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

Chief Parker’s response, in a letter written on May 12, was telling. “The Los Angeles Police Department has never experienced an insurgency situation,” he replied. Moreover, it never expected to. “There have been no occurrences of civil disturbances nor serious conditions which might initiate such a situation in this city.” He concluded the letter by referring Smith to cities that had.

It was a curious response. Parker’s apocalyptic imagination was well developed. Just a few weeks after receiving Smith’s letter, for instance, Parker sat down for a radio interview with ultra-right-wing radio host Dean Man-ion. The tone of their conversation was dark. Parker told his listeners that America was in the midst of a slow-motion socialist revolution: “The difficulty encountered in this socialistic trend is that it is a revolution and it is not entirely a bloodless one, I assure you.” Yet somehow the prophet of social anarchy seemed unwilling to accept the possibility that anarchy might erupt in his own city, even after it already had.

      THURSDAY MORNING dawned uneasy. The violence had stopped, but no one knew what would happen that night. Eager to defuse the tensions, the Los Angeles County Human Relations Committee scheduled a 2 p.m. community meeting at Athens Park, eleven blocks from the scene of the rioting. Community leaders from across Watts and, indeed, the city appeared—before a huge throng of print, television, and radio reporters—to urge the residents of Watts not to resort to violence. The meeting started well. Even the combative Mrs. Frye urged residents “to help me and the others calm this situation down so that we will not have a riot tonight.” But as the event continued, a different mood swept through the crowd. Appeals to calm gave way to expressions of grievance. In a moment of confusion, an African American high school student dashed up to the microphones and informed the crowd that black youths would attack the white areas adjacent to Watts that evening. His remarks were widely carried by the media.

Chief Parker did not attend the meeting. Nor would he agree to meet with those whom he dismissively called the “so-called” Negro leaders, who he believed were attempting to “relieve the Negro people of any responsibility in this situation.” Instead, the chief spoke to the press. His comments were not helpful. When asked about the causes of the unrest, Parker replied that the trouble started “when one person threw a rock, and like monkeys in a zoo, others started throwing rocks.” Calls by assemblyman Mervyn Dymally to announce the immediate establishment of a civilian police review board were dismissed as “a vicious canard.” Parker believed it was now time to meet force with force. After being briefed on what had transpired at the Athens Park meeting, Parker called the adjutant general of the California National Guard to inform him that Los Angeles might well need the Guard. But calling out the Guard was something that only the governor could do and Governor Brown was in Greece on a trip. As a result, the authority to call out the Guard rested with Lt. Gov. Glenn Anderson, who was in Santa Barbara. That evening, Parker called Anderson to brief him on the situation. The lieutenant governor decided to drive back to his house in Los Angeles that evening so he could assess the situation for himself.

At roughly the same time, a delegation of African American activists was meeting with deputy chief Roger Murdock. The activists wanted no visible police presence in Watts that evening. They believed the sight of police would only spur further violence. Instead, they asked the department to deploy only black officers—in civilian clothes and unmarked cars.

Deputy Chief Murdock rejected this proposal out of hand. All day long, he, Daryl Gates, and Inspectors John Powers and Pete Hagan had been working to craft a plan to control South-Central Los Angeles. Their strategy was to deploy units from across the city—as well as roughly 150 deputy sheriffs from the 77th Street station. The hope was that the heavy presence of officers on the street would deter the rioters. Gates would deploy with a contingent of officers to the north of the Imperial Freeway; Inspector John Powers would come in from the south.

      THE EVENING began uneventfully—so much so that Gates and the other inspectors decided to treat themselves to a celebratory dinner. But when Gates arrived at the center of field operations, it was clear that things were going badly, even worse than the night before.