by Karen Ocamb

“I didn’t realize how much it meant to me,” said Bill LaValle, collapsing into sobs of relief and joy after learning that he had been picked in the lottery to get into Triangle Square, the historic affordable LGBT senior housing facility created by the nonprofit Gay & Lesbian Elder Housing.

“I think I’ve reached the top of the roller coaster,” said Margo Strik, somewhat stunned after opening her letter of acceptance.

LaValle and Strik were among seven low-income LGBT seniors featured in the powerful and moving documentary A Place to Live: The Story of Triangle Square, screened at the Outfest film festival July 12. Director Carolyn Coal followed the building’s development alongside the seniors’ emotional journey as they desperately, frankly and courageously fought against the stalking terror of homelessness—the silent scourge of institutionalized anti-LGBT discrimination.

At the film’s end, Triangle Square opens, and the euphoria of having a safe, secure and luxurious LGBT independent space in which to live leaps off the screen.

There is no hint of the looming discord after expectations smack up against reality.

The journey to Triangle Square started in 2000, when longtime activist Ivy Bottini received a phone call asking if she knew of emergency housing for a senior desperate to leave an abusive relationship.

She did not. It was the last straw. Bottini called a meeting of grassroots organizations “to get a broad-based ‘buy-in’ for the idea of a building for LGBT elders at affordable rents,” Bottini told IN Los Angeles magazine. “About 25 men and women came to that meeting. They came ready to commit. We were on our way.”

The group jumped through federal, state and local governmental legal and funding hoops as the group grew and gained momentum, getting a state start-up grant under the fiscal auspices of the L.A. Gay & Lesbian Center, recruiting professionals and donors, and finally incorporating as Gay & Lesbian Elder Housing (GLEH) on Dec. 26, 2001.

One of the governmental requirements for funding was proof that a need for LGBT senior housing existed. According to the U.S. Census, the largest portion of the U.S. population is those ages 60 and over. Since sexual orientation is not considered in the census, GLEH estimated that between 30,000-75,000 LGBT older adults live in the greater Los Angeles area.

But as a 2006 report from MetLife Mature Market Institute and Lesbian and Gay Aging Issues Network of the American Society on Aging (LGAIN) indicated, LGBT seniors have many of the same and very different needs and concerns as their heterosexual peers. It was a point that mattered to Ruth Tittle, CEO of Capitol Drugs, who got involved in GLEH because of Bottini and the late Dr. Ron Gelb.

“What touched me was that in a lot of different ways, we were completing the circle of our family,” Tittle told IN, noting her past involvement with Gay & Lesbian Adolescent Social Services. “We can grow old together in our own community,” something she was unable to do with her beloved gay brother, who died of AIDS in 1993.

Additionally, Tittle said, referring to her Cherokee heritage, “there’s so much [the elders] have to teach our youth, to carry on our culture and our identity.”

Instrumental to the process was partnering with McCormack Baron Salazar, renowned as developers that build and manage affordable housing in urban neighborhoods.

“The first thing we had to do was find land,” said Mercedes Marquez, then the lesbian vice president of McCormack Baron Salazar, who previously served in the Clinton administration’s Department of Housing and Urban Development. Marquez is now the general manager of the Los Angeles Department of Housing.

The development process was long and complicated, she said, dealing with governmental agencies, developing partnerships and trying to balance funding sources with income levels.

“This is not assisted living, and it was never promised as such. It’s independent housing for seniors, with supportive services,” Marquez said. And while Triangle Square is “celebratory of gay and lesbian culture,” it is not exclusive to LGBT people, since Fair Housing laws prohibit discrimination based on sexual orientation.

Mark Supper, executive director of GLEH, with over 20 years of professional experience with low income housing, told IN that GLEH reached out to LGBT seniors, especially those in “dire situations”—living in homeless shelters or “couch-jumping” after being evicted.

One major complication was how to structure the percentages of income levels and set-asides for people living with HIV/AIDS and the 17 units for the homeless or those at risk of homelessness. The criteria for residency is simple: The applicant must be age 62 or over and earn a minimum 60 percent of the area median income per year, which comes out to approximately $26,000-31,000 for one person. The monthly rates range from roughly $230-800 a month, in an area of Hollywood undergoing revitalization.

In order not to cluster together people with HIV/AIDS or similar incomes, GLEH devised a regimented plan to integrate the diverse residents. But while GLEH planned for residents with higher incomes to pay the higher rents and thus help sustain the facility, most of the applications were from very low-income seniors. That caused an unexpected financial hit, forcing GLEH to recalculate its income formula while also essentially subsidizing a number of poor residents, Supper said. Some plans were postponed or cut to meet GLEH’s fiscal responsibilities.

“Housing is the number one issue, so we had to get creative with donors to help those out at the lowest income levels,” Supper said.

GLEH broke ground on Triangle Square in October 2005. The $22 million facility opened in May 2007 but, because of the structured plan to place all income levels on each floor, it took until December to fill the 103 units (one unit houses a GLEH staffer). Today, Supper said, about 86 percent of the units have occupants who self-identify as LGBT.

Within months of moving in, complaints started to surface. A big TV was stolen; residents entered and exited from doors that were not secure, allowing people to walk in off the streets of Hollywood. There were problems with the promised gym, with the only piece of donated equipment broken and the hours too restrictive. The vent for the pool was inoperative and there was no place to sit. There were cultural and personality clashes galore, often fueled by gossip and miscommunication among residents and between residents and management.

The latest rumor is that the GLEH board members who provide services to the residents are being reimbursed through Medicare or Medi-Cal. They are not, board member Richard Golance, a past LGAIN co-president and a therapist with a specialty in LGBT geriatrics, told IN. In fact, as volunteers, they often lose money to provide the free service.

“I’m doing it out of affection and love and an appreciation for the generation that came before me,” Golance said about his men’s group. “If there’s any selfish reason, it’s because I want to hear their stories.”

To Jim Witt, the most egregious problems dealt with security and safety. A firefighter with the Chicago Fire Department for 37 years, Witt came to Los Angeles after his partner of 15 years and two other firefighters were killed in a fire; Witt was seriously injured.

“It was too difficult for me to go back to work at the station again and see the empty hooks where their turn-out coats had previously hung,” Witt told IN. He spent his pension paying medical bills and expenses for his partner and the families of his two firefighter brothers. He left firefighting in 2003 with only Social Security and a small pension from the Veterans Administration—and rent that was eating up three-quarters of his meager income.

After being accepted and signing the lease, Witt said, “Ruth Tittle took me to see my apartment. I stood in the front hallway with Ruth and I started to cry as I told her ‘I’m finally home.’ She gave me a big hug.”

Though some consider Witt one of the lead “agitators,” he considers it his duty to speak up.

“This is my watch at Triangle Square,” Witt said. “As long as I’m alive and living here, I will not allow anyone to die on my watch because of fire and safety issues—or, more specifically, due to negligence by building management on these issues.”

Witt took the initiative “to point out the severe fire safety issues that needed to be addressed by management. But they would hear none of it because it was coming from a tenant,” he said. “From the time when the building opened on May 25, 2007, up until March 28, 2008, we had 14 full building fire alarms go off ” at all hours. The residents became so accustomed to the “false alarms,” many didn’t bother to vacate the building, he said. The sensitive alarm system was eventually fixed.

But there were other safety issues, which prompted Witt to call L.A. Fire Inspector Robert Gladden to inspect the facility on May 9. His report (which IN has seen) includes telling GLEH to remove combustible carpet in the stairwells. GLEH management subsequently scheduled a fire safety meeting with residents.

“The fire safety issues have been corrected,” Witt said. “But is this supposed to happen in a brand new building that is being presented to the nation as a showpiece for the LGBT communities around the nation?”

Witt had a serious entanglement with GLEH on March 28 when he and Paul Ehret (who has a master’s degree in education administration), as members of the Triangle Square Resident Council, asked to speak privately with the activities director (a young man no longer employed by GLEH). In a March 31 letter to GLEH Program Director Julissa Espinoza, Ehret explains that he did all the talking, but the activities director called the police, who made out an incident report on Witt.

In an April 10 letter to Witt, Supper noted several opportunities given to Witt to discuss his grievance, but added that any violation of the House Rules and Regulations, which includes abusive language or behavior toward residents or management staff, “could result in verbal or written warning and if these behaviors continue, ultimately, in or eviction.”

Supper refused to comment on the LAPD incident report, citing privacy concerns. Witt said Supper told him GLEH would not press charges, but Witt was nonetheless concerned about “clearing my name” since the report was full of misinformation.

The Residency Council was subsequently suspended by GLEH after a series of resignations. Supper said the board is trying to come up with a new way to ensure that the residents have a voice. Meanwhile, Witt and others have formed an “ad hoc committee” to try to create an independent residents association.

There have been other confrontations between residents and management. An incident on May 27, for instance, resulted in Margo Strik, an important member of the 1980s lesbian group Southern California Women for Understanding, having her privileges suspended.

Strik and five other residents were watching a ball game in the community room while a scheduled Salsa dance lesson was happening nearby. According to Strik, the game-watchers and the instructor (a GLEH staffer with only one resident in the class) were trying to reach an “amicable solution” to the noise conflict, when Program Director Julissa Espinoza first ordered the TV volume turned down, then ordered the TV turned off. Strik got upset.

“Yes, I raised my voice and used the ‘f-word’ a few times,” Strik wrote in a May 30 letter to Espinoza. “That was because I reacted to an oppressive attitude from you. When one has had to face 65+ years of oppression such as I have—as a child under the Nazi occupation in my home country, as a woman in business and as a lesbian in a homophobic society—one reacts.”

Strik was suspended from all GLEH programs and services for a two-week period.

“Being suspended from GLEH programs and events felt like being treated like a 7-year-old in school,” Strik told IN. “The reality of the ‘suspension’ was ridiculous … Their programs miss the mark, as far as my 71-year-old lesbian interests go. Thus, keeping me away from participating in things I have no interest in was so totally meaningless. And I don’t think it ‘scared’ anyone into ‘better behavior.’”

“I think Margo's punishment backfired. We all supported her and stood shoulder to shoulder with her,” Sherry H. Price, a heterosexual tenant with a lesbian daughter told IN. “I am appalled by the treatment I have witnessed by both GLEH and the representatives of McCormack Baron. The people here have earned the right to respect, understanding and yes, even applause.”

“The disappointment of this adventure lies in the fact that I never imagined that GLEH would be so obsessive and controlling with regard to managing the manner in which our living community inter-relates with one another,” said Ehret.

LaValle, a longtime freelance editor, writer and therapist, who has also had some problems with management, said the group that includes Witt, Ehret and Strik “attack GLEH for everything. They don’t want to be told what to do. They want to do what they want to do, when they want to do it, and they don’t want to be told they can’t do it.”

“It was probably easier getting the building built than it has been during this ‘shakeout’ time in managing the building and all the personalities of the 103 LGBT elders,” Bottini told IN. “I believe that all staff who interact with the residents must understand who they are and how their lives have been a struggle and a fight to live through the early years of being LGBT in a world that basically hated them and did not want to see or know they exist. ... It is a fine line for everybody to walk.”

Michael Adams, executive director of the New York-based Senior Action in a Gay Environment (SAGE)/USA, who is helping GLEH develop programs, agrees.

“These are people who have been traumatized by hostility and violence, or the threat of violence, and had to be extremely courageous just to live their lives,” Adams told IN. “It’s a lot of work to figure out what a safe space looks like for them … Even at our drop-in center we have periodic conflicts.”

Despite the best expert opinions, said attorney and GLEH board Chair Mark Lehman, it wasn’t until the residents were in Triangle Square “that we actually knew how we could best serve them. That’s what we’re doing now. We’re going through a whole re-evaluation of the social services program, bringing in some new partners to provide services that need to be provided. It’s tough.”

Since housing was the top priority, Golance told IN, social service needs were put on the backburner. Besides, no one had any idea what the resident population would look like and, therefore, what the needs would be.

“The problem is that it’s independent living, and we cannot demand or force anyone to sign up for any social service,” Golance said. “Ultimately, they’re grownups and it’s patronizing to think we have to fix it for them.”

However, Golance does think the communication between the staff and the residents “needs to be worked on. We need to put a system in place that’s more user-friendly.”

“You can predict and prepare all you want, but reality is another thing,” said Supper, noting that Triangle Square is the first such endeavor and a template for LGBT senior facilities in the future. He said the past six month “shakeout period” has been an opportunity for GLEH to step back, let the building “settle,” and let situations “play out” to better understand the seniors’ needs.

In fact, Supper said, he’s ironically pleased with all the complaints. “When you get to the point where people are complaining about the lack of pool furniture, that’s phenomenal,” he said. “It’s a good sign because it means they’re not worried that they can’t pay their rent or about the basic standards of life.”

Indeed, Strik said the documentary reminded her of “the community’s dream as well as my own hopes for a homogenous place to live out my senior years in harmony” with other LGBT people.