Our helicopter whirled in a tight circle over Florence and Normandie in South Central Los Angeles. Pilot Mike Smith kept the ship at an almost constant bank. I was in the left seat next to the pilot and had a clear view of the rampaging clutter on the street below. Cameraman Martin Clancey, strapped in a shoulder harness, was hanging out of the helicopter. He had opened the left side door, placed his mini-cam on his shoulder and was recording the helter-skelter action. This was the early evening of April 29, 1992. The Los Angeles Riots were erupting below us. We had begun to get reports of scattered violence shortly after we had watched on television the barbaric video tape of motorists being ripped out of their cars, hammered, pounded and chased by rock-throwing men on the ground. The image of a man, later identified as Reginald Denny, being pulled from his truck by thugs, still burned in my mind. My memory was seared by the vivid imprint of the motionless, beaten man lying on the ground, being kicked and brutalized. I was still filled with rage at the sight of one of the assailants picking up a large piece of cinder-block and throwing it at his apparently lifeless body, smashing him in the head.
Then, after the savage beating, the attacker appeared to do a dance, raise his hands towards the helicopter overhead and flashed a gang sign. Then, to my utter disbelief, another person on the street reached into the pocket of the fallen driver and stole his wallet. This was my television memory; now I was seeing first hand what was really happening. I peered through my side-window as the copter continued to circle in a steep bank. I could see that traffic was moving through the intersection below us. I watched as various cars whipped in a U-turn around to avoid the ominous chaos ahead. There were clusters of people milling around. They were throwing rocks and bottles at the passing cars. There were no police officers around, just an unruly mob venting hate on innocent motorists who happened to find themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. Other figures on the street were darting in and out of a liquor store at the corner, taking what they wanted. The looting, the beating and the hysteria was going on right below me. My mind went back 27 years to when I covered the Watts riots in 1965. I tried to draw up similarities that might help my reports on what was going on below.
The Essay on Street Car Named Desire Stanleys Brutality
In the Street Car Named Desire, by Tennessee Williams, Stanley Kowalski displays his brutality in many ways. This classical play is about Blanche Dubois's visit to Elysian Fields and her encounters with her sister's brutal and arrogant husband, Stanley Kowalski, and the reveling truth of why Blanche really came. Stanley Kowalski is a very brutal and barbaric person who always has to feel that no ...
I remember telling myself that the big difference was that in Watts, they had fires. It wasn?t long after, that I noticed white smoke beginning to build in the street at the corner. A single overturned car had just been torched and it was beginning to smoke and burn. Within moments, I could see more smoke pouring out of the front windows of the liquor store where looters were still running wild. It was a light smoke, wispy and barely visible from 700 feet above. As we circled, Martin, peering into the viewfinder of his Sony camera, shouted over the radio communications system, ?I think that liquor store is on fire.? Our pilot nodded and refocused the flight circle to the smoking corner building below. Things began to develop in a chaotic and rapid manner. An appliance store just east of Normandie, a short distance from the liquor store, showed the tell-tale light, white smoke. It wasn?t long before that first liquor store had large flames shooting out the doors and windows. The overturned car continued to burn. The appliance store seethed with heavy white smoke that slowly turned to rolling black clouds fed by billowing flames eating their way through the collapsing roof. My thoughts flashed back to 1965.
The Essay on Fire Heater Fires in Residential Buildings
In the article, Fire Heater Fires in Residential Buildings, presented an amazing and interesting set of findings in which portable fire heaters is a contributor to over three thousand eight hundred (3800) residential fires per year. As the finding reveals it is a result of people placing their portable heaters beside combustible items such as sofas, curtains any item that is flammable. Although ...
I remember being in the newsroom watching pilot-reporter Larry Scheer in the KTLA Telecopter broadcasting the first fire pictures from Watts. My reaction tonight was the same that this was more than a quarter of a century ago, ?I can?t believe that this is happening, but I am afraid it is going to get worse.? The light of dusk was now completely gone, the sky was black and the lights of South Central Los Angeles sparkled below. By this time, the station had pre-empted all programs and was in full riot coverage. Hal Fishman, Larry McCormick and Jann Carl were at the anchor desks, Ron Olson was in the middle of the rioting crowd outside police headquarters at Parker Center, Steve Lentz and Marta Waller were covering other parts of the city as the riots seemed to spread. The fires were breaking out over a widespread area below our helicopter. The dark plumes of smoke were ominously spreading to different spots of the city. New fires exploded on Manchester, Vermont, Figueroa, Martin Luther King Jr., Crenshaw, Jefferson, Rodeo and Century Blvd. Our pilot broke off from our tight flying circle as new flare-ups were spotted. He pulled the stick in one direction and cut a diagonal path across the sky to the next erupting blaze.
Each one was a startling surprise. The numbers of separate fires grew from five or six to a dozen, to two dozen. They were now breaking out over a wide part of the city. This was not Watts of 1965 where the fires were started in a relatively small geographical district. These conflagrations were not limited to Watts and South Central Los Angeles. Roaring, billowing, intense flames were burning in all directions. The targets were varied, but very much the same. Supermarkets, Thifty Drug Stores, Chief Auto Parts, Liquor Stores, Swap Meets, Korean businesses, restaurants and mini-malls miles apart ignited under the arsonist?s torch. Often, our copter would arrive when a fire was just starting. We watched countless buildings where the light wisps of smoke were smoldering, where they turned to a heavier smoke, then went gray, then black, then erupted into consuming flames of intense orange. It didn?t take long. One building would have flames rolling through the roof, then the fire would spread to a structure next door. Many-mini malls were completely wiped out when fire exploded in one of the stores, then raced through the common attic that other adjacent businesses shared. Firemen could not respond to many of these early fires because snipers were shooting at them.
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Later police escorts went in with the fire fighters to protect them from the snipers. KTLA remained on the air for hours. At one point our helicopter had to leave the riot zone, race back to the airport, make a fuel stop, then head back to continue our reporting. Countless times during the night, I kept repeating to myself, ?I can?t believe that this is happening.? I have lived all of my life in Los Angeles. I know it well. So many places I grew up with, were burning. It was heart rending to be over my city as these buildings were melted down into charred ashes. So many new buildings had been built in the last few years, a hopeful sign that, at last, something was happening; a new shopping center here, a new mini mall there, an old building rehabilitated across the street with a new business opening up inside. All the progress since the fires of Watts lost in the heat of this night. I kept remembering the stories we did in Watts after the 1965 riots. I vividly recall the twisted, shattered buildings that had burned to the ground. One by one, clean up crews had come in, leveled the structures, hauled away the debris, leaving nothing but vacant, weed-filled lots. Those lots had remained vacant for years after the tragedy of Watts, a wounded community with no places of business, just block after block of vacant lots.
It was so sad, I felt so sad. Here, tonight, each one of these fires was burning up, not only the buildings, but the jobs and futures of so many people who live in the community. Now, there would be no jobs, no places to buy anything, no hope, no future. All because of these fires of April, 1992. For years to come, sociologist will be trying to find out why this happened. What were the deep roots that ignited this tragedy, this rebellion? There will be many questions and many answers. However, there was really only one direct, immediate cause that was the flash point; when the jury in the televised trial of the four officers accused in the beating of Rodney King announced they had found the officers innocent. A pick-up truck with its motor running was in my parking place when I arrived on the KTLA lot that afternoon in March of 1991. A free-lance cameraman had temporarily borrowed my space while he ran a video tape of a late news story to the newsroom. I waited for about thirty seconds, he came racing out the door and waved an apology. ?Sorry, Stan, I think Rosalva will like the house fire I just brought her. Fire through the roof, good action.? ?No problem,? I waved back as he got into his car.
The Essay on Voice Tape
There are many wonderful stories created but the two stories I like best are “The Necklace” and “Voice Tape.” I like this two because it can happen in reality and it can move every people’s heart in some ways. Moreover, both of the stories give a moral lesson on how to handle our life positively and how we must face and overcome every problem we encounter. These two stories also give significant ...
There are several of these cameramen who make a living shooting news stories and selling them for $125.00 each to the different television stations. They drive their own camera cars, listen to police scanners and chase after important breaking news stories. He slammed his truck door shut, backed out much too fast, then raced out of the parking lot to go to another television news room with a copy of his latest news story. I had no idea that another one of those unexpected moments that reporters encounter frequently was about to hit me. They say we should always expect the unexpected, but I have never been able to take those moments in stride. The newsroom was busy when I entered. I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my press pass. I keep it on a chain so I can put it around my neck when I am on stories where they must be worn. I also keep a few keys on the chain, one for the newsvan, others for my desk and mail box. I opened the narrow, book-like, metallic door of the mail box and took out a weekly paper from Taiwan, a letter from the German Consulate, three inter-office memos and my pay check. I closed the door, always hard to relock, and went across the lobby to the glass encased bulletin board.
Yesterday?s program ratings are posted there each morning. There aren?t many businesses where you get a daily report card on how well you did the day before. It is another computer tracking of our daily lives. It is a rather humbling experience, an instant gauge on how the television viewers accept you. It is best not to lose too many days in a row. ?News At Ten? had a six rating, the other three newscasts against us had between a one and a three. That?s good news, but how long could we keep it up. My three to eleven o?clock shift is always full of surprises. Most of the scheduled stories have already been covered, so we turn our attention to what has just happened. I never know what my assignments are going to be when I am driving to work listening to the news radio stations. I don?t know if those at the all-news stations, KFWB or KNX, have any idea how important their newscasts are to those of us who are field reporters. Their local news stories set the tone of the day and give us a feeling of what has happened and what might happen that night. Our assignment editor, Rosalva Skidmore, looked up from her phone call, smiled and waved a greeting. I scanned the news wire copy on her desk while she finished the call.
The Essay on Short Story 12
Short Story In the city of New York there was a white teenage girl Susan living with her mother. She had her tongue pierced and her friends used to call her a little cracker head, because she was always having a withdrawn expression on her face. One time her mother asked little cracker head to visit her grandmother who lived in Queens, to make sure that shes alright. Old lady hasnt been in touch ...
Rosalva is a pretty brunette with a wonderful smile and great enthusiasm. She is great to work with, very pleasant and professional. She handles stress well and refuses to let deadlines get her down. ?Stan, when you get a chance, will you take a look at this free lance video that we got today and see what you think we can do with it. It is an amateur home video, but it is really quite powerful. Take a look at it.? It was an unusual request so I put it in a play-back video unit right away. I looked at the pictures and felt a flow of adrenaline surge through my body. I had never viewed anything like this before. Although shot the night before in the San Fernando Valley Foothill Police Division, it looked like something that might have happened in Tienenamn Square in Beijing, China or in a poor colored town in South Africa, not in Los Angeles. The first part of the video was blurred and it was difficult to tell what was happening, but when the photographer found his focus, I saw an incredible scene of police officers hitting a man with batons, over and over again. The beating didn?t stop. It continued at a frenzy. The person was on the ground reeling around, he seemed submissive, but the blows continued.
I put the VCR in reverse and watched the blows bounce away from the victim, then I put it on ?play? and looked in disbelief as they pounded him again and again. ?What do you want me to do with this?? I asked. ?Some guy with a new home video camera shot this from his patio and he wants to sell it to us as a freelance news story?, Rosalva answered. I kept running the tape back and forth. More than a dozen officers had surrounded the person and three of them were hitting him with batons or kicking him. The others just seemed to stand around. ?Are we the only ones to have it? What?s the background?? I asked. ?There was a pursuit on the Foothill Freeway. The guy tried to get away. When he finally stopped, he got out of the car and tried to take on the whole force?, she answered. Several others in the newsroom came over, clustered around the monitor and watched the video tape playback over and over again. Everyone had a painful expression. ?Better show this to the police first. We?ve got to get their reaction.?
The Essay on Beacon Police Department In Beacon Ny Keeping Track Of Gang Activity
Beacon Police Department in Beacon NY Keeping Track of Gang Activity I have contacted Beacon Police Department in Beacon NY 12508 to find out how they keep track of gang activity. In order to combat gangs, Beacon Police Department takes a multifaceted approach. The gang unit places emphasis on prevention and works in cooperation with school resource officers to identify youth at-risk. This ...
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The tape had been left off at the main gate by a viewer by the name of George Holliday. He had taken the video when he heard shouting and yelling on the street in front of his apartment. He started video taping the action and the violent beating sequence unfolded in front of him. Our News Director, Warren Cereghino, had watched it many times before I saw it. He agreed that we had to show it to the Police Department brass before we put it on the air. I called Lt. Fred Nixon in the Press Relations Department and told him what we had. ?Bring it down Stan, I?ll have some of the staff take a look at it with me.? Commander Bill Booth, who had been head of Press Relations for years had just been promoted to Deputy Chief and this was the first day on the job for his replacement, Commander Robert Gil. Viewing this explosive package would be his baptism by fire. The officers were waiting for me when I arrived with a copy of the tape at their sixth floor office of Parker Center about six o?clock that evening. They watched silently as the tape was played and replayed. You could tell, they could not believe what they were seeing, but their official reaction was calm and noncommittal. Lt. Nixon did an on-camera interview with me and said that they would have to investigate the circumstances and try to determine what did happen. He said there was no way he could comment on the tape, until he knew more about the circumstances. It wasn?t very much, but it was a reaction from the Police Department that we could use on the air when we ran the tape that night. Several other high ranking officers saw the tape before I left that evening. These screenings gave the Department a chance to get ready for the storm that was about to engulf them. I left a copy of the tape and was assured that the investigation would start immediately.
