For the past several weeks the Cambodians of Uptown have been telling anyone who will listen the sad tale of how the county snatched away their land and sold it to someone else. Observers say it’s a classic case of trusting, easily intimidated newcomers getting victimized by a complicated system. “This case is like the layers of an onion–it gets stinkier and stinkier as you peel it away, and after a while it just makes you cry,” says Mike Quigley, a Cook County board commissioner from the north lakefront. “The Cambodians got screwed–man, did they get screwed. They survived Pol Pot, and then they didn’t survive us.”
Over the years the garden of vegetables, fruits, and flowers was tended by temple elders, who spent hours each week weeding, planting, and harvesting. Occasionally someone would complain about the early-morning gong-banging ceremonies, but by and large, the Cambodians got along well with their neighbors. “They’re good people,” says Roberta Stadler, who lives on the same block and is president of the Argyle-Magnolia-Glenwood Block Club. “Their garden was lovely.”
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In fact, the county sent them very few notices about their property. That’s because the Cook County treasurer’s office, which distributes tax bills and other tax-related stuff, mails such information, as a matter of policy, to the last taxpayer of record instead of to the property’s deed holder. And the last taxpayer of record for 1258 W. Argyle was Ruhloff. So instead of mailing relevant tax notices to the Cambodians, county officials mailed them to Ruhloff. Eventually they started mailing them to a fellow named Daniel Herman. “Herman had nothing to do with Argyle, but he had bought another building from Ruhloff,” says Seth. “So because Herman lived where Ruhloff used to live, the county sent him the bills for Argyle Street–even though Herman never lived on Argyle. Isn’t that confusing?” For about a year Herman paid the bills, until he realized that the county was mistakenly billing him for property he’d never owned.
In 1997 the county placed the tax-delinquent property in a scavenger sale, and on August 12 it was bought by a north-side resident named Andres Schcolnik. “We didn’t know anything about this,” says Sith. “We didn’t know it wasn’t part of PIN 046. We didn’t know we owed taxes. We didn’t know it was sold at a scavenger sale. We didn’t even know that Mr. Schcolnik bought it.” (Schcolnik didn’t return phone calls for comment.)
Neither Pucinski nor anyone else from the county called or contacted Sith. So the temple leaders figured the matter had been resolved. “What other explanation could there be?” says Seth. “We wrote the letter. They did not respond. It’s over. Right?”
The judge then got very specific. He would not assign title of the property to Schcolnik until he heard from the Cambodians. “If they show up and they have some position to take I will hear it,” he said. “If they fail to show up pursuant to your notice by certified mail, return receipt requested, and you have proof that you served them, I will issue a tax deed to the subject property….There may have been a mistake made–not from your end, but apparently from their end. I will hear what they have to say or, at least, give them an opportunity.”
On November 18, 1998, Sith wrote a check to Schcolnik and Wilson for $4,060. “It was for the down payment and property taxes,” says Sith.
