This First Person column is the experience of Paula Hudson-Lunn, who lives in Nelson, B.C. For more information about CBC’s First Person stories, please see the FAQ.
As a renter for nearly 50 years, I’ve moved a lot. I’ve crossed the country five times and lived in four provinces. In my 20s, moving was about going to school, following a lover or work. Back then, moving was on my terms. Rentals were plentiful and my needs were flexible.
Things changed when I became a mother. With four kids and a dog, cheap rentals along busy roadways or dodgy neighbourhoods were no longer suitable. Safety became a priority as did proximity to neighbourhood amenities, such as schools, playgrounds and daycares. At the same time as my rental needs expanded, my choices in Calgary narrowed. Apartments generally didn’t allow dogs. Landlords of single homes and multi-unit houses, concerned about the impact of children and pets on their properties, seemingly preferred other rental applicants.
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It took a while, but we managed to rent an older home in a perfect community. When the landlord sold the house, giving us 30 days’ notice to vacate, I came face to face with how insecure and vulnerable the renting life can be.
Luckily, we qualified just in time to move into a federally subsidized housing co-operative, and I raised my children to adulthood there.
As an empty nester in my mid-50s, I loaded what I hoped would be my final U-Haul and headed back west. I found a wonderful little house in Nelson, B.C., that was built in 1910 and had been a rental for more than four decades. Its walls were uninsulated, its windows were still the original single-pane, wavy glass and the basement, with a regularly flooding underground stream, best suited a Stephen King novel. And yet, it has a certain charm. It’s surrounded by a lovely yard, ornate door frame casings and a lion’s paw bathtub. The view from the bedroom was of mountain vistas. A local family owned this building and a number of other rental properties as part of a long-term investment plan. Typically, rentals like this are pretty secure.
“I love it,” I told the landlady, and I’ve lived here the past 17 years. I thought I would be here until I died.
It appears I may have thought wrong.
A recent email from my landlord advised me the family had sold one of their houses and is looking at selling more next year, starting with ones that “don’t generate sufficient rent.” Having lived here this long, with the province’s rent control laws in effect, I know my days are numbered.
Here I am, at 71, looking for housing in a 0.6 per cent rental vacancy market. Nelson is a highly desirable tourist town where real estate values have soared and long-term rentals have disappeared into more lucrative Airbnb-type vacation rentals.
I haven’t faced something like this since that landlord in Calgary sold the house out from under me 40 years ago. I can’t underscore how different my situation is. Having lived in the same place this long, provincial rent controls have protected me from market rates. Even so, I’ve had to supplement my pension with part-time income to afford my rent. In the current housing situation, even if I can find something similar, I’ll be looking at a minimum of a 75 per cent increase in rent. A smaller or less suitable place will still cost me more than I can afford. I may have to find full-time work in what should be my retirement years.
As a senior, I also have other considerations. Rentals up the mountains could be dangerous for me in the ice and snow. Second-floor suites have a lot of stairs, and while I’m fine now, my future mobility is not guaranteed. Basement suites, often damp and dark, won’t support my mental well-being. I have to weigh my access to grocery stores and medical assistance as well as the impact of social isolation if I move to the outskirts of town. If I have to leave Nelson entirely, I’ll lose my family doctor in a time of national doctor shortages.
I don’t know what I’ll do when circumstances force me to leave my home. I’ve thought about putting all my belongings into storage and trying to live in a camper van while I search for housing. My 73-year-old friend lived out of his pick-up truck for three years before finding something he could afford. He ended up in the hospital several times. I’ve considered becoming a roommate or a house-sitter or just couch-surfing. I’ve thought about standing down on Nelson’s main street with a sign saying “senior renter needs affordable housing.”
For now, like I did for my friend, I’m submitting applications to go on waiting lists for seniors, subsidized or co-op housing. I’m asking everyone I know to keep me in mind if they hear of anything. Unlike so many renters I’ve been reading about in the news, at least I’ve been given time to try to find a solution.
I’m hoping this will be the last U-Haul I pack.
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