After living at 87 Oxford St in Kensington Market for 10 years, I was given an N12 form. There were three of us living in the upstairs unit at the time. It's a victorian-style brick house, painted bright red with a big pine tree out front (it is directly across from 'Cam Russell Way', a little alley that leads north to College St).
Our neighbour, Marty Murphy, bought our half of the house (semi-detached) just over a year before. He had moved into the other half of the house a few years earlier. When he became our landlord he said that we were such good neighbours and tenants that he wanted to keep us and make us happy. The downstairs unit was already an Air bnb unit.
That tune changed when Marty told us we had to move out by the end of May 2019. He gave us the minimum 2 months notice - we tried to negotiate to stay until end of September at least, which would have been manageable for all of our life plans, but he said it was imperative that he, his wife, and their daughter move in ASAP for financial reasons. He said he needed to rent out his unit in his half of the house to make more money, and move into our unit in the meantime. He did give us one extra month to move out.
We talked to him about how devastating it was for us (I was actually between jobs at the time). He said he was truly sorry, but there was no other option for him and his family - he was in so much financial trouble that he didn't know what to do and his only option was to move in. He pleaded with us to understand.
It was incredibly stressful for all of us to figure out what to do on such short notice. And, it was very stressful for me to tear apart my home of 10 years, and then be thrust into a very much more expensive rental market.
Unfortunately I ended up needing to take a summer contract in another city, so couldn't stay to fight the case at the landlord tenant board (my name was the only one on the lease). My plan had been to return to return to my apartment this fall, but that was not possible.
When I came by the house in September to pick up my bike, as planned with Marty, the scene was a surprise: A big cargo truck full of debris, cupboards and scraps from our unit in a pile on the lawn, and renovation team in full work mode - obviously tearing the place apart and upgrading it, likely for new tenants.
In retrospect, I wish I'd tried harder to make the effort to go to the landlord tenant board. I also wish my housemate had signed the lease as well so that he could have stayed on my behalf. It seems foolish now that I empathized with Marty, who owns two houses over $1M each in Kensington Market.