1905

Pico Blvd.
Santa
Monica,90405
(424)
413-3857

To Whom It May Concern,

I am seeking your firm for representation regarding a personal injury case of

a different kind than you may be used to prosecuting. The life-altering,
preventable, prejudicial and negligent events which shape this chapter in my
life were devised by those i trusted with my safety, well-being and shelter.

Ms. Boyd, the presumed owner of the building in which i lived, her
employees, the property managers, the city of los angeles, los angeles county
and the [housing commission] orchestrated what seemed to be a “game,”
resulting in my perennial struggle with critical disabilities. I bore witness to
their trickery turned to (perhaps) their laughter into an inevitable not-so-
funny battle for survival. Their pre-meditated and seemingly rehearsed
actions were for me and me alone, and their symptoms were all shadowed by
my pain.

In the vulnerable time of covid (mid-2020) their actions personified the

greed in which evil will grow. The disregard of the renters moratorium for
the city of Los Angeles; the dismissal of corona-virus rules suggested (or
not) by government agencies; the lack of acknoledging the closure of the
eviction courts in Los Angeles; the embracing of ‘homemade’ evictions and
the validation of their ‘homemade’ legality; the execution of a ‘lease’ about
which I was told not to speak about to anyone; fraud; the egregious theft of
valuable personal property; the dethroning of seemingly-not-so-valuable
possessions from irreplaceable family treasures to junk; and their absolute
disregard for the sanctity of my life, qualified their successful plight of
seizing my joy, squashing my gratitude, and obliterating my pursuit of
happiness. Their calluous actions irrevevicoly changed the quality and the
direction of my life.

the start of the unravel:

I was asleep in the early morning, when there was a knock at my door. I
resurrected from the night…
“Hello?”
“Get up now! Get ready! Time to go…” Phew! Just the property managers,
Michelle and her lackey Porsha. Thank you G.. After all, we are in the thick
of South LA. I stick out a little bit— I would like to say it’s because of my
sunny disposition ; however, it’s probably because I cannot tolerate the sun
due to burning.
“Wait. Go where?”
“We’re exterminating the house and you gotta git. We got you a hotel room
for two nights cause you can’t be breathin’ in those fumes. Good God,” as
she looked around the master bedroom. It was wasn’t displaying army-neat,
but it did exhibit Christina-neat, which is not so bad if I do say so myself!
“A hotel?!?” Which sounded like a nice change of scenery, as I had hardly
left the Hood when the covid started to run rampant and everything in eye-
sight closed.
“We got you a driver. He’ll be here soon. So git!”
“A driver? How fancy…”
“Don’t get your hopes up and come on. Get movin’”
“Yes, Mamam.”
And I scurry quickly grabbing a few things. Two days, don’t need much…I
continued with excitement; however, unbeknownst to me, is what laid ahead.
i was jumping with a decidedly false excitement whereas i should have been
assessing my survival…

the egregious intentional affliction of emotional distress is utterly

unfathomable as it unfolds before me. i was an unwilling participant without
any power or clue that i was leaving my place under my landlords et al.’s
fraudulent pretences… no longer did i have my shelter, my house, my home.
i was now the poster child of disparity in south la as i became the victim of
made-up rules, in a made-up land, swimming in their made-up the greater
good. whiile i was drowning. homeless. propertyless. dignity-poor. and i
didn’t even know it. yet

tending the yarn prior to the weave:

in april, 2019, i had contacted cynthia chagolla of bet tzedek law firm
regarding guidance for a potential problem from verté & co. llc from whom i
was renting a studio at 204 so. reeves drive, beverly hills, ca, 90212; they
had been raising the rent emphatically for months. she was kind enough to
halt any anticipated situations, and make the situation go away. she is always
in my prayers! yet her kindness did not end there; she knew of a place in
south la that had free rent for six months! i jumped at the opportunity and
hustled down to 344 east 118th st, la, ca, 90061. i moved in on may 1, 2019
to room #5, which is the master bedroom of a house which facilitates five
women (including myself) in a ‘home’ like setting (kitchen, living room,
etc.) i was able to bring with me all of my furniture, possessions, clothing,
etc. as the master bedroom was able to house everything i owned, much like
the studio.
i was very much at peace in my new habitat and forever grateful to cynthia
for giving me a place to live, as i was unemployed at the time, living hand-
to-mouth. i got along with my housemates and had a good rapport with the
two of the landlords, porsha and michelle, who worked under the owner of
the company positive journey housing, ms. boyd. or so i thought we all got
along…

CoVid arrived, the pandemic was palatable, and being a Restaurant

Manager, I was out-of sorts as I had been in the final stages of many
interviews for two great restaurants for the position of Assistant General
Manger… Obviously, the jobs did not pan out due to shut-downs, etc.;
however, I was very pleased when our Mayor introduced the Renters
Moratorium, and I graciously participated. It was such a blessing for me and
my colleagues in such a precarious time in the our industry. I did explained
to my landlords that when CoVid is gone, I was employed again, we would
figure out a payment plan for my back rent. I guess that was not enough…

On August 8 2020, while still in residence at 344 E. 118th St., Positive

Journey Housing ‘tricked’ me to leaving the house when they told me that
they were going to exterminate the property. They were nice enough to
purchase a hotel room at the Best Inn Hotel on 4701 W. Adams Blvd for 2
days, because they said that the fumes would be too dangerous to sleep in.
That I would be much safer at the hotel. I thanked them very much. They
even paid for the cab to take me to the hotel…

Later at the No-Tell:

Two days later, I called Michelle to make sure the house was aerated and
that it was safe to come back. She said do not come back, as I was no
longer welcomed. I TRULY DID NOT UNDERSTAND I was shocked, not
even comprehending what she had said. I asked for a reason, and did not
received any respectable reply or answer for this sudden and cruel
undertaking. I asked if I may please gather my possessions, portfolios,
furniture, electrons, flatscreen TV, computer equipment, work closes,
expense apparel, irreplaceable family heirlooms, jewelry, etc.… Michelle
said it was all gone and that I couldn’t go back there. Impossible that all of
my possessions vanished into thin air! And remember, I had only packed for
two days… It felt like I had just been slammed into a brick wall. I called
them with no avail (getting only voicemail), leaving messages, texting them
— essentially begging them to give me my things back. They did not
respond, except once when Porsha answered the phone, "Leave me alone.” I
really thought they liked me.
This incident left me homeless (for the first time in my life), with no
processions at all… feeling so alone and wronged. Evictions are illegal for
the city of Los Angeles during Covid, and that part of the court house is still
closed. The fear that took over me, realizing that I did not have a roof over
my head, knowing that now I have nothing, sent me into a tailspin. The
emotional distress from Positive Journey’s actions, was unsurmountable. I
had a nervous breakdown; I was institutional twice at two different hospitals
in August and September. I will give you the details which supports this
claim when/if we speak on the phone. I hold Positive Journey responsible
for this too.

The culpable are my Landlords; the Property Managers; the Property

Owners; ‘Those’ associated with this cast of characters; the Property
Owners’ compan(ies); their subsequent DBA(s); and the government
agencies in the City of Los Angeles, as well in the state and federal levels
whose willingly enabled these ‘landlords’ to act as they did without any
checks and balances and without any regard for the welfare and safety of
their tenants. They all play a part. The willingness to claim culpability and/or
assume accountability fall upon deaf ears. My dark circumstances escalated
with the progressively waning heartbeat of the laws which were meant to
protect inhabitants of rental properties and the safety of those within.

Their cruel joke-like theater accessorized by their authoritative positions, the

disregard of consequences, their unapologetic greed, and if I dare say, their
prejudice for the color of my skin collectively caused my lengthy downfall
from a perch with which I was satisfied. Subsequently there were many
hospitalizations. ensued in the midst of corona, I lost family and friends due
to the lack of education pertaining to my newly developed disorder, the
inability to work as I did before and the challenging burden of maintaining
health in a state of severe trauma. Then I felt the stigma for which I did not
fully understand myself. It circles around my mental health or lack-thereof
which only exasperated hopelessness and disgrace.

Their actions— or lack-there-of— exterminated what was a potentially

successful future; their narassism stole my faith in humanity and sealed
away my identity (literally) as my drivers license, passport, social security
card, birth certificate, bank and other important documents, were in my
room and subsequently seized by the building’s proveyors’ greed and
theivery. Perhaps only war trophies to them, but the family pictures of those
who have passed on are irreplaceable. The artwork made by my children can
never be remade. My work clothes, computers, my digital artwork, my
photography, money I had been saving for a car, jewelry, cell phones …
gone. In lieu of a safety I should feel at my place of residence was replaced
by a Successfully slathered shroud decorated with a destructive PTS
Disorder, a Panic Disorder, ongoing extreme Anxiety Disorder and the
Critical Depression which continues to cloak me now and probably for the
rest of my life. Perhaps these afflictions are simply a cold souvenir of the
day I lost everything. The ‘everythings’ that used to keep me grounded and a
smile on my face.

Maybe it was because just a different kind of girl moving to a different part
of a big city, trying to stride the thrill of a gift of free rent. this is how i came
to live on 118th and avalon in south la. my excitement of an impending fresh
start tickled me. until it didn’t as unbeknownst to me, my unadulterated joy
would soon dissolve into shear terror, shame and degradation.

In a matter of days, I became homeless, unemployed without the means to

reintroduce myself into the work force, unable to communicate via devices
to talk to my children, void of all self-respect, raped of my what little dignity
I held closely.

I did contact the police for the district in which I used to live, wanting a
police report. The officer (Officer Harrin) said my first recourse was to have
a ‘Peace’ Officier to escort me to the premisis to try to salvage some of my
possessions. She gave me the phone of that office. However, by the time I
got out of the hospital in late September, there was civil unrest against the
police on Avalon right next to the house. I did not want to exacerbate the
scene. As well, I was certain they had already done something with my
possessions, as it was already stated that they were ‘gone.’

The irony is that the slogan for Positive Journey Housing is For The
Prevention of Homelessness. And yet, they made me homeless…
I am much better and stronger now, thank goodness. I would like to proceed
with a civil suit, as I do not want them to do this to anybody else. I would
love any advice, counsel, and representation if your firm is willing to take
this on, or if you know of a pro-bono attorney who would be well suited for
this sort of mess. I have already contacted Officer Harrin at (213) 972-7829,
who is interested in the case.

Please contact me at anytime

justice served.
Thank you very much for your time,

Christina Cushman Gersten

(424) 413-3857
c.gersten@icloud.com