For over ten years, his role involved assisting individuals experiencing homelessness in securing housing.
Last week, social worker Anthony Ruffin became homeless.
On Monday morning, five days following the devastating Eaton Fire that impacted much of Altadena, Ruffin, aged 56, dabbed his eyes while sipping coffee at a diner in Glendale, reminiscing about the path he has tread throughout his life. He spoke about a predominantly black community.
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Steve Lopez hails from California and has been a columnist with the Los Angeles Times since 2001. He has received over a dozen national journalism accolades and was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize on four occasions.
“I used to wander about, knock on doors, greet people’s mothers…I’d visit their residences and get sandwiches from their moms,” Ruffin reminisced. “‘Mr. Lee, how’s it going?’ ‘Miss Phillips, could you please make me a 7-up cake like you used to do back in my childhood? Hi, Mr. King.” Robert from across the street. I would sit there for hours engaging in conversation with him.”
Ruffin was raised in a two-bedroom, one-bathroom house located on West Palm Street, just above West Altadena Street, nestled between Lincoln Avenue and Fair Oaks Avenue, which he later acquired from his parents. Each day, Ruffin faces a multitude of hardships as part of his profession, and he has developed a morning routine of rising early and sitting in his garden, gazing at the San Gabriel Mountains while listening to the birds. In that space, he surrounded himself with plants named after homeless individuals to whom he felt a special connection.
“It was my sanctuary,” he expressed.
From left to right, Anthony Ruffin, Sieglinde von Deffner, and Janet Lowe converse as individuals arrive at Leimert Park Plaza to obtain the coronavirus vaccine.
(Al Seib/Los Angeles Times)
On the early morning of January 8, Ruffin and his spouse, Joni Miller, a dedicated social worker for the homeless community, had to vacate their home without the opportunity to grab any valuables.
A handwritten note that was left behind was penned by Miller’s grandmother on the day of his birth.
The same was true for the damaged mobile phones, seven in total, which held images, contacts, and notes that Ruffin received from hundreds of clients expressing gratitude for their assistance.
Hours later, they discovered that their residence and all its contents had been reduced to ashes, along with a significant portion of their block and nearby area.
“It’s dreadful,” Ruffin conveyed through tears as he attempted to regain composure near the hotel where he and Miller were residing.
Over a dozen years ago, Ruffin and I first crossed paths when he was employed at a nonprofit known as Housing Works Hollywood. He acted as a case manager for my friend Nathaniel Ayers, a Juilliard-trained musician who became known as “The Soloist” during his time of homelessness in Skid Row.
Those of us acquainted with Mr. Ayers have preserved some of his belongings, including various musical instruments. Ruffin mentioned that he has kept Ayers’ drumsticks for many years.
Last week, they were consumed by the flames.
Ruffin’s mentor at Housing Works was Molly Lowery, a revered social worker who also aided Ayers, whose guiding principle in helping clients was one that Ruffin embraced: “Whatever you require, for as long as you need it.”
In 2017, Times photographer Francine Orr and I featured Ruffin in a profile, highlighting his work with the Hollywood 14, a collective of individuals experiencing homelessness and severe disabilities, grappling with significant physical and mental health challenges. His regular clientele included amputees, diabetics, and those battling addiction. “Some are partially paralyzed,” I noted. “Many exist as shadows, their former selves nearly imperceptible amidst the constant burdens of mental illness.”
(Allen J. Scherben/Los Angeles Times)
Ruffin frequently finds himself out on weekends and during the late hours to check on patrons. He crouched on the pavement and gazed into their eyes, escorted them to appointments, visited them in medical facilities, and dedicated himself fervently to earning their trust and providing them with housing.
Ruffin mentioned that his aspiration to become a social worker was largely influenced by his biological father’s battles and experiences with homelessness. He indicated that he wasn’t close to his father until later in life when he served as a legal briefs delivery person in downtown Los Angeles. Ultimately, a late yet “beautiful relationship” blossomed between them, Ruffin remarked, adding that his father carried a briefcase containing a copy of an article about his son, a social worker.
In 1976, Ruffin, along with his mother, Myrtle Williams, settled into a residence in Altadena that was acquired in 1972 by his stepfather, Carl Williams, a truck driver from Texas. Angeles was prohibited to black individuals, while the west side of Altadena provided a sanctuary.
“We played soccer in the streets, we engaged in baseball on the streets, we went to school in the streets,” Ruffin reminisced about his youth.
The house was frequently filled with various relatives who required temporary or extended accommodation, he continued.
“It was a joyful period because there was so much affection in that home, and people merely slept wherever they found a spot,” Ruffin stated. “If you dozed off on the couch in the living room, on the floor, or on your bunk, that’s where you would sleep. There was a space beneath the bunk, so someone was resting there.”
Ruffin shared that it is not unusual for black men from her neighborhood to reach the end of their lives while insisting on passing away at home. He stated they are conscious of racism and housing inequality, struggle to secure jobs that afford them the ability to purchase homes and care for their families, declaring they “have no alternative but to inhabit the residences they constructed.” “I believed I wanted to die.”
(Allen J. Scherben/Los Angeles Times)
After Carl Williams’ retirement, his mother and stepfather opted to relocate to Hesperia instead. However, they aimed to keep the house within the family. Consequently, Mr. Ruffin acquired this residence from them 20 years ago, and to honor all the effort and love his parents invested in this home, he chose to maintain it without altering the floor layout or renovating it. With this objective in mind, he initiated the renovation.
“I worked two jobs to safeguard that property because I was aware of its significance to my family,” Ruffin expressed on Monday, pausing to brush away tears. “We truly improved the house and it appears wonderful.”
Ruffin conveyed that his mother and stepfather, currently aged 76 and 83, are “devastated” by the devastation. The same sentiment affects all the neighbors, who are mournful over the loss of the foothills.
“I communicated with all of them,” Ruffin mentioned. “I spoke with Miss Lee. I conversed with Dr. Douglas, and I couldn’t contain my tears.”
Ruffin and Miller also mourned the loss of two cats and one of their two chickens. In their hurried escape, they managed to rescue a one-eyed cat named Maple, who was once homeless in South LA, as well as a rescue dog, Nan, found as a stray on Skid Row.
On January 13, as their lives had been irrevocably altered and their immediate future appeared unclear, Miller, who, like her husband, is employed on Skid Row for the county health department, returned to work. Ruffin was on vacation, just like any other holiday.
“Today we need to meet with a homeless person and assist them in securing housing,” Ruffin said regarding his Skid Row clients. “I did this on Friday too. Daily I have to provide assistance to someone…I’ve faced my own difficulties, but I consider myself fortunate. Many individuals on Skid Row are struggling with addiction and homelessness.” They are battling and lack some of the resources that I am fortunate enough to possess. For example, I currently have a motel room, and they do not.”
Similar to numerous others who lost their residences in Altadena and the Pacific Palisades, Ruffin is engaged in sorting out insurance matters and temporary living arrangements. Since he remains uncertain about what insurance will cover or the expenses involved in starting anew, he indicated he plans to initiate a GoFundMe page and distribute the funds with his neighbors.
Yet he possesses a clear understanding of what the long-term strategy entails. He aspires to reconstruct in the identical location and dimensions.
“There’s a wealth of history there,” he remarked. “I want precisely the same thing. Nothing more. Nothing less.”