In March 2022, people living in the Lakeside Park Estates mobile home park in Hollywood, Florida learned that they were being evicted. The park's owner, Trinity Broadcasting Network, has decided to close it. In many cases, tenants owned their houses, but not the land they were on. Residents, most of whom were low-income and many of whom were elderly, had until the end of the year to decide where to go next. “Last Days at Trinity Lake,” a patient but infuriating short film by Charlotte Cooley, follows three women—Nancy Sanderson, Nancy Fleischman, and Laurie Laney—as they navigate the ensuing months of uncertainty and turmoil. It's a detailed account of the consequences of corporate greed and the housing crisis, made all the more acute by the fact that the landlord in this case is the largest religious television network in the world.
Early in Cooley's film, one of her characters evokes a common stereotype about trailer parks—that they are dirty places filled with dirty people. The film, lit by soft sea light, paints a different picture: residents tend their small yards, ride bikes with friends and watch ibises fly low over the lake. For Laney, a free spirit with long hair, the park means independence; she mocks her evicted neighbors who decide to move into apartment buildings. For Sanderson, a good-natured woman who struggles with her memory, the park is a source of care and companionship, and where her friends can look out for her. Fleischman worked for Trinity off and on for two decades; now the company she credits with saving her soul is putting her out on the street. “They said they were going to help us move, but they didn’t,” she says. “And when I call them for help, they don’t answer.”
The specter of homelessness looms as women turn to the Hollywood City Council for help and receive quotes for apartments they can't afford. They remain amazingly hopeful in the face of failure; one gets the feeling that this is not the first time these women have faced a seemingly insurmountable obstacle. “I might like it,” says Sanderson, who is facing a move to Pennsylvania. “Being in the snow, making a snowman.” But her eyes betray her fear of leaving her routines and relationships behind; One of the film's great sadnesses is how Sanderson's bright smile dims as the months pass and her options for escape dwindle. The three women's struggles highlight a much larger issue: The housing affordability crisis is hitting older Americans especially hard, with people over fifty being the fastest-growing age group experiencing homelessness.
Months pass, demolition crews fill the park, and Laney sells most of what she has at a swap meet. She tells Cooley about a dream she had a few months ago about a ficus tree. “All these branches, all these leaves and all these birds were cut off,” she said. “All the branches and fingers of life have disappeared.” She woke up from a nightmare in a sweat. The same day I received an eviction notice.
