New York
Protesters Tried to Block an Eviction. But Was It a Case of Deed Theft?
When activists gathered last week outside a townhouse in Brooklyn, ready to block law enforcement officers from carrying out an eviction, they were there to fight back against something larger than just one case: the nefarious practice of deed theft, which appears to be on the rise in New York City.
The protest and the ensuing arrests of several people, including the local city councilman, underscored just how fraught the topic is, particularly in historically Black areas of the city that are now rapidly gentrifying. Mayor Zohran Mamdani last week created an office dedicated to fighting deed theft.
But while the episode, in the Bedford-Stuyvesant neighborhood, reflected concerns about a very real problem, the specifics of the case involving the townhouse are anything but clear.
The office of the attorney general, Letitia James, said the case was not an example of deed theft. (When asked about that determination, Ms. James herself said, “It emanated from deed theft”; a spokesman later clarified that she had been referring to the protest and not the case.)
The fact that a woman, Carmella Charrington, was living in the home, which her father had partly owned for decades, is not in dispute. Neither are the facts that an eviction case against Ms. Charrington began nearly two years ago and that she was recently jailed in connection with a separate civil case related to custody of her father, who is 84 and a ward of the State of Georgia.
Still, comments from a number of high-profile city leaders have been confusing and contradictory. The councilman who was arrested, Chi Ossé, has said deed theft took place. So have State Senator Jabari Brisport; Brad Lander, the congressional candidate and former comptroller; and a host of others.
What is the truth? Public records reveal a sad and complicated saga involving several court cases and law enforcement agencies, and spanning generations and at least two states.
What Is Deed Theft?
The term “deed theft” is used to describe fraudulent behavior that can result in longtime homeowners’ losing the rights to their homes. The New York State attorney general’s office received more than 500 complaints of deed theft in New York City last year, more than in the previous two years combined.
The practice can involve thieves misrepresenting themselves as brokers or lenders and tricking someone into signing documents that transfer ownership. Many thieves target older people, sowing confusion over complicated property records or exploiting their trust.
After taking control of the home, the new owner could look to sell it for a profit, rent it out at a high rate, or take out a loan against the property to buy something else.
A Jointly Owned Townhouse
The home at the center of the current debate, at 212 Jefferson Avenue, is a three-story brownstone that was built in 1909, according to Landmarks Preservation Commission records.
At some point in the 1980s, it was owned by two people, property records show: Allman Charrington, Ms. Charrington’s father, and Gertrude Keene, Ms. Charrington’s great-aunt.
Ms. Keene later transferred her share of the property to Clinton Morrison, her son, who in turn passed it to his children when he died.
As recently as 2024, the property was owned jointly by several Morrison children and Mr. Charrington, according to the records.
A Court-Appointed Guardian
In 2020, with Mr. Charrington’s health declining, two of his daughters, including Carmella, filed a petition in probate court in Fulton County, Ga., asking for a court-appointed guardian and conservator to manage his affairs “by reason of mental disability,” according to court records. (Mr. Charrington traveled frequently between New York City and Georgia, where some of his relatives lived.)
Ms. Charrington asserted in the filings that she wanted to be the conservator, saying that her father’s wife, Karen Charrington, was not looking after his best interests. Court records indicate that Mr. Charrington’s wife had signed his property into her name and transferred thousands of dollars out of his bank account. His wife insisted that she had not acted nefariously, but she agreed to return the money and restore the deed, the records show.
Ultimately, the court appointed a lawyer, Luanne Bonnie, in 2021 to be Mr. Charrington’s conservator and to help him manage his property. The court records say that the parties agreed to Ms. Bonnie’s appointment.
Conflict Brews Between Owners
Court records filed in Brooklyn show that in 2019, the Morrison family wanted to sell the Bedford-Stuyvesant home, putting them at odds with Mr. Charrington. Mr. Charrington fired back in court papers that he wanted to be reimbursed for money he had spent over the years on property taxes and maintenance. Both parties failed to show up at court dates and the case was never resolved.
But several years later, with Mr. Charrington under a conservatorship, the probate court in Georgia gave Ms. Bonnie permission to sell the property. In an October 2022 order, Judge Barbara J. Koll said that at least a dozen possible buyers had shied away in previous years because of “the legal difficulties surrounding the existing tenants of the property.” The property had been for sale since 2018, the judge said; it is unclear who listed it, given Mr. Charrington’s opposition.
Property records show that the home was sold in January 2024 to a limited liability company called 227 Group, about which not much is publicly known.
Ms. Charrington, 54, who grew up on the block — in the townhouse and another relative’s home across the street — called the sale fraudulent and unlawful.
She asserts that her father was taken advantage of, and says she brought him to New York in November 2023, without the permission of the state of Georgia, and put him into hiding. She also says that Ms. Bonnie was “unlawfully appointed” and had not followed the proper procedures before agreeing to the sale.
“I think that everything will be able to be peeled back and things will become more concrete,” Ms. Charrington said in an interview. “We want to expose them. I’ve been screaming out for two years that this is deed theft.”
But a lawyer for the Georgia Department of Human Services said in a March 2025 court filing that Ms. Charrington and other relatives had “essentially kidnapped” her father, and were “detaining him against his will.”
Ms. Charrington is still living in the townhouse. It remains unclear where Mr. Charrington is, but his daughter said he was staying with friends and relatives in the New York City area.
She recently posted a video of her father on social media, in which he says he is safe and wants to be left alone.
A Mysterious L.L.C.
According to records filed with the New York Secretary of State, 227 Group is associated with the investors Simon Blitz and Daniel Gazal. Property records list one of its leaders as Andrew Kastein, who is also associated with the investment group P11 Management.
One point of intrigue is that the property records appear to show that 227 Group shares an address with another limited liability company, Brooklyn Gates. That company is linked to a group of investors known to target properties in gentrifying, historically Black and Latino neighborhoods like Bedford-Stuyvesant.
An investigation by the news website The City found that while Brooklyn Gates’s practices were largely legal, the company had ended up displacing “dozens of longtime city residents.”
Property records indicate that Brooklyn Gates had moved to buy the townhouse at 212 Jefferson Avenue from the Morrison children in 2021. Video and photographs that Ms. Charrington provided to The New York Times show a man, who Ms. Charrington said is one of the owners of Brooklyn Gates, trying to gain entrance to the property, and then leaving when Ms. Charrington threatens to call the police. The contract was later canceled, and the sale did not go through.
Through a spokesman, 227 Group denied any association with Brooklyn Gates, saying it had been made aware that the property was for sale by a lawyer for the Morrisons and Ms. Bonnie.
The company said in a statement that it had never interacted directly with the Morrison family or with Ms. Bonnie. It also said it does not share an address with Brooklyn Gates, and that the fact that the property records show the same address for both entities stemmed from a filing error.
“We are weighing our legal options against those who are spreading the false and malicious ‘deed theft’ narrative,” the statement reads.
The company said Ms. Charrington had continued “to illegally occupy the property rent-free for over two years” and had prevented representatives of the company from gaining access to it.
A Neighborhood Watch, and a Protest
Before the protest, neighbors and activists had been keeping watch outside the home for months in case officers showed up to evict Ms. Charrington. But the conflict last week involving Mr. Ossé, who said he sustained a concussion after officers wrestled him to the ground for blocking the gate, put a public spotlight on her story.
The announcement of the city’s new office to fight deed theft — though it was already planned when the protest took place — also fueled interest in the case.
And Mr. Ossé has continued to publicly push Gov. Kathy Hochul to issue a moratorium on evictions in cases where deed theft is suspected.
“The community has come together in a way that shows that they are scared,” said William McFadden, Ms. Charrington’s son, who also lives at the Bedford-Stuyvesant house. “How did so much deed theft happen under our noses?”
How can people possibly afford to live in one of the most expensive cities on the planet? It’s a question New Yorkers hear a lot, often delivered with a mix of awe, pity and confusion.
We surveyed hundreds of New Yorkers about how they spend, splurge and save. We found that many people — rich, poor or somewhere in between — live life as a series of small calculations that add up to one big question: What makes living in New York worth it?
Ryan Compton knows a thing or two about gigs. To make it in New York, he has worked as a retail associate inside the Museum of Modern Art’s gift store, a cashier for a downtown taqueria and a paint mixer for Takashi Murakami. He has experienced the paradox of a city both known for its artists and for pricing artists out.
Financial constraints forced Mr. Compton, who is from South Jersey, to move away from New York twice over the course of two decades. He has lived in Baltimore, Chicago and Philadelphia, but remains convinced the resources and people inside New York are unparalleled.
“You never know who you’re going to run into,” he said. “Everyone’s curious about each other.”
Since moving back in 2022, he has whittled down his source of income to a single gig as a security guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where he made $51,000 before taxes last year. It’s his second time at the museum. He first worked there part-time in 2011 before leaving in 2015 to earn his master’s degree in sculpture from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.
“I know I couldn’t afford graduate school and the cost of living in New York at the same time,” he said.
A third try at New York life has forced Mr. Compton, now 46, to confront the sustainability behind a career as both an interdisciplinary artist and a security guard — even inside one of the most famous museums in the world.
Love at First Sight (With New York)
As an undergraduate student at the Maryland Institute College of Art, Mr. Compton looked forward to spending weekends at his friend’s apartment gallery in the East Village in Manhattan.
A combination of showing face and knowing the right person led to his side project at the time — fashioning 3-d printed stuffed animals with skull faces — which were featured in an issue of Vogue Japan. He even sold a few inside a handmade craft store in Tokyo’s Ginza district for about $1,000.
“I was interested in the contrast between fuzzy-shaped animals and skulls,” he said, later adding, “You know, stuff when you’re a 20-something-year-old being kind of edgy.”
The early moment of success propelled Mr. Compton to chase after opportunities to showcase his work. While supporting himself financially through retail and service jobs, he helped write the artist Roman Ondak’s interactive performance piece at MoMA, “Measuring the Universe;” and worked as a collaborator for “No Souls for Sale,” an experimental project temporarily at Dia Chelsea and later, the Tate Modern in London. Both went unpaid.
“The chance to work in modern art before I was 30 is unheard of,” Mr. Compton said. “It only happens in New York.”
A Slower Pace
Tens of thousands of people flock to the Metropolitan on weekends, and it’s Mr. Compton’s job — one he has found increasingly difficult — to make sure the art is untouched. He believes social media has altered the way visitors engage with the museum. Think more selfies and poses leaned against Hellenistic marble.
The one hour work commute from Parkchester in the East Bronx gives him time to prepare for a long day ahead. He splits a two-bedroom with a co-worker for $1,000 a month and pays $50 in utilities. Heat and water are included in his rent, and his roommate covers the cost of Wi-Fi. He pays $90 each month for his phone bill.
The slower pace of the residential neighborhood matches the stage of life he’s in now. In the last few years, Mr. Compton has slowed down as he has come to terms with the expenses behind his art.
He no longer has free access to fabrication laboratories pegged to his university, and he has opted for the more cost-friendly hobbies of zine-making and book binding. He is, however, eyeing a $1,000 3-d printer. For now, he has settled on $20 a month Photoshop subscription.
The largest constraint tempering Mr. Compton’s spending is his $100,000 student loan debt from graduate school. The window for his deferment period closed, and even with some money he inherited after his mother passed, he says he needs a miracle to finish paying off his loans. “I’m not sure what to do anymore,” he said.
Splurging on Plants and Experimental Harsh Noise Records
Mr. Compton may not have any children, but he is a proud “plant dad.”
His apartment houses $1,000 worth of plants sourced through Facebook groups, pop-ups and by following Brooklyn Horticulture online. He typically pays $30-$50 for medium to large sized plants, but he is constantly on the lookout for deals.
When he isn’t at home with his plants, Mr. Compton treks into Manhattan to do his weekly grocery shopping at Trader Joe’s. He prefers the prices there to local spots in the Bronx and estimates he spends $70 each week.
A cash guzzler of Mr. Compton’s food budget is the $20 a day — an additional $80 a week — he spends at the Metropolitan’s staff cafeteria for breakfast and lunch. When working 12 hour shifts, “I’m not gonna go home and make something to bring the next day,” he said.
On his days off, he seeks out affordable food deals. He frequents Vanessa’s Dumplings in Chinatown for their $8 dumpling special.
When in the mood to treat himself, Mr. Compton rides the train a few more stops out to Ridgewood, Queens and Bushwick, Brooklyn, to visit his favorite record stores like Fringe Records and Nexus Records. An experimental harsh noise aficionado, he spends no less than $100 each visit.
His biggest and most recent splurge was a 10-day trip to Tokyo, Kyoto and Osaka in Japan in February. He was able to cut his $900 round trip ticket to $700 with credit card points. Add in the cost of hotels, meals and souvenirs, he spent close to $5,000 total.
“I wanted to go because my artwork had been to Japan, but I haven’t been to Japan,” he said.
Looking Ahead
Mr. Compton wants to strike a balance between saving and enjoying the life he dreamed of in New York. To help pay off his loans, he considered applying to be an art handler for the Metropolitan, a job with a slight pay bump. But without his present benefit of overtime pay, he’s afraid he would be making less than he does currently.
Over the years, Mr. Compton has found community among other security guards at the Metropolitan, who, like him, are artists. He has also built inroads with notable names at the museum, one being Sheena Wagstaff, the former chairman of modern and contemporary art, who he said took the time to know Mr. Compton not only as a co-worker, but also as an individual, too.
Because of his connections, he feels like he has nowhere else to go. He considered a quieter lifestyle upstate in Westchester or the Catskills, but believes he will make less money outside of the city. And, of course, he would have to leave the place he’s called home for the majority of his adult years.
“I did four other cities, and they weren’t as good or great as I like New York,” he said. “I always end up here.”
We are talking to New Yorkers about how they spend, splurge and save.
You made it time. If you want to look a little longer, just scroll back up and press “Continue.”
Look up.
Before you commute home to suburbs like Tarrytown and Larchmont, or race toward the next stop on your tourist map, take a minute.
Look up to see the stars.
One hundred and twenty-five feet above you are 2,500 stars and six signs of the zodiac along the ecliptic, a line that represents the path of the sun across the sky:
The signs are joined by a few others: Orion, Pegasus, Triangulum and, in the center of it all, Musca Borealis (the Northern fly, or sometimes called Apis, the bee). The Milky Way streaks across the ceiling in the opposite direction. The whole thing is ringed by intricate plaster moldings along the clerestory windows. Fifty-nine of the stars twinkle.
Who says there isn’t magic in Midtown?
The original early 1900s plan for the ceiling was to build a massive skylight so commuters could look up at the actual stars:
But time and money were short, so the architects asked the artist Paul Helleu to design a version of the sky on the ceiling instead. Helleu took inspiration from star atlases from the 1600s. His main resource was the Uranometria from 1603, a lushly illustrated volume that was the first detailed cataloging of individual stars, their positions and brightness. See how similar the figures are. This is Aries:
Here’s Taurus, the bull:
A heart balloon — one of several — had floated up the day we took this photograph, nestling between Orion’s club and Taurus’s horn (maybe an earthly sign that this heavenly hunt might finally resolve).
Converting the flat drawings of a spherical sky re-projected onto a semi-cylindrical vaulted ceiling would have been no easy task. The design work was done by a famous scenic designer and muralist, James Monroe Hewlett, and was overseen by the Columbia astronomy professor Harold Jacoby, who in 1910 assured a panicked public that Halley’s comet would not hit Earth.
Dozens of painters got to work. The terminal opened at midnight on Feb. 2, 1913. The New York Central Railroad boasted “that many school children will go to the Grand Central Terminal to study this representation of the heavens.”
Two weeks later, a commuter from New Rochelle (and a hobby astronomer) looked up at the ceiling and realized that west was east and east was west and the sky was not, actually, in a proper arrangement. Only Orion was shown in the “correct” orientation. He wrote a “wrathful” letter to the station. As The New York Times reported in 1913, officials at Grand Central “did not deny the charge that things were a bit mixed, but held that it was a pretty good ceiling for all that.”
How this happened is still a matter of debate, given Professor Jacoby’s astronomical blessing.
Michael Allison, a former NASA planetary scientist at the Goddard Institute for Space Studies (and a former adjunct in the Columbia astronomy and astrophysics department), met me last month at the great clock under the ceiling to explain his theory.
“I’ve stared at the ceiling I don’t know how many hours,” he said. “I keep hoping I can discover one more thing.”
The liberties taken, Mr. Allison said, like re-sizing the constellations to fit the space and flipping Orion (in relation to the rest), were carefully done. Ultimately, a good marriage of art and science. He thinks Jacoby was a victim of big project bureaucracy, that it was all a mixup.
Jacoby probably expected the design he approved to be projected overhead, where the result would match the plans if you held them above you. The painters put them on the floor instead. Hence, the flip.
But this “heavenly view” — the stars as if they could be seen from above, looking down — may not be a bad view at all.
“There are just so many bad things happening in the world now that I think the sky offers a perspective that can lift us above that,” Mr. Allison said.
For Deirdre Newman, the great-granddaughter of the muralist Hewlett, who painted the ceiling, the imperfection “is what art is.”
Ms. Newman, it turns out, is also a painter of murals and ceilings. But these days, if she has to flip an image, she just hits a button on the projector.
“Anytime I make a mistake painting, I’m like, this proves that it’s art,” she said. “It is not perfection, and it shouldn’t be — it would be a sad thing if it was.”
The stories that we’ve given to the stars over millenniums, some of the most retold tales in history, are hardly orderly — stories of fate, violence, betrayal, revenge, sex and punishment. Cancer helps Hera in pinching a rival’s foot. Orion, son of Poseidon, is placed in the stars by Zeus, locked in an eternal hunt. The two fish of Pisces (Aphrodite and Eros) are linked together to escape the monster-of-all-monsters, Typhon.
Or the stories are totally different if you were Babylonian or Egyptian, Greek or Roman. Today, the stars mean something else again to a devoted user of the horoscope app Co-Star, seeking reassurance after a breakup. And to a commuter standing in Grand Central, looking up while waiting for the train, the stars might just be a momentary diversion, a decorative way to pass the time. Or more.
Take what you want. Take what you need.
***
By the 1940s, the ceiling had fallen into disrepair, so they painted a whole new one on four-foot-by-eight-foot asbestos sheets over the old one. This is the version that exists today. Eventually that second ceiling, too, grew dark with grime and had to be cleaned from 1996 to 1998. The difference was stark. As you were zooming in, you may have noticed a little dark square by Cancer. They deliberately left one bit of the uncleaned ceiling here:
The best time to take all of it in — the ceiling, and the majesty of the station — might just be coming this weekend. The setting sun will line up with Manhattan’s street grid and should (pending clouds) bathe the terminal in a beautiful golden glow Saturday at 8:19 p.m. and Sunday at 8:20 p.m. I plan to be on the east balcony looking west on Sunday for that moment.
See you there.
How we took the photograph
To generate a high-resolution panorama of the ceiling, The Times captured 232 close-up images. We then used software to stitch these photos into an equirectangular projection, to approximate the curve of the ceiling. We also developed custom computer vision software to ensure consistent color blending across varying lighting conditions. To optimize for display efficiency and clarity during navigation, the image was then re-projected into the shape of a cube. We think it’s still a pretty good picture for all that.
This is an installment in our series of experiments on art and attention. If you liked this one, you may like these past exercises: a finished, unfinished portrait; a sudden rain over a bridge; a unicorn tapestry; some buckets from Home Depot; and a Whistler painting.
Sign up to be notified when new installments are published here. And let us know how this exercise made you feel in the comments.
Welcome to Day 2 of the Metropolitan Diary challenge, part of our celebration of the column’s 50th anniversary. On Day 1, we gave you tips for identifying your New York City story. Today, we’ll help you write it. (Missed Day 1? It’s not too late to start.)
What makes for a good Diary? It’s simply a good story that happens to be set in, and capture, the essential New York-ness of the city. While this isn’t a full writing course, we do have guidance on the kinds of elements that the submissions we publish include. They typically have: a beginning, middle and end; sharp details; catchy dialogue; a bit of surprise; some humor, warmth or emotion. But there is no formula, so flouting these loose rules can be worthwhile.
Don’t worry if you don’t think of yourself as a “writer.” Focus on being a “storyteller.” Pretend you are telling your story to the person who’d most appreciate it, using whatever conversational language or pacing that would hold their attention. Do it out loud if you want, maybe give that person a call and tell them your story (or tell it to them again). Then write it down.
That’s the big picture. For more tips, read on.
Here is an example of a published Diary that we (and readers) really liked, and a few thoughts on why that may help crystallize yours.
Unacceptable
Dear Diary:
I went to a new bagel store in Brooklyn Heights1 with my son.
When it was my turn to order, I asked for a cinnamon raisin bagel with whitefish salad and a slice of red onion.2
The man behind the counter looked up at me.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t do that.”3
— Richie Powers
One of this item’s best qualities is that it is short and snappy. Only 53 words! Although we will use stories of up to 300 words, many don’t need to be that long and the column doesn’t work if we don’t have a mix of long, medium and short, so we are always looking for stuff like this. Here’s another one!
At Attention
Dear Diary:
It was December 1967. I had just finished basic training at Fort Dix in New Jersey and was traveling to Boston in uniform. For reasons I no longer recall, I stopped in New York City on the way.1
Walking on the Upper East Side2 in a snowstorm, I spied another man in a uniform. He was older, and his cap bore the familiar gold band that identified him as an officer.
I rendered a snappy salute. It was not returned. 3The uniform was unfamiliar, so I guessed he was a foreign officer. Military courtesy still required me to salute.
A little farther down the street, I encountered another officer and offered another salute that went unacknowledged.4 His uniform was strange to me as well.
The third time it happened, the man I saluted ignored me while holding the door for a couple 5on their way into a large apartment building.
I realized I had been saluting doormen.6
— Stephen Salisbury
To get your storytelling muscles going, think through or jot down the answers to some of these questions.
Let’s start with setting the scene.
- When and where in the city did this happen? Is this place well-known?
- Was there anything particular about that point in your life that’s relevant?
- What did you see, hear, smell? Was there something notable about the weather?
Now, let’s move to the middle, the meat of the story.
- Did you have an exchange with someone?
- What details are important to how events unfolded, especially in setting up the ending?
And now, the end.
- What’s the resolution? Is there a punchline?
- Does the story end with a sense of shared humanity or some other warm feeling that lingers? You don’t need to name it. A good description will often allow readers to feel it too.
- Why has this experience stayed with you?
- Lines like “and that’s why I love New York” are almost always unnecessary.
That’s it. Keep your story simple and use the kind of plain language you use in conversation. You are sketching a moment in time. The details are important. Let them move the story along. Have fun and good luck.
Once you’re done, read through what you’ve got. What details are less important and can be left out? (Remember, there is a strict 300-word limit.)
Write your Metropolitan Diary however you like, on paper, on your phone or wherever! When you’re happy with what you’ve written, put your diary entry into the box below, fill out your information and submit it. You might just hear from me about including it in a future column.
This is the official submission form, so make sure to double-check your work before hitting submit.
That’s it! Submit your Metropolitan Diary.
By transmitting your submission, you grant The New York Times Company a perpetual, royalty-free license to use the submission in any medium. They may be edited, and may be republished and adapted in all media. You may reprint your story elsewhere after it appears in The Times.
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