By LYNNE DAVIS
Big Shout Magazine, June 1992

Editor’s note: Lynne Davis is the former bassist for the band Richard Bush & the Candles.

Well, here it is April and having been in Southern California only five months now, we’ve already survived the floods of ’92, a 6.1 earthquake, and a major case of mass civil unrest. But actually, this “incident” has been a frustrating, frightening, and enlightening experience.

Once the Rodney King verdict was read at the end of April, all hell broke loose everywhere!

Fires began to break out all over the city, even here outside downtown L.A. Gangs of people were running on the freeways, jumping on cars, and lighting palm trees on fire. When the looting started to get really out of hand, every business closed up and many were boarded up for the next week. This, of course, all began to unfold just as rush hour reached its peak, and it took some people four hours or more to get home that night.

Every club in town was closed for days, and with a dusk-to-dawn curfew, all we could do was sit at home and view the incredible blowup of hatred and blind anger on the 24-hour network news (life without cable… Argh!) There was no escaping what was going on outside, even in our relatively-safe suburban home.

The first time we did venture out the next day was to forage for fast food. We were only a mile from home and five minutes gone when five police cruisers pulled up on the block and suddenly the place was crawling with cops running around with guns drawn in pursuit of some suspect or other.

Needless to say, we scampered back home right away. We did defy the curfew once more to venture up to Hollywood on the second night. We were stunned albeit amused to find the usually glitzy, noisy streets silent and dark, practically deserted. The choking stench of 1,000 fires burning hung heavily in the air. Surprisingly, no cops were in sight. It was 10 p.m. on a Friday night.

It was amazing though, how people on the street and in the stores after things cooled down were relating to each other. Everyone seemed to be taking a harder, longer look at each other and talked more opening and in friendlier tones than usual.

I haven’t been in Los Angeles long enough to develop any real attachment to it, but can you imagine all of New Castle County under curfew, or the campus at the University of Delaware in ruins? Picture South Street in Philly looted and completely trashed by roving gangs of thieves, some hopping taxis to their next target and instructing their drivers to “leave the meter running!” Sad.

It’s no wonder to me that this should occur here in L.A., considering that it is truly the bottom of the melting pot that is our country. Nowhere is the multi-colored and multi-ethnic mosaic that is America more diversified than it is here in Southern California. To get around efficiently, you need to learn Spanish, Japanese, Korean, Portuguese, Swahili, and of course “Valley-speak.” The latter is the tough one. I’ve felt like a minority visitor to a foreign country ever since my arrival here.

Tensions between all ethnic groups have been rising for some time. Amazingly, there are some 150,000 gang members in Los Angeles County in 20 different gang organizations. This melting pot simply exploded in a shower of arson, murder, vandalism, looting, and in short — anarchy. The police here have come under a great deal of fire for their lack of response as the riots first broke out, but it seems hard to believe there was much that could be done in the face of such random and widespread violence. Even the fires that were set had to be left to burn for lack of manpower and the fact that rioters were shooting at the fire personnel as they tried to extinguish the blazes.

The verdict in the Rodney King case was certainly not the cause of this entire incident, it merely gave those who felt thy had an axe to grind the cause they needed to revolt against everything they felt is wrong in their society; the cops, the government, their neighbors, themselves. To prove their point, they set their own neighborhoods ablaze in a blind rage and looted local businesses upon which they had depended for jobs and goods. The question that arises is, are these people just ignorant or is their sens of futility so deep that they felt no other course of action was open to them? The answer is, undoubtedly, both.

It seems there have always been those who “have” and those who “have not.” Sure, I work hard and I’d love a new 27-inch color TV, but does the fact that I don’t have one or that I don’t drive a Jaguar make me a “have not?” Funny, sometimes I feel like one!

The impact of the rioting is still really being felt out here. Businesses are suffering tremendously and thousands of people are losing their jobs as a result. The city is likely to lose $3 billion in tourism revenues this year. It would seem that some of L.A.’s residents really gave the local economy a kick in the gut when it was already down. The most tragic thing is how many innocent lives were tainted or destroyed by the actions of a bitter few who could no longer contain their hatred for the establishment of a country that promised so much and delivered so little.

What most people fail to realize is that freedom has a high price. With the opportunity to live and work in a free economy open to so many peoples also comes the “R” word — responsibility. Don’t people realize that the beauty of a country founded upon the rights of the individual is that each person is responsible for the outcome of his/her own situation? And these rights and responsibilities extend to every individual living or working in this country regardless of their ethnic origin. The reality of life in the melting pot is inevitably conflict and culture clash. Each individual must bear the weight of responsibility for his own actions and respect the rights of others to come to this country to pursue their own vision of the American Dream.

Okay, so enough of that. Otherwise, Hollyweird is living up to its name in all respects. The other day we were apartment hunting, and at one apparently nice building we were “interviewed” by this flashy, G-man type manager who didn’t hesitate to flash his semi-automatic pistol to prove to us he was in charge of the place. We decided to continue looking elsewhere!

Well, wish you were here to share in the excitement. With the National Guard troops standing around the city, it’s like “Springtime in Beirut.”