COMMUNITY CARES ABOUT SENIOR ABUSE.

Byline: Dennis McCarthy 

She opened the case file, and looked at the snapshots the police had taken. It was the bruises that caught her eye first. They were ugly, real ugly.

It was the victim's age, though, and who caused those bruises that made Judith Kullman immediately reach for the phone on her desk in Division 101 of Van Nuys Municipal Court last week.

The police report said the victim's name was Zella, and she was 79. The person in custody for beating her up was her 60-year-old son. They shared a small apartment together in Panorama City. Kullman dialed the telephone number.

While it rang, the victim's advocate in the domestic violence unit of the Los Angeles City Attorney's Office read the case history.

How her son had beaten her before, and how he often got violent like this when he wasn't taking his medication for alcohol and drug abuse.

He was a good son when he was on his medication, Zella told police. When he wasn't, he got sick like this. He needs help, that's all.

``What about you, Zella?'' Kullman thought to herself as the phone continued to ring. ``Do you need help, too?''

Kullman knew the answer even before the woman on the other end of the line finally picked up her phone. Of course she did.

``Her first concern was for her son, that she hoped he would get some help,'' Kullman said Wednesday.

It is often this way in elder abuse cases, she knew. Mothers, mostly, making excuses for what happened - in denial that their own children would batter them.

As they continued to talk, Kullman began to realize how dire Zella's immediate situation was. She had spent every last dime she had to be able to move into this small apartment with her son recently.

There was no food in the place, not even a refrigerator to put any in. It was OK, though, Zella told Kullman.

Her sister in West Virginia was sending her a package, mostly canned stuff, so it wouldn't spoil. She'd get by.

Kullman told her that wasn't good enough.

Duane Reed hung up the phone after talking to Kullman an hour later, and walked to the pantry to fill up four big bags with nonperishable food.

That afternoon, the director of the human care outreach program for Our Redeemer Lutheran Church in Canoga Park was knocking on Zella's door in Panorama City.

When he looked around, Reed realized the situation was even more dire than Kullman thought it was.

``As bruised and battered as she was, she was trying to clean things up because the apartment was in pretty bad shape,'' Reed said Wednesday. ``I couldn't find any furniture, except for a bed.

``She said it was OK, that's all she needed, and then she thanked me for the food.''

Reed, like Kullman, begged to differ. No, that wasn't good enough, he said.

When he got back to Canoga Park, he called Ileene Parker, assistant director of community support services for the Valley Interfaith Council.

``I was just as overwhelmed as Duane was when I went over there,'' she said Wednesday. ``The condition the son had left that apartment, and the lack of any items. She was sleeping on a bare bed.''

Parker left behind more food, a plastic patio chair, bed linens and personal items. She is now in the process of trying to find her a good used refrigerator, appliances, furniture and some help to clean up Zella's apartment because it's hard for her to get around after being battered.

Parker can be reached at [phone], Ext. 3012.

``She loves her son and realizes he has some major illnesses, but she's been in denial for so long, and is too proud to ask for help,'' Parker said.

But help is what she is going to get because we can't afford to let women like Zella go it alone, Kullman says.

``There is senior abuse going on, and it can't be hidden,'' she said. ``Zella would have been totally isolated, awaiting a package from West Virginia to survive on, had the community not gotten involved.''

Zella sits on her lone plastic patio chair Wednesday, trying to find the words to say thank you. It isn't easy, she says.

``I was raised to believe that no matter what, you take care of yourself, and don't depend on others for help,'' she said. ``The world doesn't owe you a living.''

No, it doesn't, but maybe it does owe you a hand up from time to time, she says she now realizes.