Wednesday, April 25, 2012

The 1992 LA Riots

I was watching the Rodney King thing on CNN "20 years later" and I had some feelings come up that I hadn't felt since the riots. I figured since I don't wanna sit someone down and bore them, I'd just put it up for whoever feels like killing time.

Sometime in March in 1991, a "genius" named Rodney King decided to get inebriated (in celebration of acquiring work, he says) and go on a high speed chase on the 210 freeway. He stated that he did not stop because he knew he was on parole and he had been drinking and driving and he was speeding. He'd be locked up for sure if he stopped. So Mr. "genius" decides to smash after being lit up by the po-po's. Dude hits 100+ on the freeway til he finally realizes that he's not gonna get away and stops. It's still unclear to me as to why he was beaten the way he was but the acquittal of some of these officers the following year sparked a riot that would be known as the historical Los Angeles Riots of 1992.

The date: April 29th, 1992. Location: South Central Los Angeles. My home at the time was on 69th and Normandie, 2 houses away from Normandie on the odd side and 3 blocks away from Florence and Normandie. A lot of BS was being blasted on TV and the radio by the media which, in my opinion, made things worse. I wasn't watching or listening (yet) because I was 6 years old; but this was about the time that Reginald Denny was being beaten on the corner of Florence and Normandie.

A is where I lived at the time. B is Florence



Here's what I remember: It was a sunny day in April and I was out riding my bike. It must have been around noon. I don't remember if I was riding with my neighbors or if I was alone so let's just say I was riding solo. I was riding from down the block towards my house (eastbound on 69th street). As I'm coming up on my house, I see this sudden mob of people walking southbound on Normandie being loud and aggressive. It was very sudden like: car, car, car, big dude, 12 people. All in the middle of the street. The image that stuck in my mind from that very moment in which my brain decided that this was a bad thing was the big dude. He was clearly angry and the mob was following him. He walked up to the pole holding the sign that read "69th", he climbed it a little and started swaying his weight towards the street. I thought he was trying to climb to the top (shut up, I was 6) but what he was trying to do, he succeeded in. He broke the pole at the base, grabs it, waves it around violently and tosses it in the middle of south Normandie onto oncoming traffic.

Now I'm watching the mob cheer him and throwing rocks and bricks at the cars driving by; the cars hauling ass around the mob running over the street sign not giving a shit. The mob moves on towards Florence, thank God. As I'm running towards the front door, my mom opens it and yells "para adentro, rapido!". "Come in, quickly!" she says as she had been watching the news. She had watched the angry mob savagely beat the crap out of Reginald Denny on TV and when she heard "Florence and Normandie" she ran to the door to yell at me to come in. My neighbors checked in on us to make sure were OK and vice versa. I remember my neighbor's dad sitting on the porch, as he did on the daily, smoking butts and drinking beer. This time, however, he was strapped. A good man for sure. He would yell and threaten anyone that came near my house or his property; at gun point. I was too young and moved away too soon before I got to thank him for that.

The next 3 days were the most awkward and uncomfortable days I've lived to this day. After heading in, the TV was gold to us. The news kept us informed on what was happening around us and gave us a bird's eye view on the area. Buildings were on fire, cars were flipped over, people were looting already. At the time, I lived with my mother, my sister, my half sister and her boyfriend at the time and my 2 nieces. My half sister's boyfriend was packing heat and he volunteered for the security role... til he saw people walking down our block carrying as much as they could. They were carrying TV's, radio's but most of all, they were carrying diapers and formula. Packs and packs of diapers and formula carried by women, men and sometimes even the older kids. My niece was still a baby so this enticed my bro-in-law to go on a looting spree. He went alone and came back a couple of hours later with food, clothes, shoes appliances and yup - diapers and formula. No one knows where he went but we didn't care either. Between the time that he went out and came back, the power had gone out. At that point we realized it was us or them. Mind you this was around 7pm. Within 7 hours, the mentality had already switched from love thy neighbor to survival of the fittest - it's you or me and I like me more than you.

So now we're sitting in a candle lit room in the back part of the house. Shit has intensified. The liquor store on Florence and Normandie was on fire. The liquor store I walked or rode my bike to on 67th and Normandie was on fire. The flames were so high it was almost as if the house behind our house on 68th was on fire. We could feel the heat of the flames 2 blocks away. My sister and I worried about the Asian guy that worked at the liquor store on 67th because he was really a nice guy. Gun shots became the normal sound so the shock was gone anytime there was one. Glass breaking, people yelling, running, cars burning out and hauling ass down the streets, helicopters hovering for hours - no sirens. It was chaos. My mom was frantically packing clothes into anything they would fit in. There were plastic trash bags full of clothes and food next to the luggage full of more clothes and food. She wanted to leave. She wanted us all to leave because she feared that they'd start looting homes and lighting them on fire too. Our neighbors from across the street packed up and left. Police were pretty much non existent by 9pm of day 1. My neighbor's dad still on the porch, still smoking and drinking, still strapped. My brother in law convinced my mom that the safest thing to do is stay home and protect her family and her investment. He promised to stay with us - which he did.

A is my old house, B is the liquor store I used to go to and C is Florence and Normandie.



Day 2 came around. Still no power and now no gas so we can't cook. The air outside smelled like burning rubber, burning wood and just burning. It was so smokey that I could barely see the sunlight through the smoke. The next door neighbors checked on us, we checked on them and we were ok. It was a quiet morning which gave my mom a very dangerous thing at the time - hope. My was hoping that this was over and that everything would start to get cleaned up and rebuilt. That didn't happen. It appears that the rioters slept in due to a long night of rioting and looting so they started off day 2 a little late. Same as before though, violent. More looting, more fires, more gunshots and what seemed to me, more people roaming the streets doing whatever they felt like. Another day that I can't grab 50¢ and ride my bike to the store on 67th and Normandie to buy a 25¢ Little Debbie fudge brownie and a 25¢ bag of crunchy Cheetos. Everyone was in the house in their own room - kind of like zombies - no emotions, no conversation. Just a blank stare. My mom prayed a lot. My bro in law went out a couple times. Same blank stare. Day turned into night and the shit was still going on. My mom contemplated leaving again. Bro in law talked her out of it again. Neighbor still on the porch, smoking and drinking and pointing his gun at would be burglars telling them to fuck off.

Day 3. No power, no gas. Air still smelled like crap. To our surprise, however, signs of recovery presented themselves. Finally, some type of law enforcement was present. The National Guard was patrolling our neighborhood. I watched through the window as a camo Humvee dropped off several troops on our block. It was awesome because all I could think about was those big guns and how they soldiers would use them to stop the bad guys. Throughout the day, several Humvee's drove up and down the blocks as well as several foot soldiers. For the first time in a couple of days, I heard sirens. I saw fire trucks and some police cars. It was looking good for the Jedi - I mean the good guys. People started getting arrested and streets started to clear up from rioters.

Day 4 was awesome because for the first time in 3 days, we had a decent night's sleep. The room was no longer lit by the glow of buildings on fire and the background noise was no longer violent. The screams from officers or soldiers (not sure which) "Get down on the ground! Get down, now!" were peaceful and comforting to me. The air still smelled burnt but not as much and the sky was cleared up some. Sometime that day, power was restored. TV came back on and I watched Bush senior address the nation: "We will not tolerate anarchy" he said. Then I watched the footage of all the burning buildings in downtown, the violence that went on in Korea town, and a shot of the liquor store I went to... there was nothing left there... just charred black rubble and the horrifying news that the Asian guy that worked there was robbed and shot to death at close range. I got chills when I heard it and was in disbelief. LA was fucked - to be polite.

A lot of things changed after that. The neighbors on the block that sat there and went for the ride were happy that they'd made it through ok - as were we. The stores that were burnt down were rebuilt. I continued going to that store on 67th and the brownie and Cheetos combo was still 50¢. The Asian guys there were nice, too. The community didn't really come together. There was more awkwardness than anything. Paranoia went around for a while too. A lot of people were still shaken up so everyone on the block was on edge. About a month went by before I could go outside and ride down the block instead of just in our driveway. It took about 3 months before everything went back to normal.

20 years later, people are still far from civilized and still very, very stupid. One thing I did learn from all of this is that I respect law enforcement and peace officers very much. Although absent when the shit hit the fan, law enforcement came through and put things, and people, in their place.



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