Rainahja Wray-Johnson doesn't let her 3-year-old daughter play in the kitchen.
It's not the leaky gas pipe behind the stove or the faulty wiring in the electric oven or the missing smoke detectors that concern her most.
The 22-year-old mother looks up at a bulging bubble of black mold hanging from the ceiling. She expects the bathtub above it to come crashing down any day now.
Wray-Johnson said that's what happened in the last house she rented from Gary Thomas, a landlord known to many of Akron's poorest residents.
"The tub ended up in the dining room," she said.
In the South Akron apartment where Wray-Johnson and her family now live, the front door is plywood. Downspouts are disconnected. Moss grows heavy on the roof. Holes in the drywall expose water pipes and electrical wires.
But there are fewer burglaries here than where she last lived. And for that, she feels a bit safer.
A winding trail of state and county documents indicate that the rental unit is owned by a company Thomas created in 2008. For local residents and housing advocates, it's another problem in a neighborhood where residents struggle daily to meet their basic needs. And there are dozens more like it clustered in Akron's poorest neighborhoods — all tied to Thomas, county officials say.
But soon those ties could be severed — and 47 renters like Wray-Johnson could go from renting to owning for a fraction of the cost of buying a new home.
Summit County is cracking down on Thomas, who lives in Medina, by initiating foreclosure proceedings against 22 companies they say he and associates use to control 73 properties with a collective bill of $756,298 in back taxes and fees.
If successful, the Summit County Fiscal Office will work with the Summit County Land Bank to sell the properties to current tenants at a substantially discounted rate. The idea is that they will have a vested interest in not only maintaining the property tax bill but the property itself, making repairs that their landlord has neglected for years.
From renting to owning
"I can't put money into something that I don't own because they could walk in here any day and tell me to get out," said Stephen Long, a mechanic who fixes old cars with his sons out of a garage on E. Exchange St.
His shop is among the foreclosed properties. It was certified as tax delinquent a decade ago. And it's fallen into disrepair over the years.
Long moved in about six years ago to help a relative. Four years later, he said, he realized Thomas wasn't paying the tax bill. So the mechanic stopped paying rent.
"If I end up with the building, I could create jobs," said Long. "It means my life."
Thomas would not comment for this story.
In Goodyear Heights, Charles "Scooter" Hughey bought a home off Thomas two years ago, unaware of the $7,500 in back taxes that came with it. The 61-year-old Marine veteran, disabled in a motorcycle accident, says he'll sell his prized Harley-Davidson to get out from under the debt Thomas sold him.
"Let him live in one of these shacks," said Hughey, who continues to pay Thomas for a land contract that was never recorded with the county. Hughey speaks his mind. With pins, bolts and cables keeping his legs together, he dispensed with pleasantries long ago.
"Chuck's a hard guy to deal with, but he's fair," Gladys, his wife, said of her husband.
"That's all I wanted was to be treated fair," Hughey said.
Surprised by tax filing
The land bank and fiscal office mailed out a thick packet of tax documents, foreclosure filings and letters explaining what's next for the 48 people and businesses that occupy Thomas' properties.
It caught Wray-Johnson by surprise. She had no idea the property taxes were being ignored. She only knew that the county was foreclosing. And foreclosure sounds like eviction.
So, she called her landlord.
"He said it's fake, don't worry about it," Wray-Johnson said of her phone conversation with Thomas, who she said took the opportunity to talk about raising the rent.
Wray-Johnson has become accustomed to extra fees and charges, and little in return.
Wray-Johnson, a home health aide, said she smells gas coming from the stove, which has a broken ignitor. So she keeps the valve closed. When she plugs in the electric cord, the oven heats up, automatically and uncontrollably.
There are no smoke detectors or fire alarms in the house, only empty plastic brackets screwed to the ceilings. She's asked for them, she said, along with a new front door and other repairs.
Still, she pays $600 rent, in cash, every ninth day of every month. The handwritten receipts Ross Thomas, Gary's son, gives her indicate she's already late for the next month's rent. So she pays $75 extra when asked for it.
Before she could move away from the rash of burglaries that plagued her old place, Wray-Johnson said she had to pay $500 to cover an outstanding water bill, which by law is the responsibility of the property owner. She also remembers a $150 one-time fee to use the busted stovetop oven left by the previous tenant.
