Memphis rent – Memphis Flyer

A few months ago, I wrote a Last Word column in this paper, titled “The Rent is Too Damn High.” At the time, the landlord of the house I’d been renting was showing the property to investors. They’d come into my personal space, take photographs of said space with my belongings in it, and leave as quickly as they came, with me wondering, “Will they buy this house and kick me out to flip it? Will they take over the property and lease and raise my rent?” With uncertainty looming like a dark cloud, I began to search the market for rentals to gain some sense of control over the situation, and a stark realization came to light: The rent in Memphis is too damn high.

I quickly learned that I’d been paying significantly less than what I’d be shelling out monthly moving into another rental in the city. The numbers shocked me, as I hadn’t paid much attention to the rising costs over the last couple years, being in place for as long as I had. According to a June 2022 Apartment List report, the average rent for a two-bedroom apartment in Memphis stands at $1,174, an 11.6 percent increase over last year — and a 29.5 percent increase from the June 2020 average of $906. The most recent data from Dwellsy (February 2022) showed the median rent listed for a single-family home here sitting around $1,700, 55 percent higher than the same time last year — adding a shocking $605 to the monthly bill. Data from the 2020 United States Census Bureau showed median incomes in Memphis at $26,006 for individuals and $41,864 for households. Do you think those, too, have seen such sharp increases? In the last two years, how many of you received a 55 percent raise? Or even 11 percent?

As you can imagine, the prospect of this potential additional hit to my bank account had me stressed to the max. I suddenly shifted gears … it didn’t make sense to rent, not in this market, not anymore, ever maybe. Buying would be the way to go. I’d soon have as big a wake-up call in this arena as well. Zillow’s Home Value Index, which “only includes the middle price tier of homes,” shows the typical home value in Memphis at the end of June 2022 was $153,894 — a 21 percent increase over last year. That number in the June 2020 report was $107,000.

To be honest, I couldn’t find any decent homes near $150,000. And if I were to daydream about one even $100k more than that, it’d be contingent or pending about as soon as it was listed. The market was “hot,” despite rising mortgage rates (which, we touch on in this issue’s finance column, “Mortgage Math”) — and not in any way ideal for a buyer. So I did what any panic-prone, emotional decision-maker would do: I put an offer on the home I already lived in. If investors wanted it, shouldn’t I? The whole reason I was in this mess in the first place was because I didn’t want strangers in my space or to be forced to unexpectedly move or endure an exorbitant rent hike. And since another appointment had been made for the landlord’s “old friend” to come check the place out, I offered a little more than I thought I should — to really seal the deal. All I could think of was a line from one of my favorite Portlandia skits: “Get these people out of my house, Ron!” (Fittingly, the landlord’s name was Ron.)

Things became a blur pretty quickly after that. While I did get a good price, depending on who you ask, I bought at a horrible time for interest rates. And every problem the ancient home has now sticks out like a streaker in Walmart. It’s a too-small fixer-upper that hasn’t been properly cared for the 18 years my landlord owned it. So … perhaps I’m feeling some regrets. But hey, no one can come in unless I want them to. Take that!

With so much talk about low inventory — for rentals and homes for sale — and the cost of *gestures broadly at everything* increasing exponentially, almost in the blink of an eye, what are folks to do? I know I’m not the only one who’s felt this type of pain recently. I’ve had friends get the boot after the rental they lived in was sold to investors. I’ve heard of many home-buyers paying way over asking price.

For now, I’ve gotten off that ride. But it’s all still spinning out of control. Whatever the hell is going on, can someone slow it down?

We all just want a place to call home.

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Have you looked at the cost of housing lately? Hopefully you’re lucky enough to already be a homeowner or to be locked into a rental contract at a decent price — because it’s a damn nightmare out there.

Recently, I had a scare. My landlord called to say he was sending someone to look at the house my boyfriend and I rent — he’d been approached by an investor who was interested in buying. I’ve lived in Normal Station for more than a decade and was forced out of my last rental under similar circumstances. An investor bought the house, kicked us out, slapped a coat of paint on it, and then raised the rent by $400 a month.

Clearly renting isn’t ideal; there are tons of benefits to owning your own home — primarily, no one can kick you out at the drop of a dime. I’ve done my fair share of house-hunting, saved money for a down payment, and kept an eye on the market — and watched as prices climbed, well beyond what they were five years ago, even one year ago. Sure, interest rates are low, but how is anyone justifying the inflated price tags?

Anyhow, I did what a person facing an unexpected boot from their home would do: downloaded housing apps, browsed the internet, and drove up and down what felt like every street in every nearby neighborhood, taking notes and making calls. It can’t be that hard to find a place to live, right? Yes, it can. Properties that popped up on an app would be “unavailable” within 24 hours. As soon as I sent an email or made a call to tour a home, they were already off the market. (The same goes for houses for sale, despite the outrageous list prices, but that’s another conversation.)

At present, there’s “a housing shortage,” according to some property management companies’ listings. And what’s out there is mostly sitting between $1,500 and $2,000 a month. I understand that in the college area, the expectation is for a group of young adults to go in together, split the rent, and share the space. But what about those of us who don’t want to pile in with roommates? I have a partner and three small dogs. We make decent money and could spend most of it on rent, I reckon, but I can’t help but wonder about the folks out there who don’t and can’t. What about single parents? What about people working minimum-wage jobs? What about those who work for tips or don’t make enough on paper to qualify? From the ’burbs to across the state line in Little Town, Mississippi, you’d be hard-pressed to find a decent rental home below $1,500. How is this sustainable? Investors and corporations are buying up our area and pricing us out.

This isn’t a new problem, but it’s clearly a worsening one. Flyer news editor Toby Sells reported on this in December 2019 in “Dream Denied: Corporations Buying Up Memphis Homes, Destabilizing Neighborhoods,” writing, “Some experts call these corporations ‘vultures,’ saying they use tactics comparable to the mafia. Across the country, they’re scooping up houses in low-income neighborhoods — sometimes by the hundreds — wringing what profits they can from them.”

Sells also reported that in 2018, 65 percent of Memphis’ single-family homes were rented, not owner-occupied, and “Investor groups and large corporations own[ed] 95,604 of those properties; more than 40 percent of those owners [were] from outside of Tennessee.”

While more current statistics are not available following the effects of the Covid crisis, one can assume these numbers have only grown. I have seen the proof in my neighborhood. Investors have bought up many of the houses to flip and profit. They’ve been given fresh paint, a mulched flower bed, and a high price tag. A two-bedroom home on my street recently sold to investors for $135,000, got a minor facelift, and went back on the market not a month later for $210,000.

In my case, thankfully, my landlord declined the investor’s offer. For now, I’m staying put in a reasonably priced rental while I continue to plan for homeownership. My immediate fear of getting booted or being allowed to stay under new ownership with an exorbitant monthly increase has subsided. But that was a close one. And there are many people out there with no life rafts on the sinking Memphis housing ship.

I know times are changing. Memphis has always been an attractive city for those looking to find affordable housing, but that dream is dying with every property owner willing to take the highest cash offer from an investor looking to buy out our city, effectively contributing to us becoming a nation of renters forced to overpay to live.
Shara Clark is managing editor of the Flyer.