You know, I have evicted, I have evicted a lot of people. I've also been evicted.

I've had to relocate so many times I can't, I'm like, I can't afford this rent anymore.

So what did I do? I worked harder to get more money so I could go move back into that neighbor because I liked my neighborhood.

You wanted a hard way? Well, we'll see. I'm not stupid. I don't speak English well, but I could call the police and tell me,

hey, you know, you should come here. Come and see what's the new owner of this building is doing to all the tenants here.

Well, I can consider myself as homeless because I don't have my own home anymore.

I may stay a week or so here and a week or so there, you know. I have no permanent place to live.

You know, when someone gets displaced from their home, they're just not losing their home.

They're losing their community. They're losing their social network.

And so we're disrupting and tearing apart neighborhoods and communities, which are the backbone

of the city of Los Angeles.

There goes the neighborhood. There goes the neighborhood. There goes the neighborhood.

There goes the neighborhood.

So I'm standing outside this apartment building in Los Angeles.

It's just south of the Hollywood Freeway in north of L.A.'s MacArthur Park.

It was built in the 1920s, and it's like really thousands of other buildings from that era in

Los Angeles. The exterior walls are faded, yellow stucco. I mean, really, really faded.

There are tiles above the door and arched windows. They give it small splashes of Spanish-style charm.

Inside, the hallways dimly lit, and there's a worn wooden staircase leading up to the second floor.

It's all really kind of normal-looking, but a bitter fight has broken out in this apartment building between the new owner and its tenants.

And that's where our story starts.

I'm Saul Gonzalez, and this is There Goes the Neighborhood, L.A.

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