Stranger at the door in dark of night needs more help than anyone has given

It was dark, and late, when a woman I’ve never seen before entered our fenced yard, far off the beaten path. It was a warm night, so the top leaf of our Dutch door was open.

She leaned into the house with what looked like an armful of flowers. A delivery person, at nearly 9:30 p.m.? I rushed to the door as my three dogs went berserk. The “flowers” were actually one long palm frond filled with berries, petals and random foliage she must have picked along the way.

“I’m all about peace and love,” she said.

My husband held back the lunging dogs. She told us her name and said she wanted her cats. Her dad was here and she wanted to see him. And this was her house.

That’s when it started to feel a little scary. If I knew then what I know now, it would have felt a lot scary: Multiple assaults with a deadly weapon (though not a gun). Harassment complaints and restraining orders. Meth and narcotics arrests. Robbery and battery — including on a peace officer, only days before. Her tangles with the law went clear back to 1996.

“She would not leave my house … she ransacked my office and possibly stole things & she was verbally abusive,” said a restraining order request from 2020 in Los Angeles County. “She pushed me and she grabbed my phone away from me because I was going to call 911, she grabbed my arms and held me all the way outside, scratched my face and was screaming at me all the way outside that I killed her father and worked for the government to kill people for money!!”

With that thick, heavy feeling like you’re moving through water, I asked what she had taken and if I could get her help. She assured me she was sober and erupted with insults and invective, calling us racists and using slurs and on and on. We said she needed to leave. She refused. We announced that we were calling 911 and dialed as she watched — and she retreated out the gate spewing venom, disappearing into darkness.

The Laguna Beach Police Department said it came out that night, Sunday, Aug. 11, but didn’t find anyone. We waited up, but no one came to ask us any questions. I wish we would have done things differently — but more on lessons learned in a minute.

Violated

Turns out the woman entered a nearby home. According my neighbor and corroborated by police, she apparently spent the night destroying it —  gutting pillows with kitchen knives, smashing dishes and artwork, ripping up photos, throwing everything in the trash, turning on faucets to flood the place, dressing in my neighbor’s clothes and jewelry.

The next day, she proceeded to the larger house on the same property, where my neighbor’s grandchild was having one of his last days of summer break. She said she was a friend there to babysit him. He wisely retreated to a bedroom, locked the door, called 911.

The woman managed to urinate on beds before police arrived. She was arrested yet again.

When I say again, I mean: On Aug. 5, she “did unlawfully injure and temper with a vehicle and the contents thereof and did break and remove part of a vehicle without the consent of the owner,” according to a misdemeanor complaint filed by the District Attorney’s office.

On Aug. 7, she “did willfully and unlawfully use force and violence upon the person of Julie R” (battery).

On Aug. 8, she “did willfully and unlawfully use force and violence upon the person of Officer Meyer, who was a peace officer engaged in the performance of duty” (battery on peace officer).

But there she was on Aug. 11, at (and in) our doors.

The felony complaint the D.A. filed for the alleged Aug. 12 offenses includes six counts — three felonies and three misdemeanors. There’s first-degree residential burglary (“with the intent to commit larceny”); vandalism (“did maliciously and unlawfully deface with graffiti and other inscribed material, damage, and destroy, floor, pillows, frames, real and personal property” worth more than $400); grand theft (did unlawfully take and obtain money and personal property, labor and services” worth more than $950); more vandalism (“did maliciously and unlawfully deface with graffiti and other inscribed material, damage and destroy bed spread, real and personal property” exceeding $400); trespass – occupation by squatter (“with the intent to dispossess the owner”); and petty theft (willfully and unlawfully steal, take, carry, lead and drive away the personal property” of the resident).

She pleaded not guilty. She was still in jail as of Friday.

Point is …

Clearly, no one was physically injured. Things could have been much worse. But my neighbors are traumatized, we are spooked, and — did it really have to happen?

Problems have been a matter of public record for decades. She was beaten and held against her will; she won a large cash judgment; she filed for bankruptcy. An attorney petitioned to be relieved of the duty to represent her back in 2020, saying she refused to consider legal advice and was unable to avoid verbally abusive behavior.

We’re not naming her because, with all she has to deal with, running her name here probably wouldn’t be helpful. But this whole episode is a maddening encapsulation of our big-picture failure to protect and care for folks who can’t seem to care for themselves — as well as the public.

It’s no secret that nearly half of the people in jail — 44% — and almost as many of those in prison — 37% — have mental illness, according to the federal Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration.

“Too often, jails and prisons serve as providers of mental health care — care that is often inadequate to meet the needs of a person with a mental illness,” says the National Alliance on Mental Illness. “Despite constitutional rights for individuals who are incarcerated to receive medical and mental health care, nearly two-thirds of people with mental illness in jails and prisons do not receive mental health treatment.”

And as we at the Southern California News Group have been chronicling for years, the kinder, gentler, less expensive, more effective, community-based mental health care system that was supposed to replace those horrid, institutional, psychiatric human warehouses never materialized — at least, not on a scale that’s in any way commensurate with the need.

Californians have approved a $6.4 billion bond and other changes to try to address these failures, but it isn’t going to be quick going. In the meantime, what do you do if someone who seems seriously mentally ill appears on your doorstep?

Action plan

Calling 911 is an obvious first step, but our error was perhaps stopping there.

“There are several services available for people living with mental illness in our county system and the best way to get started is to call OCLinks — 855-625-4657 — which operates 24 hours per day, 7 days per week,” Orange County Behavioral Health Director Ian Kemmer told us by email.

“If the person is experiencing a mental health crisis, OCLinks can dispatch our mobile crisis team to assess the client and make the appropriate referrals to get the person the help they need. Also, our Outreach and Engagement team can be called during business hours at 800-364-2221 and they will come out to meet with the person to help find resources and work with them to access treatment. The main goal would be for a mental health professional to engage the person so that they could get the treatment they need.”

We could have called. The police department could have called. But she had “disappeared” and wasn’t obviously violent. Mental health teams aren’t on the clock 24/7 for emergency visits and this didn’t appear to rise to crisis level. Still, I wish I had called and spoken to someone with expertise in this arena. Maybe OC Links could have gotten its Outreach and Engagement team out here to look for her the next day, to try to engage her into treatment.

I also wish I had called 911 again that night. The PD came out after our initial call but found everything quiet, officials said. That was it. If I had called again an hour later, maybe they would have poked around a bit more, maybe heard the ruckus as my neighbor’s house was thrashed? We spoke with law enforcement types who said that was unlikely, that it probably would have looked like another light on in another house. But the squeaky wheel gets the grease, and if you’re uncomfortable, squeak.

Police can also put people on 5150 holds if they believe it’s warranted, said OC’s Kemmer. “They can call OCLinks and many do. We have worked to ensure that the police departments have this information readily available.”

The county is preparing to launch a multi-prong awareness campaign about OCLinks to drill that home, to ensure folks know who to call during a mental health crisis for themselves or someone else.

I’ll certainly be keeping that number handy. Though I have no idea how she would up in this neighborhood, she has been known to pay repeat visits.

“Her Dad died in January 2017 and approximately in May of 2017 she started calling me, leaving me notes at my door and accusing me and my family of stealing from her dad and I had killed him,” said the 2020 restraining order request from a distant relative. “Once, she showed up at my house and my husband was here… We tried making sense of what she was trying to say to us, but couldn’t! ….She was irrational all the time!”

In the meantime, we have installed cameras and extra locks. Also highly recommended: dogs. Big, loud and plentiful. If not for them, I’m certain she would have marched straight into our house.