Sweetwater: an eviction between tensions, fires and neighborhood resistance

The transformation of that place is heartbreaking. It went from being a vibrant neighborhood to a legal and emotional battlefield, where uncertainty, fear and indignation are every day’s bread for those who resist abandoning their homes.

A broken dream

In November, the life of almost 900 families in Li’l Abner turned a turn. Without prior notice, according to many residents, they received the news that the park would permanently close on May 19, 2025.

They were told that the owner, Crei Holdings (also known as Urban Group), planned to transform the land into an affordable housing complex, a school, a health center, a community center and a park. A vision of the future that, for many, became a present nightmare.

The promise of staggered compensation – $ 14,000 for those who move before January 31, $ 7,000 before March 31 and $ 3,000 before April 30 – sounded to many as an attempt to accelerate a forced exodus, an exile of households where some had lived for decades.

About 650 families accepted the treatment, but between 200 and 250 they resist, clinging to the hope of a fairer solution.

Resistance and legal fighting

These families, represented by lawyer David Winker, undertook a legal battle against landowners, the city of Sweetwater and Miami-Dade County.

Collective demand, presented in December, alleges irregularities in the eviction process: lack of adequate notification to the Association of Owners, denial of the right of preference to tenants, and an increase in illegal rental within 90 days after notification.

“The owner is responsible for that. Do you see the city here by enforcing any of these rules?” Winker denounced, after pointing out an alleged negligence in the maintenance of the park and the growing insecurity as arguments to request a relief in the rental payments for the affected residents.

Fires, vandalism and fear

In the midst of this sea of ​​circumstances, on Sunday, March 9, a fire devoured an abandoned mobile house, which was once the home of the polished family.

“This is the place where my daughters and granddaughters,” said Marta Pulido, with the voice broken by emotion, while contemplating the ashes. Her husband, Roberto, denounced the presence of illegal occupies before the fire: “They broke a large window and entered, opening everything.”

This does not seem an isolated incident for the authorities. As the park empties, it has become, according to residents, a magnet for intruders, vandals and criminals.

“There are many people outside who get into these houses,” said Carlos, a young Central American. The homes, previously insured, are now open and vulnerable, according to residents of the area.

Luis de la Paz, who lived in the park until a few weeks ago, paints a bleak picture. “The intense fire there was and the vandalism in the unemployed houses is somewhat worrying. The police barely patrol the streets.”

De La Paz told his own looting experience, with the loss of appliances and even the air conditioning unit, a robbery that, according to him, required several men to carry out.

Angustia and despair, according to De la Paz, have led some residents to be hospitalized. He even mentioned the sudden death of Diego Valdés, a neighbor, attributing him to the “shared pain of seeing our lives destroyed by the greed of owners and politicians.”

Official version

Sweetwater authorities offer a radically different narrative. Álvaro Zabaleta, head of communications of the city, said that “there is no one (Intruders) living in empty houses.”

The spokesman recognized two arrests, but described them as incidents of people looking for “recyclable objects, perhaps copper.” He also highlighted the arrest of a couple for drug use.

Zabaleta insisted that the fire “could have been intentional”, so the investigations were assumed by the Miami-Dade Sheriff’s office, and emphasized that security is “something that the owner of the place has to offer.”

Even so, said the spokesman, “they have been told to the officers of area 1 of the city that during their turn they go through the place, but this is something that the owner has to guarantee hiring our police or an external agency.”

Solutions and skepticism

A couple of months ago, the mayor of Sweetwater, José “Pepe” Díaz, publicly expressed concern for the affected residents and said he had held meetings with the owners, his representatives and the housing director of the Miami-Dade County.

However, these actions are seen with skepticism by some residents, who consider them insufficient and late.

Ana Castaño, a woman in her 60s, said there are rumors that the landowner would have given a final deadline to evict until November. Carlos, the young Central American, also claimed to have heard this rumor.

Diario Las Américas tried to corroborate that information in the office that manages the park. Several people who also sought to perform some management in that place said that “whenever we come, it is closed.” It was approximately 4:30 pm

Broken fraud and promises

Collective lawsuit also brings out fraud allegations. Some residents bought their mobile houses shortly before receiving eviction warnings and claiming that they were not informed about re -urbanization plans.

De la Paz, who retains a certificate of March 2018, denounced that the purchase documents were deceptively marked with a “no” to the question: “Does the owner of the Park Plans have to make changes?”

Nereida, a resident who remains on her property, shared her frustration. “They put some papers at the door. It wasn’t even a letter,” he claimed. “In short, they want to throw us like dogs,” he lamented.

Uncertain future

As the deadline of May 19 is approaching, the future of residents who remain in Li’l Abner is uncertain. The legal battle continues, but the daily reality is of insecurity, anguish and despair.

The case of Li’l Abner transcends Sweetwater borders and can be compared with a mirror or an echo of challenges that many vulnerable communities face: forced displacement and lack of access to affordable housing.

The case of Li’l Abner is not just an eviction. Many consider it a humanitarian crisis, a reflection of cracks in the system, and a call to action to protect people at social and economic disadvantage.

The Mobile Casa Park was 909 household shelter, which represented 20% of the total population of Sweetwater, estimated at approximately 20,000 inhabitants. However, Mayor Díaz considers that the figure could range in about 25,000.

The question that remains in the air is: Who will listen to this call and who will act to prevent stories like this being repeated? The battle for Li’l Abner still seems far from finishing.