Burning Issues, Part I

(For an intro to Diane, click here.  This is part I of a compelling 2-part story that will run today.  Part II will run this afternoon.  Leigh)

The mobile home I filmed last week had just burned down. Fortunately no one was hurt, and the owner had insurance. But she lost everything because of an electrical malfunction with her washer.

I suppose that’s why I was a little more than unnerved when visiting a trailer in Deming, NM to film an update interview with a mom in our HEAR US documentary, “On the Edge,” focusing on families during and after homelessness.

Sandra and her daughter moved into this hunk of junk, HUD “approved” Section 8 housing about a year ago after their previous crappy place (former cheap motel rooms converted into “apartments,” also HUD housing) proved too dangerous for her teenage daughter. This government-inspected trailer gets $400 a month rent for the owner. To be generous, it’s barely worth $200. Sandra lives there rent-free because she doesn’t have an income.

I listened to this tired, frustrated mother explain how she can’t find a job in Deming, a wind-swept town an hour west of Las Cruces, NM. Perhaps it’s because of her age (late 40s) or her missing teeth (all of them), or her health issues (too many to list), or the local economy; but even I’d have a hard time finding ANY job here. The nearest town of any size is over 50 miles, which makes job-hunting a tad frustrating. She’s painfully aware of her daughter’s struggles with poverty-influenced peer pressures. It hurts both of them to be so, well, flat-out broke, with little chance of improvement.

This former waitress then showed me around her humble abode. It’s a worn, standard single-wide, 2-bedroom, in a dusty, almost third-world trailer park.

True, she and her daughter have a roof over their heads, although it leaks, and they have electricity, water and heat. She sold her furniture to her landlady to pay her utilities bills to avoid shut-off, which would invalidate her HUD Section 8 certificate. They have no TV. The truck stop where she waitressed closed in December, forcing Sandra onto welfare, which for now gives her about $350 in food stamps, plus a “lavish” $400 for utilities which have tripled (over $200 a month), toiletries, toilet paper, essentials for her teenager, and car-related expenses.

The hallway ceiling is water-damaged where the rooftop-mounted air conditioning unit (not a luxury in southern New Mexico) leaks, providing entry for sooty drafts when the frequent winds kick up. The bedroom’s ceiling has water damage. Broken windows and unsealed window frames invite piles of wind-blown dust; disgusting dark brown carpeting, despite Sandra’s repeated shampooing, round out the “features” of this $400 a month abode.

But what unnerved me were the electrical problems. Outlets fall out of the wall, wiring problems, flickering lights, all things that my previous career as a property inspector would immediately signal serious problems. She told of a neighbor whose circuit breaker fell out of its casing. She shoved it back in.

The trailer that burned down was caused by an electrical fire.

(All photos by author.)