"Can We All Get Along?"

Twenty-nine years old. I was working at the Los Angeles bureau of LIFE magazine. The LIFE bureau at that time was located at10880 Wilshire Blvd., Westwood, California. 

The brutal beating of Rodney King by four police officers was broadcast hundreds of times on television news.  A high speed car chase ended with the inebriated King suffering numerous injuries at the hands of four police officers claiming to subdue and arrest the man. 

April 29, 1992, 3:15 pm-- Most people I knew were shocked by Judge Weisberg’s acquittal of the officers on trial for beating Rodney King. 

6:45 pm -- The outrage of the acquittal led to the horrific beatings of Reginald Denny and Fidel Lopez. The video of the incident seemed to play on an endless loop. Violence, anger, hatred, and fear spread throughout the city.

Living north of I -10 in West Hollywood I felt safe somewhat removed from the violence. Outside my ground floor apartment I watched the smoke rise from the south, east, and southwest.  I felt the need to see what was happening.

Curfew in effect I jumped in my red Nissan pick-up truck to check out what was happening. I had official LIFE press pass and was hoping I would be immune from arrest and violence. My goal was to locate amateur photographers throughout the city and hopefully acquire great photos for possible publication. I spent little time thinking about any danger in my outings.  

I never anticipated the feeling of isolation as I drove the streets undisturbed. Occasionally I would spot or hear an emergency vehicle. There were very few police cars and no police in action. The National Guard was on its way but not in place as I headed south on La Brea Boulevard.

I drove slowly by burnt out building and buildings fully engulfed in flames, no fire trucks or police cars in site. I assumed they were patrolling other areas perhaps further north in the more affluent neighborhoods. 

I headed East stopping and handing out cards to the few brave souls snapping photos of the destruction, violence, and looting.  I sped by a Circuit City east of Hollywood as looters walked away with televisions and anything else they could carry.  Witnessing looters fighting over a small appliance I felt the need to find a safer place. I hurried home. Not one looter I saw was black. I tried to mentally grasp the mayhem I just witnessed in the predominantly Hispanic neighborhood north of Korea town.

That day I never thought Los Angeles would ever return to the city is was on April 28, 1992. When I returned to the office the National Guard soldier was standing on the corner of Glendon and Wilshire holding what appeared to be an M-16. The sight of the soldier in combat gear didn’t make me feel any safer. It made the atmosphere of fear more palpable. Living in a combat zone was what people were experiencing in Los Angeles.  It was surreal.  I wondered if things would ever return to “normal.”

The new world order was people living in isolation and fear.

Social Inequalities continue as well as police brutality. Racist acts of violence grab headlines everyday. It seems we are forever cast back to the infant stage of the equality learning curve. I think about Rodney King’s plea, “Can we all get along?” 

It's a sad answer.