Skip to content
Life
Link copied to clipboard

Tiny house for homeless man, but he's not out of the woods yet

Some men spend nights in their driveways, tinkering with a vintage car. For Justin Metzler of Sellersville, it's a tiny house.

Justin Metzler, a contractor by trade, provided his driveway for the construction of the expertly framed tiny house. He is determined to make the house structurally sound and beautiful so there is no protest from towns over its design. LAURENCE KESTERSON / For The Inquirer
Justin Metzler, a contractor by trade, provided his driveway for the construction of the expertly framed tiny house. He is determined to make the house structurally sound and beautiful so there is no protest from towns over its design. LAURENCE KESTERSON / For The InquirerRead more

Some men spend nights in their driveways, tinkering with a vintage car. For Justin Metzler of Sellersville, it's a tiny house.

Metzler, 33, has been finding it difficult to tear himself away from the project each night - partly because of the pull any hobbyist feels for his craft, and partly because this particular house has been promised to a 71-year-old man named Sam Dill, who's camping in the woods somewhere in New Jersey.

The strange story of this little house on wheels began last summer, when Austin and Julie Landes, both 32, of Harleysville, visited the final, straggling remnants of a homeless encampment being cleared from public land in Lakewood, N.J.

They were moved by the hardscrabble place just over an hour's drive from their home in Harleysville, and especially by Dill, with whom they felt a connection. Because Austin Landes and Metzler are contractors by trade, they figured they could help him.

"Construction is our niche, so it seemed like the most natural thing to do," Austin said.

But the reality is more complicated than it looks from Metzler's idyllic suburban home, where on a recent evening, children were splashing through a sprinkler on the lawn while a half-dozen men worked on the 110-square-foot house perched on a trailer nearby.

This simple gesture of kindness will be delivered into a confusing, messy, and highly politicized situation, with differing ideas about where it should be parked, how it will be used, and what it will represent.

As for Dill himself? He's skeptical it even exists - and that, if it does, he'll want to live there.

"It might be a place I like," he said. "It might be something I want nothing to do with."

Dill has lived in the woods for about 10 years on and off.

That's also about how long the Lakewood encampment, known simply as Tent City, was around. It was established in 2005 by Steve Brigham, known to most as "Minister Steve," and it housed up to 100 people at its peak. It was shut down last summer after years of legal battles with the township, which has since enacted a no-camping ordinance.

The Landeses learned about Tent City from a friend, filmmaker Jack Ballo, who has completed a documentary about the place.

Ballo also shot a video of Dill watching stoically as his makeshift home was demolished. It has been viewed online more than 800,000 times.

Afterward, Dill received one year of free housing in a hotel, part of the consent agreement under which Tent City was closed.

But that's run out, and many former Tent City residents are returning to the woods. Brigham has established two new campsites outside Lakewood for about 20 homeless people; Dill is the oldest resident.

So the Landeses - who already run service trips to Haiti, clothing drives, and other projects through a nonprofit called Make It Rain - decided to apply their fund-raising and project-management savvy to Dill's cause.

So far, they've raised more than $13,000 toward $15,000 in anticipated materials costs. With help from a steady stream of volunteers, they began work in May and expect to finish in July. They're hoping someone will donate land or a campsite with water and electric hookups.

Austin Landes said embarking on this initiative was an emotional decision, not a pragmatic one.

"We didn't screen this project. It was just, we wanted to help this guy and that's what we did. We're not trying to get into the politics," he said.

But Tent City has been a sticky political issue, and Brigham has his own idea about where the tiny house should go.

Since Tent City closed, Brigham has been living in his car in a Walmart parking lot that's central to both campsites.

"So I'll keep it hooked to my vehicle and we'll bounce between Walmarts," he said. "It will be noticeable to people, and if I can get some churches to notice it, they'll maybe invite me to speak."

To Brigham, it is discriminatory zoning laws and a prohibitive cost of living - more than a lack of mental-health, addiction, or emergency-housing services (there is no homeless shelter in Ocean County) - that prevent people like Dill from getting back on their feet.

Like homeless advocates around the country, he's been intrigued by the tiny-house movement, with its promise of independent, sustainable living. Brigham has long dreamed of a self-sustaining, tiny-house community for the homeless in New Jersey. Dill's house, he thinks, could be the platform from which to share that vision.

Right now, though, he can barely keep his two encampments running. Already, last week, the people in one of them were being evicted.

In response, Brigham rented two campsites to temporarily house the dozen people who had been staying there, including Dill, until he can find a new site.

But Brigham said the homeless there were heartened by the tiny-house project.

"I think they see it as a ray of hope," he said.

Dill, speaking by phone from the temporary campsite, was ambivalent, however.

Despite the crowd-funding on his behalf, he is a reluctant social-media star. To him, the viral video of him was an insult.

"They made a big practical joke of it," he said.

And despite the expertly framed house coming together in Metzler's driveway, Dill has heard rumors: that it's made of concrete, that it's amphibious. At this point, everything he hears he takes with a grain of salt.

Besides, where would he put it?

"If I got to be out in the middle of the woods, I might as well stay in a tent," he said.

The thing about Dill is, he likes to be on his own.

He said he had left Tent City several times over the years but found living in society intolerable. He also tried a homeless shelter for one night but couldn't stand the noise and close quarters. As difficult as living in the woods can be, he prefers it.

Still, the volunteers in Sellersville were optimistic it would work out for Dill. Julie Landes was looking forward to making the house warm and inviting.

"He's been in the elements for so many years. Whatever we can do - I just want to make him a home."

Metzler is focused on making the house, with its dormer window and shingled roof, structurally sound and beautiful.

"The design was important to us as a question of architecture, but also to make sure these are accepted," he said. "We wouldn't want a town to protest this on the grounds that it's just as much of an eyesore as that Tent City they got rid of over in Lakewood."

215-854-5053

@samanthamelamed