Kensington businesses say it’s increasingly hard to get vendors to come out and provide services

Cantina La Martina, a Mexican restaurant that sits across from the Somerset El stop in Kensington, had a blockbuster first year. Dionicio Jiménez, its co-owner and chef, was a 2023 James Beard finalist, and it earned spots in local best-of lists.

Yet behind the scenes, Jiménez and co-owner Mariangeli Alicea Saez have slowly learned that there’s an unspoken cost of having a business in Kensington, a community they lived in and are committed to as it remains the epicenter of one of the country’s largest open-air drug markets.

Saez said companies they rely on to operate smoothly started to cut ties with the restaurant last fall, citing Cantina’s location and safety concerns. Cancellations have added up.

Their insurer dropped them; the person in charge of picking up recycling was not consistently doing so; a specialty food supplier said it wouldn’t be able to continue with deliveries; and their fire alarm company said it couldn’t service Cantina or the tenants above their restaurant. They’ve scrambled for alternatives that are almost always more expensive. The phenomenon has been dubbed the “Kensington tax.”

“Every day, we’re just swimming against the current,” said Saez. “We’re pushing forward and the current keeps pushing us back.”

Kensington Avenue business owners say the stagnant conditions in the neighborhood — the widespread homelessness, drug use and sales, and subsequent gun violence — have made daily operations a struggle, reaching new heights in 2023. The city, in turn, says it’s working diligently, pointing to support available to businesses, and various efforts to help people experiencing homelessness and addiction. Meanwhile, local nonprofits and community groups are creating a list of priorities that residents want the next administration to tackle.

For businesses on the corridor, there’s a fear that time is a luxury they don’t have as the cost of operations creeps up. They say that the city’s efforts are not making enough of a difference and that the hope that change is coming is wearing thin.

Sunny Phanthavong, chef and co-owner of Laotian eatery Vientiane Bistro, has held out hope for a neighborhood resurgence since she opened her business blocks from the Huntingdon El stop in September 2018.

The city was taking aggressive action to address the open-air drug market. Mayor Jim Kenney announced a disaster declaration for Kensington that October. The city disbanded four major encampments, opened dozens of shelter beds, and cleaned up trash and needles. Phanthavong said there was a visible improvement in the neighborhood her husband grew up in.

Phanthavong enrolled in a forgivable loan program that lent her thousands of dollars for restaurant equipment. Vientiane Bistro also took part in a security camera program under which the city helped pay for exterior cameras.

Then the pandemic happened, eating into gains. Almost five years since that sweeping city effort, Phanthavong said many of the same problems persist.

“We see feces, we see people laid out, and we see open wounds on people,” said Phanthavong. “Why are we still having this issue?”

Phanthavong has had her trash company skip collection if there’s an encampment in her alley. Last month, her refrigerator broke and a repairman told her he didn’t feel safe there. She eventually found someone who would do the work, but not before her refrigerated inventory had to be thrown out.

Harris Steinberg, owner of Morris Auto Parts on the 2800 block of Kensington Avenue, said he’s used to the occasional vendor cancellation. His family-owned business has been on the corridor for a century.

He’s used to the high insurance premiums — his doubled in the last three years— and coming up with compromises with vendors. One auto parts vendor, for example, delivers only to his other warehouse on Fifth Street and Rising Sun Avenue. Customers make similar arrangements for pickup at the warehouse even if they’re closer to the Kensington location, he said.

So Steinberg said he wasn’t too surprised when an IT company politely rescinded an estimate after it took note of his address. More troubling to him is difficulty he has filling jobs.

“I don’t even bother to put any ads in anymore until all this clears out,” he said. “All I can do is just try to attract people out of the neighborhood and try to train them.”

Since February, an encampment near the Somerset stop has come to embody the humanitarian crisis in the neighborhood. Businesses say they can do little to ameliorate conditions around their storefronts.

Last month, the city issued notice on the 2800 block of D Street and other stretches where tents and other structures pose public health hazards or obstruct sidewalks. Various agencies helped clear the encampments Aug. 16 according to a city spokesperson. By the city’s count, 28 people accepted services or temporary housing.

Yet disbanding the encampment isn’t a satisfactory solution for Saez, Phanthavong, or Steinberg.

“It’s not sustainable and it’s not real because it doesn’t make a difference that it’s affecting me or it’s affecting my neighbors in the next block, it’s still affecting our community,” said Saez.

The city has disbanded encampments before with little impact on overall homelessness, said the business owners. Vendors still refuse to come to Kensington.

Saez, Phanthavong, and Steinberg said that until the city shuts down the open-air drug market in the neighborhood and helps more people with addiction get into treatment, nothing will change.

For its part, the city points to an array of programs it launched to address the neighborhood’s needs. Programs include a team created in 2020 specifically assigned to reduce encampments, a mini police station dedicated to Kensington patrols that opened in 2021, and expansion of housing opportunities and treatment.

Still, workforce struggles in the social-service sector and the shifting drug supply, which now includes xylazine, which causes wounds, create additional challenges to an “already siloed substance use treatment system,” according to the city’s Opioid Response Unit.

Addressing “derelict” properties where drug use is taking place is also a slow process. The city is seeking to demolish one such property on the 2800 block of Kensington Avenue, which L&I staff declared unsafe, but has seen delays.

» READ MORE: A powerful sedative in Philly’s drug supply is causing severe wounds and agonizing withdrawals. It’s quickly becoming unavoidable.

Nicole Westerman, director of real estate and economic development at the New Kensington Community Development Corporation, which coordinates with other nonprofits, businesses, and community organizations, echoed business owners’ assessments. Despite the millions invested, she said there’s been “no improvement” because people experiencing substance use disorder don’t have a reason to leave or a place to go.

Westerman added that it will take more than businesses to lead change. Residents; city, state, and federal representatives; and the various agencies offering services have to work together, she said.

NKCDC sees an opportunity in January when a new mayor is sworn in. The NKCDC, Harrowgate Civic Association, Somerset Neighbors for Better Living, and others have been trying to engage as many residents as possible to come up with a list of priorities and a trauma-informed strategy to move forward.

To business owners, waiting for a new administration is a painful ask when insurance and bills are due every month. They wonder whether the city would consider some sort of tax incentive for vendors who work with Kensington’s businesses. The Commerce Department has not looked into this sort of arrangement but said it welcomes suggestions and ideas.

Either way, people such as Steinberg say leaving is off the table, so they have few choices. Steinberg said he’s proud that he can say his business has been in the neighborhood for a century.

“Why am I being forced to move because the city has selected this area to be their dumping ground for drugs?” he asked.

For now, he’ll continue to wait.