‘Old Lives Matter,’ say seniors fighting eviction
It’s not as if Emiel Meisel, 92, didn’t already have ample material for his blog about geriatric living in Los Angeles.
But an eviction notice last fall, for him and about a hundred other seniors living in the Vintage Westwood Horizons retirement home, upped his game. In his latest blog post, he described the high drama at a meeting last week in which management reiterated to stressed-out tenants that they’ll have to move out during building renovations that could take more than a year.
“We, the assembled mass, literally and figuratively, DO NOT GIVE A RAT’S ASS about construction issues!!” Meisel wrote, hammering the outrage with his signature double exclamation points.
Tenants argue that if building upgrades are really necessary for safety reasons, and not merely a ruse to raise the rent, the job should be done in phases, with them shuffling to different parts of the building rather than getting pushed out the door. In his blog post, Meisel mentioned his Navy service and referred to fellow octogenarian and nonagenarian troopers as “The Fightin’ 947th,” for the street address of what he calls their current and “final nestin’ place.”
“We are gonna fight — in the only way we know how!! We’ll ask our lawyers ... to help us and find a way so that we will not have to leave this place.”
Many of the tenants are far from destitute, or they wouldn’t be living in a Westwood high-rise, but this fight is partly about principle. Others insist they can’t afford the higher prices at other retirement homes, some of which have big entrance fees and aren’t rent-controlled, like their beloved building in Westwood, with its cruise ship mural in the dining room. They fear burning through nest eggs and dread
asking family members for financial help.
For many, their downthe-hall neighbors are like family, and they can’t bear to part ways with their buddies.
I saw a lot of spirit and spunk during my visit with the 947th last week in Westwood. Roseblanche Schwartz, 92, wore a shirt that said, “I make old age look good.”
Flossy Liebman, 95; Ruth Frank, 95; Holocaust survivor Joe Goldfarb, 98; Ruth Stamler, 87; Vita Adams, 88; Lillian Koslow, 98; Bernice Weston, 84; and Jane Mombach, 90, all told me they’re not going anywhere.
Tenants have found an ally in Los Angeles City Councilman Paul Koretz, who called the planned displacement “outrageous” and said it might be “the largest senior citizen mass eviction in the country.” His office started a Facebook page, No To Watermark, encouraging supporters to “pressure these faceless, heartless wheeler dealers ... and demand they STOP the evictions.”
The saga began last fall, when the high-rise building was sold to a partnership fronted by Watermark Retirement Communities, which wants to convert the site from a residential facility to a licensed operation with more assisted living.
Two Watermark executives, David Freshwater and David Barnes, told me they had intended to avoid displacing residents, many of whom are in their 90s, with a few in triple digits. But they concluded the work would be too extensive to allow for seniors to live there safely without major disruptions. Plumbing and electrical systems need to be replaced, elevators updated and a power transformer upgraded. They also decided to do extensive seismic safety engineering.
Their motive is not profit, they said, but a better facility for people who deserve nothing less. But Freshwater and Barnes admit communications with residents were somewhat botched.
Late last year, after residents got the bad news, they were under the impression they’d have a year to relocate. But they got conflicting information. In December, many panicked when blunt warnings filled with bloodless legal jargon were posted to their doors, ordering them out by March 28.
“NOTICE OF TERMINATION OF TENANCY,” said the memo, which cited government code and threatened “legal proceedings” against those who failed to comply.
“We did not manage it well, and we apologized profusely,” said Freshwater, who clarified that tenants can stay through November and are being referred to put in touch with other senior living providers.
Under state law, residents must be offered roughly $19,000 in relocation costs. Watermark says those who return after the rehab can do so at their current monthly rates, which range from $4,000 to $7,000 for room, meals and activities. And food service and activities will be free to current tenants who relocate but wish to drop by during the rehab.
More than 30 tenants have decided to clear out. But others are ready to barricade their doors.
Watermark, of course, is a business that’s out to provide a service and make money doing it. A Horizons tenant whispered in my ear that I should follow the money and find out who really owns Vintage Westwood Horizons. But when I asked Freshwater and Barnes that question, they hesitated.
“Actually, I don’t have the answer to that,” said Freshwater, explaining it was a joint venture, but he couldn’t recall the specific LLC.
I asked if Kayne Anderson, a Florida-based investment firm, put up the money and Watermark manages the property. Freshwater said that’s it, essentially.
The Kayne website says it has invested in 34 senior facilities “representing more than $1.2 billion in transaction value.”
The Watermark “business model is to shut down old senior buildings and reopen them as luxury board-and-care assisted living for which they charge a lo t more money,” said Jim Bickhart, Koretz’s point person on Horizons.
Koretz, he said, is determined to find a way to allow residents to stay in their building during renovations, as residents of other buildings have been able to do during major rehabs. The Thomas Safran and Associates development company is completing a $37-million, 18-month renovation of a 283-unit Koreatown building for low-income seniors. Jordan Pynes, president of Safran, told me no resident was displaced for more than two or three weeks.
Meanwhile, attorney Jessie Kornberg of Bet Tzedek is looking into whether Watermark can legally evict tenants, and she argues that the company has created a “false urgency” to rush residents out.
“That kind of stress is potentially really detrimental to the frail and aging person who depends on community and familiarity of surroundings,” she said.
But maybe the resistance movement is beginning to pay off. Not long after Watermark executives explained to me why tenants have to leave, their attorney — former City Atty. Rocky Delgadillo — told me some might be allowed to stay.
Meisel, the blogger, opined that if they move, and the renovation isn’t done for a couple of years, “We’ll be dead by then.”
Holocaust survivor Martha Kiss, who gave me her age as “above 90,” handed me the sign she tapes to her walker: “I’m Not Leaving.” But my favorite sign was this one: “Old Lives Matter! We want to live here Not leave here!”