Albert Law Jr. hung out with Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig in the heyday of the Yankees’ Murderer’s Row. As a pro tennis player during the Depression, he lived “like a millionaire.” After inheriting his father’s pipe and steel company, he made a fortune, and eventually was able to give his daughter and son-in-law enough for a down payment on a house in Los Altos.
But decades of drinking took their toll on Law’s fortune, and nearly took his life. It was not until his daughter told him, 21 years ago, to stay away until he sobered up, that Law finally entered rehab. He’s been sober ever since.
Last week, a few months after selling back his mobile home to a landowner looking to convert his park to higher-density housing, Law was among the first to move into San Antonio Place, the sparkling new 118-unit set of “efficiency studios” located on San Antonio Road on the edge of Central Expressway.
Law had attended every city council meeting about the $25 million affordable housing proposal. After it was approved, he applied for the lottery before anyone else, and became a familiar face at the construction site.
“It seemed like everybody was fighting about it,” he said. “I just wanted them to build it.”
Law and his new neighbors have come to San Antonio Place from all walks of life. Longtime residents, twenty-somethings, retail workers from San Antonio Shopping Center, caregivers for the elderly and the elderly themselves are all looking for help as they try to find a way to live in a city where the housing market gets more exclusive all the time.
San Antonio Place, where the rooms cost between $250 and $705 a month, does not look like “projects.” The rooms are unique, varying in size and design, with high ceilings and separate kitchens. Law’s first-floor corner apartment brims with natural light, while several of the units on the higher floors have clear views of Black Mountain.
“We believe quality of living should be the same for everyone regardless of income level,” said Vanessa Cooper, project manager for Charities Housing. After cobbling together grants and loans from various local, state and federal agencies, Cooper and her co-workers teamed with local government, businesses and community groups to ensure locals had first crack at the lottery.
Normally, only a quarter of applicants pass through the strict background checks Charities Housing administers at its other developments. But it can take more than just good credit and a full-time job to make it in Mountain View. Of the hundreds who applied to live at San Antonio Place, a full 80 percent qualified for a unit or a spot on the waiting list.
“The rate of approval was just incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it,” said Cooper.
For some residents, like Izzie LeMieux-Giardini, work is hardly an immediate concern.
LeMieux-Giardini read about San Antonio Place in the newspaper last year. At the time, she was too sick to work or even take care of herself, and was living with her sister on Evandale Avenue. When her sister’s nursing job at El Camino Hospital ended, the pair moved north, to an apple orchard in Oregon with no heat and little comfort.
Finally back on her feet, she spent three days last week moving all of her possessions into her new apartment at San Antonio Place.
“I’m not moving [again]. They’re going to be dragging me out of here in a box,” said LeMieux-Giardini, beaming as she showed off the studio that she chose for its orientation towards the morning sun.
Mountain View has millions of dollars set aside to build affordable housing, the product of fees from an influx of high-priced new developments. Builders here can set aside 10 percent of their units at discounted rates for low-income renters, but most take the second option: paying 3 percent of the total sale price to a city fund.
Detractors of so-called “inclusionary zoning” say it drives up the cost for everyone else. Council member Matt Pear makes the point repeatedly, and Vice Mayor Greg Perry was conspicuously absent from San Antonio Place’s 2004 groundbreaking ceremony and a recent tour for council members.
But for folks like Law, it’s one of the only ways they can live in this town.
“I made some very bad investments, half-drunk,” he said. “I went through a fortune. So this is what I get. … This is all I need.”
