How this small, rural Utah community issue brings the housing crisis into focus

A new zoning ordinance adopted in October in Richfield has residents at an extended-stay motel fearing that they won't have a roof over their heads. The panic is a microcosm of the affordable housing crisis looming large over Utah.

A new zoning ordinance adopted in October in Richfield has residents at an extended-stay motel fearing that they won't have a roof over their heads. The panic is a microcosm of the affordable housing crisis looming large over Utah. (Bailee Makell)


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RICHFIELD — Kim Campbell has lived in Sevier County since she was a third grader. Her mother, Karen Balch, relocated their family to Utah many years ago in an attempt to escape the hustle and bustle of California.

Now, a new zoning ordinance adopted in October by the Richfield City Council has Campbell, along with 73 other residents, fearing they won't have a roof over their heads.

"Our home is being taken away from us and the housing industry here is off the charts," Campbell said. "Nobody can afford a $425,000 house or $1,800 a month for rent."

As a single mother, Campbell looks after her two 13-year-old children, as well as her 75-year-old mother. In June, the family moved into Ville 647, an old Motel 6 along Main Street in Richfield purchased by Keith Warburton, a Salt Lake City-based property manager who buys distressed properties — often old hotels — and turns them into affordable housing units.

"If it was just me, I could go live in a camper or find somewhere else to go, but my mom has certain medications that she takes and I have two kids. I'm kind of in a bind here because there's literally nothing in Sevier County to rent. I've been trying to buy a house for over a year," Campbell said.

Whether the threat of eviction is as imminent as it seems to residents of Ville 647, the panic that has ensued in Richfield is a microcosm of a bigger issue looming large over the Beehive state — the affordable housing crisis.

Kim Campbell sits with her mother, Karen Balch in the lobby of Ville 647 in Richfield on March 22. A new zoning ordinance adopted in October by the Richfield City Council has residents of Ville 647 fearing that they won't have a roof over their heads.
Kim Campbell sits with her mother, Karen Balch in the lobby of Ville 647 in Richfield on March 22. A new zoning ordinance adopted in October by the Richfield City Council has residents of Ville 647 fearing that they won't have a roof over their heads. (Photo: Logan Stefanich, KSL)

Richfield Mayor Bryan Burrows told KSL.com the city recognized the ordinance surrounding hotels and long-term rentals needed to be updated after concerns were raised about the number of hotels that were operating as long-term rentals, potentially detracting from tourism dollars that could be brought in by travelers looking to stay in Richfield.

The new ordinance, which went into effect in January, states that rooms regularly rented on a weekly or monthly basis exceeding a transient rental term of fewer than 30 days will be considered extended-stay rooms. Hotels are only able to rent up to 25% of total rooms as extended-stay rooms and for only up to 90 days to the same individual, for a total period of 180 days.

"We did a redefinition of what a long-term rental was and we give them a 90-day stay," Burrows said. "The whole idea behind this thing was to get these motels up to code because these rooms aren't designed for (a) long-term stay."

Under the new ordinance, if someone reached their 90-day-limit, they wouldn't have the option to move to another extended-stay hotel in Richfield and instead would be forced to seek housing through another avenue.

Losing community

Jason Best and his wife, Ashley Best, are the property managers at Ville 647. They say they understand why the City Council adopted the new ordinance, but they feel the situation could have been handled better.

"I can understand the basis of how they were going about it, but they went about it wrong," Jason Best said Tuesday. "I know that they're not responsible to house people, that's people's responsibility, but these are their constituents, these are their citizens and they have a duty to protect their lower-end of the community."

Ashley and Jason Best, property managers of Ville 647 are pictured in the lobby of Ville 647 in Richfield on March 22. A new zoning ordinance adopted in October by the Richfield City Council has residents of Ville 647 fearing that they won't have a roof over their heads.
Ashley and Jason Best, property managers of Ville 647 are pictured in the lobby of Ville 647 in Richfield on March 22. A new zoning ordinance adopted in October by the Richfield City Council has residents of Ville 647 fearing that they won't have a roof over their heads. (Photo: Logan Stefanich, KSL)

The folks who reside at Ville 647 said the ordinance has not only forced them to face potentially losing their housing, they also feel like they're going to be losing a valuable sense of community as well.

Northern Nanpuya and his family were moving to the Richfield area for a new job that would have provided him with a house and a car. Instead, the owner of the company that hired Nanpuya passed away and the new owner wasn't willing to grant him the benefits provided by the previous owner, he said.

"We lost the house, we lost the car, so I ended up having to find a place, (in an) emergency. They opened the doors here for us," Nanpuya said, as tears welled in his eyes. "If it wasn't for them, I'd be out on the street with my family right now."

Instead, at Ville 647, Nanpuya has found a home and an extension of his family.

"This is a family. Everyone here looks out for each other. When I go to work and I need someone to watch (my son), I have someone here that can watch him. When my wife needs someone or I'm not available to watch my son, there's someone here I can trust," he said.

Without the option to move to another extended-stay hotel, which is what the new ordinance states, many residents don't know when or where they'll find other housing.


We lost the house, we lost the car, so I ended up having to find a place, (in an) emergency (due to a change in job status). If it wasn't for them, I'd be out on the street with my family right now.

–Northern Nanpuya


"I'm a little scared to leave," Balch said. "This is our home. This is where we live and celebrate our birthdays and holidays and whatever."

Ville 647 has also given families the chance to be together again, she said.

Casey Batchelor-Gage said she recently regained custody of her child from the Utah Division of Child and Family Services.

"If I lose my housing, (and) I have to move while we're under this six-month trial period, my daughter goes back," Gage said.

Another woman told the council on Tuesday that she called the Bests, at Ville 647, in the middle of the night to escape a relationship and find safe housing for her and her children.

"I was able to get out of a relationship and I called her and she and her husband gave me and my kids a place to stay. I was able to reach out to the women's shelter to get out of what I was in and I'm grateful for that. That is why I'm here today, most people are scared to walk out of it," the woman, who asked to remain anonymous, said. "I'm very, very grateful to them ... to be able to go somewhere where I knew me and my kids were safe."

Even new residents of Ville 647 spoke fondly about the community that they'd found there.

Jerry Keimach is a veteran who moved to Richfield from St. George, seeking a slower, quieter lifestyle.


I can't afford apartments, I'm not going to pay two grand a month for a hotel — I'd be sleeping in my car or going from hotel to hotel trying to find the best rate. It's a savior. It's a godsend for me to be able to live in this community.

–Jerry Keimach, Ville 647 resident


"The managers, Jason and Ashley, they're phenomenal people — it makes it worthwhile living there," Keimach said. "If it wasn't for them — I can't afford apartments, I'm not going to pay two grand a month for a hotel — I'd be sleeping in my car or going from hotel to hotel trying to find the best rate. It's a savior. It's a godsend for me to be able to live in this community."

Rumors and conspiracies

Despite the ordinance, Burrows was adamant that the last thing the city wants to do is displace people from their homes.

"We have no intention of putting people out on the street. If that's happening, it's not coming from the city," the mayor said.

Before the ordinance was changed, Warburton had purchased Ville 647 and was operating it as an extended-stay hotel. Somewhere along the line, there was a dispute between Warburton and the city surrounding the proper licensing and zoning for the business and the allegations that the building being used to house folks wasn't up to code and contained potential fire hazards.

The mayor said that he isn't sure where the panic about evictions is coming from, but believes the issue boils down to "a lot of conspiracy theories and a lot of accusations and a lot of assumption."

"I don't know how those things got started, I don't know why they got started. We've been trying to work with people to upgrade their facilities and bring them up to code and to standard," Burrows said.

Moving forward

When Warburton started flipping distressed properties two years ago, he said he had "no idea (about) the depth of the housing crisis in the state of Utah."

As Utah's home prices have skyrocketed at an "unfortunate" and "unsustainable" rate, Utah Gov. Spencer Cox said more Utahns have been forced to the outskirts of the Wasatch Front (places like Richfield) in order to afford a home. But even those more affordable locations, the governor said, are "going up as well, which means, ultimately, you end up with more people experiencing homelessness."

In December, Cox unveiled his proposed budget for 2022, which includes $228 million for housing initiatives. That entails about $100 million for developing affordable housing and $128 million to develop deeply affordable housing for the homeless, including up to $20 million to help pay for the first phase of a tiny home village being planned in Salt Lake City.

This budget should translate to about 1,100 new low-income units across the state, Cox said.

"We buy (a) property that we feel like is going to be suited well for a place that has an extreme housing demand. Richfield has a crazy housing demand," Warburton said. "We looked at the area and said, 'This is a place where we can come and provide our services and people will need it immediately.'"

After the dust had settled from an eventful Richfield City Council meeting Tuesday, which featured comments from Warburton and Burrows, the two parties agreed to put the licensing and zoning issues behind them in order to bring Ville 647 into compliance with code, while ensuring the residents can continue living there.

"Let's move forward from here and get this thing resolved because this isn't how we want to live in the community and it's not how we should be living as human beings," the mayor said.

"Agreed," Warburton said.

"Let's get it resolved, whatever that takes," Burrows said.

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Logan Stefanich is a reporter with KSL.com, covering southern Utah communities, education, business and tech news.
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