Goodbye Dearly Beloved Bay Area
Lessons Learned From 32 Years in Heaven and Hell
As I packed everything I owned into my sixteen-year-old car and plunged into the ever-growing pool of homeless, senior women, I reflected on my journey from dreams to nightmares.
Seduced by the sweet talk of venture capitalists and the promise of financial freedom, my husband and I moved to the place where dreams come true, Silicon Valley.
We arrived in the Bay Area in 1992, with visions of successful IPOs (initial public offerings) filling our heads and hearts. We embraced the dream of living happily ever after while dancing through fields of gold.
The company we came to build would eventually go public and for a moment we were multi-millionaires!
Actually, I didn’t learn that we were “rich” until eight years later during the discovery phase of our divorce.
Before our venture capitalist (let’s call him, David Schnell) founded his own venture capital firm, he was a fledgling trying to convince us to leave our beautiful home in New Jersey and start a biopharmaceutical company called Microcide Pharmaceuticals.
He flew us to California and booked us into the upscale Garden Court Hotel in downtown Palo Alto. He wined and dined us, and when we were still undecided, he came to our hotel and babysat our children.
Spoiler alert: He would later crash our company and run off with the intellectual property. But, on this night, I trusted him enough to leave my precious children in his care.
Today, he manages over a billion dollars in funds and is part owner of the San Francisco Giants.
I recently discovered that we have been living within walking distance of each other. Extreme wealth and extreme poverty coexist in very close proximity in the Bay Area. The dream of financial freedom has certainly become a reality for him and a few others.
According to Forbes, there are 63 billionaires and over 285,000 millionaires living in the Bay Area.
According to Bay Area Equity Atlas, nearly half of all residents in the Bay Area are low-income or very low-income.
According to an article in the La Times, “a major study on homelessness in California, released last year by UC San Francisco’s Benioff Homelessness and Housing Initiative (BHHI), includes two notable findings: 48% of all unhoused single adults in the state are 50 or older and 41% of unhoused older adults became homeless for the first time after age 50.
Now a follow-up study from BHHI researchers dives further into that alarming trend, which they note is expected to continue as “the proportion of people age 65 and older experiencing homelessness in the United States [is] expected to triple between 2017 and 2030.”
Living only on Social Security ($1000 per month), I had fallen into the “acute poverty level” which is lower than “very low” and “extreme.” The Menlo Park town manager said my income was too low to qualify for low-income housing.
It has only been through grace that a dear friend rented a room to me below market price, and I was able to continue to call Menlo Park and Palo Alto home. Until now.
Every morning, I walked through downtown Palo Alto passing companies such as Amazon, Palantir, and endless wealth management companies. Symbols of success surrounded me every step of the way.
The valets at Epiphany Hotel, owned by billionaire, Larry Ellison, greeted me warmly every time I passed them. Larry Ellison, whose net worth is over 200 billion dollars, allegedly owns 24 homes, an extravagant number of cars, yachts, and airplanes, and most, if not all of the island of Lanai, in Hawaii.
One of his homes in the nearby town of Woodside is supposedly worth over 70 million dollars. As I walked by Nobu, the restaurant spilling out onto the sidewalk of his luxury hotel, I considered how the cost of one meal at this eatery could easily surpass the amount of money I had to live on for a month.
On my early morning walks, I saw sleeping bags and bodies curled up on these same sidewalks and in front of doorways. As the sun rose, these homeless people started pushing their shopping carts through the streets.
I watched their tired bodies shuffle out of sight before the well-to-do workers bounced off the train or parked their Teslas and headed into their cushy offices.
The spirit of innovation and life-changing technologies makes these cities tingle with potential and excitement.
But, it’s not life-enhancing or accessible for all. And, not everyone is welcome here.
There are three places on my walk through downtown Palo Alto where someone has written on the ground, “NIMBY” (Not In My Backyard).
When I arrived here in 1992, Menlo Park was a sleepy suburban town with a good school system. Mark Zuckerberg was eight years old. He was a second grader on the East Coast while I was creating our permanent home in our perfect little suburb on the West Coast.
Years later, Mark planted one of the biggest social media companies in the world in my backyard and tried to buy up whole neighborhoods around his home.
I don’t blame Mark or the success of Facebook alone for the housing crisis. Numerous technology companies such as Google, Apple, and Tesla have contributed to the astronomical cost of living in the Bay Area.
In the beginning, as the wife of a CEO, I enjoyed retreats with other clients of Kleiner Perkins at luxurious locations like the Ritz Carlton.
In 2000, as we maneuvered through our contentious divorce, my soon-to-be ex-husband declared our net worth to be over 10 million dollars before the sale of our home.
I had not “worked outside the home” since our first child was born. We had what was considered a long-term marriage in California (14 years) but when I asked my attorney about spousal support, she told me not to be greedy.
When my shares in the first company became worthless and my half million shares of stock in the subsequent company were not swapped along with everyone else’s, my financial picture began to look grim.
I fell into the category of “extreme poverty” about eight years ago. If not for the intervention of my dear friend who rented a room in her home to me, I would have been homeless many years ago.
By the way, if you have ever looked at a homeless person on the street and made a judgment, let me encourage you to rethink your thoughts.
As a new homeless person, I would like to introduce myself.
I graduated from college with a degree in psychology.
I married a college professor from Brown University.
I have never had any issues with alcohol, drugs, or mental illness.
I spent years supporting the growth of my husband’s company, helping to recruit employees, and networking with venture capitalists.
I volunteered in my children’s schools and created a food program to provide free, nutritious, hot meals to disadvantaged kids bussed into affluent neighborhoods.
I was fortunate enough to be a stay-at-home mom so I could provide a warm, loving, supportive home for my husband and children.
And now, all my worldly possessions fit in the trunk of my car.
So, how does someone go from the American Dream to the New Nightmare?
In the spirit of cautionary tales, I will share my roadmap with you.
When we were still unsure about moving to the Bay Area, our VC brought in the would-be lawyer for the company and his wife. They promised to be our friends for life and help us realize the dream of financial freedom.
And we were best friends, celebrating birthdays, spending time together at each other’s homes, and enjoying family outings with our children.
Until our divorce. And the announcement of her pregnancy with my husband.
She gave birth to their child even before our divorce was finalized.
My husband offered me a deal so I could remain in our Menlo Park home with our children. We were overjoyed. It involved selling stock and giving him a million dollars in cash.
I instructed our broker to sell enough of my stock so I could meet the demands of my husband and keep our children in their homes.
Unfortunately, our Merrill Lynch broker, Robert (Bob) Gallo, (who I later learned was the person who handled the IPO and the sale of stock for friends and family) chose not to sell the necessary amount of stock. Much later, I would learn that he was also the broker for more prominent company executives. Much, much, later, I would understand the meaning of “conflict of interest.”
My husband also surprised me with a court order on the night we were listening to buyers’ offers. The court order said our home would be sold to anyone but me. My children and I were devastated. My children wanted to know why he had done this, but, I had no answers.
The next day I told Bob Gallo that I wanted every bit of stock sold immediately. He convinced me that the stock price was falling and that it would go up again if I waited a few months. I eventually agreed, reluctantly. I trusted his expertise and professional obligation to do what was in his client's best interest.
And then, my now ex-husband and broker convinced me to give them $50,000 to purchase warrants. Bob Gallo made the purchase but never sold them. Over the next couple of months, the stock price would go to zero.
My husband would later explain that the company was trying to make a deal and they did not want anyone with the same name as the founder to dump stock. He said everyone knew about the deal and what was happening to the company. Everyone. But. Me.
This was recently confirmed by a former employee who also knew what was happening at that time and was able to negotiate a deal and get out of the company before the collapse.
I learned a lot about binding arbitration when I was encouraged by experts in the financial field to sue Bob Gallo for failure to execute an order and breach of fiduciary duty.
If you have ever opened a bank account, signed an employment agreement, or purchased a cell phone, you have probably agreed to binding arbitration. It’s in the small print of the document that no one reads.
Binding Arbitration means that, in case of a dispute, you have signed away your rights to a fair, jury trial. You have agreed to present your case to paid panelists whose voting records are public and get hired by these same companies over and over again. Studies have shown that results in binding arbitration are much more favorable for companies.
For me, it was a shocking lesson. Because we were asking for approximately 1.5 million dollars in damages, we had a three-person panel.
In a mind-boggling, split decision, the head of the panel, who was the industry expert, voted for me. The two public arbitrators voted for Merrill Lynch. Case closed. No explanation. No appeal.
I honestly believed that justice would be served. But, then someone laughed when I told them about the situation and said I never had a chance. The system is rigged, he told me.
As I prepared to leave my home of thirty-two years, I was reminded of the astonishing natural beauty of this area. For over three decades I brought my children and grandchildren on spectacular adventures to find ladybugs, explore tide pools filled with gorgeous sea creatures, and experience the awe of thousands of butterflies swirling around them.
The majesty of the Golden Gate Bridge and its symbolism as a gateway to opportunity will remain in my heart forever. I will never see a highway as breathtaking as Route One running alongside the Pacific Ocean. I will always be thankful for my time in the magical space of San Francisco.
And I am extraordinarily grateful to the people who have made the greatest difference in my life. I have met individuals who have become successful despite overwhelming odds. I know exceptional people who have spent a lifetime searching for truth and the meaning of life. I am the person I have become because of the exquisite people who shared their knowledge and wisdom with me.
But, as someone who has seen both sides now, and had my heart broken in way too many pieces, I feel compelled to share my story.
I still want to know why at the same time men, women, and children are sleeping in cars and under bridges and can’t afford food or the basic necessities of life, does any one person, for example, Larry Ellison, really need 200 billion dollars, 24 homes, a fleet of cars, multiple luxury yachts, private jets, and an island?
Why can’t we find a way to incorporate an equitable distribution of wealth from companies that are built on the backs of people?
While I appreciate the genius of Facebook, I also have to wonder if Mark Zuckerberg needs 10 homes, an island in Hawaii, and a bank account of over 181 billion dollars.
The imbalance of wealth is disturbing.
Why can’t we find a way to provide a decent quality of life for all human beings, not just the ones with a surplus of wealth?
Before my arbitration hearing began, the attorneys for Merrill Lynch approached me with huge grins and told me that they were going to win because that’s what they always do.
Why can’t the people who take advantage of others be held accountable? Can we address the systems such as binding arbitration that create an unfair playing field for justice?
Why can’t we commit to creating a society that cares about everyone? Can we embrace the values of decency, honesty, and compassion?
For the sake of my children, grandchildren, and all people of this world, I sincerely hope we can work together to create a better life and world for everyone.
So, with this, I say goodbye dearly beloved, Bay Area. I have lived, loved, and learned so much from you. I will miss you for the rest of my life. But, for now, I have to attend to my shattered heart, and my unsheltered existence, and restore my faith in my ability to rebuild my life.
I believe we can all do better.
