I can't do no movin' or packin'

by Lani Kent/PoorNewsNetwork

"I'm sick and these old joints have cracked," spoke the 84-year-old Grace Wells as we relaxed into her worn-in sofa, "I can't do no movin' and packin'." Her soft voice and soft skin tensed from behind her neck-brace when asked where she would go if her landlord succeeds in evicting her: "Oh darlin, I don't know...to the park?"

When constant harassment did not intimidate the intrepid Grace, the new property owners at 908 Page St evicted her under the state Ellis Act. Claiming to want to turn the three separate units into a single-family home, they found loopholes around the numerous laws that prohibit evictions of seniors, the disabled, or the catastrophically ill. Grace suffers from arthritis, diabetes and a heart condition.

"86% of evicted people are forced out of the city," said Ted Gullicksen of the SF Tenants Union. A move out of her apartment would not only strip her of the community she knows and loves; she would have to find a new doctor that she trusts, an honest social worker to help her, and good neighbors to look in on her. All rare and hard to come by, that Grace already has at 908 Page St..

As we continued our conversation, and Grace recounted her move from New Orleans to San Francisco back in 1942, Gullicksen led shouting protesters in a picket in front of her house. With the help of Grace's lawyer, Dean Preston, the picket attracted local TV networks and radio stations. "Since owning this building, they have operated it like Grace does not live here," we heard Preston explain to the crowd of reporters outside her front door. "They have threatened to turn her water off, they switched the garbage service around and confused her, and started construction upstairs." This 3-unit building is supposedly being turned into a large mansion-like home. The event was noisy with her personal information and Grace was full of heavy sighs.

"Darlin', what time is it?" she asked with her eyes cast down, watching the dusky shade creep into her living room. Daylight savings had not yet made its way into her spotless sitting room, so all the clocks were an hour off. She hadn't seemed to notice. "Well, I suppose I should take my pills before...." and her voice disappeared into the tumultuous energy rattling through her front windows.

The picket had just hit an all-time "loud" and Grace forgot her pills and instead reached for her walking cane. Picketers chanted "housing for people, not for profit," "stop senior evictions," and "housing is a human right." Grace carried herself to the porch and onto the steps where dusk met her with a small shiver. Reporters met her with big cameras and fancy suits. I followed her into the noise and hoped she would remember her pills after all the lights went away.

"I appreciate this, I think it's nice," Grace said to the camera. She spoke simply and pleasantly, as if appreciating a good home-cooked meal. With elderly elegance, she explained: "Been in this neighborhood a long time and now the new owners have asked me to leave. And I just donít know why."

"How ya doin? Miss Grace?" a neighbor interrupted from across the street. A second neighbor, Diane Mosely, added: "Miss grace is the matriarch on this street." Sadness passed over her eyes and she ran to Graceís side, congratulating her on the successful picket and acknowledging her courage. "This can happen to anyone," said a third worried neighbor, Mary Woods. Watching a sweet 84-year-old disabled woman (possibly) get evicted from her home has sent chills down the spine of this community.

Some might recall a chilling story that occurred last year around this time, when Poor News Network reported and supported the fight to save Lola McKay's home of 40 years. Like Grace, Lola received an Ellis eviction at the age of 84, and with no family to support her struggle, she decided not to fight it. She settled with the landlords and was allowed to live one more year in her home of 40 years. Within months of this lethal settlement she died of "natural cause," despite her pre-Ellis perfect health. Grace Well has no family or children to help her through this ordeal; she is alone and already in poor health.

Grace told her neighbors to give her a call after 7pm, after she rested a bit and was up for more talking. She then sat on her porch, seeing the picket to its conclusion and hoping for the best. The event lost steam as the sky grew darker. Grace grew more tired. I think I even heard non-stop-Gullicksen's voice crack a few times as he concluded: "Eviction by wealthy wealthy wealthy scumlords, don't care who they leave in the wake...put an 84 year old lady out so they can have a mansion." TV Anchors went back to their vans and Grace went back inside her house, locking the door and turning off the lights. She was wiped out by the afternoon and I didn't get a chance to thank her for the company, and the fruit, and all of her wonderful stories.

Just two hours of talking and 84 year old Grace proved too exhausted to lift a bone and wave goodbye. She's right, her old joints have cracked. She can't do "no movin and packin." She just can't.