The Brief

Today is officially the last day as a county employee for L.A. County CEO Fesia Davenport, who has been on medical leave for the past six months and received a controversial $2 million taxpayer payout that LAist brought to light last fall.

Davenport announced her planned departure last month, citing health concerns. While on leave, she has faced criticism from the public and county employees over the payout, as well as a lawsuit alleging it was an illegal gift that must be reversed. The payout was labeled “confidential” and kept secret from the public until LAist unearthed it two months later, even though state law requires settlement agreements to be public.

When announcing her plan to step down, Davenport said in a LinkedIn post last month she was doing so “to focus on my health and wellness.” She also emailed CEO office staff to say she’s learned she has a predisposition for the same type of health problem that killed her brother Raymond in 2018 and that two of her sisters experienced last year. One of her sisters will require 24-hour care for the rest of her life, Davenport wrote.

The $2 million payout, approved in secret by county supervisors, was in response to Davenport claiming she was harmed by a voter-approved measure that will change her job into an elected one in December 2028, almost two years after her employment contract was set to expire in early 2027.

The supervisors agreed to pay Davenport the $2 million she had requested, without negotiating her down from that amount. As part of receiving the taxpayer payout, the settlement deal says Davenport cannot make — nor cause anyone else to make — “negative statements or communications disparaging” the Board of Supervisors and other county officials. There are exceptions, including for required testimony and disclosing workplace conduct she believes is unlawful.

The $2 million payout was in addition to Davenport’s county salary of $630,813 in annual base pay.

Leaders of the two largest L.A. County employee unions — representing nurses, social workers, sheriff’s deputies and others — said many of their members were shocked and outraged to learn about the payout from LAist’s reporting. They said Davenport had been telling workers there was no money to give them raises, while secretly negotiating a $2 million payout for herself.

A lawsuit filed by a county resident and taxpayer in February claims the payout was illegal because Davenport did not have a valid legal dispute with the county. Under the state Constitution, local government settlement payouts are illegal gifts of public funds if they’re in response to allegations that completely lack legal merit or exceed the agency’s “maximum exposure,” according to court rulings.

If a judge finds a payment was an illegal gift, they can order the money to be paid back. County lawyers are disputing the case, saying the payout served a legitimate public purpose.

The judge assigned to the lawsuit, James C. Chalfant of L.A. County Superior Court, is retiring at the beginning of next month, before the first scheduled hearing in the case. Online court records do not yet indicate which judge will take over the case.

Last month, county supervisors ordered new transparency measures in response to LAist revealing the payout. The county will now create a public dashboard of settlements between the county and its executives, and make sure all such settlements are reported to the public on meeting agendas after they’re finalized.

Ever since Davenport suddenly went on leave Oct. 8, her CEO role has been filled temporarily by Joe Nicchitta, the county’s chief operating officer.

The county CEO oversees the roughly $50 billion county budget, labor relations with over 100,000 county employees and implementing key priorities of the county Board of Supervisors — including poverty alleviation and addressing homelessness.

County supervisors, who oversee the CEO, will be in charge of selecting a permanent chief executive.

For the last three years, the record store and music venue Healing Force of the Universe has been operating on a sleepy street corner not far from Pasadena City College. Nearby businesses include a shoe repair store, a nail salon and several auto shops.

“We're kind of in a dead corner,” owner Austin Manuel said. “No offense if anybody lives here, but not a very foot-trafficked area, kind of a hard place to have a store.”

In spite of the location, Manuel said Healing Force has become a home away from home for musicians and music fans. One of them is Bobby Bradford, a jazz trumpet legend who lost his house and personal archive in the Eaton Fire. He performs regularly at the venue. (Healing Force has also partnered with LAist on fire recovery events.)

Its current location is set to close this month, but Manuel and his team are already raising funds to cover a move to another space: G-Son Studios in Atwater Village. The repurposed ballroom was the Beastie Boys' home base when they recorded their classic albums Check Your Head and Ill Communication. Run-DMC and Biz Markie stopped by at one point, and Beck also laid down tracks for his album Odelay there.

Inside Healing Force's space in Pasadena.

(

Kevin Tidmarsh/LAist

)

The vibe

Healing Force sells records, of course, but these days it’s more of a nighttime performance space. Manuel said he wants people to feel comfortable striking up conversations after a show.

“I grew up in the church in the South, and I was like, ‘How do I design this so that it feels like a Southern church lady could come in here and feel welcome?’" Manuel said. “ I didn't want it to be too cool.  I wanted it to feel kind of suburban in a way.”

(

Kevin Tidmarsh/LAist

)

(

Kevin Tidmarsh/LAist

)

(

Kevin Tidmarsh/LAist

)

Though the name might call to mind a cult slogan — and Manuel said they lean into that aesthetic on purpose — it’s actually a reference to the 1970 album Music Is the Healing Force of the Universe by saxophonist Albert Ayler.

At the venue, “people can kind of get … into a meditative zone,” Manuel said. “After the [January 2025] fires, it felt so good to come back together in this room and feel the healing of community.”

Healing Force's stage setup.

(

Kevin Tidmarsh/LAist

)

The performances

The shows Healing Force puts on share a common thread: They’re meant to promote peace and relaxation, as well as deep, careful listening on the hi-fi sound system. But they’re an eclectic mix of genres. On one night, you might see L.A. spiritual jazz band Phi-Psonics, who turned a residency at the venue into a live album, Expanding to One.

On another night, you might catch a spaced-out electronic set, an up-and-coming singer-songwriter or a group of session musicians who’ve played with the likes of Paul Simon, Elton John and Lucinda Williams.

About the fundraiser

With the new space on Glendale Boulevard, Manuel said, Healing Force would triple its capacity for concerts, get a bar space and be closer to other venues in Northeast L.A.

“If 1,000 people gave $25, we would get there,” Manuel said – though he also said most people have been giving more.

You can read more about the fundraiser and donate at Healing Force’s GoFundMe.

See the Pasadena space before it closes

The venue is still open at 1200 E. Walnut Street and is holding events through this Halloween weekend. You can see their events calendar on their website.

The racist DNA of Jim Crow discrimination may be embedded in your housing documents.

The language in housing documents that restricts sale or use of a property only to a person of the white race is called a “restrictive covenant,” and in California the practice goes back to the 19th century and continued into the mid-20th century. While housing discrimination persists, the practice was found unconstitutional in 1948.

California counties are reporting mixed progress in meeting the demands of a 2021 law to excise the language from property records.

According to Sylvia Manzo, deputy recorder in the Orange County Clerk-Recorder’s office, the county finished the job in March of this year, removing racist language from more than 27,000 property documents with the help of computer software.

This 1924 property document from Bakersfield includes racist language limiting use of the property in question to people of "the white or Caucasian race."

(

Screenshot from CSU Bakersfield

)

L.A. County is far from done. It says that with the help of an outside company hired in 2024, 50 million pages will be examined yearly, which would take about 10 years to finish the job.

Public agencies could use the public’s help.

Language examples

Here’s a 1924 example from a property in Bakersfield. The text reads, “That the lands herein conveyed shall never, at any time, be sold to or rented to or occupied by any person not of the white or Caucasian race.”

Or this language from a 1936 document relating to a Costa Mesa property: “That said premises shall not be sold, conveyed, rented, or leased to, or occupied by any person of African, Mexican, or Asiatic descent.”

How to get it taken out

The Restrictive Covenant Modification Form is at the heart of the effort to remove the racist language from housing documents. Each county has its own process. Some charge a fee; others don’t. Some require a notary certification for the signature; others don’t.

L.A. County:

Registrar-Recorder officials recommend these steps:

• Highlight or underline the unlawful provision on the recorded document
• Complete the Restrictive Covenant Modification Form
• Submit the form and the recorded document by email: RCM@rrcc.lacounty.gov or in person at the Norwalk headquarters at 12400 Imperial Highway in Norwalk
• Mail instructions are here.

Orange County:

The Orange County spokesperson says there may be some properties not caught by its software and urges the public to report them. Here’s the form

Riverside County:

Here’s the Riverside County form

San Bernardino County:

Here’s the San Bernardino County form

San Diego County:

Here’s the San Diego County form

Santa Barbara County:

Here’s the Santa Barbara County form

Ignoring the racist language in property documents, some say, reinforces the legacy of segregation, while taking steps to remove restrictive covenant language is a way individuals and organizations can repudiate policies that sought to discriminate.