and board them up to prevent further occupation. Over the past seven weeks, Kenmuir says, “We’ve thrown out about 20,000 pounds of garbage.” Thanks to tenants like him, the once-littered hallways are finally clean.

Mike Kanouse is a neighbour of the Marie Gomez building on Alexander Street. As a friend of the tenants, he comes regularly to lend a hand. The tenants have initiated a major fumigation process to ensure they don’t bring unwanted pests to their future homes. Among other things, Kanouse helps detect and dispose of the infested wood. When asked why he labours for a building that isn’t his, Kanouse smiles. “It keeps you out of trouble.”

“We have about six outside neighbours who hang out and help,” says Sabrina Driuna, an on-site worker and advocate with DERA. She’s amazed at the level of commitment shown by Marie Gomez residents. “These tenants have walked a long way to get where they are today. They’ve done all of the work. They’ve brought this place back.”

Since the clean-up effort was initiated, the tenants have given the building’s electrical system a complete overhaul, reinstalled hallway lights, fixed holes in the walls, replaced door handles, and brought the building up to fire code standards, to name just a few of the 
improvements.

When certain tenants were unable to help due to health issues, drug abuse, or simply old age, their neighbours came in and cleaned for them. “The effort has become very family oriented,” says Driuna. “People have made friends in the house, when before everyone was like a stranger.”

Of course, it’s impossible to claim that Marie Gomez has completely eradicated its problems. Located on the corner of Alexander Street and Princess Drive, the residence is an ideal location for drug trafficking and prostitution. Drug dealers remain a presence in the building, and substance abuse is rampant. As a result, emergency service is called to Marie Gomez hundreds of times a year, and 20-hour-a-day security monitoring is necessary to maintain a minimum level of safety.

But for press to focus on the building’s criminal issues is to marginalise the many tenants of Marie Gomez who are proud to call it home. Indeed, it’s the tenants themselves who have shown the only willingness to rescue the building from squalor. With only a small budget for maintenance and no government agency prepared to lend aid, the immense task of upkeep has fallen upon them, and they’ve picked up the challenge, says Driuna, “because they want to show the landlords out there that they care about their homes and respect their 
landlords.”

Where these tenants will end up come November is currently DERA’s primary concern. It’s Driuna’s task to find homes for all the tenants paying rent, and she’s even taken it upon herself to relocate Marie Gomez’s squatters.

Kim Kerr feels confident that the relocation effort will be successful, and in a surprising move, he praises BC Housing’s handling of the situation. “They’ve worked really hard with us on this building,” he says. “They appreciate the predicament we’re in.” Adds Driuna, “In this case, BC Housing and the City have been very mature about [the subject of] poverty.”

Unfortunately for the majority of residents, their new homes will be a step back. Marie Gomez offers tenants self-contained apartments (SCA), with a kitchen and washroom, for $325. “I can’t say that everyone will end up in a SCA, because they simply don’t exist out there,” says Kerr. The new homes will likely be hotel units, with a reduced level of autonomy and an increased rent.

Some tenants are critical of DERA’s handling of Marie Gomez, believing that more could have been done to save their home. “It’s possible that five years ago something drastic could have been done,” Kerr admits, “but we’ve done the best we can. We’ve suffered a lot to keep it open, when it would’ve been easy to close it down.”

DERA hasn’t paid the mortgage since 2003, because otherwise they would be unable to staff the building and perform maintenance. “Realistically, we need three people per shift, not just one,” says Kerr. “Otherwise, you can’t assure the safety people need.”

Which is one further reason why the tenants have decided to rescue their building from the grassroots. In a city where trained and willing staff are scarce, and aid non-existent, the tenants have resolved that the best way to help is to help themselves.

When Marie Gomez closes on Hallowe’en night, the legacy its tenants want to leave behind is not a tragic one. After many years of the worst conditions in Vancouver, they’re using the remaining months to show the city that they love their home and that, rather than a house to be reviled, it’s a house to be missed.

And with the destruction of their efforts on the horizon, was the clean-up a waste? “No,” Rick Kenmuir says simply, “of course not.” This is the spirit they’ve chosen to bring to their future homes.