Displacement threat looms over Sweetwater as trailer park’s eviction day passes
A statue of the Virgin of Guadalupe and her gentle ceramic smile encouraged Santos Varela as he strained to lower himself into a chair beneath the shrine abutting his home’s patio. Amid a terminal cancer diagnosis and a pending eviction, he’s found himself seeking her protection, perhaps recently more than ever.
In November, Varela, 71, and 3,000 other residents of Sweetwater’s Li’l Abner Mobile Home Park learned that their 50-year-old community would shutter on May 19, spelling displacement for 15% of the city’s population.
Li’l Abner’s owner, CREI Holdings, decided to build an affordable housing complex where the mobile homes currently stand, per Urban Group, the management company overseeing the park’s conversion. The move continues a statewide trend of trailer parks closing to make way for development.
Mobile home owners who left before a Jan. 31 deadline could collect a $14,000 buyout from the park’s ownership. Most took the offer.
But for Varela and the other holdouts — roughly two dozen of whom stood defiantly on the side of West Flagler Street on Monday, protesting their potentially imminent removal under the punishing mid-morning sun — that deal was unworkable, both in time and money. They needed more of each before re-entering the Miami rental market, the second least affordable of any major metro area in the country.
They’ve vowed to stay as they await a ruling in the class action lawsuit they filed against the park’s owner, alleging wrongful eviction.
Those who remained at Li’l Abner had been paying rent and were legally entitled to live in the park through Monday. Now that their eviction date has come and gone, some, including Varela, fear their nebulous legal status could spell their forced removal at any time, despite having nowhere else to go.
The park ownership hasn’t told the residents or the Miami Herald what its plan for clearing the land will be.
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Varela and his wife, Yolanda López, purchased their trailer in 2007.
“It was a joy because we found a place,” Varela recalled, smiling as he regarded the beige facade of his home. The couple thought they had purchased their forever home. “But no,” López cut in flatly before quickly turning away.
Compounding the family’s housing anxieties, Varela was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer in May 2023. Between her husband’s illness and the eviction, López, 62, said the family’s stress has ballooned since November. Piling on are abounding “what ifs” now that their lease has technically ended.
“We have no plan, if [the park ownership] comes tomorrow with the police and removes us by force,” Varela said. “I feel the stress in my chest,” he added, his eyes glazing as they settled on the mound of gnarled metal that had once been the home of his next-door neighbor, one of the many owners who left in January to qualify for the $14,000 buyout.
Those who left later were offered $7,000 to vacate by April and $3,000 to relocate by May. The remaining holdouts will get nothing.
None of the offers worked for Varela, who gestured in explanation toward Li’l Abner II, a recently constructed apartment complex on the property billed as “affordable housing.” There, 1-bed, 1-baths start at $2,194 per month. Another such complex on the property, Li’l Abner III, advertises workforce and affordable senior housing that will be open as early as next year.
But “affordable” is relative. Paying more than $2,000 a month for rent is out of the question for many of the park’s residents, especially those on fixed incomes. According to data from the U.S. Census Bureau, the median Li’l Abner household earns $3,666 per month, and an estimated 30% of the park’s population lives in poverty, more than double the percentage of people living at or below the poverty line across Miami-Dade.
After paying first month’s rent, last month’s rent, a security deposit and moving fees, López wondered aloud how she and Varela, whose combined monthly income from Social Security is just over $1,200, were expected to get by.
“With $14,000 you can barely make it, what, three months?” she estimated.
It was a paltry offer, said López, given that they had purchased their mobile home in 2007 for more than $40,000. Invested entirely in their trailer — which is cemented into the ground and would cost six figures to move — their personal wealth has evaporated since the park’s closure was announced in November.
And while finding a new place to live is top of mind, the more pressing question López, Varela and the other remaining residents are asking is: When will we officially lose our homes?
No one seems to have the answer. The park ownership has not responded to requests for comment on the specifics of its eviction plan, nor has it communicated that information to residents.
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As it stands, roughly 185 of the mobile home owners are participating in a class action lawsuit against CREI Holdings, alleging wrongful eviction. In court, CREI has argued that it not only abided by the law but also exceeded its requirements by offering relocation incentives.
The park’s residents are hoping for more money — $50,000, plus legal expenses, for each home owner — and more time to find somewhere else to live.
But without the former, the question of finding a new home may be moot for the many Li’l Abner residents lacking liquid assets.
“If you’re going to look, you need to have money in your hand,” said López.
“We’re waiting to see if the lawyer can help us with the case,” Varela interjected, adding with a sigh: “We just hope everything works out all right.”
This story was produced with financial support from supporters including The Green Family Foundation Trust and Ken O’Keefe, in partnership with Journalism Funding Partners. The Miami Herald maintains full editorial control of this work.
This story was originally published May 20, 2025 at 1:54 PM.
