‘It’s hell’: life under the American mobile home king who calls himself a ‘grave dancer’

Dpersonal Yonder manufactured home playground expenses on its own as “totally relaxing”. Situated a couple of kilometers coming from the beach fronts of the Tampa bay Gulf region, the 362-unit area touts many facilities for its own individuals including a club, swimming pool, jacuzzi, shuffleboard courtrooms as well as cozy weather condition.

These are what pulled Colleen Gartner, 51, that transferred to the playground coming from Pennsylvania in Nov 2020 after being actually injected retired life as a result of a special needs. Like several Americans residing in the north, she longed for escaping cool winters months as well as a retired life someplace cozy.

“I boiled down right here, considered properties, adored the style of the playground, obtained as well as relocated,” she claimed. “Anticipating considering that my youngsters were actually increased as well as I was actually solitary for the very first time in my lifestyle, I believed I was actually mosting likely to resign as well as appreciate the sunlight for the amount of times, years, years, I have actually left behind.”

She as well as 2 others right now experience expulsion coming from the playground.

Homeowners like Gartner whine their goals have actually been actually rushed due to the playground’s billionaire proprietor. They state they experience walks in rental payment as well as charges, while facilities like the swimming pool as well as club are actually periodically finalized, there are actually couple of ramps or even various other cottages for the senior, as well as residential property servicing has actually been actually disregarded.

The guy they criticize is actually Sam Zell, the residential property magnate that is actually the largest landlord of manufactured homes in the United States. He types themself as a “grave professional dancer” for his company practice of procuring affected properties, as well as functions as leader of the panel of Equity Way of life Feature (ELS), which has Down Yonder as well as greater than 400 various other manufactured home playgrounds throughout the United States. Homeowners at various other ELS residential properties throughout the nation inform the Guardian that they have actually brought up comparable issues.

Colleen Gartner prepares at her residence at Down Yonder manufactured home playground in Largo, Fla. Gartner performs a predetermined revenue as she cannot work due spinal issues that she’s had multiple surgeries for.

“We’re withholding our lot rent because it’s the only voice we have and it’s the only thing Sam Zell pays attention to: money,” Gartner said. And she plans to keep doing it until Zell and ELS “do something for us that they’re contracted to do, which is to take care of us. That’s why we moved here. It’s why we put our lives and safety in their hands. They told us they had our back. They don’t.”

Equity Lifestyle Properties denied all allegations of lack of maintenance and upkeep, and characterizations of its property managers as harassing residents. It has filed eviction notices against the three residents at Down Yonder for failure to pay rent. “We are confident that the community is in full compliance of the Florida Mobile Home Act,” which mandates that landlords must take good care of their properties, it said.

For the 10.5 million Americans who live in mobile home parks, properties like Down Yonder promise affordability, especially in high-rent areas such as Tampa, and a greater sense of permanence than renting.

The average sale price of a new mobile home as of January 2023 was $128,300, compared with the average sale price of a house of $400,600 in February 2022. On top of this, mobile home owners typically pay to lease the land – typically for under $1,000 a month – on which their property sits.

This is especially appealing to one demographic: about a third of mobile home residents are seniors, and they tend to be lower-income than other older Americans.

woman in a grey t-shirt on the left and a clubhouse on the right.
Colleen Gartner and a few other people who live at Down Yonder have decided to stop paying their lot rent until issues at the mobile home park are addressed and fixed. They claim the property isn’t being maintained.

Sam Zell has an estimated net worth of about $6bn. He is one of the largest landlords of US rental properties full stop, with a huge real estate portfolio spread among affiliates under Equity Group Investments, his investment firm.

The 81-year-old Chicago native, who was not made available for an interview by ELS, began managing rental properties while in college at the University of Michigan, and started his real estate investment firm shortly after graduating.

In a 2012 conference call, Zell said he liked “the oligopoly nature of our business”, in reference to limited competition in the mobile home industry. Zell self-coined the term “grave dancer”. As a rebuttal, tenants and tenant advocates have labeled him a “grandma gouger” over rent increases on the tenants, often older, at his parks.

Two women looking at a laptop
Diana Giffin, left, and Colleen Gartner prepare the agenda for the HOA meeting at Down Yonder.

Tenant advocates and activists have also criticized Zell for pouring money into opposing legislation for tenant protections, including $5.3m against a proposition that aimed to enact rent control in California. (It was defeated.)

“The way that we’ve historically always looked at Sam Zell is he really was a harbinger of doom in terms of the manufactured housing sector,” said Kevin Borden, executive director of Manufactured Housing Action, a national organization for mobile home residents. He attributed the founding of the organization in 2010 as a response to numerous complaints from residents at ELS communities. “His, for lack of a better term, leadership in the investment space in the manufactured housing sector then created the trend that we are truly struggling with today.”

Borden linked Zell to the influx of Wall Street investment into manufactured home communities. Owing to his success, Zell does indeed appear to have inspired others to investin mobile homes. There are even “boot camps” for entrepreneurs who would like to follow in his footsteps.

But none has drawn as much opposition as Zell himself.


Several Down Yonder residents told me about their problems with their landlord recently, on a typical sunny day in Florida. Gartner has a light blue caravan home on the corner a few blocks into the park, where she lives with her service dog, Munfred, a small gray poodle mix. Although Down Yonder is technically intended for over-55s, 20% of residents – including Gartner – are permitted to be younger.

“I’m disabled,” she said. “I’ve had 13 spinal surgeries. My income is never going to increase. Currently, I pay $900 a month for my house to sit here and get nothing for it,” she said, referring to the lack of maintenance, upkeep and state of amenities.

Dilapidated looking gates
The back gate at Down Yonder is held up by zip ties. This is just one of the many issues residents want fixed.

This year, residents received a 7.5% rent hike after rents rising an average of 4.4% over the past five years. They are now being charged separately for water and sewage, which used to be included with the lot rent.

In November, more than 200 residents sent a notarized petition to ELS opposing the cost increases. Gartner herself recently received a $2,500 estimate for cutting trees on her property, though residents argue this should be the park’s responsibility as it owns them.

Gartner and other residents shared dozens of photos documenting issues of disrepair, neglect and flooding.

Clogged storm drains cause flooding that traps residents whenever there is significant rain. They describe frequent water shutoffs due to leaks, crumbling roads and a lack of upkeep of amenities and common areas. Seniors face difficulties entering the clubhouse as there are no access ramps and automatic doors, while restrooms and pool areas are not easily accessible by wheelchair, all of which they say violates the Americans with Disabilities Act. Drug users utilize the park’s common areas, they add, which ELS attributes to the park’s close proximity to unhoused encampments.

Like Gartner, Dagmar Benedik, 70, has been hit with an eviction notice for refusing to pay rent, alleging the park is violating the state law requiring landlords to maintain properties. Benedik moved to the park five years ago from Canada, where she had emigrated from Czechoslovakia.

Woman with a towel on her head filling up a pot at the tap
Diana Giffin fills pots with water before the water is turned off at Down Yonder at 10am for approximately four hours to address plumbing issues.

“Services have gone from bearable to insanely unbearable with cheap people who don’t do anything for us. And we really have no recourse,” she said. “We are rebels, we’re not going to roll over.”

The rising costs are particularly hard for residents on fixed incomes relying on social security benefits, she said. The average social security benefit is about $1,782 per month, and lot rents now account for about half of that. Benedik deals with flooding and sand in her tap water and collects multiple bags of leaf litter on her property each week because the park does not, though it is responsible for maintenance of the grounds.

Like Gartner, Diana Giffin, the third rent holdout, was enticed to move to Florida to get out of the cold weather, and to make a fresh start after a divorce. She left New York in May 2022 with her developmentally disabled son, Nicholas.

Upon moving in, Giffin said she noticed issues with the pool such as the lack of a Hoyer lift for seniors with movement impairments, and a leaking air conditioner that posed a fall hazard by the entrance of the pool. She also criticized the recent rent hike and water fees.

Diana Giffin uses bottled water to clean her hand after cutting up an avocado at her home.
Diana Giffin uses bottled water to clean her hand after slicing an avocado at her home.

“I’m still trying to make changes and help the elderly and help the disabled in our community. If we don’t do this, they’re just being taken advantage of,” said Giffin. “It’s hell with all that’s transpired.”

Ruzhdi Leka, 73, and Zyhrije Leka, 67, moved into Down Yonder from New York in March 2022. According to their daughter, Iba, who spoke for her parents as their native language is Albanian and they are not fluent in English, they’ve been harassed by property management since they moved into the park.

“Anytime that they had anything to say, they usually would do it when I wasn’t around, and the encounters were always aimed at my father because they knew about my father’s condition,” said Iba. (Ruzhdi is recovering from a stroke and has Alzheimer’s.) “I’ve seen my father cry here at this place far more than ever in my life.”

Diana Giffin watches as her son, Nicholas, gives himself insulin at their home in Down Yonder.
Diana Giffin watches as her son, Nicholas, injects himself with insulin at their home in Down Yonder.

Staff have shouted at her father for planting flowers in his yard, which is not permitted, she said, and has refused to assist with maintenance issues, such as a dilapidated home foundation that has caused her parents to fall.

“My mom survived two different wars, and she said during the wars they had a place to run to evacuate, but here, this is our home, where do we go? It broke my heart completely,” added Leka. “I am terrified to leave my parents here.”

The Down Yonder property manager referred a request for comment to ELS, which denied allegations of harassment by management and disputed the residents’ characterizations of conditions at the park.

A spokesperson said in an email: “Management enjoys a professional relationship with residents, including Ms Giffin, Ms Gartner and Ms Benedik. Management has, on occasion, needed to deliver notices to these residents regarding various issues. We regret that any resident may interpret the delivery of routine notices to be ‘harassment’.”

three people gathered on a sofa on the left and mobile homes seen from the outside on the right.
Ruzhdi Leka,73, and Zyhrije Leka, 67, had their daughter, Iba Leka, move in with them after Ruzhdi experienced harassment and bullying from the park management staff for planting flowers in his garden. He and his family were told they couldn’t plant flowers because the lot belongs to the mobile home park. However, the mobile home park won’t take care of the tree that is leaning over their home.

ELS also denied maintenance complaints, adding that drainage issues were the responsibility of municipal authorities and were being addressed. Residents are responsible for maintaining landscaping on their home sites, the company said. It acknowledged that it now charges separately for water and sewage, but said it reduced rents before tacking on these additional costs.

The firm added that it was renovating clubhouse restrooms and addressing termite damage in the clubhouse, and the work will be completed later this year.


The problems at Down Yonder sound familiar to other tenants of Zell-affiliated companies. There have been numerous reports over the years of these firms hiking rents and fees at mobile home parks, significantly affecting seniors on fixed incomes.

“They have an investment approach to communities designed to be as extractive of profit as possible. Significant rent increases, reduction in staffing by transitioning as much as possible from on-site staff to regional staff, shuttering amenities, reduction in maintenance,” said Dave Anderson, executive director of the National Manufactured Home Owners Association.

“Their strategy seems to be entirely centered around profit maximizing, raising the rent as much as possible and looking at every category at which there are expenses and keep[ing] them down.”

three people in a living room, one sleeping on a couch.
Dagmar Benedik, left, talks to Mike Keith as Nicholas Hallock takes a nap on the couch at Colleen Gartner’s home.

In 2014, a jury awarded a record $111m to residents of a mobile trailer park in San Jose, California, owned by ELS for its failure to maintain the park. The lawsuit argued that property managers were incentivized through a bonus structure to forgo maintenance. Amid appeals, the case was later settled for just under $10m.

In 2019, a Denver ABC News affiliate reported on residents at Holiday Hills mobile home park facing significant hikes in rent and fees, including a 77-year-old resident who had to return to work to cover the increases.

And in May 2022, a court in Washington DC ordered Equity Residential Management, an apartment property corporation belonging to Zell’s investment group, to pay nearly $2m to victims of illegal rent hikes.

Two women talking outside a mobile home
Dagmar Benedik speaks to a neighbor outside their homes. Benedik moved to the mobile home park in 2017 and has experienced continuous issues with the park. She sometimes rakes up to 10 bags of leaves a week.

Other suits are pending. Residents at Heritage Plantation mobile home park in Vero Beach, Florida, filed a lawsuit over allegations the company had refused to maintain and repair the property. A class-action lawsuit has been filed in California against Equity Residential for overcharging for rental background checks.

There have also been allegations of harassment by property managers. At Bonanza Village, a mobile home park owned by ELS in Las Vegas, 37 residents signed a petition alleging harassment by the property manager, including claims of unfair and targeted enforcement of park rules.

One resident, Christine Needham, claimed the manager harassed her to the point that she sold her mobile home for a fraction of its cost, leaving the park she lived in for 25 years in May 2022.

“It’s taken me almost a year to feel safe again in my house,” said Needham. “I now live eight miles north and I’m still scared. I may’t go back to visit my friends in the park because I’m afraid of him and he’s threatened people who visited me.”

Needham claimed that he began threatening to evict her for feeding feral cats in the park, criticized her for having a Black Lives Matter sign on her property, and that he would park his truck outside her house early in the mornings while he spoke on the phone, which she believed was an attempt to intimidate her. (A friend of Needham’s, who asked to remain anonymous as they are a current resident and fear retaliation, also describes having observed this.) Needham’s attempts to raise the complaints with the district manager went nowhere, she said.

“It’s certainly not a very nice mobile home park and it was going downhill,” said Needham, referring to rising rents and poorly maintained amenities. “They get their money and they ruin lives. I was homeless as a kid, so that house meant everything to me.”

Dagmar Benedik looks at the activity board in the library at the Manor House at Down Yonder.
Dagmar Benedik looks at the activity board in the library at the manor house at Down Yonder.

The property manager could not be contacted for comment. ELS said he had resigned.

A current resident at Bonanza Village who asked to remain anonymous for fear of retaliation, said the departure of the property manager was very recent.

“Instead of a manager, he was more of a dictator, because we’re under his rules,” they said.

ELS denied Needham’s claims and allegations of harassment. It said in an email: “Ms Needham chose to sell her home in the community in June 2022 and relocated. Management was not involved in the sale and we have no knowledge of the selling price of her home. The only interaction management had with Ms Needham during the last nine months of her residency was the delivery of three notices, each of which was handled professionally and in accordance with local laws.”

People play bingo inside the manor house.
People play bingo inside the manor house. The park management keeps the thermostat for the air conditioning under lock and key so residents cannot change the temperature.

ELS attributed the petition against the property manager to residents being displeased after being cited for violations discovered in an annual community inspection. “Enforcing community rules and regulations improves the curb appeal of the community and helps to maintain the value of homes for homeowners in the community,” a spokesperson said.


Over 1,500 miles away from Down Yonder is another ELS mobile home park, the Cimarron mobile home community in Lake Elmo, Minnesota. It may not have the same temperate weather as Tampa Bay, but the families who live there say it has offered an affordable way to rent or own a home. They are attempting to take their fight with ELS to the next level to address rental increases and what they say has been degrading conditions of the park.

Homeowner Brey Mafi said amenities had been reduced or closed off since the pandemic, that flooding is a regular occurrence in the park, snow removal through the winter isn’t properly conducted and the community isn’t properly lit at night. She claimed the streets are crumbling with potholes and rarely cleaned.

Two women laughing together
Dagmar Benedik and Colleen Gartner spend time together. The whole park floods after heavy rainstorms. Many residents, including Benedik, often find themselves trapped in their homes after a bad rainstorm.

She provided a PowerPoint presentation with dozens of photos outlining disrepair at the mobile park. Park management, she added, had responded dismissively to resident complaints.

“Sam Zell is doing well,” said Mafi, who lives with her husband and daughter. “They’re getting shareholder dividends paid out. There’s growth, yet we can’t get some lights here just to walk the streets safely.”

But while the amenities have been closed off and maintenance lags, lot rent fees have regularly been increased, including a 7.75% increase this year, twice as high as the year prior. Lot rents are now over $900 a month for many residents.

Mafi serves on the residents association at the park, which she said has retained legal counsel, because residents have made numerous complaints to the state attorney general’s office about problems at the mobile home park. The Minnesota attorney general’s office did not confirm or deny any current investigation.

Nicholas Hallock rides around Down Yonder in his golf cart.
Nicholas Hallock rides around Down Yonder in his golf cart.

John Murphy has lived in Cimarron since 2005 and for most of that time the property management left residents alone. But recently property managers began enforcing policies such as parking restrictions that result in residents getting their cars towed and having to pay towing fees. Murphy and others consider this a form of harassment. ELS has claimed the parking enforcement is not a new rule and is for emergency vehicle access.

“They’re just a large corporation that buys this place up, they’re pulling money out of it, they’re not reinvesting much back into it, and it’s making us feel like we’re just a bunch of milk cows rather than customers,” said Murphy. “They don’t talk to the residents, and when they do it’s usually ugly or dictating.”

ELS denied claims of poor maintenance and complaints about management, claiming the park was currently in year two of a three-year project to repave the roads at Cimarron Park and that potholes are filled every spring. The company denied any drainage issues, but noted a preventive maintenance plan to clear stormwater channels at the property possessed been implemented. It claimed that amenities such as the golf course were open and maintained on a regular basis and that the playground was being replaced.

A woman walks past a for sale sign for a mobile home at Down Yonder mobile home park, seen through a fence.
A woman walks past a ‘for sale’ sign for a mobile home at Down Yonder.

“Our team make it a priority to regularly meet with residents and discuss any issues they have, including rental payment increases,” the company said. “Increases and rent levels are in line with those of comparable housing options in the area,” added a spokesperson.

Residents hope the attorney general will prove ELS wrong.

“It’s sickening. It’s just misery and people will tell me all the time, I feel like I’m in prison here,” said Mafi. “What did I do to pay money to these people every month to deserve this? It is by far and large the worst consumer experience I possess ever had in my life. They’re slumlords as well as there’s no way around it.”

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