Ghettoside (47 page)

In mid-2008, the Times suspended The Homicide Report, and I began working on this book, researching and writing it in intervals over the next five years, between hiatuses to meet other work or personal obligations. Beginning in June 2008, I embedded myself once again in the Seventy-seventh, shadowing homicide detectives as I had in the early 2000s. Sam Marullo and Nathan Kouri had joined La Barbera’s squad by then, now working under the same roof with the Seventy-seventh and Southwest’s squads. For more than a year, I accompanied Southeast detectives to crime scenes, court hearings, and interviews, peeling off in the evenings and on weekends to visit victims’ families, attend funerals, or walk the streets. I spent subsequent months in follow-up interviews and library research.

The events, scenes, and details described in this book were, in all cases, either directly observed by me or reconstructed after the fact using interviews with participants. Wherever possible, court documents,
police reports, and other official records were used to verify particulars. All names are real names; some names were withheld due to safety considerations, with particular care extended to witnesses possibly facing reprisal.

I have consistently had problems reconciling reported homicide data with my own data collected through real-time reporting. Officially reported clearance rates, as this book suggests, are frequently at odds with the data reported by detectives when they are asked, point-blank, “Were charges filed?” But to a surprising extent, straight tallies of homicides vary, too. There are unappreciated complexities involved in counting homicides, and these have caused me no small share of headaches.

For this book, I have largely relied on lists of homicides assembled by the coroner’s office, cross-checked with police data, detective-squad tallies, and my own reporting, as this is the most immediate, detailed, and directly sourced information I could come by. The tables I’ve compiled include names of victims, circumstances of deaths, and, in many cases, observations made at crime scenes and funerals and information provided by families and detectives. Over the years, in search of clarity on clearance rates, I have conducted surveys of case outcomes by calling or visiting the assigned detectives or their field supervisors and asking for updates.

For years now, I have tried to penetrate the mystery of disproportionate black homicide. Correlation is not causation. I wanted to know exactly what was happening and why. I’ve sought answers in reported facts and observations, and tried to avoid pat speculation and received wisdom. Mostly, I’ve relied on what I have myself seen or heard directly from those who are close to homicide. I have made deliberate efforts to listen to the bereaved—to seek out the parents, siblings, spouses, and children of black homicide victims, whose viewpoints are under-represented in our national debates over criminal justice. I tried to discipline myself to find people in great pain, from a sense that the sad and disturbing nature of this subject matter is one of the reasons it is avoided and underemphasized. These interviews, in particular, led me to consult scholarly
research on the history of black homicide and the attitudes and policies of legal authorities toward it. So, although statistics are important—the high homicide rate for black men is, after all, the reason I wrote this book—I am with John Skaggs in his preference for the field and the unmediated detail of lived experience. This book is my attempt to relate what I’ve learned—a circumstantial case, to be sure, but the one I saw.

For Christopher

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book would not have happened without the faithful and keenly intelligent efforts of my brother, Steven Leovy, who read every draft, checked facts, and advised and argued with me through every stage, despite his own full-time career and duties. My brother, an engineer, was an unlikely participant in this. But he contributed on every level, from deep issues of writing and story-telling to small matters of jargon and typos, and also provided moral support and every manner of practical assistance. I cannot thank him in any manner that would equal his contribution. I can only reiterate that his commitment to this project is the reason it exists.

Many other people helped in ways great and small. I will not name all of them here, but they include my editors and colleagues at the
Los Angeles Times
, who launched and supported the efforts that supplied the context for this book. They include John Spano, Sam Enriquez, Miriam Pawel, Doug Smith, Sandi Poindexter, and especially Gale Holland, one-of-a-kind editor and friend, who oversaw the Homicide Report blog and also read drafts of this book. I owe gratitude to scores of people in the LAPD, many of whose names do not appear here but who brooked my intrusions for the best of reasons—to make sure I got it
right. A short list must include Matt Mahoney, Glenn Krejci, Pat Gannon, Dorayya Dasari, Gerry Pantoja, Roger Allen, Rick Gordon, David Garrido, Carlos Velasquez, Kyle Jackson, Paul Vernon, Mike Owens, Brent Josephson, and especially Kerri Potter and Mark Hahn. Very special thanks to Tom Eiman, whose brief mention in this book belies his selfless, thoughtful contributions. Thanks also to William Bratton, Charlie Beck, Earl Paysinger, Andy Smith, Rick Jacobs, Jim McDonnell, and Willie Pannell for access, multiple interviews, and general transparency, and also to the crew of South Bureau Criminal Gang Homicide. Special appreciation to Bernard C. Parks, who has generously enlightened me for years with his unmatched knowledge of the LAPD. Finally, I must recognize the late Kenneth O. Garner, who died midway through my work. Garner believed in truly open public institutions and was of great assistance.

Boundless thanks to Farley Chase, who saw the potential of this work when there was no reason to, and to Cindy Spiegel and Julie Grau and their colleagues at Spiegel & Grau, who embraced its complexities and stuck by it through difficulties. To my genius editor, Chris Jackson, whose work transformed this book, I am not just indebted but in awe. Thanks also to W. Fitzhugh Brundage, who kindly reviewed historical portions of this manuscript, Grace Rai, La Wanda Hawkins, Douglas Lee Eckberg, Carter Spikes and Butch Lemon of the Businessmen, eyewitness expert Steven E. Clark for research help, Ben Adair, Brian Vander Brug, Jill Connelly, Craig Harvey, Tom Dotan, Jeffrey Adler, Douglas Massey, Luis Montes and his colleagues at Rancho Los Amigos National Rehabilitation Center, Timothy Tyson and the staff of L.A. City Street Trees, Monique Jordan, Ferroll Robins of Loved Ones Victims Services, and many other family members of victims who courageously chose to speak out. Apologies to the hundreds whose loved ones’ names did not appear here; you are the reason for this book. Deep thanks to my friends and family, who buoyed me through years of sometimes trying work—my parents, both of whom passed away during its research, my steadfast sisters, and my husband, Marc, incomparable journalist, editor and friend.

NOTES

CHAPTER 1

1
The Plague
The name “The Plague” is borrowed from Albert Camus, as are various themes in this book. The opening quote and subsequent ones are drawn from both Stuart Gilbert’s and Robin Buss’s translations of his 1947 novel
The Plague
(in French,
La Peste
).

2
Most had been killed by other black men and boys who still roamed free
Analysis by the author, LAPD homicide data. Characteristics and status updates of 16,435 homicides in the city of Los Angeles from 1986 to the first quarter of 2009 were provided by the LAPD at the author’s request. To reach this conclusion, 3,333 killings of black males were considered, committed between 1991 and 2006. Thirty-eight percent were cleared by arrest in this period. The clearance rate presented here is calculated differently than the federal rate. It represents the outcome of each case, not the sum total of cases cleared each year measured against new homicides, and it excludes cases “cleared by exceptional means,” that is, cases closed with no arrest made. (In recent years, the LAPD has balked at providing this data and said it would no longer update the status of cases or release information more than six months old.) As in the rest of the country, homicide in Los Angeles occurs mostly between people of the same race. In 2006, for example, just 22 of 236 LAPD South Bureau homicides—or ten percent—crossed racial lines.

3
“Nigger life’s cheap now”
Leon F. Litwack,
Been in the Storm So Long: The Aftermath of Slavery
(New York: Vintage Books, 1980), p. 275

4
“a simple mention is made of it”
Gilles Vandal,
Rethinking Southern Violence
(Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 2000), p. 180.

5
“Providence has chosen to exterminate them in this way”
Vandal,
Rethinking Southern Violence
, p. 159.

6
“This is a case of one negro killing another”
Douglas A. Blackmon,
Slavery by Another Name: The Re-Enslavement of Black Americans from the Civil War to World War II
(New York: Doubleday, 2008), p. 305. Governor Cole Blease provided the lyrics to this “song” in his explanation: “Hot supper; liquor; dead negro.”

7
“complaisance toward violence among the Negroes”
Hortense Powdermaker,
After Freedom: A Cultural Study in the Deep South
(New York: Viking Press, 1939) p. 173.

8
“One less nigger”
Edward L. Ayers,
Vengeance & Justice: Crime and Punishment in the 19th Century American South
(New York: Oxford University Press, 1984), p. 231. The full quote offered by the anonymously cited Southern police officer is as follows: “If a nigger kills a white man, that’s murder. If a white man kills a nigger, that’s justifiable homicide. If a nigger kills another nigger, that’s one less nigger.” It would seem to have folkloric status. Black sources interviewed in Los Angeles rendered it various ways, including, “One less of ’em to deal with” and “one less gang member.”

9
“if a black man kills a black man,”
Report of the National Advisory Commission on Civil Disorders
(New York: Bantam Books, 1968), p. 308.

10
what Max Weber called a
state monopoly on violence
Max Weber,
The Vocation Lectures: Science as a Vocation, Politics as a Vocation
(Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 2004), p. 33.

Here and throughout this book, I am indebted to the work of legal scholar Markus Dirk Dubber for articulating the problems of legal theory inherent in preventive policing. For a fuller exploration of the connection between legal autonomy, violence, and what Dubber terms the policing of “inchoate” crimes, that is, crimes that have not yet been committed, see Markus Dirk Dubber,
Victims in the War on Crime: The Use and Abuse of Victims’ Rights
(New York: New York University Press, 2002).

11
In Jim Crow Mississippi
Mississippi figures from Powdermaker,
After Freedom
, pp. 173, 395. Los Angeles figures based on Fredric N. Tulsky and
Ted Rohrlich, “And Justice for Some: Solving Murders in L.A. County,”
Los Angeles Times
, Dec. 1, 1996, and Dec. 3, 1996.

Tulsky and Rohrlich’s in-depth analysis of 9,442 cases found less than one-third of reported killings resulted in conviction for murder or manslaughter, and that black- and Hispanic-victim cases were less likely to result in charges and brought lighter penalties than white-victim cases. (The study found that cases involving white victims were 40 percent more likely to be solved than those involving black or Hispanic victims.) But Tulsky and Rohrlich did not include in their findings the 7 percent of all cases that remained to be adjudicated. So the percentage presented here for blacks in the early 1990s is the author’s estimate. It takes into account lower clearance rates for black victims but adds pending cases to the count, adjusted for average conviction rate. It is compared against the author’s analysis of LAPD homicide case data for those years and reported conviction rates published by the California Department of Justice, which yield a similar result. See also Catherine Lee, “The Value of Life in Death: Multiple Regression and Event History Analysis of Homicide Clearance in Los Angeles County,”
Journal of Criminal Justice
, 33, no. 2 (November–December 2005): pp. 527–34. Lee analyzed the
Times
data and arrived at similar conclusions.

12
“which places the Negro outside the law”
Powdermaker,
After Freedom
, p. 173. She expands elsewhere, saying: “Since no Negro can expect to find justice by due process of law, it is better in the long run to suffer one’s loss—or to adjust it oneself. From this angle, the ‘lawlessness’ sometimes ascribed to the Negro may be viewed as being rather his private individual ‘law enforcement’ ”(p. 126).

13
black-on-black homicide is much of the reason
Blacks, who make up about 12 percent of the county’s population, account for nearly half of its homicide victims. Homicide data from several sources, including the FBI data and James Alan Fox and Marianne W. Zawitz, “Homicide Trends in the United States”
Bureau of Justice Statistics
(2007); see “Trends by Race, 1976–2005.” A total of 186,807 people died from homicides in the United States between 1995 and 2005, according to Fox and Zawitz. Of these victims, 89,991 were black, or 48 percent.

Homicide numbers reported by the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention are consistently a little higher that the FBI’s because they are drawn from a different data set—mortality records. But the racial
disparity is similar. For example, between 2005 and 2010, the agency reported that about 47 percent of U.S. homicide victims were non-Hispanic blacks. (See “Fatal Injury Reports”).