At a local level, the debate over the law has divided the residents of the Bonnie Brae into two camps, with the likes of Frederickson, a hardy German émigré, on one side, and Ray Goodrich, a slim 84-year-old with a pulmonary disease and a lifelong allergy problem, on the other.
And, as with many combatants, there is a mix of respect and animosity.
"She is one tough old woman," Goodrich said.
Frederickson is less loving.
"I would not acknowledge that man for anything in the world," she said. "He started this as a vendetta against other residents."
A soft-spoken North Carolinian who grew up playing in tobacco warehouses as a child, Goodrich hardly seems the vendetta type, but he did say he noticed smoke from neighbors' rooms soon after he moved into Bonnie Brae in 1998.
"It gave me an instant headache, kind of like an iron band around the head," Goodrich said. "I could be sitting and have the air filters going, which eliminated the visible smoke, but the smoke was still there."
He finally decided he had had enough after a fire broke out in a smoker's room in the complex in 2003, a blaze that was fed by the tenant's oxygen tank.
"I came around the corner, and there was just a giant puff of black smoke, and I knew I wasn't going to last five seconds in that," Goodrich said. "It was like Dante's inferno up there."
Goodrich began a letter-writing campaign, petitioning everyone from local officials to the federal Department of Housing and Urban Development, which helps finance the privately managed Bonnie Brae.
"We need your help," read one of Goodrich's letters in July 2006. "A barking dog disturbs our sleep but will not kill us. Secondhand smoke is killing us."
That letter caught the attention of several members of the Belmont City Council, including Dave Warden, a Belmont native and software consultant who served on the council until 2007. Warden said council members were particularly moved when Goodrich followed up with visits to Council meetings, often joined by other Bonnie Brae tenants - using walkers, wheelchairs and oxygen tanks - and telling harrowing tales of life surrounded by secondhand smoke.