6/4/2014

Anna bought me dinner.   I spent the day copying and translating and the evening smiling at old women and distributing fliers, and so I did not pass up the opportunity for a hamburger.  Dinner is not exactly what it is called, a hamburger at 9:30pm, but she bought me it anyway, and I am grateful.

Anna revealed a little bit about her life to me.  She came to this line of work on accident--maybe it’s not too much to say she didn’t choose the job, the job chose her.  She wanted to be in films, to do credits, to act, maybe.  She studied in Paris.  It didn’t work out.  She ended up back in New York, worked at Lincoln Center, worked at a bigshot law firm.  Then her landlord decided she had to go.  She’s rent stabilized, see, so if her landlord could force her out, he could make thousands of dollars more a month on rent.  So he lied and he harassed her and he intimidated her and he took her to court.   He claimed she didn’t live there, that she was using it for illegal activity.  He hired a private eye to spy on her, to lie to her neighbors about her.  He thought he would win.  He didn’t, though.  Because he picked a fight with the wrong woman.  Anna got smart, realized the same he was trying to pull.  Read every piece of case law she could get her hands on, read every legal journal, talked to every advocate, picked up every trick in the book.  She took him to court--and she won, three times.  She kept the apartment, and all of her landlord’s money and skulduggery and high priced attorneys and political connections had been for naught.  But Anna wasn’t done.  Now that she knew the tricks of the trade, she kept going.  Volunteered for the Mayor, met Helen, ended up spending her days (and many of her nights) helping others get through what she went through, take control of their lives back, hold onto their homes.  She likes the job--it’s something new everyday.  She’s worried, though.  She doesn’t want to lose.  What if Ms. Flaherty, the accused hoarder--what if she loses her home?  Or Mr. Moscovitz and his sweet little daughters?  Anyway, what can you do.  You do your best.   A bit of her life is not exactly what it is called, the origin story of an incredibly dedicated and whipsmart public servant, but she told it to me anyway, and I am grateful.