L.A. Noir: The Struggle for the Soul of America's Most Seductive City

The Nation of Islam sent in one of its most prominent leaders too—its “national minister,” Malcolm X. At a press conference at the Statler Hilton Hotel (which Malcolm X began with the sobering words “Seven innocent, unarmed black men were shot in cold blood”), the controversial Black Muslim leader denounced Chief Parker as a man “intoxicated with power and his own ego.”

But Malcolm X wasn’t there for funeral publicity. He was determined to bring the LAPD to justice. Suspecting that police would seek to prosecute the men it had arrested in order to justify the seven shootings, he set to work lining up the services of one of the city’s most respected African American attorneys, Earl Broady. A former policeman and now a proud resident of Beverly Hills, Broady initially rejected these overtures. He thought of Black Muslims as riffraff and saw Parker as a reformer, albeit an autocratic one. However, Malcolm X’s persistence and his lucid explanations of what was at stake—plus the largest retainer fee Broady had ever been offered—eventually prevailed.^*

Malcolm X’s efforts put the NAACP in an awkward situation. Although he was loath to associate his organization with the Nation of Islam, executive director Roy Wilkins suspected there was considerable truth to Malcolm X’s version of what had happened. Eventually, the NAACP decided to join the civil suit. Meanwhile, the LAPD counterattacked. Parker arranged for a group of Negro leaders, many of them ministers hostile to the Black Muslims, to endorse a campaign to eradicate the Nation of Islam. But when the group convened before the county board of supervisors on May 8, protesters shouted them down. Both the ministers and the supervisors were shaken. Not since the days of the Zoot Suit Riots, said one supervisor, had he felt such tension. The ministers decided to amend their request. Now, they proposed to work with the police to eradicate the Nation of Islam and police brutality. Three days later a group of twenty-five ministers met with Chief Parker. But when one of the participants, Rev. H. H. Brookins, broached a recent order to require two officers per car in Negro areas, Chief Parker declared, “I didn’t come here to be lectured,” and stalked out. Horrified, the head of the Police Commission persuaded Parker to return. But at the end of the meeting Parker complained that “the Negro people” seemed unable to conduct a civil exchange with him.

This was too much. Rev. J. Raymond Henderson decided to hold a protest at his Second Baptist Church, one of the largest congregations in the west. On the evening of Sunday, May 13, nearly three thousand people packed the church, among them the exotic Muslim leader from New York, Malcolm X. As a non-Christian, he was not allowed to step into the worship area. But when he rose from his front-row seat and asked to address the audience, Reverand Henderson allowed him to proceed. Malcolm X’s speech was so mesmerizing, an undercover LAPD officer reported, that when Reverend Henderson tried to interrupt his diatribe about police brutality, the reverend’s own congregation booed their minister into silence.

The LAPD was losing the black community.

In early June, a group called the United Clergymen for Central Los Angeles denounced Parker as “anti-Negro” and asked Mayor Yorty to personally investigate complaints of verbal and physical brutality. Parker responded that this was nothing more than an attempt by Communist sympathizers to use the technique of the “Big Lie” against the department. Mayor Yorty rushed to his police chief’s defense.

“I doubt if there is any city in the United States with more Negroes in government than Los Angeles,” Yorty told the press, noting that he himself was a member of the NAACP and that both his civil service and police commissions were dominated by minorities. This was technically true. The Police Commission’s five members did include a black attorney, a Latino doctor, and a Jewish lawyer. But these men hardly served as Parker’s boss. On the contrary, Parker himself had chosen at least one of the minority members, African American attorney Elbert Hudson. As for the constant drumbeat of allegations about police brutality, Yorty dismissed them as “wild and exaggerated” and echoed Parker’s suggestion that they were Communist inspired. That summer Parker flew to Washington, D.C., to brief Attorney General Robert Kennedy on the Black Muslim menace.

Chief Parker ignored—or mocked—those who sought to draw attention to African American grievances. When in early 1963, the Episcopal bishop of California drew attention to “the bad psychological pattern” between police and minority groups, Parker hit back, dismissing the prelate as an uninformed San Franciscan.

“The Negro community here has praised us long and loud,” Parker insisted. “We have the best relationship with Negroes of any big city in America today.”