There is a man in Portland who profits from a concentration camp. The city knows it. The city has been told, repeatedly, by thousands of residents. The city has done nothing. Now that man also owns a burned-out warehouse that may contain a dead body, has poisoned a neighborhood with asbestos, and shut down the only public park in one of the city's most expensive districts.

His name is Stuart Lindquist. And Portland's government keeps finding new ways to help him.

The Fire

On the afternoon of August 2, a fire broke out on the first floor of the Centennial Mills warehouse in the Pearl District. Within 35 minutes, flames had engulfed all eight stories. The 116-year-old building — a flour mill that once processed grain from barges on the Willamette River — collapsed floor by floor into its own basement.

More than 100 firefighters and a dozen trucks responded. They never went inside.

The building's interior was too degraded. Holes in the floors, stairwells torn out, 20-inch-thick timber beams serving as a massive fuel load. Fire crews fought the blaze defensively from the street, pouring water through windows of a structure spokesperson Rick Graves described as a "large chimney, if you will, with hot spots occurring." A water tower on the roof threatened to "roll like a bowling ball" if the structure gave way. Northwest Naito Parkway shut down. Amtrak suspended Portland-to-Seattle service. Hundreds of Portlanders gathered in the adjacent Fields Park to watch a piece of their city burn.

Five days later, human remains detection dogs alerted twice in the rubble.

No one has been identified. The building was known to have squatters — mostly teenagers, according to residents who watched them come and go. The owner had been warned.

The burned-out shell of Centennial Mills with all interior floors collapsed

The Landlord

Stuart Lindquist owns the building that houses Portland's U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement facility on the South Waterfront, where ICE and DHS have deployed chemical weapons against immigrant rights protesters for months. He makes an estimated $2.4 million annually renting space to ICE.

Last September, the city issued Lindquist a land use violation for holding detainees past a 12-hour limit — a violation that followed a petition with over 19,000 signatures demanding accountability. Almost a year later, the city has collected zero fines.

But inaction is not the same as disinterest. The city has been actively engaged in Lindquist's business — just not on the side of the public.

In August 2025, when a school next to the ICE facility was forced to relocate because of the chemical weapons deployed nearby, City Councilmember Mitch Green fast-tracked a permit for the school to move into another Lindquist-owned building. In October 2025, while Trump deployed the National Guard to protect the ICE facility from protesters, the Portland Design Commission approved Lindquist's plans to develop Centennial Mills into residential housing — despite public outrage over his record.

A leaked video showed City Administrator Raymond Lee telling city employees that Portland was "committed to keeping the facility open."

Five city council members — Mitch Green, Tiffany Koyama Lane, Angelita Morillo, Jamie Dunphy, and Sameer Kanal — put out a statement saying they would not revoke the ICE facility permit.

The city, in other words, is not failing to act. It is choosing to act on behalf of a landlord who profits from human suffering.

The Body in the Rubble

On August 6, K-9 units conducted two searches of the collapsed structure. Both produced positive alerts for human remains. Investigators described the likelihood as "high." The first search on August 3 had come back negative — but the subsequent collapse of debris during the following days may have shifted the material enough for the dogs to detect what the first pass missed.

The building's interior had been a known hazard. Portland Police had responded to the property for squatting concerns before the fire. Residents of the adjacent Abigail condo tower reported seeing teenagers entering and leaving regularly. The structure had holes in the floors, removed stairwells, and no fire suppression system.

Lindquist bought the property for $1.25 million in 2024 from Prosper Portland, the city's economic development agency. As recently as last month, a Vancouver developer said he was seeking to rent a portion of the site for a nightclub but claimed permitting requirements had discouraged him.

A 116-year-old building, bought cheap from the city, left to rot, occupied by squatters, and then it burned. And someone may have died inside it.

Demolition begins on the fire-damaged Centennial Mills warehouse

The Poison

The fire didn't just destroy a building. It poisoned its surroundings.

Debris samples collected after the blaze tested positive for asbestos-containing materials. The Fields Park — the only public green space in the Pearl District — remains closed indefinitely. Northwest Naito Parkway is still blocked. The city has warned residents to remove their shoes before entering their homes, wash their pets' feet, and wash children's hands frequently.

The city's emergency management bureau insists air monitoring shows "a low health risk to the surrounding community." This is the same language the city used during the months of chemical weapon deployments at Lindquist's ICE facility across town.

The demolition — which began August 17 with the controlled removal of the water tower — requires DEQ-licensed asbestos abatement contractors. The north and west walls are now nearly at ground level. The east and south walls still stand two stories high. There is no confirmed date for the park to reopen.

This is the second time in a year that a Lindquist-owned property has introduced toxic substances into Portland's air. The first time, it was chemical weapons deployed against protesters at his ICE facility. This time, it's asbestos from a building he let burn.

The City That Serves Him

Portland Contra Las Deportaciones, the immigrant rights organization leading the campaign to shut down the ICE facility, sees the pattern clearly.

"It's not surprising to me that a man who makes $2.4 million annually off renting out a concentration camp to ICE is also the owner of a derelict building that burnt down and poisoned the neighborhood as a result of his negligence," said Beatriz Ibarra. "The question I have is, when will the city finally step in and put an end to his dangerous investments?"

"Again and again Lindquist is given the green light by the city to make money off Portlanders, but when we ask for the city to hold him accountable, we're told this is impossible," said Blaire Glennon. "The Centennial Mills fire just makes it clearer that this is an emergency."

On August 14, Lindquist appeared in court to challenge the land use violation for his ICE facility. He's appealing to Multnomah County Court, claiming the city is biased against ICE — a claim that would be laughable if it weren't so cynical, given the city's own stated commitment to keeping his facility open.

The fire's cause remains under investigation. The human remains in the rubble remain unidentified. The asbestos remains in the soil. The park remains closed. And the city has issued demolition orders and expressed concern — but has taken no enforcement action against the owner whose negligence created the conditions for all of it.

Twenty-five years ago, Portland bought Centennial Mills to create public waterfront access. It sat vacant while the city floated plans and the Pearl District around it became one of the most expensive neighborhoods on the West Coast. Then the city sold it to a developer who flipped it to a man who makes his money housing immigrants in a concentration camp. The building burned. Someone may have died. The neighborhood got poisoned. And the city that enabled every step of it will tell you they're doing everything they can.

Diane Lewis, who has lived in Portland for 75 years, set up a lawn chair behind the chain-link fence to paint a watercolor of the charred building before it disappeared.

"I love the connection to history," she said. "I think it's really cool looking, including all the graffiti."

Portland knows who Stuart Lindquist is. The question is whether anyone in City Hall will ever act like they care.