CHAPTER ELEVEN
MINE EYES HAVE SEEN THE GLORY
Make crime pay. Become a Lawyer.
Will Rogers
In March, 2006, Larry and I find Richard K. Rufner Esq. in Denver, Colorado, who’s a malpractice attorney and has been on the Colorado Ethics Committee, which is comforting. He’s also a graduate of Annapolis in Maryland and been a fighter pilot. “This might help,” I think to myself. “I mean a cadet will be thrown out of Annapolis if they show even a breath of dishonesty.” I have first hand experience and knowledge about this after attending a dance at Annapolis when I was a mere thirteen years old.
As we arrive in his office, overseeing the Colorado mountains, we see he’s a large, unassuming man with bright eyes and very professional. He wanted to meet Larry and me in person, suggesting that we bring my documents...not send them to his office. Mr. Rufner practically stands on his desk, in shock, over what Ken has done. He agrees to help me, saying that Mr. Catanzarite has committed almost every ethical violation an attorney could possibly commit…and broken many federal laws. Besides this, we learn there were no statute issues concerning the Sun Valley property, therefore no reason for me to sign Catanzarite’s contract in less than eight hours. We had actually already figured this out and now we’ve found someone who will hold Catanzarite responsible. Mr. Rufner wonders why Ken Catanzarite hasn’t lost his license yet.
Now Rufner says, “This contract is unconscionable and against the law.” Then he turns towards his computer and types in the California State Bar, looking for any previous charges against Catanzarite. He turns back towards Larry and me saying, “I can’t believe it. Catanzarite has never been charged in the past. Well he will be this time! In fact, as soon as the KeyBank case is over or Catanzarite withdraws, I’m filling a malpractice suit against him and turning him into the CalBar.” Mr. Rufner advises that, no matter what happens, I must not fire Ken and if I’m not happy with the settlement Ken is pushing me into with KeyBank, just say, “No.”
Ah…Larry and I have finally found an honest attorney with a brain.
In April, 2006, Larry and I must go to Idaho for mediation with KeyBank. Ken says, “It’s mandatory,” yet he has not submitted one piece of discovery to the court and hasn’t done any depositions. And Judge Winmill, the Idaho Federal Judge, hasn’t ruled yet on KeyBank’s unlawful foreclosure. Even with my lack of knowledge, about the law, I know it’s ridiculous to try and settle without a judge’s order, but Larry and I know we must go…it’s the law.
Between the day we hear about the mediation with KeyBank and the day this will occur, Ken e-mails and calls with, “The mediation has been canceled; you might as well save your money and cancel your dog sitter. In fact you should get rid of those dogs.” I’m incensed about Ken telling me to get rid of my dogs. Yet, by this time Larry and I know better than to believe one word Ken Catanzarite utters. I don’t cancel the hard to obtain “kennel time” for our now six dogs.
The day before the KeyBank mediation, Ken’s daughter, Nicole, also an attorney in his office, in the very first time she’s ever written me in her life, writes an e-mail, “The mediation is on tomorrow and you must be there in Idaho at 10:00 AM sharp.” She doesn’t mention where we should be and ignores my e-mails asking. At this point Larry and I know that Ken Catanzarite has purposely tried to make sure that I would never show up in Idaho. The case would be dismissed and he’ll take both my current Steamboat property and the Sun Valley property.
“For God’s sake, Larry, what do these dishonest attorneys do, sit around their offices all day working on how to maneuver around the laws so they can destroy their own clients?” So far the greatest percentage of attorneys I’ve hired sign on to represent me, and instead protect the perpetrators. But we beat Ken at his own game, and jump into the car, driving ten hours to Boise, Idaho, while I call Ken on the hour every hour. Apparently, he is indisposed for the first time since I’d hired him…he just can’t get to his pocket for the cell phone on time to answer.
At 10:00 AM the next day, Larry and I still have no idea where the KeyBank mediation will be held, so we guess. We show up at John Ward’s Law Firm, about an hour late, but this is just because Ken finally called saying his plane had been delayed. He still wouldn’t tell me where the mediation would be. KeyBank wants to just give me back my Sun Valley house for twelve months, allowing me to sell it again, while Ken’s hand picked, retired judge of over eighty years old from Oregon, oversees this pathetic mediation. I will receive no cash.
The judge/mediator is so old he can barely speak; he admits he doesn’t know a thing about the case, admitting also he’s not familiar with Idaho law as his hands shake from obvious Parkinson’s Disease. Outrageous, and still more so since I have no money, which McDonald and KeyBank have taken through federal crimes committed against me. Ken will have to take over the care and ownership of the Sun Valley property. In his contract he put a lien on it, so now I’ve figured out for sure what his intent has been all along.
Ken will end up owning my Sun Valley property, as he claims that I owe him three hundred and fifty thousand dollars in costs already, over and above his fifty percent unconscionable contingency fee... I get nothing. Not to mention, with the black cloud KeyBank has created over my property at this point, I’d have to give it away to any potential buyer. Yet, I have proof that McDonald forged my signature, that KeyBank disregarded my trust, suspect they misappropriated my monthly payments on the small loan to a phantom account so they could claim I was in default when I wasn’t, and kept me from selling the house by telling lenders my home was overvalued. To add insult to injury, you don’t give commercial loans on residential property. This too is against the law.
Additionally, I had watched Ken have an unfamiliar-with-Sun Valley real estate appraiser (had never been to Sun Valley in his life) re-appraise my property by excluding one thousand square feet from it’s size so he could claim it wasn’t worth what my trusted professional appraiser, familiar-with-Sun Valley, deemed to be true just a couple of months earlier. This was quite obvious when Larry and I checked out the new appraisal, which we brought to Ken’s attention and he ignored. I also know there’s more crime flourishing about but Mr. Catanzarite keeps facts from me and refuses to submit anything proving my case to the courts, thereby controlling how the suit progresses.
I say “No” to KeyBank’s offer.
Ken says, “You’ve had many years enjoying your homes and great wealth. Why not just be happy with what you’ve had and get over it?” Okay… I’d be arrested for what I was about to say at this point, so I didn’t.
But, I’m now very aware of why Ken had the Sun Valley appraisal corruptly adjusted; he must have worked for hours figuring out how to lower the value of my property? Or maybe he’s an old hand? I’d opt for the old hand. With the lower value Ken could claim the equity left in this property was just about what I’d owe him for his bogus costs for destroying my life further. Then walla, he’d take my Sun Valley property for his payment.
A week later Judge Winmill, of the Pocatello, Idaho, Federal Court grants me a partial Summary Judgment for an unlawful foreclosure. Ken had the proof to get me a full Summary Judgment in his hot little briefcase. He purposely didn’t submit it to the court. Or, Judge Winmill and Ken colluded together to exclude this proof. Who the hell knows? The full Summary Judgment would have forced KeyBank to pay me cash and give me my home back permanently. After all, at this point, although the fraudulent bank proof has been kept from me, I’m very positive that KeyBank had been taking my payments on the small line of credit and claiming these payments were never made. Why else would they refuse to give me my account statements? Not to mention, it’s also against the federal laws to foreclose non-judicially on a trust owned property, and never can a bank foreclose on property using a personal loan. And, commercial loans are not given on residential property. Yet so far, this is what KeyBank has done, while Ken Catanzarite belittles me and continues to withhold evidence from the judge. John Ward, KeyBank’s permanent counsel, has reaped the nickname, “Skeletor.” I think I know why. And, no one can tell me that someone isn’t paying someone off.
Over the next couple of weeks, Mr. Catanzarite tries to force me to take KeyBank’s deal. When I refuse, he threatens to withdraw which is about the tenth time. This threat becomes a reality on May 15, 2006, and at the same time I realize Ken has destroyed my case in Michigan as well by withholding all the Paine Webber account statements, so the judge dismissed this case. Ken writes an e-mail to me along with his withdrawal. “I have subpoenaed the account statements from Paine Webber in another Michigan Court, but the documents have not been served on anyone. I suggest you hire another attorney to serve the defendants soon or you’ll lose your statutes.”
“How convenient,” I think to myself. I have no idea what this other Michigan court is.
Now I have at least figured out why the law lenders had been turning me down.
Deborah Clare Breuner Davis
1949-
For many months I interview new lawyers for the KeyBank suit. Mr. Rufner only says that I must settle the KeyBank case before he can file a malpractice suit against Ken. He assures me I still have six years to file again in Michigan for my trust. Finally, I find White Peterson Law firm in Nampa, Idaho, in late May, 2006. Larry and I must sell our red truck over two days’ time by running around to Steamboat car dealerships, basically begging them to buy it so that we can get the money to even meet with the lawyers.
After Kevin Dinius of White Peterson goes through all the documents, he and his team of lawyers decide to take on the KeyBank case. During their research, they uncover the news that someone in my family held back funds that belonged to me from the sale of the Diamond K Ranch, my mother’s property. Now I’m putting all the pieces of my life together, yet it takes me another full month before I can digest the fact that not only was Sonard (Gerard, my brother-in-law) involved with this but perhaps Winnie and Jennie too.
Justice Anthony “Tony” M. Kennedy Esq. was the attorney that oversaw Sonard and Shitty’s interests after my parents died, as well as mine, and he was my first divorce attorney who advised that I create a trust to protect my assets. With his background, education and financial expertise, my trust should never have been embezzled – unless he’s at the bottom of the theft.
Happily, Larry and I return to Steamboat feeling like we have finally found the help we need all around. I just have to find counsel in Michigan to file the correct suit for my trust. Ken lost the statutes on purpose for opening my divorce but he didn’t even approach the trust issue or Paine Webber, and I have six years to file for fraud. I still have time. So Larry and I spend our days on the phone again looking for a good trust litigator in Detroit. We have no money whatsoever and are selling whatever we have that will create cash. Our business has been destroyed.
Larry borrows twenty-five hundred dollars from his attorney friend Harry Burgess. We can’t find employment, mostly because of what KeyBank has unlawfully done to our credit, amongst other challenges such as lack of experience, age, and always having our own business. And, we don’t have the resources to get the Deborah Breuner Ltd started again so we work towards something smaller, creating funny t-shirts. The vender in Steamboat, after promises of having prototypes done in a month, instead takes close to a year and we run out of cash again. We had no choice other than to wait for him, as we couldn’t afford to handle this in any far away place. We wouldn’t be able to pay for the gas to get there three times a week. No, I don’t believe our vender is in collusion with the bank; he’s just an idiot.
But now we must put our efforts into finding buyers for my diamonds, skis, Larry’s tools and truck. Finally one day, Kevin Dinius announces that I must be at a deposition in Denver with KeyBank, yet he too has done neither depositions nor discovery on my behalf. Larry and I again have no money so we must get up at 2:00 AM for two days in order to drive to Denver (three hours) and back each day as we appear at the KeyBank depositions. We sell most of our music CD’s at a local pawnshop to get cash for the gas.
During KeyBank’s deposition, John “Skeletor” Ward asks, “Ms. Davis do you live by a budget? It seems you’ve been spending beyond your means.”
Now I’m furious but calmly answer, “Well gee, I haven’t seen my own account statements for anything concerning KeyBank/McDonald or Paine Webber in years, while your clients were stealing money out of my account to the tune of hundreds of thousands of dollars, so how would I be able to even see what was going on with my finances?”
Skeletor arrogantly laughs like a hyena and says, “Well you dropped McDonald. They aren’t part of this suit…remember?”
I wanted to say, “Shut the f—k up!” But, I didn’t. I was also beginning to learn, but not totally understand, that the real reason Ken dropped McDonald from the case was because they have a fiduciary duty to me, which would cause KeyBank to have one to me as well, but without them, KeyBank wouldn’t have one unless they committed a crime, which of course I knew they had…many in fact.
Meanwhile, I’m also hearing through the grapevine of attorney garble in the room that, by law, banks have no fiduciary duty to their customers, which, in my mind, allows them the ability to commit any kind of financial crime they choose…unless it can be proven. So far it appears my own counsel is making sure this won’t happen. It’s shocking me. Then Skeletor says, “What’s happened to your family through all this?”
I merely respond, “Well they seem to be part of the mess so I have no relationship with any of them.”
Skeletor comes back with “Jackpot” sparkling from his eyes and says, “R-e-a-l-l-y?” Suddenly I realized I’d just stuck my foot in my mouth.
Kevin makes promises as to what he’ll be doing next to help me, via cell phone, such as holding Catanzarite responsible for everything, while Larry and I drive back to Steamboat each night. But after KeyBank’s deposition, over six weeks go by before I hear from Kevin again. He doesn’t supply me with the transcripts from the deposition as he promised, and refuses to return my frantic calls asking about what is going on.
Rick Rufner, in the meantime, has signed a contract with me and filed a Declaratory Action against Ken in the Routt County Court in Steamboat Springs concerning my property, the crimes he’s committed, and his unethical contract. I also contact my brother-in law, Sonard, for the second time to get Justice Anthony “Tony” M. Kennedy’s contact information so I can get my file from him. Sonard refuses to give me this information saying, “You’re not allowed to talk to him, because he’s a sitting Supreme Court Justice.” Of course I don’t believe this response. But what can I do? I’m just left still more convinced that my whole family is involved with my financial demise.
In October, 2006, on a Thursday afternoon Kevin shocks me out of my mind by calling with a settlement offer. KeyBank wants all this over, but again I get basically nothing. Yet, this time they have offered five hundred thousand dollars and they keep my now three million-dollar Sun Valley property. What has been lost between KeyBank/McDonald is close to ten million dollars of my assets. When you include Larry’s and my business, it’s still more. But I agree to this settlement out of pure exhaustion. I trust Ken Catanzarite will eventually be held responsible for all my damage and Larry’s too.
Kevin still has done no discovery or depositions; he doesn’t have Ken Catanzarite’s file, I’m told. Mr. Catanzarite is holding his file ransom…another ethical violation. It’s been six months since I hired Kevin. The very next day, Kevin withdraws from representing me via e-mail. There’s no mention of the settlement. I’m just at the end of my rope. I believe KeyBank is paying these lawyers off to keep my suit worthless, or Ken is, and I don’t have the full scope as to what Ken didn’t do on my case. Yet I’m confident that he should be in prison for what I do know, along with many KeyBank/McDonald executives.
I see Kevin is following Catanzarite’s plan. I write the lead attorneys in Kevin’s law firm, complaining about his actions, which are ignored. I even write Judge Winmill, not expecting an answer of course, just informing him. Again, Larry and I are back on the phone, looking for lawyers while I represent myself in the Pocatello, Idaho, Federal Court for God knows how long, trying to figure out what I can file in order to keep my case alive. Larry and I are checking out books from the local library trying to understand the law...becoming lawyers with no degree.
Kevin Dinius lies to Judge Winmill about serving me notarized documents of his withdrawal. He didn’t, and what’s more, he indicates to the court in writing that I had moved over a month earlier, and he couldn’t find out where I was to inform me to pick up these withdrawal documents from the post office in Steamboat. This is outrageous, since neither Larry nor I have the money to do anything but wait at home for justice and care for our precious family of dogs.
Our biggest trips of the day are to the grocery store and mailbox. We certainly haven’t been out of town or moved. I’m astounded by the dishonesty amidst the legal world. I’m feeling like I should have known by the way Kevin Dinius acted during depositions.
Yet, I’ve also learned by now that firing an attorney merely creates more legal problems, which inevitably becomes my problem and will cost me money, which I don’t have.
Deborah Clare Breuner Davis
1949-
The short, heavy, little bulldog looking jerk would barely address my presence for two days during KeyBank depositions, and certainly never spoke in my defense nor advised me. Instead, he spent the two days arrogantly gazing at his laptop screen saver, which sported his own photograph skydiving. He appeared to be in great distress, which I didn’t understand back then nor do I have anything more than clues now. But, I don’t have time to worry about any of this; I must find still another new law firm. I have lost almost all the discovery time and the judge won’t grant me more while I’m within days of having the KeyBank case dismissed.
And, I wouldn’t have even known to do this if I hadn’t called the friend of the court, who told me my case was going to be dismissed if I didn’t either sign, in pro per, or find new counsel. Kevin had already gotten the judge to wave my signature for his withdrawal, which I wasn’t aware of until now. I had no choice but to become pro per until I found a new law firm.
In the meantime, I call the expert witness that Balamuth Law Firm had hired, Steven I. Fried of Capital Finance, to evaluate Mr. Catanzarite’s crimes and ethical violations. I thought he could recommend to me what I should file in the Pocatello, Idaho, Federal Court next. He is extremely helpful. I then turned Kevin Dinius into the Idaho State Bar, by filing a complaint against him for lying to the court about me and not doing a thing on my case. Go on; just ask me what the Idaho State Bar did!
Absolutely nothing.
Meanwhile, Larry and I have figured out how to file a motion with the court for KeyBank in-house documents. A few weeks later I receive a letter from John “Skelator” Ward, refusing to supply most of what I’ve subpoenaed, claiming the discovery time deadline is too short to supply these, which is a complete lie. I still had a month of discovery time left. However, I do receive computer disks displaying many in-house letters between the KeyBank executives which read, “Ms. Davis’ property is owned by her trust. Please adjust the loan documents to reflect this.” Then there’d be another letter saying, “No, the property belongs to her personally.” I stared down upon the original loan documents clearly showing the bridge loan was given to my trust and a copy of my trust indicating my home is owned by this trust. Now I can see I had still more ammunition against KeyBank, because I now have their own proof to what they have done.
I remember wondering why KeyBank would blatantly send to me such viable proof of their fraud against me. It didn’t make sense. Why would they purposely, in writing, show how inept or criminal they were and are?
Deborah Clare Breuner Davis
1949-
Eventually I call Huntley Park Law Firm in Boise, Idaho. The one law firm I’d missed earlier in this legal journey that didn’t represent KeyBank. Interestingly though, I had called them a few years back and the secretary claimed they had a conflict. As it turns out this wasn’t true…they merely had a business account with KeyBank. Bill Thomas has been a president and counsel for a bank. He and his partner, Dan Williams, know how to read the fine print on bank documents. They tell me most lawyers don’t even attempt to understand these contracts. But, they can and will help me. I have no idea what they look like...there are no photographs on their website. I have no way to access their eyes to see whether they’re honest...not that I’ve been very good at this so far.
The first phone call I have with Bill Thomas he says to me, “I’m fairly sympathetic to your situation but I take pause when I see so many attorney withdrawals.”
“Oh my God.” This remark outrageous me, because I know all these withdrawals involve plain old unethical behavior and crime. At any other time I probably would have said, “Thank you for your time but I’ll keep looking.” However, I just let the remark go. I’m desperate and sense Bill’s firm will help me, which they do but not without warning me concerning the facts. They think Ken has destroyed my case, but they will do whatever they can to save it by filing another suit in Blaine County, Idaho, Court to gain back discovery, re-introducing proof that Ken withheld.
While Bill and Dan work on my behalf, Ken Catanzarite demands that I go to arbitration in California with him over his contract, which the Routt County Court allows before they can rule. After all, in spite of Ken’s unconscionable terms, he has an arbitration clause. Larry and I must sell more of our belongings in order to get to California. We have to borrow money as well in order to pay Rick Rufner a thousand dollars to represent me at arbitration.
On the first morning of arbitration Larry and I pick up Mr. Rufner at his hotel; stop to eat breakfast together, and go on to the first planned event of the next two days… Mr. Catanzarite’s arbitrational lies of the century, as we listen to his words, show he is unbelievably unethical besides being a criminal. Mr. Rufner asked Ken three times, “Do you think you have a fiduciary duty to your client?”
Ken answers, “No.”
We learn that Mr. Catanzarite actually forged my signature on a buy/sell agreement with his bank, Washington Mutual, March 10, 2005.
Why? Because he wanted it to appear that he purchased my home before he signed on as my attorney, relieving himself of a serious ethical violation. By the way, it’s absolutely prohibited by the California Professional Rules of Conduct that an attorney purchase a client’s home out of foreclosure. Of course, Larry and I had to spend weeks learning all this through our own efforts and investigation. By this time we knew where to find what law on what page in the law books.
We’ve also realized McDonald Investments being dropped from the suit did not hold KeyBank responsible for the forgeries and pillaging of my account. Bill Thomas had informed me of this. In fact now McDonald was getting away with their crimes, and Mr. Catanzarite made sure they would by dropping them from the suit, leaving KeyBank only responsible for an unlawful foreclosure. So now we knew Ken lied about this legal action too.
Deborah Clare Breuner Davis
1949-
Of course, I had proof that Ken purchased my home at the exact time he signed on as my attorney. When Mr. Rufner asks Ken why he didn’t open my divorce in Michigan, as he signed on to do, Ken replies, “Because John Schaefer said I couldn’t, and besides Ms. Davis would have only received three million dollars in a suit such as this.” As if three million dollars was worth nothing?
Of course this is the first time I’ve heard this evaluation or excuse. I’m stunned and angry at the same time, while I sit there reminded that I’m now penniless. I actually get a laugh when Mr. Rufner responds with, “Well isn’t that sort of like the fox guarding the hen house?”
Larry then goes out to our Jeep in the parking lot to retrieve an e-mail Ken sent me before he purchased my house, where he solicits to buy my property, which makes his actions still more unconscionable. Mr. Catanzarite has been claiming I asked him if he would take the house over, rather than the truth, which is he advised that he purchase my home to protect it until my suits were complete. When Ken sees that I have proof of something that contradicts his claim, he thinks for a minute then responds with, “Well that particular e -mail must have been dropped from my computer. I don’t have that.”
Of course he doesn’t. What a complete ass. I feel like I’m in kindergarten with snotty nosed children…not elite attorneys. Ken continues to defend himself relative to why he gave me less than eight hours on a Sunday to sign his contract, not allowing time to have another law firm look at his outrageous terms...another ethical violation. He lies some more about how I had a bankruptcy attorney hired, yet he knows I merely consulted one – couldn’t hire him without money.
Soon I can see that the factual mistakes Ken printed in his contract about me where done on purpose, not because he didn’t know me well. He’s using these skewed facts to cover his unlawful acts. However we have documents and e- mails proving Ken is a crook.
To Mr. Catanzarite’s left sits Mr. Broker, a bankruptcy attorney he has brought with him as his “expert witness” to offer reasons why I wasn’t guided into bankruptcy as I should have been. By the way, Mr. Broker first admits he’s never acted as an expert witness in his life other than for Catanzarite Law Corporation. He’s submitting a detailed document he claims he’s written, showing that filing Chapter 11 would not have been my best option. Knowing this too is untrue, Mr. Rufner finally gets Mr. Broker to admit that Ken wrote the ten page chronicle, which Mr. Broker merely signed, not understanding what was actually the truth or the facts.
The biggest surprise is when Ken gets Scott Campbell on the phone to testify on his behalf. I can’t even believe this, but Rick Rufner, as my true hero, refuses to address any questions to him. He just asks, “Is your name Scott Campbell?”
Scott answers, “Yes.”
Rick then says, “Thank you, I have no more questions.”
Scott responds with, “What? You don’t have anything to ask me?”
Rick merely replies, “No, thank you.”
By the time I leave arbitration, all of us feel that the arbitrator is disgusted with Ken – he will rule on our side.
Our arbitrator, Mr. Merring, weighs easily over seven hundred pounds and for two days eats donuts, every hour on the hour, through the whole process of testimony. I wonder if he ever heard a word spoken from anyone. He did comment on what he seemed to ingest, when the subject of signing my contract on a Sunday came up, by responding with, “I don’t know about you lawyers, but I don’t work on Sunday,” then goes back to stuffing his fat face with pastry.
Personally I think Mr. Merring needs a round in Dr. Phil’s House, or a show directed especially for him on Oprah, while he’s lying in bed, surrounded by a crane. Mr. Merring is not professional.
I remember thinking, during the mediation, perhaps if I wrote Oprah or Dr. Phil about Mr. Merring’s weight, claiming I was a worried friend, then they’d have me on their show and I could spout out all the illegal crap happening to me.
Deborah Clare Breuner Davis
1949-
I can’t help but notice that every time Mr. Merring would get up and walk across the room, donut crumbs fall from the seat of his pants. There are more crumbs attached to his suit lapel. I watch him barely be able to get around chairs snuggled up close to the conference table. I can’t even imagine where he’d find any clothes to fit his rotund body. He makes me sick, while he has my whole life in his hands.
Larry and I return to Steamboat after having to borrow money from my friend, Janey Meade, and selling my diamond necklace in Hollywood. On our way, we stop in Idaho to meet Bill and Dan from Huntley Park Law Firm in person. We meet with them in their office on Saturday, so there are few other partners from the firm around.
Bill is short, with fine sandy colored longish hair, which appears to be a toupee secured by thin wires attached to his inner ears. He’s wearing jeans and cowboy boots, probably over fifty years old. He seems nice enough though not at all as I pictured him. He plays no games with the truth, which I like, but it’s also scary to hear about what might be facts I must accept. Yet, he laughs joyfully once in a while so I sense he’s a nice man. Dan pops in late, after taking his son to baseball practice, so I feel he’s at least a good dad. He too is wearing jeans, being tall, dark haired and sporting a gray/charcoal close-cropped beard. Actually he appears much younger than Bill, but I know he’s not. They aren’t encouraged at all with the news about arbitration, saying, “You just never know about these things. Sometimes arbitrators have a bad day and rule unfairly.”
Yet, they describe what they’re doing to help me, which is promising in a weird sort of way. I don’t know at this point if what they’re attempting to do is really going to work or not. They spend most of the time saying, “If the judge rules like this, then you’ll end up like that.” I’m frustrated that my suit just can’t fix what is outrageously against the law.
I still didn’t know if Ken was paid off by KeyBank to withhold evidence or if Mr. Catanzarite merely had his own agenda. I didn’t understand why Kevin Dinius dropped the ball after Ken. Was he too paid off? I knew with the laws that had been broken, all these entities should be in prison.
Deborah Clare Breuner Davis
1949-
Bill and Dan don’t seem to be concerned about what Ken and Kevin have or have not done, only with what they will hopefully accomplish now.
When Larry and I finally return to our home around midnight on Monday, we find that the electricity has been turned off and the house is as cold as ice. The electric company claims we haven’t paid the bill, which is possible…we haven’t had money in months but Larry says, “It’s been paid.” Around 1:00 AM we are able to get the electricity turned back on after paying cash to a driver who shows up to take payment. And, by the way, the bill had been paid. The electric company just wanted a retainer because they had become aware of what was happening to us.
The next day I find that though there is ten thousand dollars in the account at Alpine Bank in town, they have returned our checks just because of the bad credit Larry and I have, caused by what KeyBank did unlawfully. They have known about this for a year and have a letter from my attorney explaining the issue. Still an Alpine manager merely says, “We periodically go back and check credit; yours has not improved. We’ll draw up a check for you to pick up. We don’t want you in our bank.”
“Of course my credit hasn’t improved! The KeyBank case is still ongoing,” I say. But this is of no importance at all, I can see. I’m astounded that a bank would return checks that are covered with funds. What’s worse, they didn’t even tell us, and wouldn’t have if I hadn’t called them after a check bounced.
Now neither Larry nor I can open a bank account anywhere. Our credit has worsened, of course. We’re forced to pay cash for whatever we purchase or on bills we have. Things are getting tougher for us which doesn’t make sense...we are not the criminals here! But nothing can be done until my suits are resolved or we can somehow create another smaller business or get jobs. We also realize that it takes a standard seven years for one’s horrible credit to cease being an issue, while after seven years one wouldn’t have an employment history, because they couldn’t get hired by any company who checks credit. Our situation has become grave.
As we wait for the arbitrator’s ruling, now the middle of February, 2007, we can’t afford to buy propane to heat our home nor food to feed our dogs or ourselves. The water softener no longer works and we can’t get it fixed...no money. Because of the sulfur in the water around Steamboat Springs, having a water softener is the only way most residents can live. We have to exist without, as our skin itches and all our china turns white with residue. The dishwashers are encrusted with sulfur as well. We have stopped our cable and shut off the phones. The neighbors, who use to be called friends as they partied in our home, drinking and eating gourmet spreads, no longer speak to us.
We have one friend left, Rich Voldness, who has offered to lend us some money, which we gratefully accept, promising to pay him back as soon as we can.
And, now this is difficult to admit, but I will, because though it was wrong on Larry’s and my part, it also shows how outrageous at least KeyBank is. I can only assume, with what’s going on in the United States today, all banks are just as crooked and idiotic. An advertisement came in our mail, addressed to me from KeyBank, offering a ten thousand dollar line-of-credit…no questions asked. I couldn’t believe my eyes. You would think with what KeyBank had done and was still doing to me, I would be out of their system for such an offer.
Well Larry and I didn’t have a dime, so I signed up, expecting that I certainly would be turned down. But who cares, we had nothing to lose for trying, except if I should ever be forced into depositions with them again, it might be brought up. But, who cares? KeyBank has criminally cost me close to ten million dollars in damage.
My attitude at this point is that KeyBank owes me, which is an example of what crimes such as what KeyBank has committed against me, and now Larry, creates in the normal consumer’s mind…a circle of crime. They want to retaliate, of course, especially when they can’t even hire an attorney to help them because the attorney is obviously being paid under the table by KeyBank to protect them…outrageous.
Two weeks later I had a loan from KeyBank, which came in handy for a short time…we could pay some bills. It’s difficult to live in a multi-million dollar home without huge amounts of cash to keep it going, and in the dead of winter in Colorado there wasn’t much chance of selling the place.
I’m still, to this day, amazed that I would qualify for a loan, under a lawsuit, with KeyBank…I’m left speechless.
Deborah Clare Breuner Davis
1949-
Mr. Catanzarite has, since he bought my home, become a respected member of the Sleeping Giant Estates Homeowners Association, so along with all the ethical violations and crimes he’s committed, we figure he’s destroyed Larry’s and my reputation in our neighborhood. It would at least be worth looking into by interviewing our neighbors. I write Mr. Rufner with this suggestion and assume he takes notice. I know he’s in the midst of obtaining loan documents from the Steamboat Springs Title Company concerning the loan Ken took out to buy my home…there’s lots of proof of Ken’s crimes.
