August 20, 2001

“CCP §664.6.
If parties to pending litigation stipulate, in a writing signed by the parties outside the presence of the court or orally before the court, for settlement of the case, or part thereof, the court, upon motion, may enter judgment pursuant to the terms of the settlement. If requested by the parties, the court may retain jurisdiction over the parties to enforce the settlement until performance in full of the terms of the settlement.”

I chased Judge Gold down to the Long Beach courthouse where he had been assigned to sit (read My Essay to L.A. Daily Journal), to beg him not to evict me, and to show evidence that Lynn had made a generous offer to me to keep my home, but that her attorney was not following through, and that Lynn was filming in England, and that Judge Gold said he would recall her if necessary, and the case could end here and now. I believe that Lynn made a sincere offer to me, evidenced by her attorney’s email which I provided to the court.
Everything could have been resolved.
I could have stayed in my home, I could have formed a new living working out of my studio on the property, I could have completed ownership of the Entrada cottage in the trust I had started for little Zachary, while sharing custody of him in my house up the road with the swimming pool and tennis court which we both made full use of, and continued his violin and piano lessons in my living room.
Judge Gold ignored me and my Pleading, which was a heart-felt pleading indeed.
He had up his sleeve that I should pay for the attorney costs of the trial and the time of the court, not Lynn the celebrity, and the only easy way to do this was to force me out by standing in my shoes and signing away my beautiful home to get his hands on the escrow, out of which money could be freely taken without even notice or copies to me, according to the law.
And that’s what he did.
Ultimately, I lost my home (just after 9/11), and Zach lost his home, also his father (who by now had a prison record); I lost my New York apartment to Lynn – who doesn’t need it exclusively, she lives in Connecticut with our children, estranged from me because they don’t understand – I lost my wealth, much of my possessions, my history; I lost my friends, my Topanga neighborhood, my reputation. The American dream. Gone.
To read the story of the breakup of his own marriage in 1968 and to compare the details with what he did to me, is striking. Was he perhaps punishing himself?
Read my Brief.
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