Same ole, same ole
I lived in Los Angeles in 1965. I worked on the eighth floor of the tallest building in town at the time, the IBM building on Wilshire Boulevard.
The building was right next to the famous Ambassador Hotel, where, a few years later, Bobby Kennedy would be killed. I could see a large section of the city from the window of my office, including a section called Watts.
I knew Watts pretty well, as I worked there as a volunteer with the Urban League.
Our committee meetings were held at night. I also tutored black students on Saturday mornings. Watts, in my view, was a pretty nice place to live, certainly better than the tenements of Bedford Stuyvesant and other rundown sections of New York.
In Watts, the buildings and homes were low-rise, sunny and, to all appearances, comfortable. And then in August of ’65, I looked out my window and saw Watts burning. A disheartening sight.
In May 2020, almost 55 years later, it’s déjà vu for me. The same confrontation between an African American and the police that started the protests and riots in Minneapolis started the disturbances in Watts.
“Protest” would not be the correct description of what happened in Watts, at least at the beginning. Rebellion would be more accurate.
Rebellion against housing discrimination, which was wide/spread, segregating not only blacks but Mexicans, Japanese, people from the Philippines; against police brutality; against the lack of good schools; against job discrimination.
The spark was the arrest of a 21year-old black man by a white California Highway Patrol officer. The charge was reckless driving. The incident occurred near the young man’s home in Watts, and his brother, a passenger in the car, walked home and brought back their mother.
She owned the car, which the police impounded. The mother scolded her son for drinking and driving. And then things got out of hand.
Someone shoved the mom. Someone struck the young man who had been driving. The mom jumped on an officer. Another officer pulled out a shotgun. Backup cops tried arresting the driver.
The mom and brother fought with officers. A mob formed and threw bricks and other objects at the police. The family was arrested. The crowd grew. Police tried to break up the crowd but were attacked.
The area became a combat zone. Rioters tore up the pavement, tossing pieces at police cars, fighting, cursing. Fires started. Then looting, on a grand scale. Mostly of businesses owned by whites and Koreans. Whites who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time were pulled from their cars and badly beaten, or killed.
In all, between Aug. 11 and 16, 34 people died, 1,000 were injured, almost 3,500 were arrested. Close to 1,000 buildings were damaged and/or looted, including 267 that were totally destroyed.
The authorities had to call in 2,300 National Guard troops to supplement the 14,000 law enforcement officers who worked to control the situation.
So what did the government do to eliminate police brutality, housing discrimination, poor schools, lack of good jobs?
What government usually does: Create a commission.
A Commission with a capital C, led by the highly respected former head of the CIA, John McCone. The Commission’s report, issued four months after the riots, identified high unemployment, poor schools and inferior living conditions as the cause of the riots.
The Commission recommended preschool programs, improved police-community ties, more job training. The usual.
Those riots will stay with me forever. Along with the knowledge that, as in Watts, recent protests will spawn a commission, and politicians, parasites, social workers, experts, opportunists, professors, carpetbaggers, agitators, priests, ministers, nuns, rabbis, psychologists and fellow travelers will promise the moon.
And deliver smoke.