Not long after St. Paul Mayor Kaohly Her announced the city would shut down the Pig’s Eye Park encampment, citing health and safety concerns, Marty Johnson knew what was coming.

He had been through this before. Still, when the morning of Aug. 5 arrived, he stood in the middle of the encampment in disbelief.

Johnson toed the patch of dirt where he and his longtime partner Chalsea Diver used to share a tent, then scanned an emptied out spot where a neighbor in a wheelchair could “barely get around and out.”

“That’s what I don’t understand,” Johnson said. “How come he couldn’t get into a home right away and he’s still in this mess?”

The last Johnson heard, that man ended up at another encampment, about five miles away near Shepard Road and hidden in the woods near the Mississippi River. It’s where Johnson planned to go, too, and where an influx of residents, with no other plan, ultimately moved as a result of Pig’s Eye getting shut down.

In the weeks leading up to that closure, Assistant Mayor Cedrick Baker said the city was committed to making sure that "if anybody needs to be inside, they can be inside.” But only four recently displaced Pig’s Eye residents are known to have slept in shelter the night after it closed, according to a Ramsey County spokesperson and Union Gospel Mission Twin Cities. An estimated 100-200 people had been living at Pig’s Eye.

The majority, including Johnson and Diver, did not get indoors. The couple, like so many encampment residents, had needs that can't be immediately addressed by shelters — so despite the risks that accompany living outside, they saw no better option while awaiting a more permanent spot inside.

It’s also unclear how much shelter was available that night.

Johnson planned to go to the Shepard encampment as soon as his ride returned. Diver was already there with the first of their belongings. She had hitched a ride with a volunteer who promised to come back for him. But because Johnson didn’t have a cell phone, he had no way of knowing how much longer he would be left behind to watch the old camp wither.

So while he waited, he walked their dog Twin around the perimeter of the shrinking camp, taking it all in.

“Half of us people have been out here for so long,” he said. “It’s just, where do we go and where do we start?”

Johnson and Diver had been together for 12 years, going in and out of job and housing instability — a shifting path detoured by struggles with drug addiction and poverty, but always with the companionship of one another.

The first time Johnson and Diver ended up at a big encampment was in 2025, after they got evicted from a supportive housing apartment for families. It was a subsidized apartment for sober living.

The couple said they were blamed for a domestic fight in the hallway that they had nothing to do with, and were at odds with the landlord who wouldn’t fix poor conditions at their home.

They were ultimately evicted for owing less than $500 in missed rent, setting back the progress they had made to stay together with their daughters, who are now 9 and 10 years old.

After that, their kids went to live with his sister, and the couple landed at an encampment at Jackson Street and Maryland Avenue, before it got cleared out after a deadly shooting. They tried to stay with his sister and her boyfriend for a while, but the two bedroom apartment wasn’t a good fit for six people. That’s when the couple landed at Pig’s Eye.

Soon after, a woman with RADIAS Health who came by the camp offered them help finding housing, he said. But she told them she couldn’t guarantee anything. They had to wait.

“Here goes that list again,” he said. “Everybody keeps saying a list, but nobody knows anything about it. We’re either at the top of the list or the middle of the list or the bottom of the list. We don’t know.”

The “wait list” is the coordinated entry list. It’s for those trying to exit homelessness and find housing that often includes additional support, like mental health care or treatment for substance use disorders.

There are currently 2,668 individuals and families on the waitlist.

In the days leading up to the clearing, Johnson saw someone who appeared to work for the county and asked them again about housing, but they told him they weren’t able to do anything about that and gave him a location downtown to visit.

“I’m always hoping something comes up,” Johnson said.

On the day of the encampment clearing, it hadn’t.

‘Why are we all here still then?’

While Johnson waited for his ride, Assistant Mayor Cedrick Baker acknowledged to reporters that many were headed to the Shepard camp. He said the city was “giving them the options of the shelters that are available and that they have access to.”

“We want to make sure that they understand all of the options that they have, and we also know that there will be some individuals that will just not take us up on our offer,” he said, adding they would continue to try and connect with people.

Johnson later laughed at Baker’s suggestion. He said no one had offered him shelter.

“Why are we all here still then? That’s what I would ask him,” he said. “Unless this is what they’re calling shelters out here.”

How much shelter space was available the Wednesday of the clearings is unclear. When MPR News called the county’s shelter hotline, an employee said they were unable to see the numbers as they usually could, due to the encampment closure that day. Later, a county spokesperson told MPR News to ask the Wilder Foundation, who redirected MPR News back to the county. The city did not respond to a request for specific numbers before the publication of this story.

However, there were at least 20 beds available at Union Gospel Mission, one of St. Paul’s three adult emergency shelters, according to Kelly Larson, a marketing specialist at the Mission.

Those beds were for men only, did not allow pets, did not have a space for safe substance use, and could only grant each person a single locker to keep their belongings.

For Johnson and Diver, those requirements meant it wasn’t an option.

From one encampment to another

By mid-afternoon the day of the Pig’s Eye encampment clearing, the population at the Shepard encampment had more than doubled, and would continue to increase over the coming days. A month earlier, about 30-40 people had lived there.

In a previously unoccupied section of the woods, Diver, Johnson’s “other half,” looped twine around a tree to hang rain-soaked clothes to dry. Diver wanted to lay down, but there was so much more to do. She hadn’t slept the night before, instead making sure everything was ready for the Pig’s Eye volunteers to start shuttling before sun-up.

“I’ve been up moving, moving, moving,” she said.

Next, they would have to retrieve another load of belongings from the entrance to the Shepard camp and finish setting up their tent. Better yet, as she finished the laundry, shouts echoed off a hill in the distance.

“Oh, great,” she said. “More fighting.”

Everyone was on edge, she said. There was the sudden influx into a camp that already had its own social order, then the leftover tension from the morning’s clearing. There was also the fear of being uprooted again, with murmurs across the camp of when that might happen (St. Paul officials said they planned to give residents notice but had yet to set a date).

Diver had a feeling the instability would only strain people more.

“It’s just going to drive the homeless into chaos to where people already don’t like us for one reason,” she said. “It’s just going to drive us to be that person that they don’t like.”

Diver already hated what people assumed about her, she said. This wasn’t how she wanted to live. She had OCD and always felt compelled to keep things clean — which wasn’t exactly the easiest setup for being homeless. She kept hand-sanitizer within easy reach in her backpack, and the dirt ground swept perfectly smooth.

But until she could have her own place, emergency shelters wouldn’t work either. Most shelters separate by gender and she needed to stay by Johnson’s side. He was always there to alleviate her PTSD and her anxiety. They both had ADHD and navigated it together.

Twelve years ago, they had met through a mutual friend when they both lived on the Fond Du Lac reservation and worked at a casino. They had been attached ever since, and though they weren’t legally married, she was “the wifey,” to him. They had their ups and downs, and the extra instability had percolated into more disagreements than ever before, Johnson said.

“But at the end of the day, we’re still right there with each other,” he said.

And he would never leave her. He considered returning to treatment for his drug addiction, but he couldn’t find anywhere that accepted couples. He once got partway through a treatment program, before quitting to be with her.

“That’s the one thing I’m always thinking about. It’s like, if I do this, what’s going to happen with her?”

He was planning on asking the outreach workers who came through the encampments if they knew of anywhere that might take them both. He wanted to be free of the drug addiction, but it felt impossible to just quit otherwise. Going without felt like getting hit by a truck, he said.

And it helped cover up decades of trauma and pain, like was the case for many people out there, he said. From a young age, life got real quick, and the hurdles never seemed to relent. At one point, he seemed bound for college basketball, but that was another lifetime away.

He said he grew up getting beat up by different family members. His mom and stepdad were drug users who would leave the house for days on end, forcing Johnson and his sisters to grow up fast. By the time he was 21, a neighbor friend had him hooked on harder stuff.

Johnson wanted to keep his daughters protected from that kind of life. When they would come down to Pig’s Eye to visit, he would play with them in the parking lot, but made sure they stayed away from the rows of tents. That wasn’t a life they needed to see, he said.

There were many specifics they didn’t know, “But they know mommy and daddy are trying to get a place right now.”

Once that happens, he said he hoped more would fall into place.

Still, he had a way of bringing light into even the roughest of days, and a natural warmth about him. Perhaps that was why people gravitated to him and Diver.

“Hey, who all remembers Jeepers Creepers? The movie Jeepers Creepers!” he yelled out, stepping away from his unpacking for a moment.

He pointed toward another campsite in the distance. A wide-brimmed hat rested atop a tarp, draped ominously over a branch like the monster in the 2001 movie. He and Diver recited a scene, ad-libbing where they forgot the words, until it was time to gather their last load of belongings.

The work wasn’t over yet.

‘Until we have to move again’

The end of the road leading toward the Shepard encampment had the shuffle of college move-in. Volunteers helped new residents unload trucks and cars, while moving wagons rattled nonstop. A single St. Paul police car stayed parked, but allowed people to settle.

The last of Diver and Johnson’s belongings baked in the sun. Between the apartment eviction and the first sweep, they had lost most of their belongings, like the beads Diver used for her art and the shoes she had collected for years. So what they could hold onto felt especially precious.

It was another reason shelter wouldn’t have worked for them. They wouldn’t have been able to keep all of it. Johnson said at least this time the city gave them time to grab everything before they left — a pleasant surprise.

Near their belongings, an older man with a full head of white hair offered the couple his help. They each lugged heavy bags and cushions over a set of train tracks, then organized the items on a baby carriage and wagon, which they yanked through shifting sand, then down a series of slanting dirt paths.

They took a longer route to avoid passing a bigger dog, but Twin had his own ideas for where he wanted to go.

“Hold on, buddy. Hold on. Hold on, please,” Johnson said to a barking Twin.

They reoriented themselves, re-situated the balancing act, and kept going. Diver hurt herself holding a wooden bench over her shoulder.

“I just messed up my arm!” she exclaimed.

Johnson stopped.

“You know I can’t do anything until I figure out if you’re OK.”

When they finally traversed the bumpy trails, past tents with new neighbors and others they recognized from Pig’s Eye, they dropped their belongings.

It was the first time Diver had been able to properly sit down since the day before.

She slowly tugged off her shoes.

“So much for brand new socks,” she said, peeling the damp, once-white socks off her aching feet.

They looked forward to a full night's sleep, without the daily wake-up call of a train horn blaring as it passed by the Pig’s Eye encampment, and they predicted they would hear less sirens at night.

Down here, tucked away in the woods, it was quieter — almost too quiet for what they were accustomed to. Twin seemed to like the trees and the space. He was already calmer than earlier that morning.

Johnson pulled off his shoes, too, letting his aching feet breathe.

“I think it’s going to be a good place for a little bit,” Johnson said.

His shoulders dropped with exhaustion.

“Until we have to move again.”

Residents of a troubled subsidized housing complex in Minneapolis will soon be able to get stipends to help them relocate.

The Minneapolis City Council unanimously approved a plan Thursday to get the funds to residents of Heritage Park. Eighty-three out of the 211 currently occupied units will be eligible for stipends, after residents and council members raised alarms over mold, rodents and damage.

Council member Pearll Warren, whose ward includes Heritage Park, said she’s working to make sure residents have what they need to move out, if they choose to.

“This has been mentally and emotionally taxing for everyone, and I want you to know that I value you as individuals, and that everyone’s story and everyone’s living situation is very unique and deserves a very person-centered and individualized approach,” Warren said.

The stipends will be available to residents who:

• lived in Heritage Park on or before July 17

• cite health or safety concerns as a reason for moving before Oct. 17

• relocate by Jan. 31, 2027.

The money can go toward moving expenses and potential rent increases. Stipends will range from around $6,500 for one-bedroom units to around $12,500 for five-bedroom units.

That funding will come from $2.5 million that the council approved in July to go toward repairs and relocation.

The city plans to work with SRF Consulting to help residents find new housing. That firm has an existing contract with the city, and Director of Community Planning and Economic Development Erik Hansen said working through that existing contract is the fastest way to get help to the residents.

Warren said she’s in talks with city staff to explore the possibility of working with a North Minneapolis organization as well. Hansen told the council he’s in talks with North Point Health and Wellness Center about bringing the organization in to help.

The Minneapolis City Council at its Thursday meeting will consider a voluntary relocation plan for some residents of the embattled Heritage Park housing complex.

Eighty-three of the current 211 households would be eligible for stipends to escape unhealthy living conditions, according to Erik Hansen, the city’s community planning and economic development director. Videos of mold, vermin infestation and leaky roofs prompted public outcry and led the city to pass $2.5 million in July for emergency repairs and relocation.

Hansen told the council during a Monday committee of the whole meeting the city is still evaluating whether the buildings are salvageable but wanted to move quickly to relocate residents.

“I think we’re on the side of the fence where we can, but I can’t give you with total confidence that we can save the buildings,” Hansen said. “To that point, that means there is no habitable unit.”

Residents who lived in Heritage Park on or before July 17, who cite health or safety concerns as their reason for moving by Oct. 15 and relocate by Jan. 31, 2027, are eligible for the stipend. The total payout is designed to cover moving expenses and potential rent increases based on household unit sizes.

The city estimated stipends for a one-bedroom unit at around $6,500 while a five-bedroom unit would receive around $12,500.

The committee passed the plan by a voice vote without opposition, but several council members raised issues with spending on consultants and excluding 128 federally funded public housing units governed by the Minneapolis Public Housing Authority.

“I don’t have a problem with the relocation assistance that’s being given,” said Council member Pearll Warren, whose Ward 5 includes Heritage Park. “I just have an issue with the fact that the individuals who are participants of the Minneapolis Public Housing Authority are essentially being punished for being low- to no-income.”

Warren, along with other council members, were also concerned about a no-bid contract with SRF Consulting to provide relocation consulting.

To qualify for the stipend, residents must find apartments comparable in size to their current dwelling. The city would use SRF, which currently has a contract with the city, to expedite getting families out who wish to do so.

Warren questioned not putting the consulting portion up for a bid since several organizations are already assisting residents find new housing. Hansen said putting it up for a public bid would add two months to the timeline, delaying stipends until the middle of fall.

“That is unacceptable for me,” Hansen said. “I think we need to be able to push this funding out as quickly as we can. The staff and the team have come up with a way to do that. It’s not perfect. Nothing is perfect in an unplanned situation.”

Warren said the city was artificially limiting itself by not including the families who receive federal funding while awarding a consulting contract worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. She noted the $2.5 million in funding council passed in July equated to roughly $12,000 per family still at the complex.

“There’s not anything anyone needs to do to qualify to move,” Warren said. “Everybody is eligible. They should be. The truth is, it’s not habitable. It’s not anywhere that anyone should want to live.”

The city of St. Paul began clearing a longstanding homeless encampment at Pig’s Eye Park Wednesday morning, despite weeks of pushback from residents, volunteers and service providers at the camp who warn it will fracture community and ongoing care for people who are trying to survive.

The clearing remained relatively calm throughout most of the morning, as city staff largely hung back while dozens of volunteers helped residents move their belongings in wagons and cars. Volunteers also drove residents to alternative locations. For many that was other encampments in the city. The city will also clear other camps, however no dates have been set yet.

“We appreciate that level of support from our community, and we also know that we still have a few individuals that are still there,” Assistant Mayor Cedric Baker said during an update Wednesday afternoon. “And our process is to really go slow and steady in this.”

Baker estimated that 20-30 residents still remained at the camp around noon. When asked where encampment residents were relocating, Baker did not answer the question directly but said city and county workers are letting residents know that shelter space is still available. He acknowledged many had relocated to another encampment.

Scenes from the encampment on Wednesday

Fullscreen SlideshowPrevious Slide

3 of 3

1 of 3

2 of 3

Next Slide

MPR News was not able to immediately confirm how many shelter beds or what type of shelter beds were available. One encampment in the woods near Shepard Road has more than doubled in size, according to longtime residents and volunteers there.

An estimated 100-200 people were living at the camp, also known as Fish Hatchery, that closed Wednesday. The mayor’s office announced the closure last month, citing worsening health and safety concerns.

In the weeks leading up to the closure, outreach workers from the city and county were tasked with expanding efforts to connect people to shelter and eliminate barriers to housing, including replacing necessary documents — though there’s still a lengthy housing wait list and many residents feel unsafe at shelters or do not want to part with their pet or belongings.

But in the final day leading up to the closure, many residents remained uncertain about what they were going to do next, while others — like Ksenia Gabrielle Burgoyne — said they planned to move to another encampment. Burgoyne said she’s been on the housing wait list for nearly five years.

“I think it’s really cruel to kick a homeless person out,” Burgoyne said, while rushing to pack up her belongings. “I personally don’t have a family member that I can call to say I’m struggling. I have absolutely no one.”

Still, Burgoyne said she’s grateful for community members who regularly come to the encampment to help out. On Tuesday morning, many of those volunteers walked through the camp, delivering sandwiches and water, and connecting with residents while time at the camp ran out.

Jim Seemann, 79, is a volunteer who has been bringing resources to the camp for the past two years.

“After a period of time, you get to know these people, think of them as your friends — even begin to love them,” he said. “It’s very difficult for me to say goodbye.”

The mayor’s office said a major impetus for the closure was that the camp grew too big. Seemann said he only noticed significant growth after a different encampment closure last year.

“It seems to me that the city is unintentionally playing a game of whack-a-mole,” Seemann said.

But Seemann said he promised many residents he would follow them wherever they go next in the city.

One 53-year-old resident, Gregory Schulz Jr., said he already set up at a different camp.

Schulz said he was banned from shelters after fighting someone who provoked him and hasn’t been able to get into housing, despite multiple attempts, because of a criminal record.

But he has been trying to help other camp residents, coming back each day to make the move easier for others — especially the “old timers,” he said, like a man with a wheelchair who didn’t know where he would go.

Schulz said he doesn’t have much family left. Many family members have died or don’t want anything to do with him anymore, he said. But he has his own non-biological family in the encampment — his brothers and sisters and nieces and nephews — who he is trying to stick with.

“My street family is more my family than my own family,” he said.

With less than 24 hours to go before the closure, Kat Donnelly, a nurse with Healthcare for the Homeless, prepared for her job to change overnight. For the past couple years, Donnelly said she’s been able to make great progress with patients through the consistency of regularly checking in at the encampment.

“It takes a long time to build trust in this community,” she said. “I’d like to hold up my end of the bargain. I’ve promised that I will be there to care for people and I want to continue to be able to do that.”

Late Tuesday morning, Donnelly scrambled to keep that promise — refilling medications, letting patients know drop-in sites where they can find her and trying to make sure a number of people with upcoming surgeries would be able to get that care.

She said she has been asking all of her patients what their plans are.

Donnelly said with little time left, she was still hearing the same thing, over and over: “I’m not sure. I’m not sure. I’m not sure where I’m going to go.”

Late Tuesday afternoon, the city announced that starting Thursday, county outreach workers will be available downtown from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. at a “transitional hub.” They will be there for the next two weeks to connect residents to shelter, housing, health care and financial assistance.

The city has said it is providing limited storage for residents “prioritized for individuals who accept shelter” and the Familiar Faces program and HART teams will offer residents rides to available shelter.

Buying a house or condo is becoming harder for many people in Minnesota.

The math is simple. Home costs are rising and most people’s incomes aren’t keeping up.

But solutions are more complicated. Communities need to build more low-cost homes, help buyers with down payment assistance and lower-interest loans, and help current homeowners maintain and stay in their homes.

MPR News host Angela Davis talks with Twin Cities Habitat for Humanity’s CEO Chris Coleman about how the nonprofit organization is working on all these fronts to tackle the housing affordability crisis.

Guest:

• Chris Coleman became president and CEO of Twin Cities Habitat for Humanity in 2018 after serving as mayor of St. Paul from 2006 to 2018. He worked previously as an investment advisor for RBC and served for six years on the St. Paul City Council.

Twin Cities Habitat for Humanity uses thousands of volunteers every year. Learn more on their website’s volunteer page.

Subscribe to the MPR News with Angela Davis podcast on: Apple Podcasts, Spotify or RSS.

Use the audio player above to listen to the full conversation.    

Golden Valley is the latest Twin Cities suburb considering zoning changes that could make it easier to build duplexes, triplexes and other dense housing.

The idea is gaining momentum across the metro as communities look for ways to increase the housing supply without building large apartment complexes.

Laura Russ is executive director of the Shenehon Center for Real Estate at the University of St. Thomas. She joined Minnesota Now host Nina Moini to share more about the changing landscape in housing.

Use the audio player above to listen to the full conversation.

Subscribe to the Minnesota Now podcast on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts.

We attempt to make transcripts for Minnesota Now available the next business day after a broadcast. When ready they will appear here.

For the past two years, 39-year-old Ryan Gill and his chihuahua-terrier Willow have lived at their spot in an encampment tucked away in the woods — just off Shepard road in St. Paul and not too far from the Mississippi River.

Gill keeps the grounds tidy with a broom. He loves the breeze through the tree canopy and the view of the water. When Willow wanders off in her red vest, this is where she knows to return.

“And anytime I’m gone and she’s looking for me, she always comes back here and waits for me,” Gill said. “This is home to her, too.”

But it won’t be their home for much longer. The camp, where about 40 people live, is among three long-standing encampments that will soon be broken up. The city announced the closures earlier this month, citing growing concerns about health and safety there.

Although the amount of available long-term housing has not increased — more than 2,600 people and families are on the waitlist for Ramsey County’s coordinated entry list — Mayor Kaohly Her said the goal is to get people connected to resources in time for winter.

“It is not humane or compassionate to allow these encampments to continue,” she told MPR News.

Dozens testify against camp closures

The announcement has sparked sharp opposition, which was visible during a packed public hearing at City Hall Wednesday afternoon.

Dozens of community members — including unhoused people and those who provide help at the encampments — testified that the clearings would hurt camp residents. Several pointed to research showing an increased risk of death and said the closures would disperse people into isolation, making it harder for residents to support one another and get continuous support from outreach workers.

Gill, the longtime resident at the Shepard encampment, shared similar sentiments ahead of the meeting. He said out at the camp, residents watch each other’s tents when someone steps away. They keep an eye out for troublemakers who aren’t welcome, and they trade and share resources.

“There are common rules, you know. Respect each other. Don’t steal from each other,” he said. “You see a person in need? Help them.”

He said when a newcomer arrives without anything, he’ll offer them a sleeping spot in his yurt until they get their own tent. In the winter, he turns his yurt into a warming space to share warmth.

“That’s what it’s for, you know,” he said. “For people that ain’t got nothing right now.”

Gill said he’s not sure where he’s going to go next. He avoids shelters because they feel unsafe. When he got on the housing waitlist a couple years ago, it didn’t end up going anywhere. It would be nice to have a stable house to give Willow baths, he said, but he likes being outside, where there’s freedom and familiar faces.

One of the people who regularly goes to the encampment is Kat Donnelly, a nurse with Healthcare for the Homeless in St. Paul (Gill knows her by her first name). She’s outside five days a week and provides healthcare for about 200 people. She thinks the closures are a dangerous idea.

“For me, the overarching concern is continuing the care that I’ve set up with people,” she said. “It’s difficult to treat disease and care for people when you can’t find them … and when people don’t feel well, it’s very difficult to make other choices.”

Before St. Paul had “stable” encampments, Donnelly said she spent most of her day searching for her patients. But in recent years, she’s been able to shift toward more preventative care. It’s a turn that’s taken a lot of time and trust building — and allowed her to double the number of people she treats.

With established locations to find people, she’s successfully treated syphilis, a disease that requires three shots one week apart. She has consistently delivered insulin to patients, maintained schizophrenia medication and kept patients’ blood pressure under control.

One patient she’s particularly worried about is a pregnant woman who has been stuck on the housing waitlist. The woman is in her third trimester, with her baby due in September. All she can do is wait, Donnelly said.

“It is really disheartening that there is not clear guidance about the plan to keep people healthy,” she said.

Donnelly is part of a weekly call with dozens of other service providers involved in the city and county’s coordinated efforts to serve unhoused people. When the closure plan was announced at that meeting, Donnelly said she and everybody who spoke up expressed feeling blindsided.

She said she was not consulted leading up to the announcement, nor was she consulted leading up to a presentation Assistant Mayor Cedrick Baker delivered to the city council Wednesday afternoon, sharing more details about the plans.

Hundreds of response calls led to closure decision

Baker said the city is committed to making sure that "if anybody needs to be inside, they can be inside." He said the goal is for outreach workers to have multiple conversations with residents before police take up enforcement as a last resort.

“And when you do potentially have a conversation with police officers, it’s still a continuum before you even get to enforcement,” he said. “In general, we do not want to criminalize being homeless.”

Baker said the tipping point was an increase in residents at Pig’s Eye and more than 850 first responder calls across the encampments in the past year. He said the Shepard encampment is also on contaminated land, posing a risk to those living there.

Moving forward, he said the city will no longer allow established encampments.

The presentation did not explain how the response will mitigate the spread of infection disease or the elevated risk of overdose deaths, which Council Member Molly Coleman noted would be helpful for follow-up.

Ramsey County Manager Ling Becker said county outreach workers have been at the encampments working to eliminate some barriers to housing. That’s included replacing identification documents, connecting people to county benefits, and helping residents resolve outstanding warrants.

Ramsey County executed an agreement with Catholic Charities Tuesday to open up an additional 49 emergency shelter beds at Higher Ground, she noted. The city council authorized the mayor’s request to transfer $1 million to the county for expanding shelter capacity ahead of the first closure.

That closure is set for Aug. 5 at Pig’s Eye Park, also known as the Fish Hatch encampment. That’s the largest camp where an estimated 120-200 people live. The city hasn’t picked dates for the smaller encampments yet, but said they will aim to give residents prior notice as they did with the first closure.

What happens when someone needs help from a community that’s been dispersed?

Kat Hunter, a helper who runs the mutual aid group Rising Waters with their spouse, said uncertainty is high across the camps, where they’ve been distributing survival essentials for the past year and a half.

The couple rents a small warehouse unit where volunteers assemble hygiene kits and snack bags. Colorful shelves teem with resources: batteries, harm reduction supplies, tents, tarps, pet food, pads and coffee. They try to distribute 2,000 water bottles each week and, lately with the extreme heat, 500 pounds of ice each day.

Hunter said recently, a 76-year-old man collapsed from the high temperatures. When he fell, it was other camp residents who rallied to help. Hunter had no idea he couldn’t get out of his tent until other residents alerted them.

“But what happens when he can’t camp with people?” Hunter wondered.

They added the man had previously stayed in shelters but avoided them as much as possible because of previous harsh experiences there.

“People built these spaces because they serve them, and the harms are in part because we don’t support them in that,” Hunter said. “If we have housing for everybody, we should house everyone. But if we don’t, people are building a society and a culture and a community that they want, and they need our support.”

The Minneapolis City Council allocated $2.5 million Thursday to help move 685 residents out of a north-side housing development riddled with mold, rats and leaky roofs.

The council’s unanimous vote followed a proposal brought forth Tuesday by city staff, Mayor Jacob Frey and Council Member Pearll Warren, who represents the neighborhood where Heritage Park is located.

The mixed-income housing development was built more than 20 years ago to replace a public housing complex torn down as a result of a housing segregation lawsuit. The housing was owned by St. Louis-based developer McCormack Baron Salazar until last December, when the court appointed a receiver — Certus Financial LLC — to take over.

The funding would go to the court-appointed receiver, as well as other agencies involved in providing resources for relocation, likely including the Red Cross, the Minneapolis Public Housing Authority and Hennepin County.

Earlier this week, Erik Hansen, the city’s director of Community Planning and Economic Development, said the city and stakeholders will have to determine whether or not it makes sense to repair or entirely rebuild the units.

For now, Director of Emergency Management Rachel Sayre said the priority is figuring out what assistance is most pressing, as partners develop potential relocation plans.

“This is very large-scale. It is beyond the capacity of any one agency to do,” Sayre said. “There’s a lot more to come, but our immediate focus is on these urgent needs.”

The city council also voted to direct the city attorney to look into legal pathways to recoup the costs, which are coming from the city’s Affordable Housing Trust Fund.

Michelle Delgado had long wanted to own a home. Twin Cities Habitat for Humanity helped her find a path to buying one.

The organization showcased five affordable homes under construction Wednesday in St. Paul’s Greater East Side. Called “The Heights,” the project is Twin Cities Habitat for Humanity’s largest affordable housing project in Minnesota. The organization plans to build 147 homes on the 112-acre former Hillcrest Golf Course.

Twin Cities Habitat for Humanity is building the new homes in partnership with the Pope Leo Village Movement, a multi-state organization that has funded affordable housing projects across the U.S.

Delgado won’t live in The Heights, but she moved into a home in Minneapolis through Twin Cities Habitat in 2020 during the COVID-19 pandemic. She was a speaker at the event and a volunteer.

“I did not have a hand in building my home, so to be able to do that for someone else is exactly how I like to be in terms of giving back,” she said. “I know what it's like to not have heat or hot water. I know what it's like to have to go to the food pantry a lot, and so being on the other side, anything I can do to give back and make someone's life a little better is wonderful.”

Delgado, who is of Puerto Rican descent, said it matters to know organizations like Twin Cities Habitat for Humanity are available to help her, her friends and other people of color. Without the organization’s help, she said her monthly mortgage would be double.

“Knowing that there was something woven into the fabric of the beginnings of this country to limit who can have a home is incredibly daunting,” she said. “On the flip side, working with an organization that is fighting that and providing the opportunity for affordable home ownership is something we should all strive as Americans.”

Around 15 volunteers from St. Catherine’s University volunteered for Habitat’s Women Build Program. University President Marcheta P. Evans was a speaker and volunteer at the event and said, “It was beyond a nice feeling” to give back to the community.

Evans was one of many to put up the first wall, but she said it wasn’t the first one she put up. She helped build her own home with her grandfather when she was a kid.

“I grew up in an environment that I was poor, but didn't really realize I was poor at the time,” Marcheta said. “We had mayonnaise and ketchup sandwiches because we didn't have bologna to put it in the middle of it. And now, being able to be a university president and to come and to give back from this, from my experience of where I came from, it makes me feel as if I'm at the right place at the right time doing the work that I should be doing.”

Twin Cities Habitat President Chris Coleman said two years ago The Heights was “just an empty field.”

“But now we actually have families moving in,” he said. “We have almost 20 families that call this neighborhood home, and we're continuing. We have 74 units under either completed or under construction as we speak.”

Coleman said the organization works to make sure homes are affordable to families by making sure “the mortgage is no more than 30 percent of household income.” He added that almost 20 people have moved into the neighborhood, with 74 units ready to go or under construction.

The development is expected to be completed next year, according to Coleman. You can find more information on the housing process through the organization’s website.

The Minneapolis NAACP and other Minneapolis leaders are putting pressure on the city’s public housing authority over deteriorating conditions at a housing development.

City officials say 200 units of housing at Heritage Park in north Minneapolis are vacant and plagued by roof leaks, mold and exposed wiring.

Heritage Park resident Eddie Robinson, 75, said he’s had to deal with rodents, a leaky hot water heater, mold and other maintenance problems.

“The doors don't seal properly, the front or back door, because you can see light coming in and out,” he said.

NAACP vice president Thomas Berry said the head of the Minneapolis Public Housing Authority Abdi Warsame should either resign or be fired.

“We further asked for a full and immediate inspection of all public housing units in Minneapolis, a comprehensive review of maintenance records, an independent investigation into how this level of neglect was able to happen, including any other failures of oversight across the entire Minneapolis public housing system, all properties must be brought up to a true Minneapolis standard, and nothing less,” he said.

Heritage Park is a mixed-income development that was built more than 20 years ago to replace a public housing complex that was torn down. The NAACP was part of the 1992 housing segregation lawsuit, which led to the consent decree responsible for the creation of Heritage Park.

In a statement, an MPHA spokesperson said the agency does not “own, control or operate” units at Heritage Park. It does own the land. Last year, the court appointed a third-party receiver to take over for the original owner of the property, St. Louis-based developer McCormack Baron Salazar.

On Thursday, the Minneapolis City Council requested the City Auditor undertake an independent audit of the MPHA’s use of city funds. Council member Pearll Warren, who represents the neighborhood where Heritage Park is located, called for the audit.

“This request is not about assigning blame, it's about accountability and transparency, and ensuring that residents receive the safe and dignified housing that they were promised,” said Warren. “So, when public dollars are invested in a community, the community deserves to know what happened, what worked, what didn't work, and what must be done differently moving forward.”

MPHA officials say they are committed to taking care of the people who live at Heritage Park. And they say they will work with local stakeholders and the receiver to invest “millions in repairs.” That includes working with council member Warren.

“We look forward to continuing to work with the council member and her colleagues at the city to identify a long-term solution at Heritage Park.”

MPR reporter Cari Spencer contributed to this story.

When Kate Eubank showed up to Minneapolis City Hall in January to advocate a statewide eviction moratorium, she thought of a five-year-old boy at her daughter’s school.

Eubank had brought the boy a Christmas present three weeks earlier as his parents hid from the ICE agents roaming Minneapolis streets. Soon after, the boy’s father was taken at a bus stop, his mother lost her job and the family missed a rent payment.

Parents at the school then scrounged up the money to help the family avoid eviction.

It was Eubank’s first time speaking at City Hall. “We are at the limits of our capacity as neighbors and as family,” she said, leaning into the microphone while a scrum of cable news cameras faced her. “We can’t do enough and we can’t do it alone.”

That feeling mounted for months, as Eubank and hundreds of other Minnesotans reached into their pocketbooks to keep their neighbors housed. When grassroots funding dropped off, many organizers continued pressing local government leaders for intervention even as national attention faded.

For months, the government’s response was muted. Gov. Tim Walz would not impose an eviction moratorium. The Minneapolis City Council passed $3.8 million in rental assistance, but Mayor Jacob Frey vetoed measures to temporarily extend the grace period before an eviction.

Then in May, organizers notched an unexpected political win, securing $40 million in emergency rental assistance from the state. It represents a fourfold increase in the amount the state spends on that form of homelessness prevention in a typical year. But to the small army of neighborhood organizers striving to prevent evictions, the ICE surge exposed a deeper crisis the state is poorly positioned to address.

DFL state Rep. Michael Howard largely credits the rent movement for pressuring lawmakers to match their herculean lift.

At least $14 million in grassroots donations have been distributed since January, according to Yusra Murad, an organizer affiliated with the rent-fund coalition Keep Minnesota Housed. That figure, based on a tally of 40 rent funds, represents only part of the total raised, excluding donations from charitable foundations and other crowdfunding efforts.

Howard, who co-chairs the House housing committee, said that “Minnesotans were leading in their own neighborhoods and then they took that same fight to the legislature. It really did prove pivotal.” He said lawmakers should learn from the system that Minnesotans built to provide far more rental assistance far more quickly.

“I heard more about the system failure of rental assistance during Operation Metro Surge than I ever have before, and I have heard about that for years,” Howard said. “We should feel pressure as government to be as responsive as we’ve seen folks at the community level.”

Alexandria Gomez, a substitute teacher, was among the thousands of Minnesotans who mobilized to support neighbors who were at risk if they left their homes.

She started the Phillips Community Free Store in 2020, sharing free produce and hygiene products outside of a volunteer-run bike shop in south Minneapolis. This January, while running food deliveries to families in hiding, she started getting questions about rent support.

Gomez and her fellow organizers quickly became experts on the resources available from the city and the county — and on the system’s limitations.

There were income restrictions. Confusing forms. Timelines that prevented residents from asking for help until they were almost over the edge. On top of it all, there wasn’t enough aid available, and people, many fearful of sharing information with the government, needed immediate help.

Gomez started a GoFundMe soon after Renee Good was killed, charting a system that skipped the usual requirements. If people said they needed help, she helped them. She was able to quickly identify who needed support, thanks to the network that persisted from 2020.

Leaders on each neighborhood block identified the needs in their area. She gave them cashier’s checks, which they passed along to families in hiding when rent was due.

Her efforts yielded more than $1.5 million in rent assistance, helping hundreds of families in the Phillips neighborhood stay in their homes.

Across the state, many other new rent funds worked in similar ways, as Minnesotans created a patchwork safety net together.

That community effort seems to have had a meaningful impact on eviction filings.

Last year, Minnesota hit a state record for the most evictions filed. In January and February, however, filings were slightly lower than the previous year, according to HOMELine, a nonprofit tenant advocacy group that tracks eviction data. Eric Hauge, a co-executive director at HOMELine, said mutual aid “absolutely kept filings artificially lower.”

But eviction filings are now again on track to exceed last year’s high. And grassroots donations have dwindled since Operation Metro Surge wound down, forcing many groups to shut down and shuffle renters to those that remain.

Now that the state aid has passed, it will probably reach local providers between July and September, according to the Minnesota Housing Finance Agency.

“It’s too little, too late,” Gomez said of the state funding. “I don’t think it’s really going to scratch the surface of the need — especially considering we’ve only been helping people who are impacted by Metro Surge.”

For low-income renters alone, the state’s own research outlines a $350 million need for annual emergency rental assistance. When the federal government exacerbated that need, philanthropic foundations were slow to respond, with one notable exception: John Wilson, who grew up as a renter with an intimate view of housing precarity. He got rich after his company patented a cancer innovation, and started a foundation that has distributed more than $23 million to local rent groups as of June 11.

When the Wilson Foundation joined the rent movement in late February, Wilson tapped into a network of trusted mutual aid groups — allowing him to move at a speed unusual in the foundation world. Wilson said things seemed better than they were in March, but the amount of rent support requested has not diminished.

At La Viña church in Burnsville, Pastor Miguel Aviles is acutely aware of how urgent the need created by the ICE surge remains in his community. Legal fees, outstanding bills and health costs are mounting, and many households are missing breadwinners. At the peak of Operation Metro Surge, he continued to lead his majority-Latino congregation in person, even when he feared he or his wife might be caught up in the seemingly indiscriminate sweeps. But he received the highest volume of calls for rent help in May and June, months after officials announced the end to the federal operation.

Aviles is celebrating the state rent relief win, but he’s not expecting the aid to reach many of the families he has been supporting.

As of June 5, the church has distributed more than $1.2 million in rent aid, helping more than 1,000 people. Many would not qualify for typical rent relief programs, Aviles said, because they are not named on an official lease and are renting from family or friends. “We know these cases are real and most agencies are ignoring these cases,” he said. “And these people are going to be out in the streets.”

Mutual aid is “putting the whole system on its head,” said Hauge of HOMELine. “And I think it does speak directly to the need for structural change.”

The struggle for noncitizens to access housing aid could get worse. In addition to wide cuts to food, health care benefits and much federal funding to the state, the Trump administration wants to disqualify citizens and legal residents who live with undocumented family members from receiving housing assistance or accessing public housing.

Anna Stamborski, a lead organizer of Neighbors Helping Neighbors — one of the largest mutual aid networks that formed in response to the ICE surge — said communities need to stay organized in the face of threats like these.

Although state funding is on the way, Stamborski and other rent organizers are disillusioned that the local government didn’t heed their most urgent demand: a delay in evictions when losing shelter meant potential violence with armed agents outside.

At the peak of the surge, it was not intervention from philanthropy, the government or corporations that reached those thrust into crisis, Stamborski said. It was those who built relationships and infrastructure with their neighbors. That’s the work Stamborski hopes will continue, as she foresees a long-term fight ahead.

“Churches know exactly who this rent relief is going for. Schools know exactly who these families are that need help with rent. Neighborhoods know exactly who those people are that they’re organizing within their neighborhoods,” Stamborski said. “There’s beauty in relationships and proximity.”

This article was published as part of a collaboration between Minnesota Public Radio and The New York Times's Headway Initiative, focused on covering housing in Minnesota. This reporting is supported by the Stavros Niarchos Foundation (SNF), with the Local Media Foundation serving as fiscal sponsor. Funders have no control over the selection, focus of stories or the editing process and do not review stories before publication.

By Joey Peters, Sahan Journal

This story comes to you from Sahan Journal through a partnership with MPR News.

Five clients who purchased homes from Chad Banken testified this week that the real estate broker deceived them by not properly disclosing the terms of their loans.

Banken’s attorney, Jack Pierce, countered these arguments by showing the jury emails and purchase agreements Banken sent to the buyers disclosing the terms of their home loans. The documents included a chart showing three pricing options and information about how paying a bigger down payment would lead to a lower total cost.

Three members of a Somali family who bought a large Lakeville home from Banken in 2022 testified earlier this week. Banken evicted the family from the home in 2023. At one point, Pierce went over the chart of pricing possibilities that Banken had sent the family before they bought the home.

“Did you talk to your mom about this chart?” Pierce asked Hassan Salat, who testified Tuesday and Wednesday.

“We did, but it was very confusing,” Salat answered.

Banken is on trial for allegedly breaking the state’s consumer fraud laws and for deceptive trade practices laws. Banken sold 160 homes using contracts for deed, which offer fewer protections for consumers compared to conventional mortgages.

Attorney General Keith Ellison brought the charges against Banken in a 2024 lawsuit in Hennepin County civil court. The lawsuit alleges that Banken inflated home prices and pressured homebuyers to pay large down payments, essentially setting them up to fail. Real estate agents found homes for their customers that Banken bought then and sold to the clients that same day at higher prices.

He’s also accused of discriminating against Muslims in violation of the Minnesota Human Rights Act, and of falsely telling clients that his contracts did not include interest, which is generally forbidden in Islam.

‘Confusing’ pricing options

Christopher Willette, a real estate agent, also testified against Banken this week, and gave a similar answer to Salat’s when Pierce showed him a similar pricing chart Banken had sent him before he purchased a condo from Banken.

“In my opinion, the grid is pretty confusing,” Willette said.

The Minnesota Attorney General’s Office argued that Banken’s charts were not sufficient, and that he violated multiple state consumer protection laws. The attorney general’s office also argued that Banken’s purchase agreements highlighted the price Banken paid for the house and downplayed the higher price he charged buyers for the same house.

“The terms of the contract were buried in the paperwork,” Assistant Attorney General Karthik Raman argued during opening statements early in the week.

Lawyers from the attorney general’s office showed jurors a contract with Omar Kahn, who bought a home from Banken in 2020 and was evicted by Banken in March of this year. Kahn’s contract showed that he had a fixed interest rate. But lower in the same contract, there was a clause that said his interest rate would change after five years to an adjustable rate.

Kahn testified Thursday that neither his real estate agent nor Banken told him his interest rate would change after five years.

Kahn’s monthly payment started at $2,490 in 2020 and jumped to $3,840 by October of 2025, when his interest rate changed.

Kahn and Jessica Lacasse, another buyer who purchased a home from Banken using contract for deed, both testified Thursday that they had made offers on their homes thinking that they were paying the initial price Banken had paid, not the more expensive “flip” price Banken was actually charging them.

Jurors are being asked to determine whether there is “a preponderance of evidence” that Banken, who is expected to testify next week, is liable for the charges brought against him. Banken could potentially face financial penalties, including restitution, if the jury decides the case in favor of the attorney general’s office; prison time is not an option in civil matters.

The trial started on Monday, June 8, and is expected to continue through all of next week.

‘Too good to be true’

In an attempt to address allegations that Banken tried to hide interest payments in his contracts, Pierce showed Salat the pricing chart and pointed out that one of the columns states that a potential loan would include interest.

“Did you talk to your brother and mom about it?” Pierce asked.

Yes, Salat said, adding that his mom told him the interest wouldn’t apply to them. He testified that his realtor, Ismail Harun, told them that their $50,000 down payment would instead pay for the difference that the interest would cost.

That turned out to be untrue.

Salat’s family bought the home for $678,000, a markup from the $610,000 that Banken bought it for, according to trial testimony.

Salat testified that he was always skeptical of the purchase, and alleged that Banken manipulated his mother, who does not speak proficient English, into the sale.

“It seemed too good to be true,” Salat said. “You’re gonna get this brand new home and not have to pay interest? Mom believed everything they were saying, and I didn’t believe it at all. It was too good to be true.”

Banken also allegedly made his clients use their limited liability corporations to buy homes. Salat’s brother, Daud Salat, bought the family home using his trucking LLC. Willette bought his condo using his notary service LLC. And Abdinoor Igal, who testified earlier in the week, bought his home using his trucking LLC.

The attorney general’s office alleges that Banken used this method to disguise the sales as business transactions, knowing that such transactions have fewer consumer protections than personal sales.

“Did you ever park your truck at your Lakeville home?” Assistant Attorney General Mark Iris asked Daud Salat when he testified.

“No,” Daud Salat replied.

“Why?” Iris asked.

“There was not enough space to park there,” Daud Salat said.

Hassan and Daud Salat’s mother, Fowsiyo Hassan, wanted out of their contract after learning it had interest. Banken said he wouldn’t talk to her because the home was in Daud Salat’s business’ name and not hers, the brothers testified.

Banken eventually evicted the family from their home.

Similarly, Willette testified that he didn’t know that using his LLC would be a problem until he tried multiple times to apply for bankruptcy protection a few years after purchasing his condo. Willette was denied each time because his condo was in his LLC and bankruptcy court suspected fraud.

The attorney general’s office showed jurors texts Willette sent Banken asking Banken to change his contract from his LLC to his name.

“Ignoring me won’t help either Chad,” read one of Willette’s texts. “You have no right not to sign. I need that signed ASAP. To be in my name instead of LLC. Don’t make this difficult.”

“Attorneys need to resolve,” Banken replied.

“What was the resolution?” Iris asked Willette.

“There was none,” Willette responded.

Willette testified that he bought the condo on a contract for deed following a divorce that left him with bad credit and an inability to qualify for a conventional mortgage. But the process with Banken caused him to lose between $25,000 and $30,000, and left him feeling “cheated,” Willette told the court.

Willette testified that he wasn’t able to get the homestead exemption for his condo from Hennepin County, which would have lowered his property taxes, because the condo was in his business’s name and not his own.

Pierce asked Willette, who has 30 years of experience as a real estate agent, why this would come as a surprise to him.

“There’s different intricacies to this business,” Willette said. “I don’t know everything there is to know about real estate.”

“You could have asked someone in your office?” Pierce suggested.

“Yes,” Willette responded.

The defense has built a case around the assertion that Banken disclosed the terms of his home sales in writing, and that some real estate agents didn’t properly communicate them with their clients.

“No one who testifies will say Banken wrote something wrong,” Pierce said in his opening statements Monday. “They’ll instead say, ‘Someone told me something.’”

He also argued that buyers willingly signed onto the terms of their loans.

Igal bought a Lakeville home from Banken in 2022 and abandoned it the following year after he could no longer pay for it, losing $170,000 in payments he had already made directly to Banken.

While cross-examining Igal earlier this week, Pierce emphasized that Igal had signed a document releasing all claims against Banken in order to leave the home.

“I did not have a choice,” Igal testified earlier this week. “It was just me and him. He came to my house, he came with the document, he said, ‘Sign it.’”

A part of the defense’s argument at trial is that the buyers’ real estate agents were all supposed to be familiar with contracts for deed, per their training and certification, and that they were supposed to advocate for their clients’ interests.

“There may have been some situations where a particular real estate agent, or two or three, weren’t particularly clear on terms of the agreement,” Pierce said in his opening remarks earlier this week.

Pierce also said in his cross-examination that Igal’s real estate agent, not Banken, lied to Igal about his contract with Banken.

“You were lied to by Mr. [Ismail] Harun?” Pierce asked, referring to Igal’s real estate agent.

“Chad and Harun, yes,” Igal responded.

At another point, Pierce showed an email Igal had written to Banken.

“Ismail lied to me,” the email said.

Pierce asked Igal if he indeed wrote that his real estate agent had lied to him.

“If you go by the email, but I know both —, ” Igal replied.

“Thank you,” Pierce said, cutting him off.

The Federal Reserve Bank of Minneapolis recently surveyed construction firms in the six states it covers, which include Minnesota and North Dakota.

More than half the survey respondents were from the Twin Cities, and overall, the construction firms expressed growing pessimism.

“Uncertainty has lingered,” said Erick Garcia Luna, the regional outreach director at the Minneapolis Fed. “There's been a net decline in activity. Residential and commercial construction were hurt the most, according to our respondents.”

More than half of respondents to the latest construction survey reported a drop in active projects from November 2025 to April of this year, compared with the same period 12 months prior.

Part of the problem is that the cost of materials remains high, Garcia Luna said. Inflation and tariffs contribute to those high expenses, and now oil price changes stemming from conflicts in the Middle East are driving up the costs of other goods.

“Not only on fuel but also on materials such as PVC and other plastic-based materials that are used in construction,” Garcia Luna said.

Those costs make houses more expensive to build, and consumers may not be ready to accept higher housing prices.

The growing cost of building homes

First-time homebuyers are among those consumers who are most sensitive to pricing; they typically want to buy affordable, already-built homes, but such homes are in short supply.

“Realtors will tell you things have gotten a little bit better earlier this year, but the market for existing homes in [an affordable] price range for starter homes is very tight,” said Steve Gottwalt, government affairs consultant for the Central Minnesota Builders Association.

Part of that is because many people who’ve already settled down in their homes have favorable mortgage rates, Gottwalt said. That means they’ll be less likely to risk paying higher prices for a new house.

That leaves first-time homebuyers with another option: buying a newly built home.

That’s less common in Minnesota, said Gottwalt, partly because there aren’t enough starter homes being built.

But in North Dakota, some cities like Fargo offer a tax exemption that incentivizes first-time homebuyers to buy newly built homes rather than existing ones.

Nevertheless, Brock Goossens, co-owner of Hawthorne Custom Homes in Fargo, said that with rising construction costs, those houses are more expensive to get.

“We're seeing affordability for that first-time home buyer still be a stretch,” Goossens said.

His clients can typically afford a more expensive house, but he said even they are proceeding with caution as of late.

“When you get to that top end, they still want to spend money, still know they're going to spend money,” Goossens said. “Maybe they don't have a budget on it, but they're watching their dollars and their cents more because (of) whatever's going on in the world. And it is affecting what they ultimately put in.”

Goossens, who is also president-elect of the Building Industry Association of the Red River Valley, said that in the first quarter of the year, construction in the Fargo-Moorhead region had a 11 percent decline in permits.

“It's a slower start than what we've seen years past,” Goossens said. “But we're amping up, we're seeing larger projects launch. So, meaning that maybe there are fewer new project starts, but we're seeing larger project starts.”

Worker availability

Another factor causing hardship for construction companies is access to labor.

“Labor availability continues to be the story of the region,” Erick Garcia Luna of the Minneapolis Fed said. “Companies are just struggling to secure the labor that they need in order to remain competitive.”

According to the Minneapolis Fed’s latest construction survey, 10 percent of respondents reported that immigration enforcement actions earlier this year affected their labor availability.

In Minnesota, respondents flagged issues around the Paid Family Leave program. It allows workers to take paid time off for their own serious health condition or to care for a family member.

“The paid family leave was mentioned a few times by respondents in that it was making scheduling difficult for some companies,” Garcia Luna said.

That said, about 30 percent of respondents did say they increased headcount during the period in question, which, Garcia Luna said, “is not a bad number.”

The sound of bulldozers, hammers and saws will fill the air where church bells once rang out and nuns sang hymns as construction work begins this week on new, affordable single-family homes on the grounds of the Our Lady of Good Counsel campus in Mankato.

The Southwest Minnesota Housing Partnership is about to break ground on Good Counsel Meadows as part of a redevelopment project at the former convent site, according to Jen Theneman, campus director of Good Counsel and the director of real estate and community initiatives at the affordable housing nonprofit.

Construction crews will start clearing land and evening out the ground, dividing the pasture land area adjacent to the Tourtellotte Park neighborhood into 11 single family home lots. Construction on eight of those homes is expected to be completed and the houses will be available to new homeowners by fall. Three additional single family homes will be built in 2027.

The homes will be sold below market prices through a community land trust, in which low-income buyers purchase the house while the nonprofit retains ownership of the land beneath it. Theneman said the unique setup helps lower purchase costs and limits future resale prices to preserve affordability.

“The land lease is good for 99 years and renewable for another 99, so it has longevity and sustainability,” she said. “[The buyers] can live there as long as they want, and they own the home, they pay taxes and they have the deed. They can pass it onto their children when they’re ready to or when they pass on. So it’s also a way for low-income families to build wealth.”

The historic campus was established in 1912 on a bluff overlooking the Minnesota River Valley as the home of the School Sisters of Notre Dame. Included in the purchase were buildings that were used as senior and assisted living housing for the nuns, the last of whom left the property in 2022 when they moved to an assisted living center in Shakopee.

SWMHP plans to renovate the main complex of the sisters’ residential buildings on the hilltop portion of the property into about 50 apartments.

Due to the historic significance and connections the site has to the Mankato community, Theneman said the rollout of the redevelopment project needs to be done slowly.

“There’s so many people that have a connection to this campus,” Theneman said, “whether they went to school here, or they knew the sisters, or just appreciated the beauty of the landscape, or attended the gardens that are up here. So, there’s a lot of people that are connected and want to be a part of its future, and so we’re happy to continue to make that possible for people.”

The housing nonprofit closed on the nearly 100-acre property at the end of last December in order to redevelop the site as affordable housing.

A Mankato housing study published in April 2025 found that the overall rental vacancy rate in Mankato is just 1.7 percent. A healthy rental vacancy rate is considered to be closer to 5 percent. And Mankato has virtually no vacancy for people with disabilities or those seeking senior housing.

This isn’t an isolated problem. All of Minnesota’s 87 counties have a limited supply of affordable homes that are available to renters with extremely low income, according to the Minnesota Housing Partnership’s 2026 County Profiles. In almost 80 percent of counties, the shortage exceeds 100 homes; and in nearly one-third of counties, it exceeds 500 homes.

Statewide, home values rose faster than homeowner incomes from 2023 to 2024, and home values have increased in every county in the state.

At least one in four renters are paying more than they can afford for housing statewide. In 20 Minnesota counties, more than half of renters are cost-burdened, which means they spend more than 30 percent of their gross household income on housing and utilities.

Minneapolis has received national attention for its 2040 housing plan.

But St. Paul is also a laboratory for housing policy. The capital city has experimented with rent control and loosening zoning rules.

And a new data dashboard from the Federal Reserve Bank of Minneapolis helps track how those policies are playing out in St. Paul. It illuminates how housing supply and costs are changing rents, production, affordability and stability.

The story that emerges from the data is mixed and doesn’t cohere into a simple narrative.

Here are three key takeaways.

1) Zoning reform is starting to increase housing supply

St. Paul’s 2023 zoning changes (allowing duplexes, triplexes, etc.) are already showing early signs of boosting development, especially near universities.

While still modest, this reform is seen as a step toward easing the housing shortage by allowing denser housing

“It’s a smaller process to add four units here, and five units here, and six units there, relative to adding a 60- to 70- to 100-unit apartment building,” said Libby Starling, senior community development advisor at the Minneapolis Fed. “At the same time, allowing the gentle density in more places does increase the overall housing supply of the city.”

2) Rent control reduced development

The 2021 rent stabilization policy stipulated that property owners could not increase rents more than 3 percent year over year unless they went through a process of justifying the need.

It discouraged developers and investors, leading to a sharp drop in large apartment construction permits.

“At the same time the rent stabilization occurred, there has been a drop off in new construction,” said Starling. “We had a lot of conversations with developers and owners of property who felt like there had been an overall chill in the willingness of capital to invest in the city.”

Despite that shrinking supply of housing, which ordinarily might lead to an increase in rents, rents in St. Paul have fallen about 10 percent (inflation-adjusted) since 2020.

Starling did not have a simple explanation for why that’s the case.

But it is possible that rents might have fallen yet farther if rent control weren’t in play, given the totality of factors.

3) Property tax burden shifting from landlords to homeowners

Falling apartment values have led to landlords paying about 27 percent less in property taxes since 2022.

Meanwhile, homeowners are paying more, with median annual property taxes rising sharply from about $3,400 to more than $4,200.

This suggests a redistribution of the tax burden tied to housing market changes.

Whether you’re renting, trying to buy your first home, or making a move — many people are finding that affordable housing feels out of reach.

Minneapolis Federal Reserve President Neel Kashkari recently pointed to four major factors pushing up housing prices: High interest rates, rising construction costs, regulations and zoning rules, and a shortage of housing overall.

MPR News guest host Catharine Richert talks about what more expensive housing means for renters and buyers across Minnesota — and what policymakers, builders and communities can do to make housing more affordable.

Guest:

• Alene Tchourumoff is the senior vice president of Community Development and Engagement for the Federal Reserve Bank of Minneapolis. Her team studies housing affordability and economic trends affecting low and moderate-income households across Minnesota.

Subscribe to the MPR News with Angela Davis podcast on: Apple Podcasts, Spotify or RSS.

There are more houses for sale in Minnesota this spring as compared to last, but high mortgage rates, renewed inflation and difficult economic conditions are continuing to affect the real estate market in the Twin Cities and statewide.

That’s according to a new report from Minnesota Realtors, an association representing more than 21,000 realtors.

“More listings and more sales are encouraging signals heading into the heart of the spring market, but monthly payments are still the biggest hurdle for most households,” said Wendy Uzelac, president of Minnesota Realtors.

New listings in the Twin Cities metropolitan area rose nearly 9 percent over the year ending in April.

Pending sales, where there is a signed purchase agreement, also spiked. They were up 7.4 percent statewide and 6.9 percent in the metro over the period in question. Median sales prices, meanwhile, fell 2 percent in the metro and remained flat statewide.

“Real estate is hyper local. It always really varies neighborhood to neighborhood,” said Michaela Toohey, a realtor with Coldwell Banker.

She said her clients experienced an active April with buyers signing purchase agreements. But Toohey said that the market remains unbalanced.

“This has been the same story for many spring seasons … low inventory,” Toohey said. “I am really seeing that out there, working with clients, and I’m seeing it not just like with first-time or entry level buyers, but I’m seeing it at … all sorts of price points in the market. We just don’t have enough homes for sale, and it’s just been this way for many seasons in a row.”

Realtors said the market has calmed compared to the frenzy of activity during and immediately after the pandemic, but mortgage rates are still a barrier.

Move-up buyers and downsizers with equity continue to drive this market,” said Aarica Coleman, president of Minneapolis Area Realtors. “Affordability hinges so much on rates. Homeownership continues to be most accessible to people who already have some capital.”

Toohey believes economic uncertainty may also be causing some to sit on the sidelines.

“There are a lot of questions that people have about just overall, how the economy is doing, and some people wondering about job stability as well,” Toohey said. “I certainly have some sellers that have told me … they’re waiting to just sort of feel out their job security and to make sure that they feel secure before they move forward with real estate purchases.”

Around the start of May, as rent again came due, Pastor Miguel Aviles’s phone rang nearly every hour. Each call weighed heavily on him, as he listened to the desperation on the other end of the line.

More people have called La Viña church in Burnsville about rent help in the past two weeks than at any other point this year — including during the peak of the ICE surge.

And more and more callers, he said, have been reporting eviction notices.

“Seeing this level of need, month after month, has been heartbreaking,” said Aviles, who has helped raise and distribute more than $800,000 in rent relief to those impacted by ICE since January. “We want to do even more for these families, but we need the financial resources to keep helping at the level this moment requires.”

That’s a common sentiment among those who created community rent funds in response to Operation Metro Surge — especially as statewide eviction filings tick up compared to last year, when the state already hit a record for its most filings.

At the peak of the ICE surge, Minnesotans raised and distributed millions of dollars in quick, low-barrier rent aid. This grassroots movement shielded hundreds of households from facing eviction, allowing immigrants to stay indoors while armed agents patrolled outside schools and bus stops.

But as public attention has waned and smaller, individual donations have slowed down, the landscape has shifted. Some rent funds can no longer operate and are having to direct those seeking aid to other groups. Some of the most visible funds that have received boosts from charitable foundations are shouldering more rent requests, said Yusra Murad, a rent relief organizer with Keep Minnesota Housed.

Murad meets weekly with dozens of rent organizers who are now confronting a crisis that existed even before thousands of federal agents came to Minnesota and caused an estimated $47 million in lost wages per month, according to the city of Minneapolis.

She said with “hundreds more people who have been doing rent relief organizing there’s that feeling of accountability and wanting to support everybody who is living in unaffordable rental housing,” she said. But the question is now: “can we keep this going?”

Many rent relief funds are now relying on donations from charitable foundations to stay afloat, largely from the Wilson Foundation, which has thus far distributed about $14 million to different community groups for rent relief, according to biotech entrepreneur John Wilson.

In Minneapolis, the city council has allocated $3.8 million for emergency rental assistance and the first $2 million was made available for residents late April. That support is only accessible to those who make below 30 percent of the area median income and who have a pre-eviction notice — a departure from the usual eviction filing requirement.

Help from the state appears to be on the way. On Wednesday, legislators passed a housing bill that includes $40 million for emergency rental assistance. That bill will now head to Gov. Walz.

Those on the front lines of rent relief say additional funding is crucial.

At Shir Tikvah synagogue, the Yesod fund received a record number of requests for rent help around the turn of May — more than at any other point since the fund’s creation in January.

“We lack the resources to cover the current level of need,” said Raena Barrios, the director of operations for Shir Tikvah, whose usual job responsibilities have taken a back seat to triaging the aftermath of the ICE surge.

749 people requested help in the first week of May, totaling $2.2 million in requests, Barrios said. That’s more than double the amount of requests they received during the first week of April.

Barrios said as other rent funds have slowed down or closed, and as word has spread that the Yesod fund is still running, more neighbors have turned to them for help.

The vast majority of requests continue to come from people impacted by ICE, usually households that lost work or are scrambling to make ends meet after a family member was deported.

The fund has had to prioritize people faced with an eviction notice and those with more than two months of rent debt — and has thus far been able to support all of the folks who have reached that point — but the need is far greater than any rent fund can cover.

The “basically constant” support from smaller, individual donations the Yesod fund once received has “come to a trickle,” Barrios said, and they are now relying on a few beefier donations from charitable foundations.

In total, the Yesod Fund has raised and distributed $4.5 million in rental assistance since January. The goal is to keep up the fund, especially as she predicts new needs emerging during this presidential administration, Barrios said.

The Yesod fund is just one of dozens of community rent aid funds that emerged in response to ICE, and whose organizers are navigating the road ahead as attention wanes but need persists.

“I sometimes wish that our politicians and organizations with wealth in our neighborhoods could see what a day in running a mutual aid fund looks like and feels like,” she said. “Because I think it would really change some hearts and minds of the ways that we take care of our people.”

Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey on Thursday vetoed the city council’s second attempt to extend the city’s eviction notice timeline.

He also vetoed a council ordinance decriminalizing drug paraphernalia.

Both ordinances passed with the support of the progressive wing of the city council. The council can attempt to override the vetoes — but unless some council members change their votes, they likely don’t have the support to do so.

Eviction timeline extension

The ordinance would have required landlords to give tenants 45 days’ notice before officially filing to evict them — an extension from the 30 days currently required under city rules.

Council members supporting the extension said it would help people who are still struggling to pay rent after the federal immigration enforcement surge.

In his letter to the city council on the veto, Frey wrote that rental assistance money is the best way to support tenants — not extensions.

“The City of Minneapolis has a longer pre-eviction notice period than most cities in the country,” Frey said. “I am not convinced that more time will result in improved outcomes.”

He pointed to the eviction moratorium imposed during the pandemic in 2020, and the wave of evictions that followed when the moratorium was lifted. He said the same in March, when he vetoed a similar council ordinance that would have extended the notice timeline to 60 days.

Some shelter leaders and housing experts agreed with Frey, saying that more time without more financial assistance available to renters would put them further in debt.

But some noted that, this time, there is city funding available — the council and the mayor have approved $3.8 million in rental assistance, which residents can now apply for. Council members and housing experts supporting the eviction notice extension said it could help give renters time to access those funds.

The council would need nine votes to override the veto. Last week, the council passed it on a 8-5 vote.

Drug paraphernalia decriminalization

Frey also vetoed an ordinance that would have decriminalized drug paraphernalia in Minneapolis.

The ordinance was recommended by outreach workers, who said the city’s current policies discourage drug users from seeking help or getting clean needles and other materials, out of fear of getting in trouble. Under the city’s current rules, possession of drug paraphernalia is a misdemeanor.

In his letter to the council, Frey said the current rule makes it easier for police to investigate drug-related crimes, as they can stop people for having drug paraphernalia and investigate further.

He said the ordinance also is frequently used by Metro Transit police to keep people from using drugs on light rail trains.

“I remain a firm believer in harm reduction, but we need every tool available to combat addiction and related quality-of-life issues,” Frey said.

Advocates for the ordinance said the current law complicates their work.

Jay Orne is a researcher and manager of HIV prevention programs at the Aliveness Project. He oversees the organization’s outreach to people on the streets — which involves providing clean needles, plus Narcan and HIV testing. Orne said people who use that program have been stopped by police after picking up clean needles.

“That makes the folks that we work with hesitant to take the supplies that they need,” Orne said.

He worries that people will instead use old needles and less-safe practices — which can further the spread of HIV.

Orne said it creates a dilemma for outreach workers, too. Their work handing out safer supplies is funded by state and county dollars, but it’s technically illegal for drug users to carry the supplies they’re given.

“That’s — I think — the hypocrisy, or just the weirdness of the situation,” Orne said. “One hand is saying, ‘this is such an important public health strategy that we’re going to fund your program to be out there on the street’… and then another hand is saying, ‘that’s actually illegal.’”

Several council members said they worried that decriminalizing paraphernalia would lead to more drug use in public places and paraphernalia left on the streets.

Council member Elizabeth Shaffer said constituents report issues with litter left on the streets, including drug paraphernalia.

“Public health is not just about the health of the people engaged in the behavior being regulated. It encompasses the well-being of the entire community, including people who are not using drugs,” Shaffer said.

Several residents echoed those complaints in public comments.

Council member Jason Chavez said continuing to criminalize paraphernalia isn’t helping drug users or other residents in the city.

“This ordinance was brought forward to address public health and safety issues harming our communities,” Chavez said. “Not a single Minneapolis resident will see their health or safety improve because of the mayor’s action.”

The council voted 7-6 in favor of the ordinance last week. That leaves them two votes short of the required majority to overturn the mayor’s veto.

The city of Lakeville’s population is booming. It grew 12 percent from 2020 to 2024, according to U.S. Census data. That’s compared to statewide growth of two percent. Despite Lakeville’s growth, the city is putting a pause on building new housing. The city council passed a one-year moratorium last week.

Lakeville Mayor Luke Hellier joined MPR News host Nina Moini to explain why they’re hitting pause on housing and his vision for the future of Lakeville housing.

Use the audio player above to listen to the full conversation.

Subscribe to the Minnesota Now podcast on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts.

We attempt to make transcripts for Minnesota Now available the next business day after a broadcast. When ready they will appear here.

Group homes give Minnesotans with disabilities or mental health diagnoses a place to live — with staff on site to keep them safe. But a new investigation from MPR News and APM Reports found a surprising number of people have been dying in Minnesota group homes.

The investigation discovered at least 50 deaths since late 2022. But state law allows only minor financial penalties against the group homes when they neglect their residents.

Reporter Ellie Roth joined Minnesota Now host Nina Moini to talk about the group home industry, how the state investigates neglect and an inside look on the reporting.

Use the audio player above to listen to the full conversation.

Subscribe to the Minnesota Now podcast on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts.

We attempt to make transcripts for Minnesota Now available the next business day after a broadcast. When ready they will appear here.

Ryan Riggs died alone by a chain link fence in the backyard of the group home that was paid to take care of him.

Disabled by a traumatic brain injury after crashing his motorcycle in 2024, the 44-year-old needed more help than his family could handle. His wife, Julie, moved him to a site run by Fortunate Homes in Brooklyn Center, believing it was the best place for him.

About six months later, Ryan Riggs went missing from Fortunate Homes. As the temperature dropped to 45 degrees on a September night last year, the group home’s staff and police couldn’t find him. Twenty-nine hours after he disappeared, his body was discovered behind the facility’s detached garage. Rigor mortis had set in.

A state investigator concluded Fortunate Homes neglected Ryan Riggs’ needs. The Department of Health determined the vulnerable man should never have been allowed to leave the house unsupervised and that staffers did not review their own surveillance video until the day after he disappeared.

Ryan Riggs’ death and the facility’s neglect devastated his family. For the state’s fast-growing group home industry, it was part of a troubling pattern.

MPR News and its investigative unit APM Reports found at least 50 residents in Minnesota group homes have died since late 2022 under circumstances serious enough to trigger state maltreatment investigations. In 19 of those cases, state investigators concluded the homes had neglected those vulnerable people.

Yet the group homes faced only minimal consequences. State law caps fines on the homes at $5,000 for each case of substantiated maltreatment. In Ryan Riggs’ case, Fortunate Homes was initially fined $1,000 — less than two days’ worth of the more than $20,000 the business received monthly to take care of him, according to his medical records.

In other instances, MPR News and APM Reports found the state issued a $5,000 fine for neglect when staff at group homes let a resident drink himself to death, didn’t administer a resident’s life-saving medication for 15 days, and didn’t stop a resident from overdosing twice in a single day.

“That’s a lot of deaths. I’m frankly in shock that this isn’t known,” said Sue Abderholden, a longtime advocate for Minnesotans with mental health struggles. “There needs to be more happening, including shutting down a facility if they really can’t make adjustments in order to keep people safe. Slapping on a fine is not going to make sure people are safe in the future.”

In March, MPR News and APM Reports asked the Minnesota Department of Health about Ryan Riggs' case and the $1,000 fine. Days later, the Health Department sent a letter to Fortunate Homes, calling the original fine an “error” and raising it to $5,000. The letter did not elaborate on the reason for the change, and the department did not answer questions from reporters about the sudden increase.

Health Department officials declined an interview. In a statement, a spokesperson said the department issues fines and other enforcement actions in accordance with state law and that “MDH’s goal is always that Minnesota have zero deaths from maltreatment or neglect, especially in trusted spaces like health care settings.”

Since 2021, the department has ordered the revocation of two group homes’ licenses following maltreatment investigations into the deaths of residents. In one of those cases, it later backed down after the group home appealed.

An attorney for Fortunate Homes said owner Susan Obwaya would not comment for this story. The company is appealing the state’s maltreatment determination in the Ryan Riggs case.

The medical examiner determined Ryan Riggs likely died of a fentanyl overdose, but state investigators said they couldn’t rule out hypothermia as a contributing factor. Julie Riggs, 48, said she’d never known her husband to use opioids and didn’t understand how he could have had access to fentanyl if he were receiving around-the-clock supervision.

“He was going to be well taken care of,” she said, describing her expectations for the group home. “They would help him with his memory. They would get him to all his appointments. It's the worst feeling knowing that I agreed to put him there, because I was told that was the best place for him.”

Julie Riggs said she couldn’t believe Fortunate Homes was still operating. She didn’t know of the $1,000 initial fine against the group home until a reporter told her.

“Ryan was only worth a thousand dollars?” she asked. “It’s like a slap on the wrist. That’s nothing.”

‘Lack of accountability’

Minnesota’s group homes are funded largely with taxpayer money. They typically operate out of former single-family houses with staff members on site to supervise the residents. Licenses are issued by the state Health Department as assisted living facilities or the state Human Services Department as community residential settings.

While advocates say the homes allow people with disabilities to live as independently as possible, the industry’s rapid growth in the northwestern suburbs of Minneapolis has led to problems that have put vulnerable people in danger.

State records reveal troubling cases where group home residents died following neglect by the facilities.

• At Miles Vents Inc. in Brooklyn Center, a resident who had been missing for 20 days was found dead of a suspected overdose in her bedroom. Police said she had been dead “for a significant amount of time.” The staff told state investigators they had not been trained on how to identify suspected drug use. The Health Department tried to revoke the group home’s license in 2025. But the facility appealed, and the state eventually backed down after concluding Miles Vents Inc. had come into compliance with all regulations.

• At Unique Homes in Robbinsdale, an employee told state investigators the night staff was asleep on the couch when a resident was found unresponsive after an overdose. The deceased resident had provided first aid to another overdosing resident hours before their own death.

• At Arms Home Health Care in Minneapolis, staff caring for a resident who required one-on-one supervision told state investigators they were unable to prevent the resident from acquiring and using drugs on and off the premises. The resident died after their fourth overdose at the group home.

None of those three group homes responded to a request for comment.

MPR News and APM Reports downloaded thousands of publicly available maltreatment investigation documents and then used an artificial intelligence application to identify cases of alleged neglect in which a group home resident died. Reporters then reviewed each report for accuracy and created a database to analyze them.

In three substantiated cases of neglect, residents choked to death after staff members failed to cut their food into smaller pieces or left food out unattended.

In at least six instances, the state fined group homes only $1,000 for neglect after a death. That includes when a resident’s health slowly declined until she died of sepsis. The public documents detailing each case do not explain the variation in the fines.

In a statement, a Human Services Department spokesperson said the agency takes every reported death “seriously,” recognizing it’s “especially painful” when it’s caused by maltreatment. But he added that a finding of neglect didn’t necessarily mean the group home caused the death or needed to be shut down.

“Each incident is complex, so there is not a straight line between when a death occurs and a licensing action being issued,” the statement read.

When the licensing agencies become aware of alleged maltreatment, they triage the cases based on credibility and decide which ones to review. Investigators review the history of the facility and people involved and make phone calls to determine if further investigation is warranted.

Very few cases make it past that initial assessment. In the past year, only 7 percent of allegations reported across all programs licensed by the Human Services Department received a full investigation. The Health Department does not publish data on how many of its maltreatment reports receive a full investigation.

And even when a case is flagged for an on-site investigation, investigators don’t always interview key witnesses, including the alleged victims. In one maltreatment case that did not involve a death, an assisted living facility called 24 Seven Home Care refused to allow a Health Department investigator to interview other residents without guardian approval and took them all on a field trip during the investigator's three-hour on-site visit.

The company challenged the results of the investigation and accused the investigator of bias. In response, the state amended its findings to find fault only with the staff member and not the company.

In at least 16 group home deaths, state investigators couldn’t determine whether neglect had occurred.

“This set of resources that we have in the state, the lack of accountability, the under-investment in our mental health continuum, is really not serving Minnesotans well,” said Marcus Schmit, executive director of NAMI Minnesota, the local chapter of the National Alliance on Mental Illness.

“The complexity of these programs and how the fragmentation of funding works is creating a lot of opportunity for bad actors who are much more focused on profits than people,” he added.

‘Ryan deserved better’

Susan Obwaya, 46, a nurse who previously worked at a state-run psychiatric hospital, founded Fortunate Homes a decade ago. Her company now operates four state-licensed group homes in the northwestern suburbs of the Twin Cities, as well as two apartments for short-term, recuperative care in Minneapolis.

In total, the state has paid Obwaya’s company more than $13 million, according to Minnesota Open Checkbook, a state website that provides transparency in government spending.

When Brooklyn Center police interviewed her and asked if it was normal for Ryan Riggs to be lying in the backyard, she said, “Not that I know of, but he goes out for walks. So I don't know if he likes to lay down on the grass. That I wouldn't know.”

Down the block from where Ryan Riggs died, Fortunate Homes operates another group home licensed for five residents. In 2023, a mentally ill resident went missing within 18 hours of being dropped off from the hospital.

A week later, police called to see if he’d turned up. Obwaya said no one had seen him and that a second resident had gone missing, too. The first resident was located a year later when he was arrested by Metro Transit police.

In 2024, a staffer at the same group home took over a resident’s finances and, after she quit working for the company, stole $15,000 from his account. A subsequent state investigation blamed the employee alone for the financial exploitation, not Fortunate Homes.

Health Department investigators forwarded that maltreatment report to law enforcement. But since it was the public version of the report, all identifying details on the victim and perpetrator were removed, and it was of little use to build a case.

A Brooklyn Park police detective called to ask for the full report, and a state employee said they would email it over. Three weeks later, it still hadn’t arrived. The detective called again and was told someone else would follow up. Three months later, still without the full report, the detective closed the case.

There was a short-lived effort at the Minnesota Capitol this year to give the Health Department the power to impose larger fines for “egregious” incidents in which residents of group homes and other assisted living facilities die or are seriously injured as a result of neglect.

Rep. Ginny Klevorn, DFL-Plymouth, said she quickly learned her bill wouldn’t have enough support to pass if she increased fines for providers. So she removed that language in hopes that other provisions of the bill could survive.

“Is it the right thing to do? I don’t think so,” Klevorn said of removing the proposal for harsher fines. “But if I can get training, if I can get procedures, if I can get an emergency medical responder on site, that’s a huge win. And then I’ll come back for the fine.”

Pass or not, Julie Riggs knows the bill won’t bring her husband back. The couple had big dreams, and Ryan had become a role model to Julie’s two adult children. They planned to build a house near her family’s pheasant hunting preserve, west of St. Cloud.

The motorcycle crash three years after their wedding changed everything. The damage to his brain was so extensive he couldn’t recognize his wife.

“All I ever wanted in my life was a happy ending,” she said. “I’m not gonna get it. There’s no replacing him.”

Julie Riggs is still paying off Ryan’s medical bills and funeral expenses. To pay the debts, she had to sell Ryan’s beloved palomino quarter horse he’d taught her daughter, Mikayla Mills, to ride.

More than a year later, she still struggled to understand how Fortunate Homes was unable to locate her husband on its small suburban lot.

“Ryan deserved better than what he got,” she said.

APM Reports journalist Kate Martin contributed to the reporting of this story.

Twin Cities residents struggling to pay rent can now apply for help from emergency funds in St. Paul and Minneapolis.

Both cities approved millions of dollars in funding as the federal immigration enforcement surge pushed some residents to stay home from work out of fear and forced closures at some businesses. Some families saw primary breadwinners deported, leaving them scrambling for funds.

Mutual aid networks have distributed millions of dollars in rental assistance since the start of the surge. Those networks are still up and running, but organizers say they need help from cities.

Here’s how it works in both cities.

Minneapolis

Minneapolis has $2 million available in its emergency rental assistance fund so far. Applications for the fund opened this week.

To qualify, applicants need to live within city limits and make less than 30 percent of the area median income.

For a four-person household, that’s less than $39,720 annually. For one person, it’s $27,810.

Residents also must have received a pre-eviction notice from their landlord. In Minneapolis, landlords are required to issue these notices 30 days before filing for eviction.

Erik Hansen, Minneapolis community planning and economic development director, said renters should apply as early as possible.

“The best thing for Minneapolis residents to do is — as soon as you know that you think you're going to be evicted — to contact the organizations that we have as intake organizations,” Hansen said at a city council meeting Thursday.

Hansen said that’s a different requirement than the county’s rent assistance fund, which requires tenants to have an eviction filing.

Residents can apply for funds through several partner organizations: Comunidades Latinas Unidas en Servicio, Isuroon, the Minnesota Indian Women’s Resource Center and Tenant Resource Connections.

The council and the mayor have allocated $3.8 million total and the Wilson Foundation has agreed to match $3 million of that. City officials said the rest of the approved funding will be available soon.

St. Paul

St. Paul added $1.4 million to its emergency rental assistance program this year, bringing the total program budget to $3.8 million.

Applications for funding are available on the city website. They’re open on the first two days of each month, with the next round starting May 1. The city enters applications into a lottery due to high demand.

To qualify, residents must make less than 80 percent of the area median income. That’s $104,200 per year for a family of four, or $72,950 for one person.

Tenants also need to have received a pre-eviction notice or a summons to housing court.

Applicants who are eligible for help can get a one-time payment of up to $3,500, which the city pays directly to the landlord. Residents can get help from this fund once per year.

A new report shows many parts of greater Minnesota are diversifying and growing. However, sustained population growth looks unlikely with an aging Baby Boomer generation and declining birth rates. That's the topline from the 2026 State of Rural report by the Center for Rural Policy and Development.

Ben Winchester says there's even more to the story around these trends — and it has a lot to do with housing. As a rural sociologist with the University of Minnesota Extension, he studies housing dynamics across the state. MPR News host Kelly Gordon talked with him on Minnesota Now.

Use the audio player above to listen to the full conversation.

Subscribe to the Minnesota Now podcast on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts.

We attempt to make transcripts for Minnesota Now available the next business day after a broadcast. When ready they will appear here.

Minneapolis city officials say low-income renters have a harder time finding affordable housing that allows cats and dogs compared to people with higher incomes.

A report presented to a city council committee on Tuesday showed that landlords sometimes charge prohibitive pet fees and deposits.

The report included data on 100 rental listings that allowed pets:

• 22 percent included mention of dog breed restrictions; 20 percent included mention of dog weight restrictions

• 52 percent indicated specific pet rent; another 30 percent indicated negotiable pet rent

• 41 percent listed a non-refundable, one-time pet fee; another 30 percent indicated a negotiable pet fee

In some cases, those fees and deposits were negotiable. And city officials said landlords must allow service animals.

But council member Aurin Chowdhury said her ward office gets a lot of calls from renters who say they’re having a hard time finding affordable places to live with their pets.

Chowdhury said some homeowners have also told her they want to downsize, “but they have, particularly a bully breed, a larger dog. … They want to move into renting because they don’t need that large family home anymore, and it’s been really difficult for them to make that change in life, because they feel like they are locked in to the place that they have.”

City officials said breed or size restrictions have contributed to a recent increase in the number of dogs surrendered to shelters. They said the number of pets surrendered to Minneapolis Animal Care and Control doubled between 2021 and 2025. And they said of the 2,077 animals surrendered to MACC in 2024 and 2025, 13 percent of owners who gave a reason said they did so due to a housing concern.

Tuesday’s presentation included examples from ordinances passed in other cities that cap how much landlords can charge renters for their pets.

The council has been looking at the issue since December. Council members expressed interest in making it easier for low-income renters to find pet-friendly housing.

“I’m a dog mom,” said council member Pearll Warren. ”I love my dog.”

Warren urged pet owners to treat their animals well and encouraged people to train their dogs to minimize the chance for damage to rental properties.

“I know that it’s frustrating for property owners, (and) for individuals who have animals,” she said. “They’ve come into a home and they’ve done damage to the home — but wonderful places like the Humane Society offer things like puppy kindergarten. My dog went, it was wonderful.”

More than 10,000 veterans lost their homes to foreclosure since May of last year, when the Trump administration shut down a key safety net in the VA home loan program, according to the latest industry data. That is the highest pace of foreclosures for VA loans in a decade.

Another 90,000 vets are heading toward foreclosure. This comes after a years-long debacle inside the Department of Veterans Affairs has whiplashed thousands of vets between various enacted and canceled programs and left many of them on the brink of losing their homes — often through no fault of their own.

A loan backed by the VA is considered one of the most valuable benefits for military service members and has helped millions achieve homeownership. But for nearly a year now, vets have had worse protections and options than most other homeowners if they fall behind.

" We should have something in place to try to stem people from losing their homes," said Steve Sharpe, an attorney with the nonprofit National Consumer Law Center.

The Trump administration was warned this would happen.

The roots of the crisis go back to a mistake made during the Biden administration, when the VA abruptly shut down a pandemic assistance program while thousands of vets were still in the middle of it. Struggling homeowners who used the program to skip some mortgage payments suddenly had to pay those payments back all at once — an unaffordable burden for many of them. After an NPR investigation exposed the problem, the VA halted foreclosures for a year while it rolled out a fix.

Republicans in Congress, citing costs, wanted to kill that fix and replace it with something else. But last spring, the mortgage industry warned that shutting down the program without first replacing it would be a disaster.

"Foreclosure. Period. That's really where it's gonna come to," warned Elizabeth Balce, representing the Mortgage Bankers Association, at a hearing in March of 2025 before the House Committee on Veterans' Affairs.

Less than two months later, the Trump administration shut down the rescue program anyway.

Since then, more than 10,000 veterans have lost their homes through foreclosure sales, according to ICE Mortgage Technology, which tracks such data.

It's unclear how many of those veterans could have avoided foreclosure through the rescue plan, called VASP, or the VA Servicing Purchase program. But mortgage industry insiders told NPR it's clear that some of those vets had enough disability pay or other income and would have been able to keep their homes had VA not shut down VASP with virtually no warning.

VA officials did not respond to NPR's questions about why the agency shut down VASP without first replacing it with anything else.

Meanwhile, 90,000 more veterans are currently behind on their mortgages or in the foreclosure process. The VA now says it's coming out with a new program that could help many of those vets, but it still won't be up and running for months.

Housing and industry groups warn that the new program, when it is finally operational, could still leave those vets with worse options than other homeowners, and push their monthly payments up by hundreds of dollars a month.

Buying a house brought stability

For Leann Ledford, one of the hardest things right now is that she's been here before and fought her way out. "When you lose your home, your house, nothing else matters," she said.

Ledford's husband is a Marine who was hurt in Afghanistan. He has PTSD and a brain injury. It took a long time to get through the VA's red tape to approve his disability pay, and in the meantime, his condition got so bad he couldn't work.

"At first, we didn't know whether it was a stroke or a seizure or what was going on," Ledford remembers.

She had to stop working to care for her husband, and then they couldn't afford rent. The couple ended up living out of a trailer hitched to their truck, with their young son, for six months while they waited for his disability paperwork to go through.

But then they got back on their feet. They even bought a house in January 2021 with a loan backed by the VA.

That's just what the VA loan is supposed to be — a life-changing benefit to give veterans a leg up into the middle class and homeownership.

The house is right across the street from the neighborhood's public school. "So our son started at the elementary school," which, Ledford said, has been a "huge relief."

"Since my husband hasn't been able to drive, you know, I have to manage everything," she said.

As both she and her husband's stress levels fell, his symptoms improved. And their son has had a stable home. " He's been able to live over half his life in our house now, and he doesn't remember all the bad years 'cause he was too little," Ledford said.

But just a year after they bought their house, a cascade of actions by the Department of Veterans Affairs entangled them, and thousands of others, in a years-long ordeal where they weren't permitted to pay their mortgage. That's now pushed them into foreclosure and the brink of eviction.

" We didn't know that the foreclosure sale went through until somebody knocked on the front door," Ledford said.

Bait and switched by the VA

For the Ledfords, this all started back in 2022 after they had to replace their furnace and were hit with other costly home repairs. Their lender, Freedom Mortgage, told them they could get help from what was called a mortgage forbearance. The COVID-era program would let them pause making payments.

" They told us it was for a year, and they would check in after six months," Ledford said. "And then we would just pick up our payments at the end of the year … It felt like such a relief for us."

She says Freedom told her the skipped payments would then be moved to the back of her loan term, to be paid later when they refinanced or sold the house.

In the wake of the pandemic, millions of Americans with other types of federally backed mortgages took advantage of such forbearance programs.

But then, in October of 2022, the Biden administration shut down a key part of the VA's forbearance program that had enabled the skipped payments to be deferred.

As a result, tens of thousands of veterans like the Ledfords were told they suddenly needed to pay that year's worth of payments in a lump sum.

" And we're like, wait a minute, what?" Leann Ledford recalled.

That would have been tens of thousands of dollars, which they, and most veterans in the program, couldn't afford. Or, they would have to accept a refinanced loan at the current, much higher interest rates. Rates had sharply risen from around 3% to 7%, and that new loan would have raised the Ledfords' payment by about $1,000 a month. They couldn't afford either option.

After NPR reported in late 2023 that 40,000 vets like the Ledfords had been trapped this way, with no affordable way to get current on their loans, the VA halted foreclosures across the country for a year while it rolled out a rescue program.

Trump's VA kills Biden-era fix

Once it was finally up and running by early 2025, the VA's rescue program, VASP, was starting to save large numbers of vets and their families from foreclosure. It gave more than 33,000 veterans who were behind on their payments new, low-cost mortgages with an interest rate of 2.5%.

But only months after VASP was fully functional and helping vets on that scale, the Trump administration had taken office and killed it. On May 1, 2025, amid fear of the potential cost, the VA abruptly did away with this safety net, giving mortgage servicers and even its own VA staff just one-week's notice. Vets who were already enrolled would keep those low-cost, affordable loans. But the door was slammed shut for any more veterans.

The Ledfords and other vets who needed the help hadn't managed to get enrolled yet.

"I found out that [VASP] was ending and I called the VA loan technician and they didn't even know yet," said Ledford. "They had to go figure out what was going on."

Mortgage companies told NPR back then that they were scrambling to enroll as many vets as they could, but the abrupt closure of the program caught them off guard.

"What the hell?"

Many veterans were hurt in a different way, too. After VASP was shut down, vets who didn't get enrolled in time felt they had no choice but to accept the offer of a loan modification, even though the higher interest rate meant punishingly higher payments.

Army vet Jon Henry, from Kansas City, Mo., wound up in a modified loan with monthly payments that are $380 higher than his original mortgage.

"It's a struggle," said Henry, who served in Iraq during the first Gulf War in a unit meant to counter chemical warfare attacks. "Especially with everything else being inflated in the country, you know, with groceries, gas … I'm like, what the hell?"

Henry, who lives outside Kansas City, Mo., fell behind on his mortgage after losing his job managing a manufacturing plant. He's working again now and just needed to catch up on his payments.

Veterans who've fallen behind on their loans are in a worse position than most nonveteran homeowners. Mortgages backed by the government through Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac or FHA all have emergency options for delinquent borrowers that don't raise their interest rate or monthly payment. But that's not true anymore for veterans with loans backed by the VA.

Mortgage rates have been between 6% and 7% over the past 10 months since VASP shut down. That means the other option for a VA loan, a loan modification, often sharply raises the monthly payment because many vets originally got their loans when rates were lower. Many veterans have to choose between selling their house, getting foreclosed on, or accepting a much higher-cost mortgage.

"It hurts paying $3,200 a month," Shante Benfatto told NPR. She served in Afghanistan and is rated 100% disabled by the VA. She and her husband fell behind on payments when he was between jobs. They say they tried for months to get into the VASP program but that their lender didn't get all their paperwork together before the VA suddenly shut it down. After receiving letters threatening foreclosure, the Benfattos reluctantly accepted a new modified mortgage with payments about $300 a month higher than their original loan.

"We're paying late because we can't afford to pay the extra money until the end of the month, until she gets her disability," said her husband, Mark. The late fees add an additional $105 to their monthly mortgage bill.

Some vets have seen their payments go up by a lot more.

Jerome Thomas, an Air Force vet in Port Charlotte, Fla., got hit with a payment that's $800 higher every month. His interest rate more than doubled to 6.8%. He said his lender told him he either had to agree to that or get foreclosed on, so he says he felt forced into the higher-cost loan.

 "I told them I can't afford to pay it," Thomas, who's lived in his house for 10 years, told NPR. And as he predicted, he's now behind on that modified loan and is receiving letters warning he's headed into foreclosure. " I got my three kids in here, I've got the wife, she's a teacher … it's bad."

Even when the Trump administration's new loan program is up and running, it won't help vets like Thomas, Benfatto, or Henry who were already forced to accept loans with higher interest rates. It won't lower their payments back down to where they were before. In theory, some vets could refinance if mortgage rates drop sharply, but rates have been rising again.

The VA's new fix

The Trump administration's new program, when it's up and running, will work by allowing vets to take their missed payments and move them to the back of their loan term. So they'll get to keep their current mortgage and interest rate. That should be a big help to vets who have a relatively low rate.

There's a qualifier in the current draft. The way it's written, the VA is telling mortgage companies that if a new, modified loan at a higher interest rate only raises a veteran's monthly payment by up to 15%, they must place vets into that more costly loan.

So a veteran with a $2,000 monthly mortgage payment could still be pushed into a modified loan that raises their payment by up to $300 a month. And they wouldn't be given the option of moving their missed payments to the back of their loan and keeping their original, lower-cost mortgage.

The mortgage industry is telling the VA that that doesn't make any sense.

"As drafted, Veterans will continue to have worse options than similarly situated non-Veterans," Pete Mills, an executive with the Mortgage Bankers Association, wrote in a letter to the VA.

"Payment reduction is the most important driver of modification performance, and the current policy will lead to higher redefault rates," Mills said. The association, along with housing groups, is recommending that the VA put a loan with a higher payment at the very bottom of its so-called waterfall of options for homeowners who are behind on payments.

"The VA should restructure the waterfall to only allow increased monthly payments as a last resort," Mills said.

Housing advocates are also pushing the VA to ask the mortgage industry to hold off foreclosing on vets until its new program gets up and running in a few months. That would buy time for the tens of thousands of vets who are already behind on their loans or in the foreclosure process.

"We're talking about a heck of a lot of folks," said Sharpe, with the National Consumer Law Center.

Eviction looms

It's already too late for Leann Ledford, her combat-disabled husband and their 10-year-old son in Spokane, Wash. Freedom Mortgage sold their house in a foreclosure sale, and it's now owned by the VA and they're being told they need to leave.

Ledford's husband has spiraled. He's having seizures again, and the issue made him so stressed that he didn't want to be interviewed for this story. " It has really impacted him, and he is really struggling," she said.

The VA said in a statement that it has helped thousands of vets to avoid foreclosure, but didn't offer specifics. VA press secretary Pete Kasperowicz wrote, "Per federal law, VA's home loan program is based on the premise that while Veterans may need some assistance, they must generally be able to make their mortgage payments."

The Ledfords, who receive $3,971 a month in Ledford's husband's disability pay, say they could have afforded mortgage payments under the VASP program. And they could have afforded their original mortgage with its $1,447 monthly payment, had VA's new program been up and running and allowed them to move their missed payments to the back of their loan term. But because VA killed VASP before standing up the new program, they were stranded without either option.

"VA worked tirelessly with the Ledford family to help keep them in their home. However, they were nearly four years behind on their mortgage payment, and the decision to foreclose on their mortgage was made by Freedom Mortgage," Kasperowicz said. Freedom Mortgage declined repeated requests for an interview or statement.

That VA statement ignores the fact that the Ledfords, like many other vets, were not allowed to resume making mortgage payments after a series of the VA's own missteps trapped them in a bureaucratic quagmire. They were told to just keep applying for help through a loss mitigation process that dragged on for years and in the end, never offered them any actual assistance.

The VA did not respond to questions about whether it could do anything to save the Ledfords from losing their home, since the VA now owns it following the foreclosure sale. The only offer from VA so far was $3,500 to vacate the house in what's known as "cash for keys."

The Ledfords have been told that to get even that much help, they need to vacate their home by April 3.

In its written statement, the VA said it stands ready to assist the Ledfords with health care services as needed.

NPR's Robert Benincasa contributed to this story.

Copyright 2026, NPR

The explosive growth of the group home industry in the northwestern suburbs of the Twin Cities is being driven largely by a relatively new licensing system overseen by the Minnesota Department of Health. And in Brooklyn Park, which has more group homes than any other city in Minnesota, those Health Department-licensed facilities appear to be responsible for an outsize number of the police calls that the city says are overwhelming its first responders.

Historically in Minnesota, group homes have been overseen by the Department of Human Services. But since 2009, there’s been a moratorium in place prohibiting the department from licensing any new group homes.

Despite the moratorium, the industry continued to grow. Providers were able to seek exemptions from the Department of Human Services or enter the industry under the auspices of the Department of Health. Today, those Health Department licenses are technically classified as “assisted living” facilities, and they have been expanding rapidly in the northwestern metro area.

About two-thirds of the group homes in Brooklyn Park are licensed by the Health Department, but even so, their impact on the city’s first responders appears to be disproportionate. The Brooklyn Park Police Department maintains a list of the group homes it responds to most often. Of the top ten facilities on the list, nine are licensed by the Health Department.

An analysis of state maltreatment investigations and police reports found that all 12 Brooklyn Park group home residents who died in the past few years were living in group homes licensed by the Health Department. In three of those cases, the state found neglect by the group home contributed to the resident’s death.

In a statement to MPR News and APM Reports, a Minnesota Department of Health spokesperson said the division’s "goal is always that Minnesota have zero deaths from maltreatment or neglect”.

“We are always open to improving relationships with our local partners,” The Minnesota Department of Human Services said in a statement.

Even the lobby groups for group home providers agree that the current system is overly complicated.

“It seems weird to have these populations served in two disparately regulated settings,” said Matthew Bergeron, a lawyer for the Residential Providers Association of Minnesota, the trade group that represents group homes licensed by the health department.

Sue Schettle, CEO of the Association of Residential Resources in Minnesota, the trade group that represents facilities licensed by the Department of Human Services, said she expects the state will eventually need to streamline the system.

“The system right now, where there are differences in how these organizations are regulated, is puzzling to me,” Schettle said. “I would imagine at some point in time that that will be rectified and it will be tightened up.”

Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey has vetoed a proposal to extend the city’s eviction timeline. Instead, he proposed allocating $1 million in city funding to rental assistance as an alternative way to help residents pay their bills.

“I believe that this is the best path forward,” Frey wrote in a letter to the City Council. “Rental assistance is working and getting to renters quickly.” 

The eviction extension policy would have required landlords to give tenants 60 days’ notice before filing for eviction, instead of 30 days. The city council approved that measure last week.

Council members and several local housing advocates said the measure would have helped residents who are struggling to pay rent amid the federal immigration surge, as some have stayed home from work or seen a family breadwinner detained.

The council passed the policy after hearing from dozens of residents at a public hearing who said they wanted the council to step in to stop evictions. Several housing advocates also told the council and Frey that this would help keep people housed.

Council President Elliot Payne said in a statement that the veto is frustrating. 

“I’m proud that the City Council can say we did everything in our power to give our neighbors more time to stay in their homes after they were forced to hide for months from the federal government,” Payne said. “I’m so disappointed Mayor Frey vetoed this bare-minimum policy.” 

But several local shelters and affordable housing landlords spoke out against the proposal. They said it could end up hurting residents. 

In letters to Frey and the council, several organizations said they worry that landlords would simply evict residents as soon as the extension expired — leaving them with an eviction on their record and debt from months of unpaid rent.

Hoang Murphy is the president and CEO of People Serving People, a Minneapolis homeless shelter. He said he saw this happen in 2021, when a pandemic-related eviction moratorium ended.

Some families who come through the shelter have $20,000 in unpaid rental debt, he said.

“If you can’t pay one month rent without additional support, you’re not going to obviously be able to pay three, and so it’s really just kicking the can down the road,” Murphy said. 

Murphy said that doesn’t mean eviction restrictions are always a bad idea — but they need to be paired with financial aid. More time without more money doesn’t change tenants’ situations; but it can take time to access money set aside for rent assistance. 

A city report released last month estimates that the immigration enforcement surge created a need for an additional $15.7 million in rent assistance. Hoang said his organization has seen skyrocketing requests for emergency rental assistance, even as neighbors pool additional money in mutual aid to help each other pay rent.

In an interview with MPR News, Frey said he doesn’t want to extend eviction timelines in the hopes that more money comes through.

“Getting a whole ton of money from the state or the federal government for emergency rental assistance is not guaranteed,” Frey said. “We don't want to be put into place at the city where we are getting people with the expectation that a ton of money is going to come in… and then that money doesn't actually materialize.”

He also cited concerns that landlords would lose money and miss repairs and maintenance.

Supporters of the measure on the council say the city needs a better plan to keep people housed.

“Mayor Frey has not articulated a plan to prevent mass evictions caused by Metro Surge,” said policy authors Robin Wonsley, Jamal Osman, Soren Stevenson, Jason Chavez, Aisha Chughtai and Aurin Chowdhury in a statement following the veto. “Mayor Frey’s veto was with full knowledge that current resources for rental assistance are significantly insufficient to address the need.”

The council will take a vote on whether to override the veto. Supporters will need to flip some votes — an override requires at least nine in favor and the measure passed 7-5 last week.

The authors of the policy said they welcome the proposal for more rental assistance. Frey’s proposed funding, which would come out of the city’s affordable housing fund, will need approval from the city council.

So far, the city of Minneapolis has approved $1 million for rental assistance; Frey’s proposed funding would double that. City council members say they’re working with city staff to get that fund set up and start taking applications for help in the coming weeks.

Council member Jamison Whiting says the Wilson Foundation has also agreed to match that $1 million if the city council passes it.

The city council previously considered a proposal to reallocate money from that fund for rental assistance, but voted it down. Opponents said that money is needed for ongoing affordable housing work. But Whiting said he’s hopeful the council will approve it this time.

“We had an additional million dollars attached to this,” he said. “We have to get this money out the door, and this is an avenue to do it.”

A proposal for rental assistance is also moving through the state Legislature.

Housing advocates in Minneapolis are urging Mayor Jacob Frey to sign a measure giving tenants more time to catch up on rent before facing eviction.  

The City Council passed the measure last week. It requires landlords to give tenants 60 days’ notice before filing for eviction, instead of 30 days. The extension would expire at the end of July. 

Frey has not yet said if he’ll support the policy.

Advocates and council members who voted in favor of the extension say it’ll help residents who missed work out of fear of leaving their home during the federal immigration enforcement operation — and residents who saw a family breadwinner detained.

“It is always more efficient to prevent eviction, rather than waiting for someone to get evicted then working to rehouse them. It is also way more humane,” council member and policy author Robin Wonsley said at a news conference on Monday.

In a statement, Frey’s office said the mayor is meeting with housing experts this week to get more input. 

“Mayor Frey believes the most effective solution is a targeted one, which is why we’re working to get the $1M we recently approved out quickly to help our neighbors,” a spokesperson said in the statement. “Eviction moratoriums or notice extensions are a blunt measure.” 

Eviction filings in the city for the first couple months of 2026 are down slightly from the same time period last year, according to data from HOME Line, a legal help service for Minnesota renters. 

But HOME Line’s co-executive director Eric Hauge said there’s still an emergency.

“Millions and millions of dollars have gone out in mutual aid,” Hauge said. “That was not true last year.” 

Advocates for the policy say mutual aid won’t completely make up for the need. They argue an extension will give people more time to access rent assistance funds — including any additional proposed funding that could come through the state legislature this session. 

In public letters to the city council, several affordable housing providers opposed the measure. They said an extension could put tenants further into debt and could squeeze landlords’ already-tight budgets for repairs and maintenance, ultimately hurting residents. 

Council member Jamal Osman, who supports the measure, said that’s not a reason to veto the policy.

“What is the solution? Is it eviction?” he said at the Monday press conference. “That’s the only other option.” 

Frey has until Wednesday to make a decision on the measure.

Rent was due Sunday, and for some Minnesotans paying it wasn’t possible. Others scraped by, struggling after weeks of economic disruption tied to the recent ICE surge.

In some families, a breadwinner has been deported. In others, people have stopped going to work out of fear, or workplaces have temporarily shut down.

Over the past few months, staff at HOME Line say they’ve heard story after story like these. The organization is a nonprofit that provides free legal help and advocacy for Minnesota tenants.

Jess Zarik is co-executive director of HOME Line, and she joined Minnesota Now to talk about what her team has been hearing, and what she expects in the weeks ahead.

Use the audio player above to listen to the full conversation.

Subscribe to the Minnesota Now podcast on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts.

We attempt to make transcripts for Minnesota Now available the next business day after a broadcast. When ready they will appear here.