The LAPD’s Rotten Apples
What I write about the Los Angeles Police Department stems from years of personal experience. Granted, my observations date from the late 1950s to the early 1970s but are of some importance.
I don’t disagree with those who would say I am police-bashing, though the term implies unjust criticism. My anecdotes are factual, objective, and unavoidably negative. I hope my memories provide historical context to one of America’s most storied police forces.
There are good Los Angeles cops who honorably serve the public, but I did not encounter them.
I came of age in Pacoima, California, a chronically impoverished corner of the San Fernando Valley. The LAPD’s Foothill Division policed Pacoima.
Here is how ChatGPT describes my old neighborhood:
(Pacoima) is considered an economically disadvantaged community compared to other areas of Los Angeles. It has a relatively high poverty rate and lower median household income than the citywide average. Historically, it has faced challenges related to poverty, lack of access to resources, and underinvestment.
Asked about crime, this is ChatGPT’s reply: It does have a higher crime rate compared to the overall average in Los Angeles, particularly in terms of violent crimes such as assault and robbery. However, crime rates have fluctuated over time, and efforts have been made by local law enforcement and community organizations to reduce crime and improve safety in the area.
While Pacoima has historically struggled with gang activity and related violence, community programs and increased policing have helped to address some of these issues.
I have reservations about using AI-generated content. However, I have no qualms about it if the information is neutral and accurate, as in this case.
Two years ago, I returned to my old stomping ground. It had been demographically transformed from majority black to almost exclusively Latino. Otherwise, it seemed frozen in time. The 1950s-era neighborhoods were as I remembered them. Pacoima’s small commercial strip was as ramshackle as ever. A bit more than 16 percent of residents live below the poverty line.
In grade school, we were taught that police officers were our friends and noble defenders against wrongdoers. I accepted that as fact until one afternoon in 1958.
The day was ending at Pacoima Elementary, where I was a third grader when word of a police action spread.
It was happening at the large public housing complex a block from school. Several of us students arrived at the scene. An infuriated large black woman was locked in a physical struggle with several LAPD officers intent on putting her in a squad car.
She screamed, thrashed about, and made herself nearly immovable. Suddenly, two baton-wielding cops started hitting the woman on her arms and legs. Residents watching the struggle yelled at the officers to stop striking the woman.
Cops loudly ordered onlookers to keep their distance. I later realized that the police must have feared the arrest would cause a challenging disturbance. Once the woman was manhandled into the car, the police sped off.
I was dumbfounded by what I witnessed. Why did strapping officers believe it necessary to beat a middle-aged woman? Had the officers done everything possible to talk her into going with them? The incident began to color my view of our police.
A few years later, I had a personal LAPD experience that would forever stay with me.
Ricardo Chavira Chicano 