Affordable housing co-op on U’s fraternity row tries to start fresh after chaos and crime nearly shut it down

Maxeem Konrardy has fond memories of living at the Students’ Cooperative in Dinkytown, a stately 1920s-era house on fraternity row, years ago.

“It was the first place [that] ... felt like a real home for me,” he said.

But after the pandemic and George Floyd riots rocked Minneapolis in 2020, tenants paying the modest rent moved out and chaos moved in. The house hosted 400-person parties, walls were splashed with graffiti and large fights broke out outside. In 2022, a 15-year-old was shot and squatters took over. Officials said they wanted the place shut down.

Now, co-op alumni, many also University of Minnesota graduates, have rallied to get the house back on track. An international co-op advocacy group stepped in to help, and last winter, residents began moving back in after the city granted the house a lodging license again.

“It’s a small miracle that the building didn’t get condemned,” said Tom Baumgartner, who lived there for the last 10 months and is also a co-op alumnus from a decade ago. “A lot of people have put in just a heartbreaking amount of time and energy and money into making this happen again.”

Now, the Students’ Cooperative stands at a critical juncture — it’s up and running with one-third occupancy and a governing board, but it must attract more residents quickly to keep paying interest on a $1.5 million loan that funded the house’s extensive repairs, Baumgartner said. Rents now range from $512 to $950 a month for singles, doubles and one triple room.

“We’re in this position where it’s no longer nearly as affordable,” Baumgartner said, who paid $275 a month to live there over a decade ago.

And keeping the co-op going requires more than just bodies. The house needs to re-establish a consistent culture and sense of community to thrive, Baumgartner said.

The stucco house with two large columns and a wide front porch has stood for more than 100 years in Dinkytown, unaffiliated with the U. Past residents, many U students, described it as a friendly place where residents played guitar or fixed bikes on the front lawn and members prepared meals together in the basement’s communal kitchen.

The 18-bedroom house was built in about 1920 and became an affordable housing co-op for students 20 years later. Residents served on a board that made decisions about how it would be run, shared common spaces and did chores to keep costs low.

Ian Morris lived in the co-op on and off from 1994 to 1997 with more than two dozen other people.

“It ran very well because as people moved in, there was the traditions, procedure,” he said, adding that the co-op taught him many life lessons.

By late 2021, the house’s governance structure was falling apart. The house was damaged from parties. Residents who weren’t paying rent moved in; some were underage. They eventually took over the house.

In May 2022, university police brought in trailers with cameras and lighting; police increased patrols.

The same month, co-op alumni became members of the co-op board and began the eviction process with several people. A 15-year-old boy was shot in the leg the night eviction notices were delivered and 50 bullet casings were recovered nearby. At least one person was evicted and the house was boarded up.

“It was a big step for alumni to step in and offer advice initially but then assert authority and take over,” Morris said. “We made it through the really dangerous part.”

The university began paying for 24-hour security there after the shooting. They wanted the place condemned and shut down for good.

“The forward action of the university is to seek pathways for our local partners to stop this dangerous behavior occurring at this property ... [and] to permanently change the use of this property for the benefit and the safety of the community,” Myron Frans, the U’s senior vice president for finance and operations, said at a meeting.

Because the co-op had an outstanding $100,000 loan for stucco repair through the U’s real estate subsidiary, the U began proceedings to foreclose on the house based on a breach of contract.

That never occurred because the co-op refinanced its loan with another lender.

After the squatters left, city officials entered the building to assess the damage, said Scott Wasserman, a city spokesperson. Health inspectors ordered a list of repairs to be made before the co-op could renew its lodging license.

A national co-op advocacy and development group also stepped in, offering to help with the evictions and reorganize the business side of the co-op.

“[The university] did not want to see it rise from the ashes,” said Brel Hutton-Okpalaeke, director of development services for the North American Students of Cooperation (NASCO), an association of student housing co-ops in Canada and the U.S.

But Hutton-Okpalaeke also said it was reasonable that U officials wanted to shutter the place, given the amount of time and information they had and the danger it presented.

He said the organization regularly helps co-ops in distress get back on their feet, but this was a difficult case. He created plans for the building’s repairs and the co-op’s finances, including taking out a new $1.5 million loan on the house through several cooperative lenders.

There are about 10,000 units or rooms in student housing co-ops in the U.S. and Canada, said Hutton-Okpaleake, including Commonwealth Terrace and Riverton in Minneapolis. Co-op numbers have remained steady nationally over the last decade.

Repairs to the Dinkytown house were completed throughout 2023 and into 2024. The house’s floor joists had cracked under the weight of one party. Many walls and a staircase had to be rebuilt; the kitchen was a biohazard because of mouse feces, Baumgartner said.

Most repairs have been completed, though there are small jobs left to finish, he said. The co-op association is still monitoring the co-op’s finances and training residents.

“This place takes work but it’s very intentional,” Baumgartner said. “It’s about community, it’s about culture.”

The city issued a new license in January 2024, requiring tenant background checks, no guests staying for longer than a week and that university students make up 75% of tenants. The co-op had to formulate a security plan with police, too.

Jack Nolan, a member of the Delta Tau Delta fraternity, said he’s lived next door to the co-op since the fall and said there haven’t been many problems recently.

A member of another fraternity, who declined to give his name, said he saw someone scavenging in his house’s back parking lot and worried it might be a co-op resident. He said he thinks the co-op puts fraternity members at risk.

Ten people live at the co-op now, including Victor Teng, a graduate student who is the co-op’s vice president. He moved there in September because of the convenient location.

“I’m not nervous, but I’m aware [of past problems],” he said. “At this moment, it’s important to build trust.”

Resident Terra Talamh moved in about a month ago, choosing the co-op over a regular apartment, which she said would likely be lonely and more expensive.

“Everyone just has the same idea of wanting to get along with each other,” Talamh said.

Finding new tenants has been an unexpected challenge, co-op alumni said, adding that there always used to be a waiting list. Frequent turnover has been an issue. Some people are still scared of the place because of its past.

“The short version is that if we don’t get enough students in there, we’re going to run out of money,” Baumgartner said. “This is very serious.”

But everyone involved in the co-op said they believe it will survive.

“It will happen,” said Morris, the tenant from the ‘90s. “There will be problems along the way ... but we will get there.”