Marcie

I’ve lost nearly everything — my home, my belongings, and my husband. The life I built was taken from me piece by piece until there was nothing left but the ache of loss and the quiet question of “why.” Somewhere along the way, I lost my faith in humanity too. People I trusted turned away when I needed them most, and the very systems meant to protect us failed us completely. I’m 50 years old and disabled, though the state insists otherwise. When my husband passed, I wasn’t even granted survivor’s benefits — I was left with nothing. My business was stolen from me, and what I thought was a decent attorney turned out to be yet another betrayal. After a quiet payoff, my 78-year-old blind mother and I were left out in the cold once more — literally and figuratively. My husband’s death was the breaking point. At 70 years old, he endured unbearable physical stress and illness caused by toxic mold in a home we rented in South Austin, Texas. The conditions and the endless pressure on his body were more than anyone could bear. The people responsible for it all — without a trace of remorse — left us homeless, denying us even the medical care, medications, and devices we needed to survive. We believed the law would protect the elderly and disabled. We were wrong. They picked through our antiques, our collectibles, our family heirlooms — everything we worked for. Every piece of our past was sold off, and I now know it wasn’t random. It was calculated. A home invasion disguised as legality — and the law helped them do it. The person behind it has made millions selling my belongings and now runs a “nonprofit” that teaches others how to do the same to innocent people right here in Austin. He even paid off the attorney who was supposed to fight for us. My faith in humanity has been shattered to its core. All that’s left now is my mother and me — two women trying to survive in a cold, empty space, sleeping on concrete floors and praying for safety, for warmth, for just one person who still has a heart. We’re not looking for a handout. We’re looking for justice. For a genuine, good-hearted attorney who specializes in legal malpractice or wrongful death — someone who sees what’s happened for what it truly is: cruel, deliberate, and deeply wrong. We need help, and we need it fast.