latimes--2020-01-18--Delta jet fuel dump unlikely to cause long-term health problems, experts say

It ’ s been days since a Delta jet experiencing engine trouble showered homes and schools in southeast Los Angeles with fuel , but Aldo Mauricio has continued to have difficulty breathing .
Mauricio lives on Santa Ana Street in Cudahy just a few hundred feet from Park Avenue Elementary , where more than a dozen schoolchildren and teachers were treated after being doused with jet fuel .
He says he has suffered from allergies for years , but his lingering breathing issues have made him nervous .
“ I would say it ’ s getting worse , ” he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a doctor if his symptoms don ’ t improve soon .
Tuesday ’ s incident has sparked outrage in the area , which has long been at the center of environmental injustices .
It ’ s also prompted concerns from residents who are uncertain about the long-term health and environmental impacts of jet fuel exposure .
In response to public complaints , the South Coast Air Quality Management District sent an inspector to study air quality in the neighborhood this week and on Friday issued a notice of violation to Delta , said @ @ @ @ @ @ @ agency .
Notices of violation can result in civil penalties .
In some cases , the company can choose to implement voluntary measures to reduce emissions or otherwise prevent further violations .
If no settlement is reached , the agency can pursue a civil lawsuit , Whitaker said .
The Los Angeles County Fire Department ’ s hazmat team and the L.A. Unified School District also have performed air tests at several locations around the school .
Most commercial planes burn Jet A or Jet A1 fuel , which contain a mixture of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Readings were consistently below the limit of detection for jet fuel chemicals , ” Dr. Cyrus Rangan , director of the Los Angeles Department of Public Health ’ s Toxics Epidemiology Program , wrote in an email .
“ At this time , odors have also dissipated , which is consistent with the chemical characteristics of kerosene-based jet fuel , in that it is expected to evaporate.
” The Federal Aviation Administration , which is investigating the fuel dump , has argued that vapor pollution from jettisoned fuel is negligible when compared with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sources .
Since it ’ s a relatively rare occurrence , the agency contends that fuel dumping does not have major environmental implications .
Still , the department of public health , the county fire department , the Environmental Protection Agency and the U.S. Department of Agriculture are continuing to investigate in an effort to better understand the extent of the exposure and its potential impacts , officials said .
In the meantime , officials have warned people with vegetable gardens and fruit trees to discard any unharvested produce .
There have been @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of short-term exposure to jet fuel , but experts say evidence indicates that symptoms resulting from one-time exposure are temporary .
Those symptoms can include skin and eye irritation , headaches , dizziness and respiratory irritation , according to the Health Protection Agency in the United Kingdom .
Rats that were fed kerosene in studies looking at long-term jet fuel exposure showed no increase in tumors .
The International Agency for Research on Cancer also concluded that there was inadequate evidence to classify kerosene as a human carcinogen .
Studies looking at jet @ @ @ @ @ @ @ can affect the nervous system , but that research involved people who worked around the fuel consistently over long periods of time , said Dr. Ulrike Luderer , the director of the Center for Occupational and Environmental Health at UC Irvine .
“ Exposure in children really hasn ’ t been studied , ” she said .
“ It ’ s such an unusual situation that there wouldn ’ t be a population to study .
Still , we ’ re likely not going to see significant long-term impacts.
” Students who were @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sent home with instructions to clean themselves with soap and water and to thoroughly wash the clothing they were wearing at the time .
The health department suggested that people discard their clothing if the odor continued to linger after several washes .
Cleaning crews from the airline and school district worked overnight to power-wash the outdoor areas around the affected campuses .
While some students returned to school the next day , a few parents kept their children at home for an extra day just to be safe , said Delia Valadez @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Elementary .
Valadez sent both of her boys — ages 7 and 11 — back to school Wednesday , but she second-guessed her decision after teachers sent her oldest son home with severely irritated eyes .
Valadez said she felt safer Thursday than when she rushed to campus to pick up her sons two days earlier .
Still , her worries hadn ’ t completely vanished .
“ I ’ ll be keeping an eye on my boys , ” she said .
Radio transmissions between the Delta pilot and air traffic controllers @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , have raised further questions about why the pilot dumped fuel over such a large swath of populated neighborhoods .
Federal regulators have said fuel dumping should occur in remote areas .
And while the plane was within Federal Aviation Administration guidelines when it dropped the fuel , experts have said the best practice is to discharge at a higher elevation so the liquid dissipates before it hits the ground .
Shortly after the pilot reported trouble with the plane ’ s right engine — just minutes into the flight bound for Shanghai @ @ @ @ @ @ @ whether he needed to dump any fuel .
The pilot responded that he didn ’ t , but about 20 minutes later , he released fuel over Cudahy and neighboring communities while flying at about 2,300 feet .
Delta representative Adrian Gee said Tuesday the pilot was forced to dump fuel over the urban area to reduce the plane ’ s weight before its emergency landing .
When a plane is forced to turn back after takeoff , the weight of a full load of fuel carries a risk of damaging the jet @ @ @ @ @ @ @ landing , said Thomas Anthony , director of USC ’ s aviation safety and security program and a former FAA investigator .
Even if there isn ’ t damage , Anthony said , most airlines try to avoid landing overweight because the situation would force them to inspect the plane , which would put it out of service .
“ In a case like this , if the plane lands full of gas , you have to apply the breaks quickly and you could bust a tire , ” Anthony said .
“ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ It ’ s a balancing of hazards .
”

Student Marianna Torres, 11, center, cries as she evacuates Park Avenue Elementary School after jet fuel fell on the school on Tuesday in Cudahy.
It’s been days since a Delta jet experiencing engine trouble showered homes and schools in southeast Los Angeles with fuel, but Aldo Mauricio has continued to have difficulty breathing.
Mauricio lives on Santa Ana Street in Cudahy just a few hundred feet from Park Avenue Elementary, where more than a dozen schoolchildren and teachers were treated after being doused with jet fuel. He says he has suffered from allergies for years, but his lingering breathing issues have made him nervous.
“I would say it’s getting worse,” he said Thursday. He plans to see a doctor if his symptoms don’t improve soon.
Advertisement
Tuesday’s incident has sparked outrage in the area, which has long been at the center of environmental injustices. It’s also prompted concerns from residents who are uncertain about the long-term health and environmental impacts of jet fuel exposure.
In response to public complaints, the South Coast Air Quality Management District sent an inspector to study air quality in the neighborhood this week and on Friday issued a notice of violation to Delta, said Bradley Whitaker, a spokesman for the agency.
Notices of violation can result in civil penalties. In some cases, the company can choose to implement voluntary measures to reduce emissions or otherwise prevent further violations. If no settlement is reached, the agency can pursue a civil lawsuit, Whitaker said.
The Los Angeles County Fire Department’s hazmat team and the L.A. Unified School District also have performed air tests at several locations around the school.
Most commercial planes burn Jet A or Jet A1 fuel, which contain a mixture of hydrocarbons and are kerosene-type products.
“Readings were consistently below the limit of detection for jet fuel chemicals,” Dr. Cyrus Rangan, director of the Los Angeles Department of Public Health’s Toxics Epidemiology Program, wrote in an email. “At this time, odors have also dissipated, which is consistent with the chemical characteristics of kerosene-based jet fuel, in that it is expected to evaporate.”
Advertisement
The Federal Aviation Administration, which is investigating the fuel dump, has argued that vapor pollution from jettisoned fuel is negligible when compared with pollution from cars, trucks and industrial sources. Since it’s a relatively rare occurrence, the agency contends that fuel dumping does not have major environmental implications.
Still, the department of public health, the county fire department, the Environmental Protection Agency and the U.S. Department of Agriculture are continuing to investigate in an effort to better understand the extent of the exposure and its potential impacts, officials said.
In the meantime, officials have warned people with vegetable gardens and fruit trees to discard any unharvested produce.
There have been few studies looking at the health effects of short-term exposure to jet fuel, but experts say evidence indicates that symptoms resulting from one-time exposure are temporary. Those symptoms can include skin and eye irritation, headaches, dizziness and respiratory irritation, according to the Health Protection Agency in the United Kingdom.
Rats that were fed kerosene in studies looking at long-term jet fuel exposure showed no increase in tumors. The International Agency for Research on Cancer also concluded that there was inadequate evidence to classify kerosene as a human carcinogen.
Studies looking at jet fuel exposure among military personnel suggest it can affect the nervous system, but that research involved people who worked around the fuel consistently over long periods of time, said Dr. Ulrike Luderer, the director of the Center for Occupational and Environmental Health at UC Irvine.
“Exposure in children really hasn’t been studied,” she said. “It’s such an unusual situation that there wouldn’t be a population to study. Still, we’re likely not going to see significant long-term impacts.”
Students who were exposed to the fuel vapor Tuesday were sent home with instructions to clean themselves with soap and water and to thoroughly wash the clothing they were wearing at the time. The health department suggested that people discard their clothing if the odor continued to linger after several washes.
Cleaning crews from the airline and school district worked overnight to power-wash the outdoor areas around the affected campuses. While some students returned to school the next day, a few parents kept their children at home for an extra day just to be safe, said Delia Valadez, who has children at Park Avenue Elementary.
Valadez sent both of her boys — ages 7 and 11 — back to school Wednesday, but she second-guessed her decision after teachers sent her oldest son home with severely irritated eyes.
Valadez said she felt safer Thursday than when she rushed to campus to pick up her sons two days earlier. Still, her worries hadn’t completely vanished.
“I’ll be keeping an eye on my boys,” she said.
Radio transmissions between the Delta pilot and air traffic controllers, obtained by The Times this week, have raised further questions about why the pilot dumped fuel over such a large swath of populated neighborhoods.
Federal regulators have said fuel dumping should occur in remote areas. And while the plane was within Federal Aviation Administration guidelines when it dropped the fuel, experts have said the best practice is to discharge at a higher elevation so the liquid dissipates before it hits the ground.
California Tough questions for Delta after pilots dump jet fuel on schoolchildren Delta says its pilots were forced to lighten their plane’s load prior to an emergency landing at LAX by dumping fuel over a populated area.
Shortly after the pilot reported trouble with the plane’s right engine — just minutes into the flight bound for Shanghai — an air traffic controller asked him whether he needed to dump any fuel. The pilot responded that he didn’t, but about 20 minutes later, he released fuel over Cudahy and neighboring communities while flying at about 2,300 feet.
Delta representative Adrian Gee said Tuesday the pilot was forced to dump fuel over the urban area to reduce the plane’s weight before its emergency landing.
When a plane is forced to turn back after takeoff, the weight of a full load of fuel carries a risk of damaging the jet, and potentially causing safety issues during landing, said Thomas Anthony, director of USC’s aviation safety and security program and a former FAA investigator.
Even if there isn’t damage, Anthony said, most airlines try to avoid landing overweight because the situation would force them to inspect the plane, which would put it out of service.
“In a case like this, if the plane lands full of gas, you have to apply the brakes quickly and you could bust a tire,” Anthony said. “That creates a potential for fire. It’s a balancing of hazards.”


latimes--2020-01-18--Frank Cruz had a short fuse for second-class treatment. So he blazed a path for himself

Chicano history professor .
TV news reporter .
Anchor .
Network executive .
Public broadcasting leader .
Co-founder of one of the nation ’ s first Latino-owned life insurance companies .
And co-creator of the second-largest Spanish-language TV network in the country — Telemundo .
On a recent Friday afternoon inside his Laguna Niguel home , Frank Cruz , now 80 , looked back at his extensive life — from his boyhood in Tucson ’ s Barrio Hollywood , to his post-Air Force days at East Los Angeles College , to the succession of achievements he details in his memoir @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The Adventures of Telemundo Co-founder Frank H. Cruz , ” co-authored by Rita Joiner Soza .
Over his long career , Cruz has infiltrated spaces where few Latinos had stepped foot before — namely , media spaces that ignored the diverse and growing Latino population in Los Angeles .
But this wasn ’ t his plan as a boy back in Tucson .
As he puts it , Cruz likes to say he got into journalism “ totally by accident.
” The year was 1971 .
Cruz was chair and professor for Cal @ @ @ @ @ @ @ department , when he received a call out of the blue from KABC-TV news director Bill Fyffe offering him a job .
“ He asked me : ‘ Are you interested in news ?
’ And I said , ‘ Sir , I ’ m not a journalist .
I ’ m a historian , ’ ” Cruz recalled .
But Fyffe , known for popularizing the Eyewitness News format , was persuasive .
He told Cruz he wanted him to do “ the very same thing you did on that Chicano series.
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ I & II , ” a groundbreaking , 20-part series on Chicano heritage that Cruz and other Latino professors had created for KNBC-TV .
Fyffe had taken a look at the growing Latino audience in Southern California and decided he needed a reporter from the community to cover the issues important to those viewers .
“ It was tempting to me because Watergate was running rampant and you could do a lot with television in those days , and I kept saying to myself : ‘ 120 students a semester at Long Beach @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to reach thousands , ’ ” Cruz said .
He figured if it didn ’ t work out , he could go back to teaching .
At first , things went well at KABC .
Cruz gave Fyffe what he asked for : stories on Latino issues .
That focus , however , led some viewers to see his reporting as too narrow and some at KABC nicknamed him and a fellow Chicano colleague “ Spic and Span.
” In 1975 , after three years at the station , Fyffe let Cruz go @ @ @ @ @ @ @ TV home .
A chance encounter at a party with the powerful sports and entertainment agent Ed Hookstratten led to Cruz accepting representation with the agent and a new contract with KNBC-TV as a reporter .
“ Why me ?
” Cruz asked Hookstratten after the agent said he wanted to take on the fired reporter .
Hookstratten told Cruz that two Latino men had played crucial roles in Hookstratten ’ s success , and he wanted to pay it forward .
Cruz stayed at KNBC-TV for a decade and became an anchor @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , “ I began my education in the business of television production over the next 10 years.
” “ In those days … Latino TV journalists were our celebrities , ” said Felix Gutierrez , a journalism professor emeritus at USC who first met Cruz in 1969 in Lincoln Heights .
“ This was before Eva Longoria or [ other ] TV stars .
We didn ’ t have our people in movies , on TV shows , on sports and things like this , ” Gutierrez added .
“ So the only @ @ @ @ @ @ @ proper role were the people who were giving the news.
” For the next several decades , Cruz lived many lives at a time when few Latinos were publicly visible , turning his frustrations about the media ’ s lack of Latino representation into propane to transform it : “ I ’ ve had a short fuse for second-class citizenship , for second-class treatment .
I never liked that at all.
” In the mid-1980s , he applied his local news experience to co-founding KVEA , the city ’ s second Spanish-language TV @ @ @ @ @ @ @ founding of Telemundo in 1987 .
“ He was very energetic .
Very community minded , ” said Antonia Hernandez , CEO and president of California Community Foundation .
She met Cruz in the mid-1970s when she was a young attorney and he a young reporter .
“ He was very committed to reporting what was happening in underserved communities , specifically the Latino community at that time.
” In 1994 , President Bill Clinton appointed Cruz to the Corporation for Public Broadcasting , becoming the first person of color to hold that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ my drive to penetrate those entities and to be in a position of power so that you can influence those decisions , ” Cruz said .
He spent 12 years on the board and became its chairman , a position that enabled him to make a difference in programming decisions .
One morning while sipping coffee and reading the newspaper , Cruz ran across CBS ’ fall lineup .
“ They picked up all these different dramas ... and they didn ’ t pick up ‘ American Family , ’ ” he recalled @ @ @ @ @ @ @ lives of a Latino family in L.A. “ The pride in me said , ‘ Call , and maybe we can get it.
’ ” So he called CBS boss Les Moonves and asked if public broadcasting could have it .
“ And he said , ‘ Frank , go ahead .
Have it .
Just give us credit for the first show.
’ ” “ American Family ” aired in 2002 and was the first series to feature a majority Latino cast , including Edward James Olmos , Constance Marie , Esai @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Michael Peña and Kate Del Castillo .
Had a Chicano not been chair of CPB , it would ’ ve never dawned on another person to ask for the show , said Cruz .
“ We ’ re not going to change society until we get Latinos in there , into those positions of leadership so that they can dictate that kind of change , ” he added , his impassioned voice rising slightly .
It took Cruz decades to finally tell his story , and some nudging from friends and family @ @ @ @ @ @ @ International Latino Book Awards from the nonprofit Latino Literacy Now .
“ He has the ability to look ahead , ” said Gutierrez , “ to see what isn ’ t there that should be there and then finding a way to make it happen or help others make it happen.
” Cruz is aware of his legacies , in shedding light to Latino communities .
Yet he doesn ’ t boast .
He wears humility on his sleeve .
And he thanks his roots for that .
He credits his accomplishments and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ role model ” with an unmatched entrepreneurial spirit : his widowed mother , Rutila “ Ruth ” Osuna Peralta , who at 24 was raising solo two young boys and running a restaurant , Columbia Cafe .
( Cruz ’ s father died of meningitis before he was born ) .
He worked there for some years , a job that instilled in him a work ethic that developed his self-confidence , he said .
The responsibilities nourished the self-esteem and self-assuredness that catapulted him into the highest ranks of his very distinct @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and I was accomplishing things and doing things , but to brag about it was never one of my strong suits .
I did not want to do that or like to do that , ” he said matter-of-factly .
But telling his story , he realized , served a historic purpose .
And if it could help influence and inspire young Latinos and Latinas to pursue their own dreams and curiosities , then all the more reason to tell it .
Looking back , there ’ s only one thing Cruz would @ @ @ @ @ @ @ thing I ’ ve often thought of , because it had intrigued me , I probably could ’ ve gotten a law degree.
” For now , he ’ s busy enough as a board member for the James Irvine Foundation and as a trustee for his alma mater , USC , where he ’ s served for almost 20 years .
“ It has been a tough period for me , ” he said , referring to the school ’ s recent scandals .
It ’ s not anything he can ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ are marked with countless hard fights and plenty more victories .
He ’ s content for now doing what he does .
Enjoying simple pleasures like gardening and cooking for his family .
And reflecting on his achievements while sharing what he ’ s learned : to initiate that invitation , or say “ yes ” to it .
“ You ’ ll have a meeting with someone , you ’ ll have a luncheon with someone , you ’ ll go to a lecture , you ’ ll read a book … @ @ @ @ @ @ @ have curiosity , you ’ ll say ‘ Gee , I ’ d like to try that , ’ or ‘ Why not ?
’ ” Heck , that ’ s how the seed for Telemundo spawned .
Over a cup of coffee .

Chicano history professor. TV news reporter. Anchor. Network executive. Public broadcasting leader. Co-founder of one of the nation’s first Latino-owned life insurance companies. And co-creator of the second-largest Spanish-language TV network in the country — Telemundo.
On a recent Friday afternoon inside his Laguna Niguel home, Frank Cruz, now 80, looked back at his extensive life — from his boyhood in Tucson’s Barrio Hollywood, to his post-Air Force days at East Los Angeles College, to the succession of achievements he details in his memoir “Straight Out of Barrio Hollywood: The Adventures of Telemundo Co-founder Frank H. Cruz,” co-authored by Rita Joiner Soza.
Over his long career, Cruz has infiltrated spaces where few Latinos had stepped foot before — namely, media spaces that ignored the diverse and growing Latino population in Los Angeles. But this wasn’t his plan as a boy back in Tucson. As he puts it, Cruz likes to say he got into journalism “totally by accident.”
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The year was 1971. Cruz was chair and professor for Cal State Long Beach’s Chicano Studies department, when he received a call out of the blue from KABC-TV news director Bill Fyffe offering him a job.
“He asked me: ‘Are you interested in news?’ And I said, ‘Sir, I’m not a journalist. I’m a historian,’” Cruz recalled. But Fyffe, known for popularizing the Eyewitness News format, was persuasive. He told Cruz he wanted him to do “the very same thing you did on that Chicano series.” He was talking about “Chicano I & II,” a groundbreaking, 20-part series on Chicano heritage that Cruz and other Latino professors had created for KNBC-TV. Fyffe had taken a look at the growing Latino audience in Southern California and decided he needed a reporter from the community to cover the issues important to those viewers.
“It was tempting to me because Watergate was running rampant and you could do a lot with television in those days, and I kept saying to myself: ‘120 students a semester at Long Beach State; here’s a chance to reach thousands,’” Cruz said. He figured if it didn’t work out, he could go back to teaching.
At first, things went well at KABC. Cruz gave Fyffe what he asked for: stories on Latino issues. That focus, however, led some viewers to see his reporting as too narrow and some at KABC nicknamed him and a fellow Chicano colleague “Spic and Span.” In 1975, after three years at the station, Fyffe let Cruz go.
But he quickly found a new TV home. A chance encounter at a party with the powerful sports and entertainment agent Ed Hookstratten led to Cruz accepting representation with the agent and a new contract with KNBC-TV as a reporter.
In those days … Latino TV journalists were our celebrities. — Felix Gutierrez, journalism professor
“Why me?” Cruz asked Hookstratten after the agent said he wanted to take on the fired reporter. Hookstratten told Cruz that two Latino men had played crucial roles in Hookstratten’s success, and he wanted to pay it forward. Cruz stayed at KNBC-TV for a decade and became an anchor at the station where, he said, “I began my education in the business of television production over the next 10 years.”
“In those days … Latino TV journalists were our celebrities,” said Felix Gutierrez, a journalism professor emeritus at USC who first met Cruz in 1969 in Lincoln Heights.
Advertisement
“This was before Eva Longoria or [other] TV stars. We didn’t have our people in movies, on TV shows, on sports and things like this,” Gutierrez added. “So the only ones you saw regularly that had any proper role were the people who were giving the news.”
For the next several decades, Cruz lived many lives at a time when few Latinos were publicly visible, turning his frustrations about the media’s lack of Latino representation into propane to transform it: “I’ve had a short fuse for second-class citizenship, for second-class treatment. I never liked that at all.”
In the mid-1980s, he applied his local news experience to co-founding KVEA, the city’s second Spanish-language TV station. That venture evolved into the founding of Telemundo in 1987.
“He was very energetic. Very community minded,” said Antonia Hernandez, CEO and president of California Community Foundation. She met Cruz in the mid-1970s when she was a young attorney and he a young reporter. “He was very committed to reporting what was happening in underserved communities, specifically the Latino community at that time.”
In 1994, President Bill Clinton appointed Cruz to the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, becoming the first person of color to hold that position.
“It has always been my drive to penetrate those entities and to be in a position of power so that you can influence those decisions,” Cruz said. He spent 12 years on the board and became its chairman, a position that enabled him to make a difference in programming decisions.
One morning while sipping coffee and reading the newspaper, Cruz ran across CBS’ fall lineup. “They picked up all these different dramas ... and they didn’t pick up ‘American Family,’” he recalled of the TV drama that followed the lives of a Latino family in L.A. “The pride in me said, ‘Call, and maybe we can get it.’”
Frank Cruz co-founded Telemundo, the second-largest provider of Spanish-language content in the U.S. (Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)
So he called CBS boss Les Moonves and asked if public broadcasting could have it.
“And he said, ‘Frank, go ahead. Have it. Just give us credit for the first show.’”
“American Family” aired in 2002 and was the first series to feature a majority Latino cast, including Edward James Olmos, Constance Marie, Esai Morales, Rachel Ticotin, Sonia Braga, Michael Peña and Kate Del Castillo.
Had a Chicano not been chair of CPB, it would’ve never dawned on another person to ask for the show, said Cruz.
“We’re not going to change society until we get Latinos in there, into those positions of leadership so that they can dictate that kind of change,” he added, his impassioned voice rising slightly.
It took Cruz decades to finally tell his story, and some nudging from friends and family. The memoir was recognized at the International Latino Book Awards from the nonprofit Latino Literacy Now.
“He has the ability to look ahead,” said Gutierrez, “to see what isn’t there that should be there and then finding a way to make it happen or help others make it happen.”
Cruz is aware of his legacies, in shedding light to Latino communities. Yet he doesn’t boast. He wears humility on his sleeve. And he thanks his roots for that.
He credits his accomplishments and hard-work ethic to “a very powerful role model” with an unmatched entrepreneurial spirit: his widowed mother, Rutila “Ruth” Osuna Peralta, who at 24 was raising solo two young boys and running a restaurant, Columbia Cafe. (Cruz’s father died of meningitis before he was born). He worked there for some years, a job that instilled in him a work ethic that developed his self-confidence, he said. The responsibilities nourished the self-esteem and self-assuredness that catapulted him into the highest ranks of his very distinct careers.
“I went through life and I was accomplishing things and doing things, but to brag about it was never one of my strong suits. I did not want to do that or like to do that,” he said matter-of-factly.
But telling his story, he realized, served a historic purpose. And if it could help influence and inspire young Latinos and Latinas to pursue their own dreams and curiosities, then all the more reason to tell it.
Looking back, there’s only one thing Cruz would’ve done differently. “One thing I’ve often thought of, because it had intrigued me, I probably could’ve gotten a law degree.”
For now, he’s busy enough as a board member for the James Irvine Foundation and as a trustee for his alma mater, USC, where he’s served for almost 20 years. “It has been a tough period for me,” he said, referring to the school’s recent scandals.
It’s not anything he can’t handle. His life and history are marked with countless hard fights and plenty more victories. He’s content for now doing what he does. Enjoying simple pleasures like gardening and cooking for his family.
And reflecting on his achievements while sharing what he’s learned: to initiate that invitation, or say “yes” to it.
“You’ll have a meeting with someone, you’ll have a luncheon with someone, you’ll go to a lecture, you’ll read a book … if you’re inquisitive and you have curiosity, you’ll say ‘Gee, I’d like to try that,’ or ‘Why not?’”
Heck, that’s how the seed for Telemundo spawned. Over a cup of coffee.


latimes--2020-01-18--Cheating scandal leaves Dodgers fans feeling tagged out at home

It ’ s so difficult for lifelong Dodgers fan Joseph Daniels to talk about that magical October night in 2017 , when his boys in blue clinched a spot in their first World Series in 29 years .
Daniels was there , at Wrigley Field , for Game 5 of the National League Championship Series against the Chicago Cubs .
He was part of that blue-clad Dodgers crowd that just wanted to bask in the euphoria , that chanted “ We ’ re not leaving !
” in the stands even after the stadium lights went down .
“ It @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , ” said Daniels , a 32-year-old diesel mechanic from Crestline .
“ I was born in 1987 , and the last one we won was in 1988 .
Watching baseball that long and never getting that far — it was a great feeling.
” It never made sense to Daniels that his Dodgers went on to lose the World Series to the Houston Astros .
That is , until this week , when Major League Baseball released a report detailing how the Astros illegally used technology to steal opposing teams ’ pitching @ @ @ @ @ @ @ season .
Managers were fired ; fines and additional punishments were issued .
Other shoes — or baseball cleats — are likely to fall .
But that ’ s not enough for many Dodgers fans , especially after they learned that the Boston Red Sox , who beat the Dodgers in the 2018 World Series , also are under investigation for alleged cheating .
“ There needs to be some kind of asterisk on those years , 2017 and 2018 , ” Daniels said .
“ No one won.
” Dodgers fans say @ @ @ @ @ @ @ victory and of the steep cost of those World Series tickets — and many believe that Major League Baseball should strip the Astros of their championship .
On Tuesday , the L.A. City Council is scheduled to vote on a resolution demanding that MLB award both the 2017 and 2018 titles to Los Angeles .
“ Our role is to raise our voice for something that we feel is a moral crisis , ” said City Councilman Gil Cedillo , one of the sponsors of the resolution .
“ You see the challenges @ @ @ @ @ @ @ people that don ’ t play by the rules .
We don ’ t want to make cheating the new normal.
“ Cedillo , whose district includes Dodger Stadium , and Councilman Paul Koretz each wrote separate , individual resolutions this week , without knowing the other man had done so .
After they realized what had happened , they came together and co-sponsored the current resolution .
“ We can ’ t allow the game to be treated this way with such an egregious example of cheating and not have a dogged @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I think this resolution makes the point that this is not just some people talking .
The whole city officially feels wounded and offended.
” Desiree Garcia , co-owner of the Dodgers fan group Pantone 294 — named after the official shade of Dodger blue — said the last few days have been a roller coaster of emotions .
They ’ re angry .
They ’ re sad .
They ’ re in denial .
“ We have the strong , loyal fan base , ” Garcia said .
“ The majority of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ our grandparents on TV .
It ’ s one of those things we ’ ve all grown up with and learned to love , and when baseball is affected it ’ s not just a Dodger thing .
It ’ s a fan thing in general.
” But Garcia , and many others , she said , are just trying to stay positive and focus on the approaching season .
She hopes the whole ugly situation just fires up the Dodgers , “ lights a fire under their butts ” and propels them @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for so long , she said .
Garcia said devastated fans need to keep in perspective that the players themselves are hurting as well .
MLB has told teams to not comment on the situation .
That did not stop players across the majors , including Dodgers outfielder Cody Bellinger and pitcher Alex Wood , from lamenting on Twitter .
“ For the sake of the game , I hope this isn ’ t true , ” Bellinger tweeted .
“ If true , there needs to be major consequences to the players @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the game !
!
!
” Joshua Zonni , 21 , of Chino Hills , said his heart broke as he sat in Dodger Stadium during Game 7 of the 2017 World Series and watched the Astros celebrate on the field .
It was the first time he had seen his team play for a championship .
The Dodgers ’ 1988 World Series victory happened 10 years before he was born .
In 2017 , Zonni said , he respected the Astros and “ gave them props ” for having the better team @ @ @ @ @ @ @ thinks MLB should give Los Angeles the title .
Barring that , he said , the Astros should be stripped of the championship at “ bare minimum.
” But the damage is done , he said : The Astros robbed him and fellow Dodgers fans of a possibly once-in-a-lifetime experience , and that ’ s something they can ’ t get back .
“ Anyone would agree that when a competitor cheats , the organization who plays fair is entitled to the championship , ” Zonni said .
“ But either way , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ watching your team win it live.
” Daniel Juarez , another Dodgers fan , sees it a little differently .
Juarez , 24 , has worked at the Dodgers Clubhouse in Universal CityWalk for about two years and remembers how packed the fan apparel store was during the World Series .
The scandal , he said , is unfortunate , especially since fans worked hard to be able to afford the expensive tickets .
Still , the North Hollywood resident doesn ’ t think L.A. should be awarded the championship .
“ We @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s over with and done , ” Juarez said .
“ Dodgers fans are the most loyal fans in baseball .
We want a ring , but there ’ s nothing we can do about it .
If they vacate the title , that will be justice for the fans and Los Angeles.
” “ You can ’ t do a redo , and the teams have changed since then , ” she said .
“ I think Houston getting reprimanded is good , and they should also vacate the title.
” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ too doesn ’ t want a 2017 or 2018 World Series trophy .
“ I don ’ t like handouts , ” he said .
“ I want the feeling when we win a World Series to be the most exciting moment of my life.
” That night in Chicago , when a World Series win seemed as if it was a given , Daniels had roamed the stadium in a state of pure joy with his uncle , Albert Bujanda of Yucaipa , who carried a homemade sign reading : “ Airfare @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Hotel Room = $ 300 .
Ticket to NLCS = $ 600 .
Watching Your Boys in Blue Clinch : Priceless !
” A few days later , Daniels attended a World Series game at Dodgers Stadium with his father and his sister-in-law .
Their left-field tickets cost about $ 1,200 apiece .
The Dodgers lost that night , which hurt badly enough before the cheating news .
“ That ’ s money we ’ re not going to get back , ” Daniels said .
“ The good thing is I can @ @ @ @ @ @ @ World Series with my dad .
But it makes it hurt even more .
”

It’s so difficult for lifelong Dodgers fan Joseph Daniels to talk about that magical October night in 2017, when his boys in blue clinched a spot in their first World Series in 29 years.
Daniels was there, at Wrigley Field, for Game 5 of the National League Championship Series against the Chicago Cubs. He was part of that blue-clad Dodgers crowd that just wanted to bask in the euphoria, that chanted “We’re not leaving!” in the stands even after the stadium lights went down.
“It was surreal that we were actually going,” said Daniels, a 32-year-old diesel mechanic from Crestline. “I was born in 1987, and the last one we won was in 1988. Watching baseball that long and never getting that far — it was a great feeling.”
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Now, it’s a gut punch.
It never made sense to Daniels that his Dodgers went on to lose the World Series to the Houston Astros. That is, until this week, when Major League Baseball released a report detailing how the Astros illegally used technology to steal opposing teams’ pitching signs in home games during the 2017 season.
Managers were fired; fines and additional punishments were issued. Other shoes — or baseball cleats — are likely to fall.
But that’s not enough for many Dodgers fans, especially after they learned that the Boston Red Sox, who beat the Dodgers in the 2018 World Series, also are under investigation for alleged cheating.
“There needs to be some kind of asterisk on those years, 2017 and 2018,” Daniels said. “No one won.”
Dodgers fans say they were robbed — of both sweet victory and of the steep cost of those World Series tickets — and many believe that Major League Baseball should strip the Astros of their championship.
On Tuesday, the L.A. City Council is scheduled to vote on a resolution demanding that MLB award both the 2017 and 2018 titles to Los Angeles.
Benjamin Rodriguez sports his Dodger blue top hat before Game 2 of the World Series at Dodger Stadium in 2017. (Hailey Branson-Potts / Los Angeles Times)
“Our role is to raise our voice for something that we feel is a moral crisis,” said City Councilman Gil Cedillo, one of the sponsors of the resolution. “You see the challenges we have in Washington when we have people that don’t play by the rules. We don’t want to make cheating the new normal.“
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Cedillo, whose district includes Dodger Stadium, and Councilman Paul Koretz each wrote separate, individual resolutions this week, without knowing the other man had done so. After they realized what had happened, they came together and co-sponsored the current resolution.
“We can’t allow the game to be treated this way with such an egregious example of cheating and not have a dogged response,” Koretz said. “I think this resolution makes the point that this is not just some people talking. The whole city officially feels wounded and offended.”
Desiree Garcia, co-owner of the Dodgers fan group Pantone 294 — named after the official shade of Dodger blue — said the last few days have been a roller coaster of emotions. They’re angry. They’re sad. They’re in denial.
“We have the strong, loyal fan base,” Garcia said. “The majority of us have grown up watching baseball with our grandparents on TV. It’s one of those things we’ve all grown up with and learned to love, and when baseball is affected it’s not just a Dodger thing. It’s a fan thing in general.”
Dodgers manager Dave Roberts pulls pitcher Clayton Kershaw out of the game against the Houston Astros in Game 5 of the 2017 World Series at Minute Maid Park in Houston. (Wally Skalij / Los Angeles Times)
But Garcia, and many others, she said, are just trying to stay positive and focus on the approaching season. She hopes the whole ugly situation just fires up the Dodgers, “lights a fire under their butts” and propels them to the victory they’ve deserved for so long, she said.
Garcia said devastated fans need to keep in perspective that the players themselves are hurting as well.
MLB has told teams to not comment on the situation. That did not stop players across the majors, including Dodgers outfielder Cody Bellinger and pitcher Alex Wood, from lamenting on Twitter.
“For the sake of the game, I hope this isn’t true,” Bellinger tweeted. “If true, there needs to be major consequences to the players. That completely ruins the integrity of the game!!!”
Joshua Zonni, 21, of Chino Hills, said his heart broke as he sat in Dodger Stadium during Game 7 of the 2017 World Series and watched the Astros celebrate on the field.
It was the first time he had seen his team play for a championship. The Dodgers’ 1988 World Series victory happened 10 years before he was born.
In 2017, Zonni said, he respected the Astros and “gave them props” for having the better team. Not anymore.
Zonni said he thinks MLB should give Los Angeles the title. Barring that, he said, the Astros should be stripped of the championship at “bare minimum.” But the damage is done, he said: The Astros robbed him and fellow Dodgers fans of a possibly once-in-a-lifetime experience, and that’s something they can’t get back.
Boston Red Sox third baseman Eduardo Nunez falls into the stands after catching a foul ball hit by Dodgers center fielder Cody Bellinger during the 2018 World Series.
(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)
“Anyone would agree that when a competitor cheats, the organization who plays fair is entitled to the championship,” Zonni said. “But either way, it will never be the same as watching your team win it live.”
Daniel Juarez, another Dodgers fan, sees it a little differently.
Juarez, 24, has worked at the Dodgers Clubhouse in Universal CityWalk for about two years and remembers how packed the fan apparel store was during the World Series. The scandal, he said, is unfortunate, especially since fans worked hard to be able to afford the expensive tickets.
Still, the North Hollywood resident doesn’t think L.A. should be awarded the championship.
“We know we deserve it, but it’s over with and done,” Juarez said. “Dodgers fans are the most loyal fans in baseball. We want a ring, but there’s nothing we can do about it. If they vacate the title, that will be justice for the fans and Los Angeles.”
Ethel Alvavrez, a 35-year-old fan from Whittier, agreed.
“You can’t do a redo, and the teams have changed since then,” she said. “I think Houston getting reprimanded is good, and they should also vacate the title.”
Daniels, of Crestline, said he too doesn’t want a 2017 or 2018 World Series trophy.
“I don’t like handouts,” he said. “I want the feeling when we win a World Series to be the most exciting moment of my life.”
That night in Chicago, when a World Series win seemed as if it was a given, Daniels had roamed the stadium in a state of pure joy with his uncle, Albert Bujanda of Yucaipa, who carried a homemade sign reading: “Airfare Cali to Chicago = $700. Hotel Room = $300. Ticket to NLCS = $600. Watching Your Boys in Blue Clinch: Priceless!”
A few days later, Daniels attended a World Series game at Dodgers Stadium with his father and his sister-in-law. Their left-field tickets cost about $1,200 apiece. The Dodgers lost that night, which hurt badly enough before the cheating news.
“That’s money we’re not going to get back,” Daniels said. “The good thing is I can say I got to go to the World Series with my dad. But it makes it hurt even more.”


latimes--2020-01-18--Are you a fan of old L.A.'s charm? These historic bungalows need a savior with deep pockets

Wanted : A civic-minded lover of Los Angeles history who has ample financial means , isn ’ t afraid of a fixer-upper and is ready to act now .
A charming but worn 1923 bungalow court arranged in a U of four buildings and a garage is on the market just north of Melrose in Beverly Grove .
The Edinburgh Bungalow Court , whose communal outdoor space is entered through a distinctive arched gateway , is the kind of affordable housing that sprang up to fill a great need as Hollywood movie-making boomed and the area ’ s population exploded @ @ @ @ @ @ @ couldn ’ t yet afford houses all their own , but it offered some of their niceties : front porches , built-in desks , Dutch-themed decorative tiles .
For its embodiment of a once-popular L.A. architectural form and its association with a key time in our city ’ s history , the Spanish Colonial Revival complex on the corner of Edinburgh and Waring avenues was designated Los Angeles historic-cultural monument No .
1105 in 2016 — initiated by the city ’ s own planning department and unanimously approved by the City Council .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ In 58 years , only 1,158 historic-cultural monuments have been named .
But here ’ s what gives the Edinburgh Bungalow Court ’ s story a particular L.A. twist : Despite that designation and the ardent , relentless neighborhood activism that fueled it , the complex is still under threat .
The status doesn ’ t prevent demolition .
It just slows down the process by requiring numerous studies and approvals , allowing time for owners to have a change of heart .
That hasn ’ t happened here , and now if @ @ @ @ @ @ @ escrow by the beginning of March , the old complex is almost certain to be razed .
Years of fighting to preserve it will be for naught .
And what will be the outcome ?
Eight previously rent-stabilized one-bedroom units — whose remaining tenants were paid to leave under the Ellis Act in 2015 — will be replaced by eight three-story private homes on their own small lots , likely sold at prices far beyond the old tenants ’ reach .
A complex that steadily provided affordable housing for close to a century @ @ @ @ @ @ @ midst of an affordable housing crunch that has helped to drive a homelessness crisis .
I ’ m telling you about this in hope that someone out there might have a yen for a bungalow court .
Heather Fox and Brian Harris , the neighborhood activists who have led the campaign to make that happen , asked me to help them get the word out .
I also think it ’ s worth pausing to consider what is happening as a case study — because it is happening often in the city ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ we find a way to hit pause and have a civic conversation about what we ’ re sacrificing and to what end ?
If you read my column , you know that I ’ m a fan of history and texture .
I prefer eclectic and old to new and boxy and bland .
But I also understand that , in order to get more housing , some land now used to house few will have to be used to house many .
That really isn ’ t the case with the Edinburgh @ @ @ @ @ @ @ by the way , is on sale for $ 4.7 million .
That ’ s over market price .
It ’ s what the owners , through their limited liability company , BLDG Edinburgh LLC , have agreed to accept to recoup costs in a deal put together late last summer by the office of Councilman Paul Koretz .
The owners agreed to modify plans for what they would build — creating more traditional-looking cream-colored Spanish-style facades with light blue trim instead of the boxy red , white and gray buildings they first @ @ @ @ @ @ @ six months to find a buyer before proceeding .
Fox and Harris agreed in turn not to object to or badmouth their project .
I reached out to one of the owners and we exchanged messages , but I never got him on the phone .
Meanwhile , Fox and Harris didn ’ t do any badmouthing to me .
They simply outlined the history of their preservation campaign and asked for help to try to summon a savior .
They also explained how they got to this point .
For more than @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , which bought the property in 2014 for $ 2.6 million , has been fighting to tear down the bungalows .
For those same years , the neighborhood activists fought to save them from the wrecking ball .
They knocked on doors .
They got petition signatures .
They attended meeting after meeting , hired a lawyer , went to hearing after hearing and recruited many others to go with them .
They ’ d even tried previously to find a preservation-minded buyer to buy the place at a price the owners would @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Koretz ’ s office stood up for the bungalow courts .
So did numerous preservation organizations , including the L.A .
Conservancy .
And as the owners ’ development plans made their way through committees , they were getting denied .
But denials generated appeals , and there was no end in sight .
Meanwhile the bungalows sat behind a green construction fence , boarded up and unloved and often visited by homeless people .
Some neighbors complained about urban blight , which was sure to erode support for preservation over time @ @ @ @ @ @ @ many ways developers end up winning .
It ’ s called demolition by neglect .
Fox and Harris said they didn ’ t want to do harm to the neighborhood they love .
And they wanted one last shot to preserve the bungalows .
They found a buyer willing to pay $ 1.8 million short of the owners ’ asking price .
They started a GoFundMe campaign to make up the difference but raised only $ 790 .
The other day , they took me around their low-slung neighborhood , where almost every @ @ @ @ @ @ @ other 1920s Spanish-style buildings still stand .
I saw a toddler following a ball down the sidewalk and a cat scurrying across a bungalow ’ s old awning .
Neighbors stopped to talk .
People told me about how they used to walk by the bungalow court and see people eating together or gardening or playing guitar , how they loved its neighborly community feeling .
They showed me an old Spanish-style building around the corner from the bungalow court that , with public and private money , had been moved over piece @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to provide affordable housing for the elderly in a neighborhood that celebrated its style .
There we visited Selma Kaufer , 85 and overjoyed to be living for $ 700 a month in a vintage courtyard apartment .
Fox and Harris dreamed out loud to me about similar futures for the bungalows — such as bridge housing or housing for homeless women who might find comfort in the communal setting .
Anyone out there ?
Anyone listening ?
You ’ d be welcomed as a neighborhood hero .

Brian Harris and Heather Fox have tried for more than four years to save the Edinburgh Bungalow Court.
Wanted: A civic-minded lover of Los Angeles history who has ample financial means, isn’t afraid of a fixer-upper and is ready to act now.
A charming but worn 1923 bungalow court arranged in a U of four buildings and a garage is on the market just north of Melrose in Beverly Grove.
The Edinburgh Bungalow Court, whose communal outdoor space is entered through a distinctive arched gateway, is the kind of affordable housing that sprang up to fill a great need as Hollywood movie-making boomed and the area’s population exploded. It was built for those who couldn’t yet afford houses all their own, but it offered some of their niceties: front porches, built-in desks, Dutch-themed decorative tiles.
Advertisement
For its embodiment of a once-popular L.A. architectural form and its association with a key time in our city’s history, the Spanish Colonial Revival complex on the corner of Edinburgh and Waring avenues was designated Los Angeles historic-cultural monument No. 1105 in 2016 — initiated by the city’s own planning department and unanimously approved by the City Council.
That’s no small thing. In 58 years, only 1,158 historic-cultural monuments have been named.
But here’s what gives the Edinburgh Bungalow Court’s story a particular L.A. twist: Despite that designation and the ardent, relentless neighborhood activism that fueled it, the complex is still under threat. The status doesn’t prevent demolition. It just slows down the process by requiring numerous studies and approvals, allowing time for owners to have a change of heart.
That hasn’t happened here, and now if there’s no new buyer in escrow by the beginning of March, the old complex is almost certain to be razed. Years of fighting to preserve it will be for naught.
And what will be the outcome? Eight previously rent-stabilized one-bedroom units — whose remaining tenants were paid to leave under the Ellis Act in 2015 — will be replaced by eight three-story private homes on their own small lots, likely sold at prices far beyond the old tenants’ reach.
A complex that steadily provided affordable housing for close to a century will be gone. This in the midst of an affordable housing crunch that has helped to drive a homelessness crisis.
I’m telling you about this in hope that someone out there might have a yen for a bungalow court. Heather Fox and Brian Harris, the neighborhood activists who have led the campaign to make that happen, asked me to help them get the word out.
I also think it’s worth pausing to consider what is happening as a case study — because it is happening often in the city’s desirable middle.
Shouldn’t we find a way to hit pause and have a civic conversation about what we’re sacrificing and to what end?
Advertisement
If you read my column, you know that I’m a fan of history and texture. I prefer eclectic and old to new and boxy and bland. But I also understand that, in order to get more housing, some land now used to house few will have to be used to house many.
That really isn’t the case with the Edinburgh Bungalow Court.
The bungalow court, by the way, is on sale for $4.7 million. That’s over market price. It’s what the owners, through their limited liability company, BLDG Edinburgh LLC, have agreed to accept to recoup costs in a deal put together late last summer by the office of Councilman Paul Koretz. The owners agreed to modify plans for what they would build — creating more traditional-looking cream-colored Spanish-style facades with light blue trim instead of the boxy red, white and gray buildings they first proposed. They gave Fox and Harris six months to find a buyer before proceeding. Fox and Harris agreed in turn not to object to or badmouth their project.
I reached out to one of the owners and we exchanged messages, but I never got him on the phone.
Meanwhile, Fox and Harris didn’t do any badmouthing to me. They simply outlined the history of their preservation campaign and asked for help to try to summon a savior. They also explained how they got to this point.
For more than four years now, BLDG Edinburgh LLC, which bought the property in 2014 for $2.6 million, has been fighting to tear down the bungalows. For those same years, the neighborhood activists fought to save them from the wrecking ball. They knocked on doors. They got petition signatures. They attended meeting after meeting, hired a lawyer, went to hearing after hearing and recruited many others to go with them. They’d even tried previously to find a preservation-minded buyer to buy the place at a price the owners would accept. But nothing had come together.
Koretz’s office stood up for the bungalow courts. So did numerous preservation organizations, including the L.A. Conservancy. And as the owners’ development plans made their way through committees, they were getting denied. But denials generated appeals, and there was no end in sight.
Meanwhile the bungalows sat behind a green construction fence, boarded up and unloved and often visited by homeless people. Some neighbors complained about urban blight, which was sure to erode support for preservation over time.
It’s one of the many ways developers end up winning. It’s called demolition by neglect.
Fox and Harris said they didn’t want to do harm to the neighborhood they love. And they wanted one last shot to preserve the bungalows. They found a buyer willing to pay $1.8 million short of the owners’ asking price. They started a GoFundMe campaign to make up the difference but raised only $790.
The other day, they took me around their low-slung neighborhood, where almost every building is two stories high and many other 1920s Spanish-style buildings still stand. I saw a toddler following a ball down the sidewalk and a cat scurrying across a bungalow’s old awning. Neighbors stopped to talk. People told me about how they used to walk by the bungalow court and see people eating together or gardening or playing guitar, how they loved its neighborly community feeling.
They showed me an old Spanish-style building around the corner from the bungalow court that, with public and private money, had been moved over piece by piece from Westwood in the 1980s to provide affordable housing for the elderly in a neighborhood that celebrated its style. There we visited Selma Kaufer, 85 and overjoyed to be living for $700 a month in a vintage courtyard apartment.
Fox and Harris dreamed out loud to me about similar futures for the bungalows — such as bridge housing or housing for homeless women who might find comfort in the communal setting.
Anyone out there? Anyone listening? You’d be welcomed as a neighborhood hero.


latimes--2020-01-19--Op-Ed: California's forgotten slave history

Separated by just 60 miles along the I-10 , Los Angeles and San Bernardino feel worlds apart .
The former boasts some of the richest urban developments and residential pockets in the nation .
The latter — a “ broken city , ” as this newspaper put it in 2015 — struggled through five years of bankruptcy and municipal dysfunction .
But their roles in this California tale of two cities were once reversed .
Before the Civil War , San Bernardino was the most prosperous and fastest-growing settlement in Southern California .
San Bernardino ’ s early success rested @ @ @ @ @ @ @ : Mormonism and slavery .
In 1851 , some 450 Latter-day Saints — Mormons — were sent by their church from Utah to establish a colony in what we call the Inland Empire .
Within several years , the settlement ’ s population skyrocketed to more than 3,000 — at least as big as , if not bigger , than Los Angeles .
The pioneers plotted a town , established a municipal government and created the separate County of San Bernardino .
To transform arid land into a thriving agricultural settlement , the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that they had brought with them from Utah , as well as an untold number of coerced Native American laborers .
Slaveholders occupied the upper echelons of the Mormon hierarchy in San Bernardino .
According to U.S. census data and the records of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints , the colony ’ s co-founder and its bishop owned slaves .
One of San Bernardino ’ s high counselors , Robert Mays Smith , did too .
In fact , Smith claimed 14 enslaved women and children , making him the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Far West .
Although most Mormons hailed from free states , the leadership of the LDS Church welcomed slaveholding converts in the 1840s and ’ 50s .
Slaveholders were among the first settlers in what would become the territory of Utah , which was organized in 1850 .
In 1852 , the Mormon-dominated territorial legislature passed a law innocuously called “ An Act in Relation to Service.
” With the measure , Utah became the first Far Western territory to legalize African American slavery .
When Mormon slaveholders crossed the border into California @ @ @ @ @ @ @ California ’ s Constitution of 1850 outlawed slavery , but its Legislature and courts , dominated by migrants from the South , defended coercive labor practices in the state .
Well into the 1850s , the slaveholders of San Bernardino operated openly , free from legal interference .
To supplement their African American workforce , Mormons purchased and “ adopted ” Indian children .
By the early 1850s , both California and Utah had legalized Native American servitude .
“ An Act for the Relief of Indian Slaves and Prisoners ” allowed Utah @ @ @ @ @ @ @ children in their households for up to 20 years .
Those children were generally required to work to pay back the price of their own purchase .
Through a similar law , white Californians secured Indian minors as domestic wards .
African Americans and Native Americans occupied the lowest rungs of a strict social and political hierarchy in San Bernardino .
According to LDS custom , church leaders exercised a monopoly on religious and civil offices alike .
All San Bernardino County officials were Mormons .
The LDS colonists ’ stable and well-regulated @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Los Angeles .
Between 1850 and 1859 , according to Yale historian John Mack Faragher , L.A. County witnessed 200 homicides out of a total population of several thousand .
Few if any American cities had a higher murder rate .
From that standpoint , California ’ s first “ broken city ” was Los Angeles , not San Bernardino .
Antebellum San Bernardino rose rapidly , but it fell even faster .
The source of the town ’ s stability — its Mormon hierarchy — became its greatest liability .
By the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the LDS Church , disaffected Saints and non-Mormons challenged the colony ’ s leaders .
When the settlement ’ s co-founders — its kingpins — threatened to seize land without compensation , opposition intensified .
Brigham Young , dismayed by the unrest , recalled the faithful to Utah in 1857 .
Within a year , 1,400 Mormons left California .
Church authority and the institution of slavery in San Bernardino unraveled simultaneously .
Robert Mays Smith was among the dissenters .
When he attempted to leave for Texas with his slaves in late @ @ @ @ @ @ @ writ of habeas corpus .
The court required him to establish that he had a right to remove his bondspeople from the state .
He fled instead of appearing in court , and 14 African American women and children finally walked free , six years after California technically outlawed slavery .
One former Smith slave , Biddy Mason , moved to L.A. , where she became a nurse , a real estate investor , a religious leader and a philanthropist .
She tended to prisoners and orphans , funded L.A. ’ s first @ @ @ @ @ @ @ its first African American church .
As the city boomed in the late 19th century , so too did her fortune .
When she died in 1891 , Mason was worth an estimated $ 300,000 ( roughly $ 8.5 million today ) .
In many ways , her remarkable life mirrored the shift in opportunity and wealth from San Bernardino to Los Angeles .
Despite the dramatic sweep of her life and the significance of her legacy , Mason and the other enslaved laborers of California have largely slipped from public consciousness .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ historic landmark ) pays tribute to the LDS migrants who settled San Bernardino .
But there is nothing to commemorate the city ’ s slaveholding origins .
The bondspeople of San Bernardino , African American and Native American , deserve recognition .
Their labor was crucial to what was once Southern California ’ s richest agricultural settlement .
And their presence testifies to an overlooked chapter in U.S. history , when the long arm of slavery reached across the continent and laid claim to California .
Sarah Barringer Gordon is a professor of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Pennsylvania .
Kevin Waite is an assistant professor of history at Durham University .
They are co-directing a project on Biddy Mason and the African American origins of Los Angeles , with funding from the National Endowment for the Humanities .

Separated by just 60 miles along the I-10, Los Angeles and San Bernardino feel worlds apart. The former boasts some of the richest urban developments and residential pockets in the nation. The latter — a “broken city,” as this newspaper put it in 2015 — struggled through five years of bankruptcy and municipal dysfunction. But their roles in this California tale of two cities were once reversed. Before the Civil War, San Bernardino was the most prosperous and fastest-growing settlement in Southern California.
San Bernardino’s early success rested on a pair of seemingly incongruous forces: Mormonism and slavery.
In 1851, some 450 Latter-day Saints — Mormons — were sent by their church from Utah to establish a colony in what we call the Inland Empire. Within several years, the settlement’s population skyrocketed to more than 3,000 — at least as big as, if not bigger, than Los Angeles.
The pioneers plotted a town, established a municipal government and created the separate County of San Bernardino. To transform arid land into a thriving agricultural settlement, the Saints exploited dozens of enslaved African Americans that they had brought with them from Utah, as well as an untold number of coerced Native American laborers.
Advertisement
Slaveholders occupied the upper echelons of the Mormon hierarchy in San Bernardino. According to U.S. census data and the records of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the colony’s co-founder and its bishop owned slaves. One of San Bernardino’s high counselors, Robert Mays Smith, did too. In fact, Smith claimed 14 enslaved women and children, making him the largest slaveholder in the continent’s Far West.
Although most Mormons hailed from free states, the leadership of the LDS Church welcomed slaveholding converts in the 1840s and ’50s. Slaveholders were among the first settlers in what would become the territory of Utah, which was organized in 1850. In 1852, the Mormon-dominated territorial legislature passed a law innocuously called “An Act in Relation to Service.” With the measure, Utah became the first Far Western territory to legalize African American slavery.
When Mormon slaveholders crossed the border into California, they entered a free state. California’s Constitution of 1850 outlawed slavery, but its Legislature and courts, dominated by migrants from the South, defended coercive labor practices in the state. Well into the 1850s, the slaveholders of San Bernardino operated openly, free from legal interference.
To supplement their African American workforce, Mormons purchased and “adopted” Indian children. By the early 1850s, both California and Utah had legalized Native American servitude. “An Act for the Relief of Indian Slaves and Prisoners” allowed Utah’s white residents to keep Native children in their households for up to 20 years. Those children were generally required to work to pay back the price of their own purchase. Through a similar law, white Californians secured Indian minors as domestic wards.
African Americans and Native Americans occupied the lowest rungs of a strict social and political hierarchy in San Bernardino. According to LDS custom, church leaders exercised a monopoly on religious and civil offices alike. All San Bernardino County officials were Mormons.
The LDS colonists’ stable and well-regulated government contrasted sharply with that of neighboring Los Angeles. Between 1850 and 1859, according to Yale historian John Mack Faragher, L.A. County witnessed 200 homicides out of a total population of several thousand. Few if any American cities had a higher murder rate. From that standpoint, California’s first “broken city” was Los Angeles, not San Bernardino.
Antebellum San Bernardino rose rapidly, but it fell even faster. The source of the town’s stability — its Mormon hierarchy — became its greatest liability. By the mid-1850s, chafing under the authority of the LDS Church, disaffected Saints and non-Mormons challenged the colony’s leaders. When the settlement’s co-founders — its kingpins — threatened to seize land without compensation, opposition intensified. Brigham Young, dismayed by the unrest, recalled the faithful to Utah in 1857. Within a year, 1,400 Mormons left California.
Advertisement
Church authority and the institution of slavery in San Bernardino unraveled simultaneously. Robert Mays Smith was among the dissenters. When he attempted to leave for Texas with his slaves in late 1855, he was served with a writ of habeas corpus. The court required him to establish that he had a right to remove his bondspeople from the state. He fled instead of appearing in court, and 14 African American women and children finally walked free, six years after California technically outlawed slavery.
One former Smith slave, Biddy Mason, moved to L.A., where she became a nurse, a real estate investor, a religious leader and a philanthropist. She tended to prisoners and orphans, funded L.A.’s first elementary school for black children and co-founded its first African American church. As the city boomed in the late 19th century, so too did her fortune. When she died in 1891, Mason was worth an estimated $300,000 (roughly $8.5 million today). In many ways, her remarkable life mirrored the shift in opportunity and wealth from San Bernardino to Los Angeles.
Despite the dramatic sweep of her life and the significance of her legacy, Mason and the other enslaved laborers of California have largely slipped from public consciousness. The Mormon Trail Monument (a state historic landmark) pays tribute to the LDS migrants who settled San Bernardino. But there is nothing to commemorate the city’s slaveholding origins.
The bondspeople of San Bernardino, African American and Native American, deserve recognition. Their labor was crucial to what was once Southern California’s richest agricultural settlement. And their presence testifies to an overlooked chapter in U.S. history, when the long arm of slavery reached across the continent and laid claim to California.
Sarah Barringer Gordon is a professor of law and history at the University of Pennsylvania. Kevin Waite is an assistant professor of history at Durham University. They are co-directing a project on Biddy Mason and the African American origins of Los Angeles, with funding from the National Endowment for the Humanities.


latimes--2020-01-18--Actor Alan Alda and Scripps Research will transform scientists into master storytellers

For all of their skill in the laboratory and classroom , scientists aren ’ t always great at imparting their ideas to the public , policymakers and donors .
It ’ s a cultural thing .
Historically , science — especially the life sciences — hasn ’ t placed a premium on speaking to the masses .
Scripps Research in La Jolla announced Thursday that it will partner with one of the nation ’ s great storytellers , Emmy Award-winning actor Alan Alda , to teach scientists and medical professionals to communicate more effectively .
Scripps is becoming the West @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a company that teaches communication skills using the Alda Method , which heavily relies on improvisational theater techniques .
Alda wanted to expand his New York company and was enamored of Scripps Research , a cog in one of the largest science and medical research communities in the country .
“ It ’ s extraordinary that such an institution has decided to partner with us and have a facility on their campus that will be an attractive place for scientists to come , ” Alda told the San Diego Union-Tribune .
The 83-year-old @ @ @ @ @ @ @ disease , is best known for an acting career that includes his role as Hawkeye Pierce in the TV series “ M*A*S*H ” and his portrayal of a divorce attorney in “ Marriage Story , ” which received six Oscar nominations Monday .
But he is also noted for his work as a science educator .
He was host of the PBS series “ Scientific American Frontiers , ” wrote a science book , “ If I Understood You , Would I Have This Look on My Face ?
” and has a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ created the Alan Alda Center for Communicating Science at Stony Brook University in New York , which gave rise to his communications company .
It has trained 15,000 science leaders nationally .
Alda ’ s work earned him the National Academy of Science ’ s Public Welfare Medal in 2016 .
He spends a lot of time improving and expanding the training program , which is conducted mostly in two-day workshops by teachers from various fields .
“ We are able to help scientists talk in a way that people not only understand @ @ @ @ @ @ @ lives , ” Alda said .
“ The public benefits by having a better understanding of what should be pursued with government funding , and by being let in on the beauty of nature.
” National surveys and studies have shown that the public is interested in science and medicine , and that many people firmly grasp both .
But many also struggle .
A 2018 National Science Board survey revealed that much of the public does not understand basic facts about such things as genes , antibiotics and evolution .
A lack @ @ @ @ @ @ @ So is the fast-changing nature of technology .
In recent years , the field has created such complexities as CRISPR-Cas9 , a genome editing tool .
The training workshops will begin in June and initially cater to people who work in the life sciences , one of California ’ s largest industries .
The program is expected to serve broad areas of science and medicine .
The workshops will emphasize improvisational theater games and exercises to teach scientists to be better listeners and observers , especially in reading people ’ s body language @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to discuss their work in clear , compelling , relatable ways , and to find more empathy for the people they serve .
The techniques arose , in part , from the moments of deep human interaction Alda was able to strike with some of his guests when he hosted “ Scientific American Frontiers.
” “ What I was doing was practicing what I had learned in improvisation , ” Alda said .
“ The essence of it is not making things up .
The essence is the contact you make with the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , the responsiveness .
You say the next thing not because you thought of it but because the other person makes you say it because you ’ re so responsive .
“ It helps develop a message that ’ s just right for the person you ’ re talking to.
” Dozens of Scripps Institute researchers have already had the training , including Bruce Torbett , an immunologist who said the workshops “ really help you get your point across with people and to judge your audience and readjust what you say.
” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of the teaching .
But he remains deeply involved , partly because he doesn ’ t want disease to define him .
“ I know from personal experience that , in the public mind , when you get a diagnosis of Parkinson ’ s [ you might think ] life is over , ” Alda said .
“ This is not good for patients because they are liable to give in and not do exercise or take the medications that are available to hold off the progression of the disease .
“ I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in the beginning , it is not as bad as it will get later .
You can do everything that gives you pleasure in life .
If you do that , you can take advantage of holding off the worst for quite a while , and wait for more progress to be made [ in treating Parkinson ’ s ] .
”

Actor Alan Alda, who has hosted such shows as “Scientific American Frontiers,” is going to help scientists on the West Coast become better storytellers. His communications training company will work out of Scripps Research in La Jolla.
For all of their skill in the laboratory and classroom, scientists aren’t always great at imparting their ideas to the public, policymakers and donors.
It’s a cultural thing. Historically, science — especially the life sciences — hasn’t placed a premium on speaking to the masses.
But change is coming.
Scripps Research in La Jolla announced Thursday that it will partner with one of the nation’s great storytellers, Emmy Award-winning actor Alan Alda, to teach scientists and medical professionals to communicate more effectively.
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Scripps is becoming the West Coast home of Alda Communication Training, a company that teaches communication skills using the Alda Method, which heavily relies on improvisational theater techniques.
Alda wanted to expand his New York company and was enamored of Scripps Research, a cog in one of the largest science and medical research communities in the country.
“It’s extraordinary that such an institution has decided to partner with us and have a facility on their campus that will be an attractive place for scientists to come,” Alda told the San Diego Union-Tribune.
The 83-year-old Alda, who has Parkinson’s disease, is best known for an acting career that includes his role as Hawkeye Pierce in the TV series “M*A*S*H” and his portrayal of a divorce attorney in “Marriage Story,” which received six Oscar nominations Monday.
But he is also noted for his work as a science educator. He was host of the PBS series “Scientific American Frontiers,” wrote a science book, “If I Understood You, Would I Have This Look on My Face?” and has a podcast, “Clear+Vivid.”
He also created the Alan Alda Center for Communicating Science at Stony Brook University in New York, which gave rise to his communications company. It has trained 15,000 science leaders nationally.
Alda’s work earned him the National Academy of Science’s Public Welfare Medal in 2016.
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He spends a lot of time improving and expanding the training program, which is conducted mostly in two-day workshops by teachers from various fields.
“We are able to help scientists talk in a way that people not only understand but see as relevant to their own lives,” Alda said.
“The public benefits by having a better understanding of what should be pursued with government funding, and by being let in on the beauty of nature.”
National surveys and studies have shown that the public is interested in science and medicine, and that many people firmly grasp both. But many also struggle. A 2018 National Science Board survey revealed that much of the public does not understand basic facts about such things as genes, antibiotics and evolution.
A lack of education is a big factor. So is the fast-changing nature of technology. In recent years, the field has created such complexities as CRISPR-Cas9, a genome editing tool.
The training workshops will begin in June and initially cater to people who work in the life sciences, one of California’s largest industries. The program is expected to serve broad areas of science and medicine.
The workshops will emphasize improvisational theater games and exercises to teach scientists to be better listeners and observers, especially in reading people’s body language. They also will be taught how to discuss their work in clear, compelling, relatable ways, and to find more empathy for the people they serve.
The techniques arose, in part, from the moments of deep human interaction Alda was able to strike with some of his guests when he hosted “Scientific American Frontiers.”
“What I was doing was practicing what I had learned in improvisation,” Alda said. “The essence of it is not making things up. The essence is the contact you make with the other person — the openness you have, the responsiveness. You say the next thing not because you thought of it but because the other person makes you say it because you’re so responsive.
“It helps develop a message that’s just right for the person you’re talking to.”
Dozens of Scripps Institute researchers have already had the training, including Bruce Torbett, an immunologist who said the workshops “really help you get your point across with people and to judge your audience and readjust what you say.”
Alda’s staff will do most of the teaching. But he remains deeply involved, partly because he doesn’t want disease to define him.
“I know from personal experience that, in the public mind, when you get a diagnosis of Parkinson’s [you might think] life is over,” Alda said.
“This is not good for patients because they are liable to give in and not do exercise or take the medications that are available to hold off the progression of the disease.
“I want to communicate the idea that, in the beginning, it is not as bad as it will get later. You can do everything that gives you pleasure in life. If you do that, you can take advantage of holding off the worst for quite a while, and wait for more progress to be made [in treating Parkinson’s].”
Robbins writes for the San Diego Union-Tribune.


latimes--2020-01-19--Number of bodies found buried in Tijuana home now up to 4

Tijuana authorities found two more bodies beneath a dirt floor in a home where a missing Garden Grove couple was recently found buried , authorities said .
Police were investigating the deaths of Jesus Lopez Guillen , 70 , and his wife , Maria Teresa Guillen , 65 , whose bodies were found last week in the Obrera neighborhood home when they discovered the bodies of another man and woman , according to the attorney general ’ s office of Baja California .
In the latest grisly discovery , the two additional bodies were found beneath a dirt floor in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ said .
There was sand and mud on the male corpse and a white powder , believed to be lime , on the female corpse .
Fire department personnel , assisted by a police canine , were instrumental in finding the bodies , which are believed to have been buried longer than the bodies of the Guillens , authorities said .
On Thursday , the Guillens ’ son-in-law , identified only as Santiago N. , was arrested in connection with their deaths , authorities said .
He told investigators he had dropped them @ @ @ @ @ @ @ collected about $ 6,500 in rent on properties they owned in Tijuana , but police say his account has been inconsistent .
The Guillens were last seen Jan. 10 .
They were reported missing by their daughter .
The attorney general ’ s office said in a statement it was continuing to investigate the deaths of the Guillens and to identify the other bodies and determine the cause of death .

Tijuana authorities found two more bodies beneath a dirt floor in a home where a missing Garden Grove couple was recently found buried, authorities said.
Police were investigating the deaths of Jesus Lopez Guillen, 70, and his wife, Maria Teresa Guillen, 65, whose bodies were found last week in the Obrera neighborhood home when they discovered the bodies of another man and woman, according to the attorney general’s office of Baja California.
In the latest grisly discovery, the two additional bodies were found beneath a dirt floor in a room in the home, authorities said. There was sand and mud on the male corpse and a white powder, believed to be lime, on the female corpse. Fire department personnel, assisted by a police canine, were instrumental in finding the bodies, which are believed to have been buried longer than the bodies of the Guillens, authorities said.
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On Thursday, the Guillens’ son-in-law, identified only as Santiago N., was arrested in connection with their deaths, authorities said. He told investigators he had dropped them off at the border after they had collected about $6,500 in rent on properties they owned in Tijuana, but police say his account has been inconsistent.
The Guillens were last seen Jan. 10. They were reported missing by their daughter.
The attorney general’s office said in a statement it was continuing to investigate the deaths of the Guillens and to identify the other bodies and determine the cause of death.
Fry writes for the San Diego Union-Tribune.


latimes--2020-01-19--A baby gorilla is born at L.A. Zoo, the first in over 20 years

A gorilla was born at the Los Angeles Zoo this weekend , the first such birth in more than 20 years , officials announced .
N ’ djia , a 25-year-old endangered western lowland gorilla , gave birth early Saturday .
The mother and her infant spent their first day together bonding privately , zoo officials said .
The gorilla birth is the first at the L.A .
Zoo since that of Hope in January 1996 .
Hope was moved to the zoo in Albuquerque in April 1996 and then to the Dallas Zoo in February 2017 ; she died @ @ @ @ @ @ @ birth is a step forward for western lowland gorilla conservation , ” Denise Verret , chief executive and director of the L.A .
Zoo , said in a statement .
“ For the first time in over two decades , Angelenos will now have a unique opportunity to watch this gorilla baby grow up at the L.A.
Zoo.
” Starting Sunday , N ’ djia and the newborn will have a chance to join the baby ’ s father , a 32-year-old silverback named Kelly , and the rest of the troop at @ @ @ @ @ @ @ can also elect to remain behind the scenes , away from public viewing , zoo officials said .
But visitors are expected to be able to catch a glimpse of the pair over the next couple of weeks as they begin to venture out into their surroundings .

A gorilla was born at the Los Angeles Zoo this weekend, the first such birth in more than 20 years, officials announced.
N’djia, a 25-year-old endangered western lowland gorilla, gave birth early Saturday. The mother and her infant spent their first day together bonding privately, zoo officials said.
The gorilla birth is the first at the L.A. Zoo since that of Hope in January 1996. Hope was moved to the zoo in Albuquerque in April 1996 and then to the Dallas Zoo in February 2017; she died there in November.
“This historic birth is a step forward for western lowland gorilla conservation,” Denise Verret, chief executive and director of the L.A. Zoo, said in a statement. “For the first time in over two decades, Angelenos will now have a unique opportunity to watch this gorilla baby grow up at the L.A. Zoo.”
Starting Sunday, N’djia and the newborn will have a chance to join the baby’s father, a 32-year-old silverback named Kelly, and the rest of the troop at the Campo Gorilla Reserve exhibit.
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They can also elect to remain behind the scenes, away from public viewing, zoo officials said.
But visitors are expected to be able to catch a glimpse of the pair over the next couple of weeks as they begin to venture out into their surroundings.