Action News Jax reporter Madison Foglio stood across the street from an apartment complex on Wilson Boulevard in Jacksonville’s Cedar Hills neighborhood and described a situation that, in her telling, has gone from “bad” to “hard to believe.” A woman living there says squatters have taken over buildings in her Westside complex, and she claims the landlord has done little to stop it even after months of complaints.
Foglio reported that the resident she spoke with, Karen Jennings, told her she is scared to leave her home without her gun because of the squatters and the people she says have been hanging around the property. Jennings also told Foglio something even more alarming: she believes she is the only person in her building who actually pays rent.
Foglio said Jennings lives in the building behind a palm tree visible from the live shot, with two buildings sitting directly across from where the reporter was positioned. Jennings told Foglio she has been complaining to the leasing office for more than a year, but nothing seems to be getting done.
And the sense of helplessness isn’t subtle in Jennings’ voice. At one point in Foglio’s footage, Jennings says, “I’mma come over here. I’mma be here tonight,” sounding like someone trying to claim a small piece of control in a place that no longer feels controlled at all.
“I Am Not Safe In My Home”
Foglio’s report centered on Jennings’ fear, not as a political talking point, but as a daily reality. “I am not safe in my home. I am not safe,” Jennings told Foglio, repeating herself as if the words are the only way to make the situation sound real.
Jennings has lived at 6259 Wilson Boulevard since 2022, Foglio reported, and she says she first noticed squatters staying at the complex in 2023. Since then, she claims, the problem has expanded.
Jennings told Foglio she has seen “a lot of men on the premises that don’t stay here,” and she says they watch to see when residents leave and when they come home. She said she doesn’t like that, especially because she lives by herself.
Then she described another unsettling detail that makes the place sound less like an apartment community and more like a camp. When residents take out trash, Jennings told Foglio, squatters are in the trash can “before you even get to the dumpster.”
That kind of comment isn’t just about litter. It’s about the feeling that normal life has been replaced by survival behavior, and that nobody with authority is restoring basic order.
A Tour Of Boarded Windows And Open Doors
Foglio said Jennings gave her a tour of the building, and what the camera captured sounded like the physical proof behind the woman’s claims.
Foglio described windows that were boarded up and doors that were wide open. Inside units, she reported seeing dirt, debris, and clutter – signs of places that look abandoned enough for people to move into without permission.
Jennings pointed out areas she said had been broken into and demolished. “This is where the squatters done broke in and demolished the apartment,” she told Foglio.
While Foglio and her crew were on scene, the tension didn’t stay theoretical. Foglio’s report included a moment where someone can be heard shouting, “Don’t come out here no more, baby. Don’t come… I’m going to call the police. Don’t come out here no more,” as the reporter said they saw a squatter leaving one of the apartments.
It’s hard to overstate how unusual that is. Most stories about squatters are told after the fact, with neighbors describing what they think is happening. Foglio’s report suggests the activity was visible even during the visit, which implies the squatters feel bold enough to come and go openly.
The Paper Trail: Citations And Police Calls
Foglio didn’t just rely on one resident’s testimony. She said she reached out to the city to see if the property had code enforcement citations, and what came back was not a simple list.
Foglio reported the city provided an over 100-page document listing every citation made for the property, and she highlighted one specific number: in 2025 alone, there were 32 code enforcement citations.
That kind of count suggests this isn’t a hidden problem. It’s a documented problem, repeated on paper, year after year, in a way that should be visible to owners and managers.
Foglio also reported that the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office has been called to that building multiple times for squatter complaints. From January 1, 2025 through February 25 of this year, she said, JSO was called six times – one of those calls reportedly coming from Jennings this week.
Six calls may not sound like a huge number in a big city, but when it’s tied to one building and one repeated issue, it signals that the situation keeps boiling over and then settling back into the same broken pattern.
And when people get stuck in patterns like this, they stop believing anyone is coming to help, which is where fear turns into desperation.
“They Set The Building On Fire With Me In Bed”
The most frightening part of Foglio’s report came when Jennings described waking up to emergency crews.
“I had laid down and I woke up to the fire truck,” Jennings told Foglio. Then she said something that hits like a punch: “Squatters had done set the building on fire with me in the bed asleep.”
Whether someone intended to start a fire or it happened through careless living conditions, the result is the same for the person inside. Fire doesn’t care if the person who lit it is a squatter, a tenant, or a visitor. It consumes whatever is in reach, including the lives of people who did nothing wrong but keep paying rent anyway.
Foglio reported that after the fire, Jennings says JSO cleared out the squatters in the building, but Jennings doesn’t believe it will last.
“They’ll be back, baby,” Jennings said. “They will be back. Trust me, they’ll be back.”
That prediction sounds like learned experience, not guesswork, and it’s the kind of statement people make after they’ve watched the same problem return over and over while the people in charge act like it’s temporary.
Ownership Changes And A Landlord Who Won’t Talk
Foglio said the building is now owned by Legacy Family Communities LLC, and it used to be owned by People’s Choice Apartments LLC. Ownership changes can happen for many reasons, but in situations like this, they can also create a gap where nobody feels fully responsible for fixing the rot.
Foglio reported Jennings sent numerous emails to the leasing office raising concerns about squatters. When Foglio asked Jennings if the complex had done anything about it, Jennings answered simply: “No, ma’am.”
Foglio said she went to speak with Legacy Family Communities in person and also sent an email asking for a statement about the squatters. The response she got was not an explanation or a plan. She said they told her no one was available to talk at that time.
That’s the kind of answer that can feel like a slap to residents. When people are scared in their own homes, “no one is available” doesn’t sound neutral. It sounds like avoidance.
Why This Story Feels Like A Warning For Other Renters
Foglio’s report lands because it captures a nightmare that many renters quietly fear: what happens when a property falls into neglect, and the people paying rent become the minority in their own building?
Jennings’ claim that she’s the only rent-paying resident in her building – if accurate – suggests a breakdown that goes beyond ordinary crime and into systemic abandonment. Once a place feels unmonitored, it becomes attractive to people looking for shelter without oversight, and it becomes dangerous for the few who remain.
It’s also a reminder that “moving” isn’t a simple solution, even when a place becomes intolerable. Foglio said Jennings hopes to move out in the near future, but with moving expenses and the cost of relocating, she isn’t sure when she can make it happen.
That is the trap. People tell residents to “just leave,” but leaving costs money, time, and stability – exactly the things people in fragile housing situations often don’t have.
Foglio ended her report with Jennings caught between fear and finances, hoping for a way out while watching for signs that the squatters will return. In the meantime, the picture painted by Action News Jax is stark: boarded windows, open doors, repeated citations, police calls, and one resident saying she doesn’t feel safe sleeping in the place she still pays for.
Growing up in the Pacific Northwest, John developed a love for the great outdoors early on. With years of experience as a wilderness guide, he’s navigated rugged terrains and unpredictable weather patterns. John is also an avid hunter and fisherman who believes in sustainable living. His focus on practical survival skills, from building shelters to purifying water, reflects his passion for preparedness. When he’s not out in the wild, you can find him sharing his knowledge through writing, hoping to inspire others to embrace self-reliance.
