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The want ads describe the houses as investors' dreams, ready to be remodeled for a preservation award. Handy-man specials within walking distance of shops, restaurants and entertainment.
The prices sound almost too cheap to be true in Tampa's stronger-than-Popeye real estate market: $69,900, $89,900, price negotiable. Then again, some of the houses have no kitchens or baths. Just plenty of character and history.
At any given time, Realtor Fran Costantino has about 30 properties for sale. One week, she had 50. Her ads dot local classifieds. Look for the oval "Costantino and Company" logo.
SHE CONCENTRATES on East Ybor, a long neglected, former immigrant neighborhood a few steps east of Ybor City and south of Interstate 4. To most people, it's a long ways from Mayberry. Crime, drugs and trash overshadow the gingerbread and shotgun-style houses that date back 100 years.
When Costantino opened her office on Fourth Avenue in 1999, crack addicts lived next door and thieves snatched her lawn furniture if given a chance. Prostitutes stood along the streets, waving at prospective clientele with the shirts off their backs.
"That's how I came to work every day," she said. "People thought I was crazy."
Rather than leave, Costantino, 60, dug in her heels. She wanted East Ybor the way she remembered it as a child, when it was a tight-knit, bustling community.
First up, she joined 16 organizations, of which she serves on the boards of four, including the Barrio Latino Commission and the Ybor City Development Corp. She made good friends with the police and didn't hesitate to dial code enforcement.
"It just goes to show what a mosquito can do in a tent," she says with a twinkle.
EARLY ON, her clients were mostly longtime Ybor residents who had moved and were renting out their homes. Maintaining them had become difficult, so when Costantino came along, many people opted to sell.
Today, most of her clients are investors who buy older properties, fix them up and resell them. They typically sell to lawyers, architects and small business owners who prefer a house over an office tower and go home at night.
Although condos and single-family homes are sprouting in Ybor along the edges of Seventh Avenue, residential development east of 22nd Street is still some years away, she says. A preacher who moved to East Ybor left because of vandals, as did a MacDill Air Force Base serviceman who didn't feel safe.
"It's hard to get people to live here because of the crime," said Costantino, who lives in a highrise along Bayshore Boulevard.
BUT CHANGE is coming. Since 1999, she guesses she's sold hundreds of homes, including one she flipped four times. She fields an average of 30 calls a day, which she logs in a notebook in perfect Catholic school penmanship.
The long hours and seven-days-a-week schedule are worth it, says Costantino, who knows her way around East Ybor like she knows her own kitchen. When she gets tired, she heads to New York, the city that never sleeps.
She's most proud of her efforts to expand Ybor's historic district to East Ybor, between Adamo Drive and I-4. The designation means all redevelopment plans must meet historic guidelines.
SHE CREDITS her family name with getting the revival rolling. Her grandfather, Francesco Costantino, came to East Ybor from Sicily in 1906 and started a concrete business, making sidewalks and tombstones for families who lost children. Her cousin Joe still runs the tombstone company out of a shed behind Fran's office.
In the next five years, she envisions East Ybor becoming the next upscale Hyde Park, which not too long ago suffered from decay. She sees impressive bungalows, corner stores, and bed and breakfasts lining the brick streets. She sees children playing on the sidewalks.
Friends tell her she's been hanging downwind of crack pipes for too long. She laughs it off. No time for doubts. Her phone is ringing.
THE LAST DROP: I went jogging along Bayshore Boulevard Monday night, wondering how - or if - the balustrade and houses would have survived Hurricane Charley. For once, I didn't envy the people living in the waterfront mansions.
- Susan Thurston can be reached at 226-3394 or thurston@sptimes.com