More than six weeks after President Donald Trump fired her as Homeland Security Secretary, Kristi Noem is still living in a military waterfront home in Washington, D.C., that is normally reserved for Coast Guard officials, and the Coast Guard's top officer reportedly wants it back.
The Wall Street Journal first reported that Noem continued using the accommodation well past her ouster, citing people familiar with the matter. The Independent reported that Noem has been spotted coming and going from the home in recent days, raising questions about who authorized a former cabinet member to remain on a military base after losing the job that put her there.
The arrangement matters because the home sits next door to the residence of Coast Guard Commandant Admiral Kevin Lunday, who reportedly told associates he plans to move into the house Noem is occupying "imminently." That a fired political appointee is still blocking a four-star admiral from his own quarters tells you something about how Washington works, or doesn't.
Noem moved onto the military base after protesters and paparazzi discovered the address of her private residences while she oversaw the Trump administration's aggressive immigration enforcement campaign. The security rationale was straightforward at the time: a cabinet secretary drawing intense public anger needed a safer place to live.
The Washington Examiner reported that the residence is known as Quarters 1 at Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling. DHS said Noem relocated temporarily after media reports identified her apartment location, which allegedly led to doxing and death threats. The department noted she was still paying rent on her regular apartment.
But "temporary" has stretched well beyond her tenure. Trump fired Noem last month. She no longer runs DHS. She no longer has a cabinet-level security profile justifying a military residence. Yet there she remains.
Rep. Bennie Thompson and Rep. LaMonica McIver publicly criticized Noem for staying in the Quarters 1 residence, framing it as a misuse of government resources. Their joint statement was blunt:
"If Secretary Noem is living rent-free in military housing, she should be ashamed. Federal government coffers are not Noem's personal piggy bank, and Coast Guard service members are not her servants. Noem must pay her part."
Democrats also accused Noem of using Coast Guard executive jets for personal travel, a separate allegation that has dogged her for months. The pattern of complaints centers on a single theme: that Noem treated government resources as personal amenities.
It is worth noting that Noem's inner circle has drawn Coast Guard scrutiny before, in episodes that suggest a casual attitude toward military personnel and their chain of command.
Corey Lewandowski, Noem's top aide, has been seen at the home over the past year and as recently as this month. Lewandowski and Noem have been accused of carrying on an extramarital affair, a charge Noem has dismissed as "tabloid garbage" and Lewandowski has also rejected.
Lewandowski told The Wall Street Journal that "scores of people have visited Ms. Noem at the house in a business capacity." That framing raises its own question: what business is a fired cabinet secretary conducting at a military residence she no longer has any official reason to occupy?
The mid-flight cockpit incident involving Lewandowski already raised serious concerns about how Noem's operation treated military assets and personnel. His continued presence at the Coast Guard residence only deepens those questions.
Noem's firing capped a turbulent run at the Department of Homeland Security. During congressional hearings in March, she was pressed about a $220 million TV ad campaign about deportations, one that featured Noem herself on horseback before Mount Rushmore. She claimed Trump had signed off on the campaign. Trump swiftly denied it.
That contradiction helped seal her fate. Democrats referred Noem to the DOJ for alleged perjury over her congressional testimony about the ad campaign, a referral that, whatever its legal merit, underscored how badly she had damaged her own credibility.
Earlier, in January, Noem and other Trump administration officials described Alex Pretti and Renee Good, U.S. citizens killed by federal agents during an immigration surge in Minnesota, as "domestic terrorists." That characterization drew fierce criticism. Noem refused to retract the label, even as the facts of the incident remained contested.
Separately, Newsmax reported on internal tensions between Noem and senior Coast Guard leaders over her use of Coast Guard aircraft for deportation flights. One dispute centered on a February 2025 search-and-rescue mission, with allegations that Noem instructed leaders to keep a C-130 available for deportation operations during the search. DHS denied the aircraft was diverted, saying the C-130 supported the search from February 4, 8 and returned to San Diego only after the search was suspended.
A DHS spokesperson called the allegations "nothing more than a politicized deep state effort to undermine President Trump's immigration enforcement agenda." Whether that defense holds up, the friction between Noem's office and the Coast Guard was real and public well before her firing.
The housing situation comes amid a wave of personal disclosures that have embarrassed the Noem family. Last week, a report alleged the couple racked up millions of dollars in debt before their rise to national prominence. Financial disclosures have painted a picture of significant liabilities that sit awkwardly alongside a lifestyle that includes occupying government-provided waterfront property rent-free.
Another report alleged that Noem's husband, Bryon Noem, sent compromising photos to female models online. Kristi Noem released a statement expressing shock. The couple has been married almost 34 years and has three adult children and several grandchildren.
None of these personal matters would normally warrant public attention. But when a public official is still drawing on government resources after being removed from office, the personal and the political collide. Taxpayers have a right to ask why a fired secretary is living on a military base while an admiral waits to move in next door.
The Independent contacted both the State Department, where Noem was appointed to a little-known initiative as special envoy for the Shield of the Americas-Western Hemisphere after her ouster, and the Department of Homeland Security for comment. Neither response was reported in the coverage.
Key questions remain open. Who authorized Noem to stay in the residence after her firing? Does her new State Department title carry any housing entitlement? And why hasn't the Coast Guard simply reclaimed the property for Admiral Lunday, who by all accounts is ready to occupy it?
Conservatives rightly demand accountability when government officials treat public resources as personal entitlements. That standard doesn't bend based on party affiliation. If Noem has a legitimate reason to remain in military housing, she should say so plainly. If she doesn't, she should have been out the door the day after her last one at DHS.
Government housing is for government servants, not former ones who haven't gotten around to leaving.
