In a Mexican-American enclave of Houston, residents are expressing outrage over developers’ plans to transform their neighborhood’s landscape. The proposals involve replacing traditional single-family homes with sleek townhouses and condominiums, a change that has sparked significant resistance.

In Denver Harbor, a community with deep-rooted history, locals are invoking a longstanding city ordinance to block the construction of what they view as incongruous and ubiquitous rental properties. This legal maneuver is their way of preserving the area’s distinctive charm and cultural fabric.

Delphina Torres, who has called this neighborhood home since she was five, cherishes the continuity and connections she has fostered over the years. Her backyard is a verdant haven, yielding fresh produce, while her front porch serves as a social hub where she cracks pecans and exchanges stories with neighbors.

Torres fondly recounts the sense of community that thrives in her neighborhood, where impromptu chats on the street often lead to lively block parties. However, she notes a stark contrast with residents of nearby townhouses, who, she says, rarely engage in these communal activities or even casual conversations.

“I just want to keep it the way it’s been here all my life,” Torres shared with the Daily Mail, expressing a sentiment echoed by many in her community.

To safeguard this way of life, Torres and her fellow residents are turning to Chapter 42 of the Houston Municipal Code. By filing applications with the city planning commission, they aim to halt developments that threaten to alter the neighborhood’s character irreversibly.

Since Houston has no citywide zoning laws – which essentially allows people to build whatever they want, wherever they want – Chapter 42 has become the last line of defense for residents who don’t want high-density housing anywhere near them.

Chapter 42 has been around since the 1980s and through neighborhood petitions, residents can block developers from subdividing lots for townhome projects.

Rene Porras, 75, estimates that over the last nine years, he and his group Denver Harbor Cares has ‘protected’ around 2,000 homes using Chapter 42.

‘This city is pretty much operated by developers and investors,’ he said. ‘They want to make a trillion dollars and run everybody out of here.’

‘They hate what we’re doing with Chapter 42. We’ve probably cost them millions and millions of dollars,’ he added.

Porras and Torres have submitted what are called block petitions and area petitions to stop developers from chopping up a single family home lot into as many as eight units.

As the name suggests, block petitions protect a single side of a city block from further subdivision. A simple majority, 51 percent, of the homeowners on that block needs to vote yes for it to be successful.

Area petitions, meanwhile, preserve the character and lot sizes of an entire section of a neighborhood. Because this type of petition could stop future development on up to 500 lots, it requires more residents to vote in the affirmative – 55 percent.

Once the city approves these petitions, developers cannot subdivide lots or build multi-unit projects in the protected area for 40 years; any new construction must be strictly single-family residential. 

Torres claimed that she has been able to drive out builders who were likely planning to pursue multiple apartment units that would have a greater rental income potential than a single home.

‘If I put an application before [the developer] does, it’ll hold his application, and then, more likely than not, he’ll end up reselling, because he’s not going to want to put up a regular house when he probably wanted to put up townhouses. We’ve already seen that happen,’ she said.

Although Torres and Porras said they are happy with their progress so far, they explained that the process of getting residents on board can be extremely difficult. 

‘Some neighbors don’t want to sign,’ Torres said. ‘Really, I don’t understand. I tell them, “It doesn’t prevent you from not selling your property. It just keeps this characteristic of our neighborhood the same.” But some don’t want to sign, or some don’t trust you.’

On top of that, Porras claims the city does not support volunteers’ efforts in Denver Harbor because it stands to gain more property tax revenue if lots are subdivided.

The Daily Mail approached all 16 council members for their position on Chapter 42 and four replied back by publication time.

A representative for Council Member Tarsha Jackson, who represents parts of Denver Harbor, responded to rumors about the council possibly eliminating Chapter 42 in its current form.

Her statement said there are no plans to do so and that Jackson would not support its elimination.

Council Member Mario Castillo, who represents the southern tip of Denver Harbor, said he is ‘a big supporter of Chapter 42.’

Council Member Tiffany Thomas declined to comment and Council Member Joaquin Martinez did not offer a response before publication time.

Porras continues wielding Chapter 42 as a weapon against developers because he is afraid that Denver Harbor will someday resemble the Second Ward, an area ranked the third most gentrified in the nation by a 2018 study.

‘That was a Hispanic neighborhood. There’s nothing but condominiums and townhouses now, and you don’t even see Hispanic people there anymore. That’s what we’re trying to do here,’ he said.

Porras said in the areas of Denver Harbor he and volunteers haven’t gotten to yet, townhomes have started to appear.

‘We know who they are, because all the homes used to be owned by a Ramirez or a Rodriguez and now, they’re all owned by developers who don’t care about the neighborhood,’ he said.

Torres stressed that Denver Harbor is an neighborhood with a lot of seniors. She hopes that she can convince them that maintaining the tight-knit feel of the community is worth fighting for, even after they’re gone.

‘I’m trying to tell them it doesn’t stop them from selling, but the next person that buys it will keep the house the way it is,’ she said.

‘The people that have worked all their lives…and bought their house for like $20,000 back in the seventies and work hard to maintain it – I sure don’t want that to be changed.’