Unhoused Long Beach | ‘Home Sweet Home, For Now’

by Kevin Flores | Published August 13, 2019 in Journalism

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Unhoused Long Beach is a series of conversations on homelessness with city officials, folks experiencing homelessness, service providers, advocates, and experts. Our hope is that by the end of the series, we’ve gathered a collection of facts and perspectives that helps readers better understand a complex, urgent, and sometimes polarizing issue that our city—and state—currently faces. In this second installment of the series we spoke to Sharon Tate and Stacy Schneider, who have been living in a motel since being displaced in March. Find part one of Unhoused Long Beach here.

For the last five months, Sharon Tate and Stacy Schneider, both 52 and disabled, have been homeless. In March, they were evicted from their downtown apartment because the owner wanted to build an upmarket residential project on the property. Since then, they’ve mostly been staying at the Colonial Pool and Spa Motel, waiting for a subsidized apartment to become available through the city’s Rapid Rehousing program.

The motel is a ratty spot on Pacific Coast Highway—its one-star Yelp page is filled with ghastly reviews—but it offers some of the cheapest rates in town. Code enforcement officers have actually cited the motel for bed bugs and roaches in the past. Even so, the roommates say it’s better than sleeping outside—“Home sweet home, for now,” Schneider quips.

Apart from the occasional misguided out-of-towner, motels like this largely serve as a refuge for those on the brink of destitution. Many of them can be found clustered along a stretch of PCH that runs through the Washington and Poly High neighborhoods, about a 30-minute walk from the Long Beach Multi-Service Center, where unhoused folks have access to social workers, showers, three meals a day, and a variety of other services.

In a previous installment of this series, Daniel Brezenoff, the mayor’s senior advisor on homelessness and housing, talked about a state senate bill introduced in February that would make it easier for motels like the Colonial to be converted into fully-fledged transitional housing.

The saga of how Tate and Schneider ended up at one of these motels began over two years ago.

The parcel that contained the near-century-old building where the roommates had lived for 14 years was bought in 2017 by Leeward Capital of Long Beach, a Delaware-based limited liability company.

Soon after the company took over the 1101-1157 Long Beach Blvd. property, it sent a change of ownership notice to tenants saying “…we look forward to a long relationship together.”

But that relationship soured quickly, the women say, because the new owner neglected the building while still collecting rent. Mold, vermin infestations, unsafe stairs, and a dysfunctional electrical system were among the many problems plaguing the structure.

In late 2017, code enforcement inspectors noted 18 violations at the address. The violations went uncorrected after five re-inspections over four months, city records show. A lien was eventually placed on the property for failure to pay the $2,395 in fines and fees levied by the city. In the meantime, Leeward Capital did find the money to contribute $800 to Mayor Robert Garcia’s 2018 reelection campaign.

Inspectors tagged the building with more violations on June 2018, saying that the structure showed evidence of “rot, infestation and progressive deterioration.” Again the landlord seemingly ignored the violations and subsequent citations, prompting code enforcement to file another lien on the property for the outstanding balance, this time totaling more than $9,000.

The managing member of Leeward Capital is Barry Beitler, who also happens to be a managing partner at Pacific Property Partners, the firm developing the site. Beitler did not return multiple requests seeking comment. Los Angeles County Assessor records show that he owns a $3.7 million mansion in Brentwood.

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Amidst the piling up code violations, the Planning Commission in September approved a site plan submitted by the developer for a 120-unit, mixed-use project at the location. It called for the demolition of the so-called Plaza Hotel building where Schneider, Tate, and nearly two dozen other low-income tenants lived. There was no mention of these tenants at the meeting.

By this point, the last hangers-on in the building, including Schneider and Tate, had stopped paying rent because they had been dealt unlawful detainer lawsuits, yet were unable to find another home.

The Plaza Hotel, which had previously been the Astor Hotel and then the Al Mar Hotel—which, rumor held, once housed convalescing soldiers injured in WWII—was something of a holdover from the days when single-room occupancy housing was commonplace downtown.

In more recent times the location had become a hotspot for police activity, its facade often scrawled with graffiti, and it even had a problem with squatters occasionally wandering in off the street—yet, it was an affordable home to disabled folks, low-income families, and seniors.

With help from a letter sent by the city prosecutor threatening anyone still inside with a misdemeanor trespassing charge, the last remaining residents were cleared out of the building by March and it was bulldozed a few months later.

A relocation assistance law that has been on the city’s books since 1991 says that property owners must give low-income renters who will be displaced by a demolition an 18-months notice and provide them with relocation assistance. It explicitly states that a landlord cannot evict renters using the traditional 30/60-day notice to quit to get around these requirements. However, former tenants who were evicted from the Plaza Hotel building say these rules were not followed. The law is administered by the Housing and Neighborhood Services Bureau. A Development Services spokesperson said that the bureau never received information indicating that there were any legal occupants in the building when the owner applied for a demolition permit.

The site is now being prepared for construction and the project that will soon lord over that corner is part of Pacific Property Partners recent forays into the burgeoning downtown area. They are also in the process of renovating the 13-story Security Pacific National Bank on Pine Avenue into a 210-room hotel, and earlier this year the builder joined a cadre of business interests in signing an open letter in support of constructing a baseball stadium on the downtown waterfront.

For their part, Schneider and Tate are among 21 former tenants displaced from the Plaza Hotel who are listed as plaintiffs in a civil lawsuit against Leeward Capital seeking damages caused by the owner’s alleged failure to maintain the building in a habitable condition in the two years before it was knocked down.

“I think it’s pretty clear that the owner has been wanting to [demolish the building] for years, perhaps. And ever since that determination was made, they pretty much neglected it as owners,” said Christofer Chapman, the attorney representing the tenants. “For the most part, these tenants are poor people who really have no place to go. They have little resources, they have medical problems, some have mental illnesses.”

We caught up with Schneider and Tate at the Colonial Motel in July to ask them about their experience with displacement and homelessness thus far.

This interview has been lightly edited for clarity and brevity.

How did the two of you meet?

We grew up together, went to Barnett Middle School in Long Beach for summer school. And that’s where I met Sharon. It worked out really good. We became good friends.

And so you two were friends growing up but kind of lost touch for a while and then by coincidence ended up as neighbors, right?

About twenty years ago I moved to Bellflower and my next door neighbor was Stacy.

Then her roommate wanted to be with her boyfriend so I moved in with Sharon on March 9th, 1996, the day George Burns died.

What brought the two of you to the apartment at 1101 Long Beach Blvd.?

Well we came to 1101 in 2004. And we had some really nice owners who took care of the property and helped us. I was able to be a manager despite my disability and I was thankful.

I learned a lot of things about maintenance. I learned how to unclog a bathroom tub, I learned how to unclog the sink, I learned how to do the toilet repairs. I learned a lot of things. That made me achieve some of the goals that most people say disabled people can't do. It was something that made me proud because I accomplished something that people said I can never do.

So you both lived there in relative peace for numerous years. And then what happened that changed that?

The building got sold March 30 of 2017. And it was hard because you've been there for so long and it's like, you know, look this is the only place I can afford to live.

When Leeward Capital bought the building, what did they say to you?

They said, “We're going to fix it up and take care of a lot of things,” and that was a bunch of baloney.

It was broken promises. They said they were going to fix the ceiling.

They never did.

What were the conditions around that time?

In 2018 is when it really started getting bad. There was a lot of moisture in the attic and the walls and also in the ceiling. There was too much moisture so they never really took the proper time to take care of it.

[The owner] said it was too much money [to make repairs].

They didn't do nothing, they just took our money and never did crap. But you know what? You want to spend a whole lot of money building places that you can’t house the homeless.

They didn't want to tell us right away that they were going to tear [the building] down. They waited and waited. So dishonest. I paid them, so why were we living in something that they couldn’t fix. They could have been truthful and said, “Look, we're kicking you guys out because we're money hungry. We just want money.” It’s brutal. People lost their homes because of them.

So Leeward Capital issued vacate notices to all of the tenants in mid-2018?

They told everybody to get out in 60 days. So I said, “How are we going to do anything in two months?”

It’s not that easy when you're disabled because we didn’t have too many people that could help us move stuff out.

How did all this make you feel, living in a place that was in such disrepair, never getting the fixes, and then in the end getting booted out?

I told the Lord I'm still mad, it peeves me off. Because you know what? Too many people lose their homes. And there ain't nothing out there to help them. And we get treated like we're garbage. And yet [the property owners] get to sit back and eat their dinners and have steak and all this other stuff. What the heck do we get? We get to eat hot dogs. Top Ramen, bologna. I mean, come on. I want a steak every now and then. I really do. I want a nice steak with a baked potato. I mean it really upsets me because they put people in that position. And the city knew [the property owner] was a scum lord and the city did not do nothing to get involved to help with the situation.

So once the 60 days were over, you two had to leave?

We didn't move right away because there was no where for us to go. One woman I called to see if I can rent a place told me they don't consider social security money, they consider it nothing. She said, “We have to have people with jobs.”

We put in over 125 [rental applications].

There’s so many waiting lists. It's really hard because there's not anything to help people you know, efficiently. The waiting list for Section 8 vouchers is very long. Some people have been waiting 10, 15 years just to get it.

My roommate and I, before we came [to the Colonial Motel], we were out on the street a couple of nights, you know, we slept on the street until we got this place.

What was that experience like?

It’s hard, it’s uncomfortable. Scary too at times.

Why was it scary?

Because you don't know who's gonna attack you at night.

I’ve met a lot of people, they’re older, they tell me they’re scared like that too.

Staying at this motel was tough at first for the two of you because you had to pay out-of-pocket…

Yeah. Now it gets paid by [motel assistance] vouchers and so right now we are saving money, just maybe enough to have a down payment. But about every every 14 days, or something like that, we have to switch [rooms].

You mentioned it was extra difficult to move your stuff out. Are there other ways that being disabled has made this experience more challenging?

Well, sometimes people don’t treat you like you’re supposed to be treated, you know, equally.

If you ever walk in the footsteps of somebody who’s disabled, then you will see because, I mean, I know growing up when I was younger, people used to throw rocks and food at me because I was in special education. They called me dummy, stupid, and retarded. I understand, okay, I was born that way. I'm trying to learn how to live for myself and live on my own and have my own things and do things that you should be able to be proud of.

You’ve been able to get assistance from the city’s Multi-Service Center during the time you’ve been homeless. Can you tell me about that?

They’ve given us [bus] tokens, vouchers for our stay at the motel, and they help us with stuff that needs to be done. They make sure we keep our doctors’ appointments. If we have problems we go down there and they help us. The MC is really good.

Is there anything the city can improve on based on your experience?

I think Mayor [Robert] Garcia needs to look into things because there's a lot of people that are disabled, a lot of seniors, and a lot of kids who are on the streets. [The city] needs to have ways of making rent affordable for everybody to live, not just for the owners to get more money, but for everybody to be able to live and be treated fairly. There's a lot of people that have high-paying jobs and can afford a two-or-three-thousand-dollars-a-month rent but there's a lot of us that can't, we're on a fixed income.

I see a lot of homeless people: kids, disabled, married couples. And they sleep in cars, some sleep on the bus. I see a whole lot that the government just don’t see. That nobody don’t see. And they need more support and more understanding.

We have to find a way to combat homelessness. There's just too many people out there on the street that don't need to be on the street.

What do you miss the most about having your own apartment?

Having my own room. When I have company come and see me, I want to have more room for people to come, you know, not be crammed up. But this is how we have to live for right now.

I wasn't able to get my crock pot out of the old place. I wish I would have been able to get that so I can make some crock pot dinners.

With how stressful all this has been, has going through this together made it more or less difficult?

I look up to Sharon. And we help each other. And Sharon gives me strength. When I fall, Sharon gives me that same thing God does. I mean, sometimes you have to have someone physically in your life. And I would have probably sunk a little bit harder if I wasn't with Sharon. But I thank God I’m with Sharon and thank God that our friendship lasted. I thank God that we're family, I thank God that we trust each other enough to know each other, to know our dislikes, and know what we want, know how we want to do it. Despite our disabilities.

Update: On Monday, Schneider said she and Tate were no longer receiving vouchers from the city to pay for their room at the Colonial motel. “Don’t know where we will be next week,” she said.

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