By Bert Stratton | Wall Street Journal
Lakewood, Ohio
I’m a landlord with a manila folder marked “coronavirus late payers.” In April, 30% of my storefront tenants were late or delinquent. It could be worse, I suppose. Maybe May will be.
The butcher was late. I knew he was good for the rent, and he paid. He’s doing decent takeout.
The barber pays in cash, with 20s. He’s waiting for government money. He told me he’s paid his car loan, his electric bill—everybody but me. He moved in with his parents.
The driving school is a tough case. Though I’ve known the proprietor for 14 years, he sent me a letter addressed “to whom it may concern.” I once asked him his thoughts on the Middle East because he’s Lebanese. He said, “That’s over there, we’re over here.” Meaning, we’re in Ohio and we’re talking business, period. He can’t pay right now, he said in his letter. We’re working on a plan.
