L ATIMES.COM MONDAY, APRIL 6, 2020B
November 4, 1944-March 30, 2020HANSEN, Dennis B.
With manyjoyful memories in our
hearts,wecelebratethe life ofDennis
Barton Hansen, who passedaway
peacefullyatage 75 on Monday,March
30thinWhittier,CA.
Dennis wasbornonNovember
4th, 1944 inPreston,Idaho.Inearly
1946 ,his family movedtoSouthern
California wherehegrewupeating
pancakes madebyhis father on
Saturdaymornings,radishesfrom
the family’sgarden, and his mother’s
bread&gravy.During his childhood,
his UncleDeeintroducedhimtothe
Eastern Sierra, sparkingalifelong love
for theOwensValley.Dennisattended
BYU,and then earned his lawdegree
from UCLA.Hewasatrust and estates
attorney,and partner,atOverton,
Lyman&PrinceinLos Angeles for 47
years.
Dennis’loveoftravelbegan with
atwo-year missionarytriptoNew
Zealandinthe mid1960s,and
he inspired the same passion for
adventureinhis family.Togetherthey
shared manymemorable travels across
the globe,but mosttreasuredwere
their annual family camping trips in
theEastern Sierra, andexcursionsto
LasVegas.Peoplewereoften surprised
tolearn ofDennis’loveofLasVegas,
includingcounting down the days until
his daughterswereold enoughtojoin
himatthe black jack table.
Dennis lovedtocook,and showed
his lovefor othersbypreparing
delicious meals.Thankfully he did not
takethe famous Hansen family taco
recipetohis grave,and tacos will be
enjoyedinhis memoryfor generations
to come.Another cherished holiday
traditionwasbaking Libby’spumpkin
pie with his daughters,usingthestand
mixer on thekitchen floor.
As anavidDodgers fan,Dennis held
season tickets for almost as long as
his lawcareer,withDodgerDogs and
peanuts mandatoryateverygame.
Ifabaseball gamewasn’ton, hewas
probablywatchingStarTrek,partofhis
endless loveof sciencefiction.
Dennis will be dearly missed and
rememberedbymanyfamilyand
friends.None moresothanElaine
Hansen, his wife of 34years,daughters
HilaryHansen(Copenhagen,Denmark)
and Haley Hansen (Portland,Oregon),
and theextended Hansen,Ozaroski,
Herald,andPartridge families.
In lieu of flowers,donations can
be made in his memorytoShelter’s
RightHandinWhittier, wherehehad
volunteered asThriftShopTreasurer
since2015.Marcia Burnam 1928-2020, died
April 1st of COVID-19 at her home in
Los Angeles.
An extraordinary woman of
dignity, intelligence, generosity,
kindness and personal courage,
hers was a productive, fruitful life
of helping countless people and
many organizations. She knew how
to run a meeting. Passionate about
justice, interfaith and interracial
understanding, in the 1960s she
headed the Portraits of American
Women panel. Serving as Western
Regional President and then National
Vice-President capped three decades
of dedication to the American Jewish
Committee. She also served on
the national board of overseers of
Hebrew Union College where she
mentored many students at the
School of Jewish Communal Service.
She was a groundbreaking leader in
interreligious affairs, working closely
with the Roman Catholic Archdiocese
of Los Angeles over several decades
and was an outspoken voice
against domestic violence. She was
determined to make a difference. She
was particularly proud of the work of
her son, Dr. Tewodros Gedebou, who
built and heads in her honor a state-
of-the-art reconstructive surgical
hospital, The Marcia Surgical Center, in
Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.
Marcia cherished lifelong
friendships, was profoundly devoted
to her family, and delighted in the
accomplishments of her grandchildren.
She leaves behind her daughter Beth
(Monte Tomerlin), son Bruce, son
Tewodros Gedebou (Yewlsew) and
seven grandchildren: Michael Burnam
Fink (Emily Schach), Dick Fink (Natalie
Karic), Henry, Rose, Alexander and
Edwin Burnam, Lilian Gedebou, her
half-brother Emanuel Joel (Noelle)
and nieces Harriet Hailparn Soares
and Deborah Gunther, all who hold her
memory dear.
Her family is deeply grateful to those
who cared for her in the last years of
her life.BURNAM, Marcia
OBITUARY NOTICESPlace a paid notice latimes.com/placeobituary
Search obituary notice archives: legacy.com/obituaries/latimesHonor a life
To place an obituary ad
please go to
latimes.com/placeobituaryMount Sinai Memorial Parks
Hollywood Hills 800-600-
http://www.mountsinaiparks.orgSELLING, Wilma Barbara
GerberMay 6, 1932 - April 2, 2020SELLING, Wilma B.
Wilma Barbara Gerber Selling, 87,
of Arcadia, CA, died Thursday, April
2nd, peacefully in her home. Wilma
was born on May 6, 1932 to Max and
Sara Gerber of Springfield, MA, where
she was raised with three younger
brothers.
Wilma’s childhood was plagued
with illness. She survived rheumatic
fever as a child and lived with an
often-debilitating digestive disorder,
ulcerative colitis. Despite her physical
ailments, Wilma led a very productive
and full life.
Wilma’s childhood issues led her
to nursing school after high school
while she worked in Boston at Stone
Webster Construction as a clerk. It was
at this time she met and married Bill
Selling of New York, NY. Soon after
they married Bill received a job offer
in California, so they made the trek out
west and settled in Arcadia, CA, where
they raised two daughters, Lori and
Sheri. She also opened her home to
her oldest grandson, Arthur, and raised
him for four years in a time of need.
Wilma was very involved in
service and community. She served
as PTA President, Girl Scout leader,
cheerleading mom and spent many
years volunteering for a local City
of Hope chapter, Partners for Hope,
fundraising thousands of dollars for
cancer research.
When Wilma’s children were old
enough, she returned to the workforce
as a Ward Secretary on the orthopedic
floor at Methodist Hospital in Arcadia
transcribing doctors’ orders until the
computer age began and she decided
to retire.
Wilma loved to laugh! Having grown
up with three younger brothers,
teasing and laughter were a way of
life. She loved to draw and paint and
play “The Impossible Dream” on the
piano. To Wilma, heaven was sitting
on a beach. Laguna Beach was like
a second home and she absolutely
adored Hawaii. In retirement, she and
Bill traveled to Hawaii many times and
spent their 50th wedding anniversary
on Maui with their entire family.
Wilma is survived by daughters, Lori
Miranda and Sheri Selling; grandsons,
Arthur Zamarron and Stephen Maciel;
great-grandchildren, Bailey, Layla and
Ryder, along with many nieces and
nephews.
Services will be held at 11:30am
on Tuesday, April 7th at Mount Sinai
Memorial Parks and Mortuaries, Los
Angeles, CA.
In lieu of flowers, please send
donations to The City of Hope, Duarte,
CA.Mount Sinai Memorial Parks
Hollywood Hills 800-600-
http://www.mountsinaiparks.orgPETERSSEN, Jeffe
February12, 1960-March 30, 2020COLTON MYERS, Julie
Julie Colton Myers,60, of
PacificPalisades,CA, passedaway
unexpectedly Monday,March 30th, in
acar accident.BorninLosAngelesto
NateandAdrienne,Julie graduated
fromBeverly Hills HighSchool in- She thenwentontoreceive
herbachelor’sdegree from UCLA,
whereshecultivatedher passion
for artand creativity.Some of Julie’s
fondest memories include spending
summersatCampHess Kramer,trips
toDisneyland,and enjoying time
with her family.Shewasakind and
nurturing soul,whowasthe ultimate
cheerleader for her family and friends.
Whatmade her happiest in lifewas
doing for others,andcelebrating
in their joy.Julie’scaring spirit lives
on through her loving husband
Wayne,her daughterTarynand her
husband Jacob,her son Brandon, her
brother Larry,her mother and father
Adrienne and Nate,and her dogBella.
Tr ibutedonations can be made in
her honortoher favoriteCampHess
Kramer,atmightycause.com/story/
juliecoltonmyers.
that’s all but impossible for
those whose homes are co-
living spaces.
These apartment com-
plexes range from dorm-like
bunk beds with shared bath-
rooms, kitchens and com-
mon areas to furnished, stu-
dio-style apartments with
individual bathrooms and
large, shared living rooms,
kitchens and amenities.
The idea is to provide
renters with luxuries com-
mon to high-end condos, but
at a more affordable price
and with a built-in social net-
work.
And with rents in hot ur-
ban markets, such as Los
Angeles and San Francisco,
climbing over the last few
years, the popularity of such
co-living, or shared, spaces
has been on the rise.
Dash and other co-living
residents say they’re coping
with the current reality of
sharing a home during a
pandemic by limiting the
number of visitors, cleaning
a lot more and staying out of
shared spaces more than
they otherwise would.
But they’re also thankful
to be riding out the pan-
demic with others. When
Test first came to Los Ange-
les a year and a half ago, she
lived by herself in Hollywood
and quickly felt isolated. She
moved into the Venice
shared-living space as soon
as it opened in October.
“I think about what if this
would have happened while
I was in my own studio alone
in a high-rise,” said Test, a
34-year-old photographer.
“It would be so horrible. I
would be so lonely.”
The social distancing or-
ders have actually enabled
even more connections with
her housemates and others
in her apartment complex.
If it weren’t for the stay-
at-home order, Test said,
she would be spending her
Saturday night dancing with
friends, not watching televi-
sion at home.
She also chafed at not be-
ing able to go to the beach or
go hiking. But Test is thank-
ful to at least be passing the
time posting videos on Tik-
Tok with Viramontez-
Smith, a 28-year-old con-
struction worker from Ohio.
“I feel like we’re actually
roommates now,” she said.
The complex’s 20 bed-
rooms — two of which are
empty — are divided into
four areas, along with com-
mon rooms. So, it took a
pandemic-prompted Zoom
gathering for Test to meet
Stephen Whelan, a 38-year-
old who lives on the opposite
side of the complex.
They met in person on
Saturday while Test was giv-
ing a tour to a Times report-
er and photographer, and
they greeted each other from
a distance.
Whelan was drinking
rosé straight from the bottle
—“It’s quicker than unload-
ing the dishwasher” — and
after chatting about bad re-
ality television, Test invited
him to come over to her side
of the complex later.
Their home is upscale for
a co-living apartment com-
plex. Built by San Francisco
developer Starcity, the com-
plex’s advertised rents start
at $1,900 a month. That’s still
cheaper than the $1,985 me-
dian rental listing for a stu-
dio in the beach community,
according to real estate web-
site Zillow.
Because of this relative
affordability, operators have
long believed that demand
would remain strong during
an economic downturn. But
they didn’t plan for a down-
turn caused by a highly con-
tagious virus that requires
social distancing.
“The irony is, during a re-
cession, PodShare would
have done so well because
we’re a very flexible housing
model,” said Elvina Beck,PodShare’s founder and
CEO. “But when it’s a reces-
sion based on a pandemic,
that’s when it’s like, ‘Oh
crap.’”
At PodShare, which has
locations in downtown,
Westwood, Los Feliz and
other L.A. neighborhoods,
tenants generally sleep in
one big room on wooden
bunk beds. Beck said the
company has been disinfect-
ing surfaces every couple of
hours, distributing lots of
hand sanitizer and making
more with alcohol and aloe
vera. The company also has
set aside private rooms so
anyone exhibiting symp-
toms of COVID-19 can go into
isolation.
There’s also more space
for people to spread out and
socially distance because
business is down by more
than half of what it usually is
at this time of year, Beck
said. Out-of-town travelers,
who make up a number of
her tenants, aren’t coming.
There’s more room at Up
(st)art, too. The company
owns eight co-living spaces
marketed to young artists,
musicians and othershop-
ing to break into the enter-
tainment industry.
Jeremiah Adler, the com-
pany’s co-founder, said his
tenants have been particu-
larly hard hit because so
many have lost their jobs at
bars and restaurants that
have gone to takeout and de-
livery only or have closed
outright. When you couple
those tenants’ financial
problems with some ner-
vousness about staying
healthy in a shared space,
many have moved out.
“If you’re 22 years old and
just lost your job bartending
at Wood & Vine, going back
to your parents’ house in
Michigan right now is pretty
attractive,” he said.
So many Up(st)art ten-
ants have left that he has
been able to keep one of hiscomplexes entirely empty in
case someone needs to be
quarantined.
For those who have re-
mained, Adler has tried to
keep them healthy. Most of
his tenants are in their early
20s, and he and his staff play
the role of parents. They’ve
asked tenants to set alarms
on their phones for every two
hours as a reminder to wash
their hands.
Adler has noticed that
many renters are bonding
over the experience, though.
“Normally people are
busy with their lives and
may be irritated with their
roommates because one of
their bananas went miss-
ing,” he said. “But now, peo-
ple are saying they’re under-
standing the true value of
the community.”
The coronavirus also has
brought people closer to-
gether at the Florence, a sin-
gle-room occupancy hotel in
skid row. Long before co-liv-
ing spaces became trendy
for upwardly mobile young
people flocking to hip en-
claves of Los Angeles, these
modest residential hotels
served as refuges for low-in-
come people.
The Florence has shared
bathrooms, showers and a
community kitchen. Wen-
dell Blassingame, a 69-year-
old who has lived there for 13
years, said residents are
staying away from the lobby
and, when others are in the
hallway, stepping into rooms
to keep a six-foot distance.
One recent morning,
Blassingame was consider-
ing whether to go to the store
to buy bread, but then found
out that two other tenants
needed eggs, bacon and rice.
They decided that just one of
them should venture out.
“I never knew a couple of
my neighbors the way I know
them now,” Blassingame
said. “I’ve gotten a chance to
talk to them in ways I hadn’t
before.”Co-living while also social distancing
[Shared,from B1]
skeleton crew of three. Like
many other restaurants,
he’s trying to survive on
delivery services and ex-
ploring the idea of convert-
ing to a grocery store or food
pantry.
He’s more fortunate than
most — he owns his building
and has a small mortgage
that his bank has extended
for three months. But busi-
ness has fallen off by more
than 90%. On weekdays, he
works the front of the house
himself with a cook in the
back.
He is 66 years old, and he
knows that showing up to
the restaurant places him at
greater risk. He wears
gloves and a face mask, but
it’s scary anyway.
“I can’t stop thinking, did
I touch that light switch?
Did I use that computer,
that doorknob?” Sands
said. “You start driving
yourself crazy. Do they have
COVID on the credit
cards?”
But the restaurant,
Sands said, is his life, the
main reason he gets out of
bed in the mornings. He
never had children of his
own, and he considers the
staff his family. And his
kitchen manager has a
young baby at home and
recently underwent an
expensive operation.
“What keeps me up at
night is, will I make this
guy’s payroll? Will I have to
ask him to accept a pay
cut?” Sands said.
Crisis is like stage light-
ing, throwing the best and
worst parts of humanity
into sharp contrast.
Whether it reveals heroes or
villains is up to us.
Make no mistake — this
fight is not just against a
virus. It’s also a fight for life
—the one we knew, and the
one we don’t know yet, the
one that’s to take shape.
And we all need to join this
fight.
Sometimes you fight by
giving your tenant a break
on rent, because you under-
stand that you cannot pros-
per if they can’t survive.
Sometimes you fight by
changing your whole busi-
ness model to try to keep
your employees. Sometimes
you fight by letting your
employees go home to keep
them safe.
You can fight by giving
money to those who need it,
by staying home, or by
leaving it, if that’s what you
have to do to feed your fam-
ily. You can fight by contact-
ing your elected leaders and
telling them that a $1,
checkand a patchwork ofI’ve never before so ap-
preciated the scent of bak-
ing pan dulce in the morn-
ings, because it means that
the bakery outside is still
open, and that the grocery
store has bread, and that
the bakery’s workers have
work.
I’ve never treasured the
smell of sizzling carne asada
on the street as much as I do
now. I even miss the screech
of the tires on the cars doing
doughnuts at night, fol-
lowed, almost always too
late, by the drone of the
helicopter and the howl of
the sirens.
On my block — and on
every block — life continues
for those who have no choice
but to continue living it.
At the local liquor store,
Rutilio Lopez is ringing up
orders behind a newly in-
stalled pane of bulletproof
glass. He struggles to op-
erate his iPhone through
gloved hands, and above his
face mask, his eyes are red
from exhaustion. He can’t
stop working because he
has to feed his family and
pay rent. So he wears pro-
tective equipment, and
when he gets home, he
removes all his clothes and
disinfects everything before
his wife allows him to go into
the house.
And that’s the least of his
struggles.
“Do you know what I had
to go through to get that
toilet paper?” he said, point-
ing at a shelf of single rolls.
Lopez woke up at 5 a.m. and
made four different trips to
warehouses, accumulating
toilet paper rolls a few at a
time.
At Happy Faces Party
Supply next door, business
has slowed to a halt, said
owner Eric Varela. In one
weekend, it lost its whole
month of party business to
cancellations.
Varela tried selling quar-
antine-related goods such
as bottled water and ramen
for a few days, but eventu-
ally he had to close. He
believes in the wisdom of the
stay-at-home order. Some-
day, he’d like to reopen, but
for now, he just wants to be
safe.
“Now it’s about ‘I help
you, and you help me,’” he
said.
Down the street, the
local taco truck still parks at
the bakery, but orders are
down by more than 70%.
The truck’s customers —
laborers, landscapers and
workers from the bakery —
are losing income and buy-
ing less.
Rockenwagner Bakery, a
bread supplier to many of
the region’s groceries and
restaurants, had to cut staff
hours after losing more than
half of its business overnight
when stay-at-home orders
were issued weeks ago.
In a bid to keep their 300
employees, Patti Rocken-
wagner and her husband,
Hans, decided to turn the
bakery into a grocery and
bread deliverybusiness —
“oven to table,” as Rocken-
wagner has taken to calling
it. They partneredwith a
farm to offer a produce box
and turned their cafe in Mar
Vista into a to-go order
pickup center and market.
A fleet of 40 trucks that once
delivered to restaurants
began delivering products
directly to people’s homes.
“It’s like building the
plane while refueling it and
flying it and sanitizing it at
the same time,” Rocken-
wagner said. “It’s a real test
of an entrepreneur’s met-
tle.”
Many of their employees
had to learn new jobs and
retrain on the fly, such as
David Davila, 32, a supply
chain coordinator who now
spends his shifts doing data
entry.
Davila’s hours have been
cut by about 60%. So he
pored over his bank state-
ments, canceled his Dis-
ney+ subscription, and is
thinking of canceling his
gym membership and Hulu
subscription as well. He’s
also planning to put his
electric guitar up for sale
and cut down on toys and
pizza nights for his son. If
his unemployment check
comes through, he should
be able to keep paying rent
and feeding his family.
“At some point the busi-
ness is going to decide
whether they can stay open.
But right now, I’m OK,”
Davila said.
Davila has worked since
he was 16, born to a family of
immigrants in Downey.
Struggle is all he has known
ever since his first job at
Champs Sports in the mall.
But this is the first time he’s
ever had to apply for unem-
ployment.
“I’ve always had to fight
my whole life, so this is just
another battle,” Davila said.
As long as the bakery
stays open, restaurants
such as Overland Cafecan
buy bread and try to gener-
ate revenue to stay afloat.
Mark Sands started the
restaurant 46 years ago with
his parents. The loss of his
dining room business forced
him to cut his staff of 23 to aporous eviction protections
are not enough, not even
close.
You fight by recognizing
that the life we treasure
cannot exist if our neighbors
lose their jobs; that what
little of the world still func-
tions is held up by those less
fortunate than you.
The world may feel
smaller and quieter, but it is
still right there, on the
block, the one you’re walk-
ing on every day. And that
world needs you.
For now, the bakery
owner is cutting hours so
the bakery employee can
keep his job, feed his son
and pay rent. Which means
the taco truck that depends
on the bakery employees for
lunch service can keep
parking outside, which
means that the family that
owns the truck has a chance
of paying rent.
For now, the banker has
extended the terms of the
restaurant owner’s mort-
gage. Which means that the
restaurant owner can try to
convert the businesses into
a food pantry, delivery busi-
ness or charitable feeding
organization. Which means
thefood suppliers can earn
income and their employees
can keep their jobs.
For now, we are brave,
and kind and absolutely
inspiring. We are keeping
each other afloat with the
sweat and tears of our sacri-
fice. We are powerfully re-
minding each other of the
strength of our connections
and community.
For now, we are fighting.
But for how long?On my block, life goes on. But it’s a fight
ASHOPPER picks produce at Advance Food Market in L.A. Some merchants
are cutting staff hours or pivoting operations on the fly amid the virus lockdown.Brian van der BrugLos Angeles Times[Shyong,from B1]