SECTION 6 UNINHABITABLE CONDITIONS INTRODUCTION

A Disabled Tenant’s Struggle with Dangerous Living Conditions in Violation of Minnesota Law

WALLS OF SILENCE

Surviving Don Klyberg

SECTION 6 TITLE 6.14 RUSTED, JAGGED COMMON AREA GAURD RAILS

Living with a physical disability already presents daily challenges—but for residents like me, the place I’m supposed to call home has become an ongoing source of pain, anxiety, and even danger.

The building I live in, owned by Don Klyberg, features staircases with jagged, rusty metal railings—the very supports I rely on to navigate steps safely. These railings are not only physically degrading but also dangerously sharp and corroded. From their condition, you’d think they’d been pulled from a scrap yard, not installed in a place where people are expected to live. One look at them and you’d understand why I say you need a tetanus shot just to survive here.

Living with a physical disability means navigating a world that often isn’t built for you—but when even your own home becomes a daily physical hazard, it’s not just frustrating, it’s dehumanizing.

That’s the reality I live with every day as a tenant in a property owned by Don Klyberg. The building is uninhabitable and inspectors are fully aware of that. The building isn't just unsafe—the constant sexual harassment and retaliation from Rick Newmann, Klyberg's property manager is dangerous. The external condition of the building it kept well enough but from the moment you open the door it smells like, operates like and looks like something you'd see blocked off with warning tape, not someone’s residence.

Because of my disability, I can’t use stairs without stable support. But what I have instead are rusted, unstable rails that slice, scrape, and threaten to send me to the hospital. It’s not an exaggeration to say that I fear whether my tetanus shot is enough to protect me every time I leave my apartment. And yet, despite how clearly unsafe this is:

The building passed inspection 120 days after I called animal control without any repairs being made and the reason for that refusal to make repairs is my refusal to romantically entertain the real estate properties manager—which the inspector is aware of. Imagine how that makes me feel for the city to only turn a blind eye to the crimes I'm victim to, but to assist in covering them up making it even harder for me to move. I shouldn't have to deal with these conditions or conduct. I shouldn't have the burden of even remaining in proximity to everything that's bad for me while cities beautify the paperwork for criminals to keep on victimizing.

Physically Endangered. Mentally Drained.

Being that I’m physically handicapped. I depend on handrails for balance and mobility every single day. Without secure, functional, and clean railings, simply getting in or out of my home becomes a risk to my safety. Imagine every step feeling like a gamble—will I slip? Will the railing hold? Will I end up in the ER from an injury—or worse, an infection?

It’s not just about the physical struggle. The constant fear of falling or being cut by rusted metal weighs heavily on my mental health. It breeds anxiety. It fuels depression. It makes me feel trapped in a space that’s supposed to offer peace and shelter. And it impacts my productivity—I can’t focus or function the way I need to when my home is a hazard zone.

Living in these conditions has taken a real toll. Physically, it puts me at daily risk of injury or worse. Mentally, it’s a constant strain—a reminder that I’m not seen or protected in the eyes of the people and systems that are supposed to enforce safety.

The stress of knowing my home  the residence is actively harmful is overwhelming. How do you rest in a place that makes you feel unsafe just walking to your door? How do you focus on work, on health, on life, when you’re constantly navigating around hazards that exist only because "groups of other people" don't care enough to fix them?

The Law Says I Should Be Protected — But I’m Not

What’s worse, the condition of this property doesn’t just fail me as a tenant—it violates Minnesota law.

Under Minnesota Statute 504B.161, landlords are required to ensure that all premises and common areas are fit for their intended use and kept in reasonable repair. The law clearly mandates:

• That common areas must be safe and in compliance with health and safety laws at all levels of government.

• That these obligations cannot be waived or modified by the landlord or tenant.

• That the landlord is responsible for these repairs unless the tenant is directly at fault, which I am not.

Again, by law, landlords are required to maintain premises and common areas in a condition that is safe, functional, and compliant with health and safety standards. These duties are not optional, not waivable, and not the tenant’s responsibility.

Yet here I am, living in a building that blatantly ignores these legal obligations. The rusted, broken railings are a direct violation of this statute. They're a hazard to anyone who uses them, but especially to someone in my position, who has no choice but to rely on them. Dangerous railings, visible rust, and a system that still looked the other way and signed off on the inspection.

So what happens when your home is uninhabitable—but leaving it means risking legal action or homelessness?

That’s the trap I’m in.

I want to leave. I need to leave. But until arrangements are made, until there’s a safe and legal way to exit this lease without being punished or left without shelter, I’m stuck. If I leave on my own, I risk retaliation, eviction records, or even the destruction of my property. If I stay, I risk my health—physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Where Is the Accountability?

This isn’t just a complaint about poor housing. It’s a callout of a system that fails the very people it’s meant to protect. It's about a landlord who ignores the law—and a regulatory system that lets them.

No one should be forced to choose between injury and homelessness. No one should be bound to a lease in a building that is visibly unsafe and in clear violation of basic safety expectations, much less disability accessibility.

And no one—especially someone living with a disability—should have to fight this hard just to be safe in their own home.

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To readers, advocates, and officials: The laws are written. The responsibilities are clear. But words mean nothing without enforcement. And people like me are left to suffer the consequences.

This isn’t justice. It’s abandonment. And this state just keeps getting away with it.

Through illegal conduct, they get me to these types of location and this is the abandonment that happens once in these locations. This is what's happening and this is how its been accomplished from the start.