With Memorial Day fresh in our minds, we would like to take this opportunity to recognize the heroism of Dino Rossi, a veteran of the United States Air Force.

This story, however, is not about his actions on any traditional battlefield. But make no mistake, Rossi has embroiled himself in a heated and contentious battle, one with severe and life-altering consequences for its underdog stakeholders.

For the past six months or so, Rossi has led an effort on behalf of his fellow tenants at a North Fordham-area building on the Grand Concourse to fight the injustice being done there by building owner Jacob Selechnik. (See previous issue, May 15, “Tenants Stand Up to Landlord’s Bully Tactics.”)

He says the stealth and serpentine Selechnik, often referred to by housing advocates as “Jake the Snake,” with the help of his daughter Ellen, is all but physically forcing residents, through a variety of shameful tactics, out of Rossi’s building, 2720 Grand Concourse. For the Selechniks, it seems to come down to simple math: The more people they can scare away, the higher they can jack up the rents.  

So far, five tenants have left in the past few months, including one woman who suffered a heart attack she attributed to stress from the landlord’s tactics.

While Rossi, a former organizer, is savvy enough to see through Jake the Snake’s tricks, he also recognizes that many other tenants don’t speak enough English or don’t have enough time or money to help themselves. Most of those targeted for harassment have Spanish-sounding last names or darker skin. And Rossi has bent to help every last one.  

“I know prejudice when I see it,” Rossi told us.  

In fact, he knows prejudice all too well. Rossi, who is gay, has routinely been the subject of homophobic slurs by a few of his neighbors. At one point it got so bad, he even filed and won a restraining order against a fellow tenant.

Still, Rossi hung in there, working diligently on behalf of fellow tenants.

That is until two weeks ago.

That’s when mail carriers attempted to deliver mail to 2720 and were nearly eaten alive.

Because Jake had installed non-regulation-sized mailboxes (despite having been told what size the boxes needed to be), the postal service hadn’t delivered mail there for two months. Tenants were picking up mail at a post office a mile away. Many missed timely bills and valuable social security checks. Others failed to receive time-sensitive housing court summonses sent by Jake’s lawyers. They were all frustrated and fed up.

So when an innocent mail carrier showed up at the building, in large part because of Rossi’s efforts, tenants at 2720 were like starving wolves staring down a wounded deer. And they pounced, literally ripping the mail out of the carrier’s hands and bag.

Shaken but unharmed, the carrier escaped. But Rossi had had enough. He told other tenant leaders he could do no more for these disrespectful and ungrateful people.

The landlord’s harassing tactics ultimately pushed these people to the brink and then over it. There is little that gets people where they live more than, well, being attacked where they live. A property owner might be thrilled to see tenants distracted from the source of their problems by attacking mail carriers and calling each other names. He couldn’t be happier seeing them tear down their best soldier.

But New Yorkers have a new weapon they can use to fight for peace at home: A new tenant harassment law classifies harassment as a hazardous housing violation that could be subject to up to a $5,000 fine.

So rather than beating up on each other, we suggest tenants at 2720 channel their frustrations to the source, and use this law against Jake the Snake.

After a week of pleading, Rossi reluctantly agreed to come back and continue the fight, but he’s waning and feels underappreciated. We suggest the other tenants at 2720 do whatever they can to keep their champion on the battlefield.