Los Angeles Times - 06.04.2020

(Joyce) #1

B2 MONDAY, APRIL 6, 2020 LATIMES.COM


For Saturday, April 4, 2020


SuperLotto Plus
Mega number is Bold


5-7-37-39-46—Mega 26
Jackpot:$16 million


Winners per category:
No. of
winners


Amount
of prize(s)
5 + Mega — —
5 2 $12,
4 + Mega 9 $1,
4 210 $
3 + Mega 295 $
3 8,387 $
2 + Mega 4,111 $
1 + Mega 20,483 $
Mega only 31,103 $


Powerball
Powerball number is bold


8-31-39-40-43—Powerball 4
Jackpot:$180 million


California winners per category:
No. of
winners


Amount
of prize(s)
5 + P-ball — —
5 — —
4 + P-ball 1 $$27,
4 27 $
3 + P-ball 75 $
3 2,124 $
2 + P-ball 1,738 $
1 + P-ball 14,116 $
P-ball only 33,222 $
Winning jackpot ticket(s) sold in other
states: None


For Sunday, April 5, 2020


Fantasy Five: 11-19-21-26-


Daily Four: 6-5-1-


Daily Three(midday): 4-4-


Daily Three(evening): 9-5-


Daily Derby:
(8) Gorgeous George
(7) Eureka
(1) Gold Rush
Race time: 1:42.


Results on the internet:
http://www.latimes.com/lottery
General information:
(800) 568-
(Results not available at this number)


Lottery results


BERKELEY — Roughly
150 or so men and women
sleep near Interstate 80
here, sometimes encounter-
ing head-to-toe staph infec-
tions or families of rats living
inside their mattresses.
When that happens, they
know whom to call.
Andrea Henson’s phone
has been ringing for weeks,
ever since this bustling uni-
versity town in effect shut
down this month to halt the
spread of the coronavirus.
With local governments slow
to house the homeless, activ-
ists such as Henson have
stepped into the breach,
providing food and other
supplies to people sleeping
on the street.
“This is the first time I’ve
heard people say, ‘Andrea,
we’re hungry,’ ” said Hen-
son, who said that in socially
conscious Berkeley, donated
food is normally never in
short supply.
California had an esti-
mated 108,000 people living
outdoors before the virus
struck. Over the last several
weeks, many of the homeless
services that once existed
have disappeared.
Because of social dis-
tancing requirements, busi-
nesses no longer drop off
leftovers from conference
luncheons, and even food
banks have closed.
Compounding their
problems, people living in
tents can no longer charge
their cellphones at Star-
bucks or take a shower at the
YMCA. State and local offi-
cials announced plans early
in the pandemic to move
thousands of homeless Cali-
fornians into hotel rooms
and emergency trailers. But
on the ground, realizing that
goal has proved difficult.
Two weeks after Gov. Gavin
Newsom directed residents
to shelter in place, thou-
sands are still sleeping on
the streets.
And so it is being left to
individuals such as Henson
—whom one advocate calls
the “Mother Goose” of
Berkeley’s westside home-
less settlements — to help
keep people alive. She’s not
surprised the system is fail-
ing the homeless again.
“I told people from the
beginning that we’re going
to act like no help is coming,”
Henson said. “It’s the Wild,
Wild West.”
In the meantime, she and
about 20 other volunteers
have formed an emergency
network of workers from six
nonprofits that have shut
down. These include the
Berkeley Free Clinic and
needle exchange and legal
advice groups.
On Wednesday evenings,
the members of the Berkeley
Outreach Coalition update
one another and share infor-
mation via Zoom. Together


since early March, they’ve
crowdsourced tens of thou-
sands of dollars to buy sup-
plies such as masks and
gloves and print copies of an
informational flier on
COVID-19 written by a UC
Berkeley public health stu-
dent.
The equipment manager
at the Berkeley Free Clinic
even designed a hand-wash-
ing station made from pipes
and 5-gallon plastic buckets
that’s operated by foot and
requires no running water.

“When I tell people what
we’re doing, they want to
help,” Henson said.
Last week, a stranger
handed her $20 while she
was in line waiting to pay for
$900 worth of groceries to
feed the camps.
In order to limit the risk
of spreading the virus, Hen-
son is the only member of the
coalition who goes into the
camps and interacts directly
with residents, nearly all of
whom she knows by name.
She says she tries to observe

hygiene and social distanc-
ing rules as much as pos-
sible. On a recent afternoon,
she unloaded grocery bags
from the white Ford Focus
she calls the Justicemobile.
Wearing latex gloves and
an N95 surgical mask held in
place by a tie-dyed bala-
clava, she lugged two bags of
food packed with items like
premixed peanut butter and
jelly and pop-off cans of Van
Camp’s pork and beans
across Shellmound Street to
a grassy freeway exit medi-

an, where several people live
amid clumps of California
poppies and Trader Joe’s
shopping carts.
Some wouldn’t eat with-
out those groceries, said 44-
year-old Brandon “Grimm”
Mercer, who is missing most
of his top teeth. “It’s like a
ghost town out here,” he
said, explaining that the
empty streets, more than
the coronavirus, have made
people afraid to step outside
of their tents for fear of har-
assment by the authorities.
People living on the
streets often suffer from
underlying health condi-
tions and weakened
immune systems. Unless the
state spends millions to
move them indoors, 40% of
homeless people could be in-
fected by the novel co-
ronavirus, according to a re-
cent study published by the
National Alliance to End
Homelessness.
Last year, members of an
outreach team run by the
volunteer-operated Berke-
ley Free Clinic became so
alarmed by the maladies
they were seeing among the
growing homeless popula-
tion in Berkeley and Oak-
land that they decided to
switch their focus from HIV/
AIDS testing to providing
basic care.
Fritz Bixler, an outreach
coordinator who served on
the clinic’s Street Medicine
Team,has seen trench foot,
gout and broken bones in

people who’d been hit by
cars and gone untreated.
“People are getting dis-
eases that belong in medi-
eval times,” she said.
“Homeless people in Berke-
ley have been struggling to
survive a public health crisis
that took hold long before
COVID-19.”
Since the outbreak,
Bixler and her team can no
longer treat patients, but
they’re supplying homeless
people with things like socks
and hand sanitizer. They are
also negotiating with a Bay
Area junior college that has
proposed sending nursing
students to treat homeless
people who show symptoms
and are more likely to be left
behind as hospitals become
inundated.
In mid-March, Berkeley
Mayor Jesse Arreguín’s of-
fice said it had set up at least
20 hand-washing stations
around town, but activists
said few of them were placed
strategically near encamp-
ments and those that are
there aren’t being regularly
cleaned and refilled with
soap and paper towels.
“It’s really hard to stay
clean when you’re living in a
tent in the mud,” Henson
said.
Henson, 49, has worked
in information technology
and as a beekeeper. She hap-
pened into activism a year or
so ago when she saw a police
officer arresting a homeless
man on the street and
rushed to his defense. A law
school graduate, she began
working with the East Bay
Community Law Center and
leading protests against
sweeps of encampments.
Those stopped in West
Berkeley after a series of ne-
gotiations with officials.
Henson’s organization,
Where Do We Go Berkeley?,
has since garnered dona-
tions ranging from cash for
tents and portable toilets to
tickets to the symphony.
“Even when she’s not
here, she is fighting for us,”
said Lea Borowitz, 32, who is
better known as Lil’ Bit.
Borowitz lives in a tent
beneath the University Ave-
nue exit with her 2-month-
old puppy, Grrr, and her
boyfriend, Josh LaForge, 30.
Before the pandemic,
LaForge said, he sometimes
made $200 to $300 a week
taking bottles and cans to a
recycling center. “Now that’s
gone,” he said.
Borowitz, who frequently
falls ill, is more worried
about the virus. “If one per-
son gets sick out here, every-
body gets sick,” she said.

Scheier is a special
correspondent.

‘Mother Goose’ not one to duck challenge


As virus rages, Berkeley activist provides food and medical supplies to at-risk homeless people


By Rachel Scheier


ACTIVISTAndrea Henson, right, known as the “Mother Goose” of Berkeley’s westside homeless settlements,
walks with a homeless man as they deliver supplies to an encampment along a freeway in Emeryville, Calif.

Photographs by Josh EdelsonFor The Times

HENSON,49, has worked in IT and as a beekeeper. She happened into activism a
year or so ago when she saw an officer arresting a homeless man on the street.

payment plan — among
them that she turn over any
money from a federal stimu-
lus check or from a charity
within five days.
“I can’t believe that they
would legally be able to do
that,” said Boneva, 27, who
rents a two-bedroom apart-
ment in East Hollywood
with a roommate. “They’re
not entitled to the money for
your rent above all else.”
Boneva didn’t sign the
agreement. The landlord,
Rom Residential, says the
letter was a draft that never
should have been sent to
tenants suddenly struggling
to pay rent. But the letter is
just one example of how
many landlords in Los Ange-
les have been pushing their
tenants to agree to repay-
ment plans that are far more
onerous than what’s re-
quired under state and city
laws passed to prevent evic-
tions during the pandemic.
Some have informed ten-
ants that they must produce
pay stubs and bank state-
ments, showing how the co-
ronavirus has hurt their in-
comes. Still others have told
tenants that all back rent is
due when the government-
declared states of emer-
gency end.
Neither is true.
Under the city’s anti-evic-
tion rules, Angelenos simply
have to notify their landlord
within seven days that
they’re unable to pay be-
cause of economic or health
circumstances caused by
the virus, and they have up
to a year after the emergency
declaration expires to pay
past-due rent.
Pressure from landlords
to sign repayment plans be-
fore the full effects of the co-
ronavirus are known may

lead renters already unset-
tled by job losses and gov-
ernment stay-at-home or-
ders to sign away their rights
and ultimately facilitate
their own evictions, tenant
advocates say.
“It may lock them into an
agreement they may not be
able to fulfill, and then they
might end up getting evicted
anyway,” said Larry Gross,
executive director of the Co-
alition for Economic Sur-
vival, which advocates for
tenants.
“It puts them in a hor-
rible situation, and they
don’t know otherwise.”
Elena Popp,an attorney
and director of the Eviction
Defense Network, said that
since April 1, nearly two doz-
en tenants in L.A. have sent
her letters from their land-
lords, asking for financial
statements or repayment
obligations that go beyond
what the city says is re-
quired.
Confusion over the anti-
eviction rules stems in part
from the haphazard patch-
work of federal, state and lo-
cal tenant protectionsthat
has emerged in the last few
weeks.
As part of the federal
stimulus package approved
last month, there is a nation-
wide eviction moratorium
for nonpayment of rent, but
only for renters whose land-
lords have mortgages
backed by the federal gov-
ernment — something most
tenants don’t know and
would have a difficult time
figuring out.
Gov. Gavin Newsom has
agreed to delay eviction pro-
ceedings for renters affected
by the virus, but only
through May. And dozens of
mayors and city councils
across the state have come

up with their own rules like
the ones enacted in L.A.
Landlords are struggling
to understand which rules
they have to follow, said
Daniel Yukelson, executive
director of the Apartment
Assn. of Greater Los Ange-
les. At the same time, many
are also navigating a simi-
larly haphazard patchwork
of government protections
for late mortgage payments.
“It’s really unfair what’s
being done,” Yukelson said.
“We did not go in the busi-
ness to be lenders to tenants.
And that’s what we’re being
asked to do.”
Leeor Maciborski, a part-
ner at Rom Residential, said
he was sorry the company
had asked tenants to turn
over their stimulus checks.
The company, he said, was
trying to figure out what it
was allowed to require and
sent the letters prematurely.
Staffers at Rom Residen-
tial, which manages about
1,500 apartments, have been
speaking with tenants indi-
vidually to try to understand
their circumstances and de-
velop alternatives, such as
providing a discount if
they’re able to pay on time,
Maciborski said.
“We’re working really
hard to get everyone what
they need,” he said. “It’s been
a flood.”
Rom Residential is send-
ing out a new letter that
eliminates some requests
but still tells tenants to turn
over documents proving
they’ve been affected by the
coronavirus.
The city of L.A.’s eviction
protections don’t require
tenants to do this; instead,
they ask tenants to keep
such records as a defense
against a potential eviction
in court.

“Everything is so uncer-
tain,” said Margaret Lebron,
a tenant at a Rom Residen-
tial building in Los Feliz. “I
don’t know if I’m going to
lose my job. My boyfriend
doesn’t know when he’s go-
ing to get back to work. He
doesn’t know when he’s go-
ing to get his unemploy-
ment. We don’t know if we’re
going to get sick. It just
seems reckless to plunder
our savings to pay some-
thing that we’re not legally
obligated to pay right now.”
Lebron said she and her
boyfriend debated whether
to pay their April rent, even
though they were aware of
the eviction protections, be-
cause they feared their land-
lord might retaliate against
them by withholding their
security deposit or being
slow to make repairs.
Ultimately, they decided
to pay half.
Simone Pascal, a 72-year-
old actress and artist who
lives in East Hollywood,
made a different decision.
She decided to pay her full
rent for April.
Also forced out of work by
the pandemic, Pascal said
she received a letter from her
property management com-
pany, Crescent Canyon
Management, saying ten-
ants who couldn’t pay their
rent needed to submit a
bank statement and pay
stub within a week. The com-
pany also insisted that all
back rent would be due once
the city’s emergency decla-
ration has ended.
“Most of my money is go-
ing toward the rent,” Pascal
said of her new financial vul-
nerability. “I’m getting
[services from] Meals on
Wheels, and that’s helping.”
Crescent Canyon has
since revised what it is

telling tenants.
“Any confusion related to
prior notices was uninten-
tional, and we are working to
correct it as quickly as pos-
sible,” the company said in a
statement.
Both Rom Residential
and Crescent Canyon re-
ceived letters from L.A. City
Councilman David Ryu after
he became aware of what
they were telling their ten-
ants.
Ryu, whose district
stretches from the Miracle
Mile through the Hollywood
Hills to Sherman Oaks, said
he planned to continue
sending letters to landlords
that violate the city’s anti-
eviction rules.
But he said the entire sit-
uation shows that the City
Council should have enacted
a blanket moratorium on
evictions across L.A., rather
than the more limited ver-
sion that’s in place now and
may require tenants to go to
court to prove that the virus
affected them.
A Ryu-supported motion
that would have imple-
mented a blanket ban failed
by one vote at last week’s
council meeting.
Meanwhile, the city’s
Housing and Community
Investment Department is
developing a template for
landlords and tenants to use
when they work out a plan
for paying back rent, said
Rushmore Cervantes, the
department’s general man-
ager. The city is encouraging
both landlords and renters
to call the housing depart-
ment for help.
“I really think April 1 is a
precursor,” Ryu said. “If we
can’t figure this out for April
1, on May 1 we’re going to be
in even more of a world of
hurt.”

Renters face demands despite protections


[Landlords,from B1]
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