For People Already Foreclosed On, Eviction 'Moratorium' Measures Are Too Little, Too Late

Her parents bought two properties on Fashion Avenue in 1974. D'agne said she had been using the second home to offer housing for people in desperate situations.

“I grab these people off the street, love on them, give them a hot meal and, you know, transition them into a better quality of life," she said.

But this week, D'agne was sitting in her car, filled with piles of her belongings. Her neighbor’s lawn was scattered with the contents of D'agne’s entire life. She watched her nephew and niece help haul a washing machine into a huge moving van.

Three weeks ago, D'agne received an eviction notice.

D'agne said she took a loan out on her home and wasn’t able to make payments, so the lender went after her house. She was foreclosed on, and evicted.

She already had two strokes, chronic back problems and has been living on disability since 2011.

Then, the coronavirus hit.

“It's overwhelming,” she said. “It's really overwhelming. I've never been through anything like this before.”

“I think that's the last of her worries,” said Oluwakemi Deckon, D'agne’s 15-year-old niece. She was there helping the move because her school was canceled.

D'agne said when coronavirus started popping up in the news, she didn't give it any attention. But now, D'agne is concerned. She has asthma and bronchitis, which makes her more likely to die from COVID-19.

She said the new property owners told her, “I don't know where you're going to quarantine, but it won't be here at this property.”

“So I guess I'll do it in my car," she told them.

D'agne has to adjust to being newly homeless.

“I'm like, sweetie you're homeless,” she said. “I need to speak those words. You are homeless.”

In this new era of social distancing, D'agne is struggling to reach out and find help. “I'm always helping others. I'm not used to, you know, reaching out for help,” she said.

Cities like San Francisco have initiated emergency quarantine zones in RV’s for homeless people who become infected with the virus. The Los Angeles Homeless Services Authority is setting up hand-washing stations by homeless encampments. They released guidelines on how to sanitize shelters, where people typically live in very close quarters.

Just this week, Long Beach passed a law that protects tenants from eviction and foreclosure in the midst of the epidemic. But it only protects people who’ve lost their jobs or picked up extra expenses due to the outbreak.

After the measure passed, Long Beach Mayor Robert Garcia said more needs to be done. He said state and federal dollars need to go directly into people’s pockets to ensure people can stay housed or find emergency housing.

“The real work must come from the state and federal government,” Garcia said. “And I could encourage us to work with the federal administration to ensure as robust a financial package as possible.”

D'agne’s old house is now empty. If a statewide eviction freeze had been mandated just a few weeks earlier, maybe she wouldn’t be in this situation, scrambling to find a place to stay during a pandemic.

After they finished moving the washing machine, workers came and said goodbye, sharing some warmth.

“I have to embrace who I am and wherever this new life takes me, still be who I am and help others,” D'agne said. “And that's, that's just who I am. So I'm not going to cry. I'm just not. I can't, I can't cry.”

Federal money could make all the difference for people like D'agne, who are living without a safety net.

More local laws to protect people from homelessness could be on the way. State assemblyman Phil Ting, D-San Francisco, is working on a new law that orders eviction freezes across California for up to a year.

Los Angeles also is building 6,000 beds for homeless people in recreation centers across the city. There are about 27,000 unsheltered homeless people in L.A.

“This is a state of emergency. You have people out there," D'agne said. "Don't just let them die."