The activists will first need to surmount the prohibition on turning a wood-frame house into anything other than a one- or two-family dwelling. In a 1993 analysis of the illegal occupancy problem, researcher Jill Hamberg reported that most other municipalities in the country allow multiple dwellings in wood-frame houses.
“Maybe you can alter some of the codes,” Hamberg says, “if you deal with the fire safety and health conditions. That’s the bottom line.”
To that end, Ahmad and Jamoona have contacted architect Phil Augusta, former commissioner of the City’s Board of Standards and Appeals, which oversees zoning and planning, to work on a fireproof template for the typical Richmond Hill basement.
Augusta’s basic plan, which he believes will cost the average homeowner around $10,000, involves creating fireproof partitions around exposed boilers, replacing old wiring, and installing fire sprinklers and detection devices. Since most basements are accessible only from an interior staircase, owners would also have to install a second exit and staircase leading directly out the side of the house. “All this can be done if people are willing to be a little flexible,” Augusta says.
But any plan to change codes or zoning is far from reality. The major players in Queens--Shulman, City Council Speaker Peter Vallone and Archie Spigner, the chair of the council’s housing committee--oppose sweeping zoning changes.
They do, however, want to give small landlords more breathing room. Shulman has drawn up a City Council bill that would give owners a four-month reprieve from daily fines if they prove that they are making a fair effort to improve safety conditions. Shulman’s office expects the bill to be taken up by the council later this year.
For the city’s Indo-Caribbean community, the concessions are not enough. The issue is fast becoming a clear indication that they don’t have any power in dealing with established political forces.
Ahmad, who has helped coordinate voter registration drives, is also working to create a new Democratic club that he hopes will force local politicians to pay attention to his community. “It’s really our fault, we’re not getting power and letting people get away with persecuting us,” he says. “We’ve got to learn how to fight for power.”
But Nancy Cataldi isn’t thinking about power--she simply wants her neighborhood to become less chaotic, conflicted, and crowded. She wants Queens to remain Queens. And, in 1998, that may be the most radical position of all.
“We would like to see families move into the houses in their original states,” says Nancy Cataldi. “We want to see it a little bit like what it was like at the beginning of the century.”
