latimes--2020-01-05--In a lifetime on the border, Agent Chancy Arnold has seen it transform

Fresh out of the academy yet still very much an agent-in-training , Chancy Arnold was finally being given a little range .
He and his partner were told to drive on the border road east , familiarize themselves with the rolling hills and unmarked trails that would become their new office .
As they approached the base of Otay Mountain in San Diego County , they came upon a man lying face down in the dirt .
About 50 yards to the south , a flimsy barbed wire fence denoted the U.S.-Mexico border .
Strange , Arnold thought , does @ @ @ @ @ @ @ from us ?
The agents yelled at the man : “ Get up , we can see you !
” Closer inspection revealed the grisly truth : Someone had driven the migrant through the border , ordered him to the ground and put a bullet in the back of his head .
Even as a rookie , Arnold thought he had a pretty good idea of what it would be like to be a Border Patrol agent .
His father had worn the same olive green uniform for as long as he could @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was a shock and a glimpse of the ruthless landscape he was now part of .
That was 1985 , and Arnold is now nearing 35 years with the agency , making him the longest-serving Border Patrol agent in the nation .
The border has changed considerably in that time .
Arnold has watched the terrain transform into one of fences and roads , surveillance cameras and sensors .
He ’ s seen migration patterns turn from single Mexican men to unaccompanied children and asylum-seeking families .
He ’ s had to acknowledge @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he encounters while enforcing the laws and policies he ’ s sworn to uphold .
Most agents retire after 20 to 25 years .
But Arnold always planned to work until the Border Patrol made him leave .
That will be in July , when he turns 57 .
“ Since Day 1 , ” Arnold said , “ I was going to work until the end.
” Introduced to the border at age 3 Arnold was just shy of 3 years old when his father left his job as a roughneck on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Border Patrol in 1965 .
The Arnolds left the northern plains for the dusty borderlands of El Centro .
The year his father joined was a turning point on the southwestern border .
The U.S. bracero program , which had sanctioned agricultural labor by Mexican migrants , had just been shut down .
And the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965 for the first time restricted legal immigration from the Western Hemisphere , including Mexico , while opening it up to Asia and Africa .
Preference was given to those with U.S. citizen @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
But demand for Mexican labor didn ’ t end , and soon migration that once might have been legal was now illegal , creating a large new population of unauthorized immigrants .
The El Centro sector apprehended some 5,300 migrants in 1965 , a figure that more than doubled over the next five years .
In neighboring San Diego , apprehensions rose to 50,600 over the same period .
It wasn ’ t until Arnold was around 21 that he could imagine carving his own path as an agent .
“ What @ @ @ @ @ @ @ borders , securing our nation — appealed to me at the time , ” he recalled .
It also provided for a long-term career , no college degree needed , and the chance to work outdoors .
“ Quite honestly , ” he said , “ it was what I knew.
” On a recent Friday , Arnold made the familiar trek to Arnie ’ s Point , a vista overlooking what used to be one of the most heavily trafficked illegal border crossings .
It looks nothing like it did when he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ down , Arnold — with a military-style crew cut now turned silver — was looking decades into the past .
He could see thousands of migrants gathering in a soccer field that has since been filled in by dirt .
He could see the vendors in the festival-like atmosphere selling last-minute provisions before the nightly surge north .
And he could see agents running through the scrub brush in pursuit .
Catch who you can , process them at the station , come back for more .
Repeat .
That was the pace @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , San Diego accounted for more than 427,000 of the southwest border ’ s 1.2 million apprehensions , the most of any sector .
Just like when his father joined the agency , the southwestern border was at another turning point .
In 1986 , the Immigration Reform and Control Act sought to stem the rising illegal flow by authorizing a 50 % increase in Border Patrol staffing and toughening criminal laws against employers .
At the same time , it provided a pathway for amnesty for some longtime migrant residents , giving @ @ @ @ @ @ @ And the increased manpower was slow to materialize .
It wasn ’ t until 1994 that the roughly 3,000 agents nationwide in the mid-1980s grew to 4,200 , according to Syracuse University ’ s Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse , which gathers federal data .
About 140 of those agents were assigned to Brown Field station when Arnold began .
Their coverage area stretched from just east of the San Ysidro Port of Entry to Otay Mountain .
It was from here that Arnold departed each evening , armed with a six-shooter revolver , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and a radio .
Agents patrolled in American-made SUVs .
The border fence then was nothing more than barbed wire or cable strung between poles .
It didn ’ t stop foot traffic from coming north .
Rather , it was meant to stop vehicle loads of drugs or people .
It worked — sometimes .
“ Working the swing shift , there ’ d be eight or nine vehicle chases going on at the same time , ” Arnold recalled .
“ It ’ d be like a dog fight , trying @ @ @ @ @ @ @ this chase and what ’ s going on with that one.
” Just north of Arnie ’ s Point , finger canyons disappear around the bend .
That ’ s where , in the dense brush , Arnold once hunted for bandits who were hunting for migrants .
The canyons were notoriously violent , a place where robbers could easily hide and prey on those who crossed north .
Rapes , assaults and murder were common .
Arnold was just three years out of the academy when he was picked for the elite @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on this assignment , and gunfights were practically inevitable .
In fact , Arnie ’ s Point was named for one .
It ’ s where Agent Arnie Forsyth was once hit in the buttocks during a shoot-out with bandits .
Arnold got into his first and only gunfight in a canyon farther west .
The detail had intelligence of a two-man ambush operation , where one bandit would hide behind a stand of trees at a T-intersection of two trails while the other would distract passing migrants .
Sure enough , Arnold @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the distractor .
Then the bandit ’ s partner came around from behind with a loaded .45-caliber pistol .
The agents fired .
The bandit was hit ; he survived .
Arnold ’ s rotation on the bandit detail was the second to last before the unit was disbanded .
But he credits the experience for making him a better cop .
“ I think it helped me grow up.
” More substantial fencing starting going up around 1990 to stem the increasing flow of migrants .
But the corrugated landing-mat material , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ like a ladder than a fence .
It was also easily breached with tools .
At the same time , a wave of anti-immigrant sentiment was sweeping the state .
Then-Gov .
Pete Wilson helped push through Proposition 187 , a voter-approved initiative that slashed state services such as healthcare and public education to unauthorized immigrants .
The law was later overturned by a federal judge .
A new strategy was launched in 1994 called Operation Gatekeeper that flooded the San Diego border with agents in three tiers — a highly visible show @ @ @ @ @ @ @ crossing in the first place and catch those who did farther inland .
Apprehensions soared in the first year to more than half A million , then they began to drop off sharply .
From fiscal 1995 to 2005 , overall apprehensions in the sector declined by 76 % .
While some may have been disinclined to make the journey north , however , most just shifted routes east to the less fortified deserts , into the territory Arnold ’ s father had once patrolled .
In the five years after Gatekeeper was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s sector rose from 37,317 to 238,126 .
The shift didn ’ t come as a surprise but was rather a tactical decision by leaders : Push illegal crossings away from large cities and into wilderness areas for easier apprehensions .
But the human cost was high , as the harsher environment claimed thousands of lives over the years .
Following in his father ’ s footsteps , Arnold eventually transitioned into management .
He ’ s covered just about every job in the San Diego sector : supervisor , training officer , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in the prosecutions unit , readying cases for criminal and administrative court .
By then , he had gone back to school , earning a criminal justice degree .
Arnold went to Washington in 2009 for nine months to coordinate care for unaccompanied minors , who in the years preceding had been fleeing to the United States in record numbers .
The waves had sent authorities scrambling to find a way to place the children , mostly teens , in appropriate housing long term while caring for their short-term needs at Border Patrol @ @ @ @ @ @ @ him for his current role .
As assistant chief over prosecutions , asset forfeiture and detentions in the San Diego sector , Arnold has most recently been in charge of mitigating what he calls a “ humanitarian crisis ” that started about a year ago with the surge of Central American caravans arriving at the border to seek asylum .
Most of them are families .
Although some of the migrants follow protocol and present themselves at ports of entry , many see the long wait of metered lines and cross illegally .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ arrested , so they can claim asylum .
Many families ended up staying several days at Border Patrol stations , long past the 72-hour limit , as Immigration and Customs Enforcement — reluctant to release them into the community — determined where to house them next in accordance with a court agreement that set out the terms of detention for children .
“ All our Border Patrol stations are set up , built and designed not for families , not for children , but for single adult males , ” Arnold said .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ longer than we ever intended to hold people in .
People in custody longer require more resources.
” The change in population shifted agents away from patrolling the line and into caretaker roles .
The latest scrutiny comes as a group of doctors urges Customs and Border Protection , the umbrella agency of the Border Patrol , to hold free flu shot clinics in detention centers for migrant children .
Three children have died in detention from the flu in the past year , none in San Diego .
A few weeks ago @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s sector headquarters in Chula Vista , where Arnold is based ; the day ended with six protesters arrested .
The current spotlight on the border is perhaps the most intense it ’ s ever been and has created political and philosophical rifts across the country .
In many ways , it illustrates the deeper divisions facing the nation .
Arnold tries not to let the discord get to him .
“ I know there ’ s always throughout history going to be those individuals who don ’ t agree with who @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” he said .
“ One thing I ’ ve tried to make sure we ’ re focused on is that we conduct ourselves with integrity and as professionals.
” The vast majority of agents are at the mercy of laws , policies and a vast bureaucracy operating high above them .
“ We don ’ t get the luxury to say no to laws we ’ ve been asked to enforce , ” he said .
“ We ’ re going to enforce those laws.
” But not at the expense of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ we ’ re portrayed as not caring about people , ” Arnold said .
“ We do .
Your heart goes out to these people .
We are humans , we do care about the individuals we encounter.
” The Border Patrol is being handed over to a new generation , as agents who came on board during the hiring frenzy of Operation Gatekeeper begin to consider retirement .
But Arnold won ’ t be leaving without first getting a seventh star on the sleeve of his uniform .
He gets one for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I ’ ve never met someone with seven stars in my career , ” he said .
Not even his dad , who retired with four .

Chancy Arnold, assistant patrol chief of the U.S Border Patrol’s San Diego Sector, is the longest serving border patrol agent in the United States.
Fresh out of the academy yet still very much an agent-in-training, Chancy Arnold was finally being given a little range.
He and his partner were told to drive on the border road east, familiarize themselves with the rolling hills and unmarked trails that would become their new office.
As they approached the base of Otay Mountain in San Diego County, they came upon a man lying face down in the dirt. About 50 yards to the south, a flimsy barbed wire fence denoted the U.S.-Mexico border.
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Strange, Arnold thought, does he really think he’s hiding from us?
The agents yelled at the man: “Get up, we can see you!”
He remained still.
Closer inspection revealed the grisly truth: Someone had driven the migrant through the border, ordered him to the ground and put a bullet in the back of his head.
Even as a rookie, Arnold thought he had a pretty good idea of what it would be like to be a Border Patrol agent. His father had worn the same olive green uniform for as long as he could remember. But the discovery that day was a shock and a glimpse of the ruthless landscape he was now part of.
That was 1985, and Arnold is now nearing 35 years with the agency, making him the longest-serving Border Patrol agent in the nation.
The border has changed considerably in that time.
Arnold has watched the terrain transform into one of fences and roads, surveillance cameras and sensors. He’s seen migration patterns turn from single Mexican men to unaccompanied children and asylum-seeking families.
He’s had to acknowledge the humanity and desperation of the people he encounters while enforcing the laws and policies he’s sworn to uphold.
Advertisement
Most agents retire after 20 to 25 years. But Arnold always planned to work until the Border Patrol made him leave. That will be in July, when he turns 57.
“Since Day 1,” Arnold said, “I was going to work until the end.”
Introduced to the border at age 3
Arnold was just shy of 3 years old when his father left his job as a roughneck on a Montana oil rig and joined the Border Patrol in 1965. The Arnolds left the northern plains for the dusty borderlands of El Centro.
The year his father joined was a turning point on the southwestern border. The U.S. bracero program, which had sanctioned agricultural labor by Mexican migrants, had just been shut down. And the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965 for the first time restricted legal immigration from the Western Hemisphere, including Mexico, while opening it up to Asia and Africa. Preference was given to those with U.S. citizen family members or desirable skills and professions.
But demand for Mexican labor didn’t end, and soon migration that once might have been legal was now illegal, creating a large new population of unauthorized immigrants.
The El Centro sector apprehended some 5,300 migrants in 1965, a figure that more than doubled over the next five years. In neighboring San Diego, apprehensions rose to 50,600 over the same period.
It wasn’t until Arnold was around 21 that he could imagine carving his own path as an agent.
“What the Border Patrol represented — securing our borders, securing our nation — appealed to me at the time,” he recalled. It also provided for a long-term career, no college degree needed, and the chance to work outdoors.
“Quite honestly,” he said, “it was what I knew.”
On a recent Friday, Arnold made the familiar trek to Arnie’s Point, a vista overlooking what used to be one of the most heavily trafficked illegal border crossings.
It looks nothing like it did when he was a mop-top rookie.
But gazing down, Arnold — with a military-style crew cut now turned silver — was looking decades into the past.
He could see thousands of migrants gathering in a soccer field that has since been filled in by dirt. He could see the vendors in the festival-like atmosphere selling last-minute provisions before the nightly surge north. And he could see agents running through the scrub brush in pursuit.
Catch who you can, process them at the station, come back for more. Repeat. That was the pace back in those days.
20 years later, he’s an agent
In 1985, San Diego accounted for more than 427,000 of the southwest border’s 1.2 million apprehensions, the most of any sector.
Just like when his father joined the agency, the southwestern border was at another turning point. In 1986, the Immigration Reform and Control Act sought to stem the rising illegal flow by authorizing a 50% increase in Border Patrol staffing and toughening criminal laws against employers. At the same time, it provided a pathway for amnesty for some longtime migrant residents, giving them a chance at legal status.
But illegal immigration continued to grow.
And the increased manpower was slow to materialize. It wasn’t until 1994 that the roughly 3,000 agents nationwide in the mid-1980s grew to 4,200, according to Syracuse University’s Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse, which gathers federal data.
About 140 of those agents were assigned to Brown Field station when Arnold began. Their coverage area stretched from just east of the San Ysidro Port of Entry to Otay Mountain.
It was from here that Arnold departed each evening, armed with a six-shooter revolver, six to 12 spare bullets, handcuffs and a radio. Agents patrolled in American-made SUVs.
The border fence then was nothing more than barbed wire or cable strung between poles. It didn’t stop foot traffic from coming north. Rather, it was meant to stop vehicle loads of drugs or people. It worked — sometimes.
“Working the swing shift, there’d be eight or nine vehicle chases going on at the same time,” Arnold recalled. “It’d be like a dog fight, trying to figure out who’s got this chase and what’s going on with that one.”
Just north of Arnie’s Point, finger canyons disappear around the bend. That’s where, in the dense brush, Arnold once hunted for bandits who were hunting for migrants.
The canyons were notoriously violent, a place where robbers could easily hide and prey on those who crossed north. Rapes, assaults and murder were common.
Arnold was just three years out of the academy when he was picked for the elite bandit detail. The stakes were higher on this assignment, and gunfights were practically inevitable.
In fact, Arnie’s Point was named for one. It’s where Agent Arnie Forsyth was once hit in the buttocks during a shoot-out with bandits.
Arnold got into his first and only gunfight in a canyon farther west.
Shootout on the bandit detail
The detail had intelligence of a two-man ambush operation, where one bandit would hide behind a stand of trees at a T-intersection of two trails while the other would distract passing migrants.
Sure enough, Arnold’s group approached and took down the distractor. Then the bandit’s partner came around from behind with a loaded .45-caliber pistol. The agents fired. The bandit was hit; he survived.
Arnold’s rotation on the bandit detail was the second to last before the unit was disbanded. But he credits the experience for making him a better cop.
“I think it helped me grow up.”
More substantial fencing starting going up around 1990 to stem the increasing flow of migrants. But the corrugated landing-mat material, installed on its side, acted more like a ladder than a fence.
It was also easily breached with tools.
At the same time, a wave of anti-immigrant sentiment was sweeping the state. Then-Gov. Pete Wilson helped push through Proposition 187, a voter-approved initiative that slashed state services such as healthcare and public education to unauthorized immigrants. The law was later overturned by a federal judge.
A new strategy was launched in 1994 called Operation Gatekeeper that flooded the San Diego border with agents in three tiers — a highly visible show of force that would dissuade migrants from crossing in the first place and catch those who did farther inland.
Apprehensions soared in the first year to more than half A million, then they began to drop off sharply. From fiscal 1995 to 2005, overall apprehensions in the sector declined by 76%.
While some may have been disinclined to make the journey north, however, most just shifted routes east to the less fortified deserts, into the territory Arnold’s father had once patrolled.
In the five years after Gatekeeper was launched, apprehensions in El Centro’s sector rose from 37,317 to 238,126.
The shift didn’t come as a surprise but was rather a tactical decision by leaders: Push illegal crossings away from large cities and into wilderness areas for easier apprehensions. But the human cost was high, as the harsher environment claimed thousands of lives over the years.
Following in his father’s footsteps, Arnold eventually transitioned into management.
He’s covered just about every job in the San Diego sector: supervisor, training officer, watch commander. He spent 13 years in the prosecutions unit, readying cases for criminal and administrative court. By then, he had gone back to school, earning a criminal justice degree.
Arnold went to Washington in 2009 for nine months to coordinate care for unaccompanied minors, who in the years preceding had been fleeing to the United States in record numbers. The waves had sent authorities scrambling to find a way to place the children, mostly teens, in appropriate housing long term while caring for their short-term needs at Border Patrol stations.
The experience would help prepare him for his current role.
Change comes amid ‘crisis’
As assistant chief over prosecutions, asset forfeiture and detentions in the San Diego sector, Arnold has most recently been in charge of mitigating what he calls a “humanitarian crisis” that started about a year ago with the surge of Central American caravans arriving at the border to seek asylum. Most of them are families.
Although some of the migrants follow protocol and present themselves at ports of entry, many see the long wait of metered lines and cross illegally. Then they sit and wait to be arrested, so they can claim asylum.
Many families ended up staying several days at Border Patrol stations, long past the 72-hour limit, as Immigration and Customs Enforcement — reluctant to release them into the community — determined where to house them next in accordance with a court agreement that set out the terms of detention for children.
“All our Border Patrol stations are set up, built and designed not for families, not for children, but for single adult males,” Arnold said. “We were holding people in custody longer than we ever intended to hold people in. People in custody longer require more resources.”
The change in population shifted agents away from patrolling the line and into caretaker roles.
The latest scrutiny comes as a group of doctors urges Customs and Border Protection, the umbrella agency of the Border Patrol, to hold free flu shot clinics in detention centers for migrant children. Three children have died in detention from the flu in the past year, none in San Diego.
A few weeks ago, doctors demonstrated outside the Border Patrol’s sector headquarters in Chula Vista, where Arnold is based; the day ended with six protesters arrested.
CBP officials have called vaccine programs in short-term detention “not feasible.”
The current spotlight on the border is perhaps the most intense it’s ever been and has created political and philosophical rifts across the country. In many ways, it illustrates the deeper divisions facing the nation.
Arnold tries not to let the discord get to him.
“I know there’s always throughout history going to be those individuals who don’t agree with who we are or what we do,” he said. “One thing I’ve tried to make sure we’re focused on is that we conduct ourselves with integrity and as professionals.”
The vast majority of agents are at the mercy of laws, policies and a vast bureaucracy operating high above them.
“We don’t get the luxury to say no to laws we’ve been asked to enforce,” he said. “We’re going to enforce those laws.”
But not at the expense of losing their humanity.
‘Your heart goes out’
“I think we’re portrayed as not caring about people,” Arnold said. “We do. Your heart goes out to these people. We are humans, we do care about the individuals we encounter.”
The Border Patrol is being handed over to a new generation, as agents who came on board during the hiring frenzy of Operation Gatekeeper begin to consider retirement.
But Arnold won’t be leaving without first getting a seventh star on the sleeve of his uniform. He gets one for every five years of service.
“I’ve never met someone with seven stars in my career,” he said.
Not even his dad, who retired with four.
Davis writes for the San Diego Union-Tribune


latimes--2020-01-05--Woman wounded in an officer-involved shooting in Alhambra

A female motorist was wounded in an officer-involved shooting early Sunday after she allegedly tried to run down an Alhambra police officer before fleeing the scene , authorities said .
The driver , who suffered a non-life-threatening gunshot wound , and her female passenger , who was injured when their vehicle crashed , were both transported to a local hospital for treatment , according to the Los Angeles County Sheriff ’ s Department .
The unidentified women are in their 20s .
The shooting occurred about 3:30 a.m. in the 2000 block of West Mission Road , according to the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ assisting in the investigation .
Alhambra police officers were patrolling near a local storage facility when they “ contacted the suspects about a burglary investigation , ” according to a Sheriff ’ s Department statement .
It appeared one of the units at the facility had been burglarized .
During the initial contact , the suspects accelerated their vehicle toward one of the officers , and that is when the shooting occurred , the Sheriff ’ s Department said .
The suspects ’ vehicle sped eastbound on Mission Road in Alhambra , then @ @ @ @ @ @ @ struck a retaining wall , ending the pursuit , the department said .
No officers were injured in the incident .
The Sheriff ’ s Homicide Bureau asked anyone with information regarding this incident to call ( 323 ) 890-5500 .

A female motorist was wounded in an officer-involved shooting early Sunday after she allegedly tried to run down an Alhambra police officer before fleeing the scene, authorities said.
The driver, who suffered a non-life-threatening gunshot wound, and her female passenger, who was injured when their vehicle crashed, were both transported to a local hospital for treatment, according to the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department. The unidentified women are in their 20s.
The shooting occurred about 3:30 a.m. in the 2000 block of West Mission Road, according to the Sheriff’s Department, which is assisting in the investigation.
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Alhambra police officers were patrolling near a local storage facility when they “contacted the suspects about a burglary investigation,” according to a Sheriff’s Department statement. It appeared one of the units at the facility had been burglarized.
During the initial contact, the suspects accelerated their vehicle toward one of the officers, and that is when the shooting occurred, the Sheriff’s Department said.
The suspects’ vehicle sped eastbound on Mission Road in Alhambra, then turned southbound on 6th Street and eventually struck a retaining wall, ending the pursuit, the department said.
No officers were injured in the incident.
The Sheriff’s Homicide Bureau asked anyone with information regarding this incident to call (323) 890-5500.


latimes--2020-01-05--Earthquakes: 3.0 quake centered in Brea

Earthquakes: 3.0 quake centered in Brea

A magnitude 3.0 earthquake was reported at 8:28 a.m. Sunday in Brea , according to the U.S. Geological Survey .
The earthquake occurred about a mile from the cities of Fullerton , Rowland Heights , Placentia and Yorba Linda .
In the last 10 days , there have been three earthquakes of magnitude 3.0 or greater centered nearby .
An average of 59 earthquakes with magnitudes of 2.0 to 3.0 occur each year in the Greater Los Angeles area , according to a recent three-year data sample .
The earthquake occurred at a depth of 4.8 miles .
Did you @ @ @ @ @ @ @ you felt to the USGS .
Even if you didn ’ t feel this small earthquake , you never know when the Big One is going to strike .
Ready yourself by following our five-step earthquake preparedness guide and building your own emergency kit .
This story was automatically generated by Quakebot , a computer application that monitors the latest earthquakes detected by the USGS .
A Times editor reviewed the post before it was published .
If you ’ re interested in learning more about the system , visit our list of @ @ @ @

A magnitude 3.0 earthquake was reported at 8:28 a.m. Sunday in Brea, according to the U.S. Geological Survey.
The earthquake occurred about a mile from the cities of Fullerton, Rowland Heights, Placentia and Yorba Linda.
In the last 10 days, there have been three earthquakes of magnitude 3.0 or greater centered nearby.
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An average of 59 earthquakes with magnitudes of 2.0 to 3.0 occur each year in the Greater Los Angeles area, according to a recent three-year data sample.
The earthquake occurred at a depth of 4.8 miles. Did you feel this earthquake? Consider reporting what you felt to the USGS.
Even if you didn’t feel this small earthquake, you never know when the Big One is going to strike. Ready yourself by following our five-step earthquake preparedness guide and building your own emergency kit.
This story was automatically generated by Quakebot, a computer application that monitors the latest earthquakes detected by the USGS. A Times editor reviewed the post before it was published. If you’re interested in learning more about the system, visit our list of frequently asked questions.


latimes--2020-01-05--Behind the story: How a reporter discovered the 'Nipsey Hussle effect'

In the days after Nipsey Hussle was gunned down outside a strip mall near my South Los Angeles home , images of the rapper and community activist flooded social media .
But it was a black and white meme that gave me pause .
Hussle was in a determined stance , his fingers interlocked in front of him , his head tilted slightly , almost as if the photographer captured him in the middle of a head nod .
He was covered in a list of book titles , more than 50 of them .
Some , including “ The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ World and Me ” and “ Rich Dad Poor Dad , ” sat on my bookshelf .
But some I had never heard of .
That meme prompted a reporting journey that ended in this story .
In the months since Hussle was killed in front of his South L.A. store , The Marathon Clothing , a community has emerged .
Fans and followers , I learned , are using the teachings of the rapper and activist to improve themselves and the world around them .
I ’ ve dubbed it the “ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a woman in Wisconsin .
Simran Kaleka , a 31-year-old lawyer , created the meme and gave his fans a way to process their grief .
A few clicks on social media lead me to Kaleka , who said Hussle ’ s death felt like the painful reopening of a wound that hadn ’ t yet healed .
In 2012 , a white supremacist opened fire inside the Sikh temple where her family worshipped in suburban Milwaukee .
Kaleka lost her uncle and five other loved ones , including a friend ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in prayer .
The massacre shook her faith .
She leaned into Hussle ’ s music , to which a friend in Atlanta had introduced her the year before .
“ I fell into probably the darkest place in my life , ” Kaleka said , recounting the days after the mass shooting .
“ Listening to his music was therapeutic and it helped me ascend and helped me navigate.
” Hussle ’ s lyrics in songs such as “ Bigger Than Life , ” in which he says in a slow , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , ” helped Kaleka feel less alone , she said .
“ It was a sense of therapy and motivation and holding yourself accountable and knowing that there ’ s more.
” Then , while Hussle was promoting his first studio album , “ Victory Lap , ” Kaleka noticed that he mentioned books he had read in interviews .
An avid reader herself , Kaleka would jot them down and read them .
She found they had similar tastes .
On April 12 , she posted the meme of Hussle and his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ has been shared about 8,000 times .
It didn ’ t take long for fliers advertising chapters of a book club inspired by the meme to begin popping up , taped to the doors of businesses across neighborhoods of South L.A .
I dropped in on one at Harun Coffee in Leimert Park .
A dozen people had pulled their chairs in a circle to discuss “ PowerNomics ” by Dr. Claud Anderson .
Together , they brainstormed ways to reclaim a community that ’ s slowly being reshaped by the forces of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , I interviewed Malik Muhammad .
At the entrance of his store , Malik Books at the Baldwin Hills Crenshaw Plaza , he had assembled a table with paperback novels from Hussle ’ s reading list .
He also was selling a bundle of four books that he called the “ Nipsey Pack ” that echoed different themes of self-improvement .
He donates a portion of the proceeds from each to scholarships for youths .
“ I felt a connection with him spiritually , morally and mentally , though I never knew him @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of Hussle .
“ We had the same do-for-self and our community attitude.
” Kaleka never knew Hussle either but had a chance to meet him before he was killed .
But when she ran into Hussle during the NBA ’ s All-Star Weekend in Charlotte , N.C. , last February , she didn ’ t introduce herself .
She had such respect for him she didn ’ t want to invade his space .
She now regrets it .
When she learned of Hussle ’ s death , it sent her back @ @ @ @ @ @ @ been in when she lost her uncle and other loved ones .
“ I was in mourning and grieving and literally could not function , ” she said .
“ I had to channel that energy.
” She told me she now sees the chapters of The Marathon Book Club that the meme inspired as part of Hussle ’ s legacy .
“ It ’ s not the end of his victory lap , ” she said , referencing his Grammy-nominated album .
“ Maybe the other part of his victory lap is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ In other words , the marathon continues .

Rahshiene Taha, left, R.J. Harris and Rashad Drakeford at a book club gathering for black men. The group comes together monthly to gain a deeper understanding of rapper and activist Nipsey Hussle by reading and discussing books he read.
In the days after Nipsey Hussle was gunned down outside a strip mall near my South Los Angeles home, images of the rapper and community activist flooded social media. But it was a black and white meme that gave me pause.
Hussle was in a determined stance, his fingers interlocked in front of him, his head tilted slightly, almost as if the photographer captured him in the middle of a head nod.
He was covered in a list of book titles, more than 50 of them. Some, including “The Invisible Man,” “Between the World and Me” and “Rich Dad Poor Dad,” sat on my bookshelf. But some I had never heard of.
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hey y’all. here’s my updated list. i’ll continue revamping it in the thread. keep passing the baton. #TMC 🏁 pic.twitter.com/pzO6GdDMpC — ਸਿਮਰਨ 🇮🇳 (@theSIMSITY) April 17, 2019
That meme prompted a reporting journey that ended in this story.
In the months since Hussle was killed in front of his South L.A. store, The Marathon Clothing, a community has emerged. Fans and followers, I learned, are using the teachings of the rapper and activist to improve themselves and the world around them. I’ve dubbed it the “Nipsey Hussle effect.”
It began with a woman in Wisconsin. Simran Kaleka, a 31-year-old lawyer, created the meme and gave his fans a way to process their grief.
A few clicks on social media lead me to Kaleka, who said Hussle’s death felt like the painful reopening of a wound that hadn’t yet healed.
In 2012, a white supremacist opened fire inside the Sikh temple where her family worshipped in suburban Milwaukee. Kaleka lost her uncle and five other loved ones, including a friend’s mother who was killed while bent forward in prayer.
The massacre shook her faith. She leaned into Hussle’s music, to which a friend in Atlanta had introduced her the year before.
“I fell into probably the darkest place in my life,” Kaleka said, recounting the days after the mass shooting. “Listening to his music was therapeutic and it helped me ascend and helped me navigate.”
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Hussle’s lyrics in songs such as “Bigger Than Life,” in which he says in a slow, melodic chant, “God got me,” helped Kaleka feel less alone, she said. “It was a sense of therapy and motivation and holding yourself accountable and knowing that there’s more.”
Then, while Hussle was promoting his first studio album, “Victory Lap,” Kaleka noticed that he mentioned books he had read in interviews. An avid reader herself, Kaleka would jot them down and read them. She found they had similar tastes.
On April 12, she posted the meme of Hussle and his list of books on Twitter. It has been shared about 8,000 times.
It didn’t take long for fliers advertising chapters of a book club inspired by the meme to begin popping up, taped to the doors of businesses across neighborhoods of South L.A.
I dropped in on one at Harun Coffee in Leimert Park. A dozen people had pulled their chairs in a circle to discuss “PowerNomics” by Dr. Claud Anderson. Together, they brainstormed ways to reclaim a community that’s slowly being reshaped by the forces of gentrification.
As I pursued the story, I interviewed Malik Muhammad. At the entrance of his store, Malik Books at the Baldwin Hills Crenshaw Plaza, he had assembled a table with paperback novels from Hussle’s reading list. He also was selling a bundle of four books that he called the “Nipsey Pack” that echoed different themes of self-improvement. He donates a portion of the proceeds from each to scholarships for youths.
“I felt a connection with him spiritually, morally and mentally, though I never knew him,” Muhammad, 55, said of Hussle. “We had the same do-for-self and our community attitude.”
Kaleka never knew Hussle either but had a chance to meet him before he was killed. But when she ran into Hussle during the NBA’s All-Star Weekend in Charlotte, N.C., last February, she didn’t introduce herself. She had such respect for him she didn’t want to invade his space. She now regrets it.
When she learned of Hussle’s death, it sent her back to that same dark place she had been in when she lost her uncle and other loved ones.
“I was in mourning and grieving and literally could not function,” she said. “I had to channel that energy.”
She told me she now sees the chapters of The Marathon Book Club that the meme inspired as part of Hussle’s legacy.
“It’s not the end of his victory lap,” she said, referencing his Grammy-nominated album. “Maybe the other part of his victory lap is us applying what he taught us.”
In other words, the marathon continues.


latimes--2020-01-05--Nipsey Hussle was a bookworm. Now black men are finding inspiration in what he read

“ How many times as black men have we heard something before and had to bite our tongues ?
” DeRon Cash , his tattooed forearms resting on his knees , curled a paperback revered by the late Nipsey Hussle in his hand .
He didn ’ t really mean it as a question — and the other black men huddled around a coffee table in Boyle Heights knew not to answer .
Once a month , Cash and a group of men come together for The Marathon Book Club — one of several chapters across the country that were @ @ @ @ @ @ @ South Los Angeles clothing store in March .
In the aftermath of his death , fans grasped for ways to honor him .
Some made the pilgrimage to his shop off Slauson Avenue .
Others painted his face in bright hues on the sides of buildings .
A 31-year-old fan from Wisconsin created a meme listing all of the books that Hussle had mentioned in interviews , songs and motivational messages that she had been compiling for years .
It includes self-help bestsellers , cult classics and little-known books by black authors .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ 74 black men and two Latinos make up the four chapters of The Marathon Book Club .
They meet monthly in Oakland , New York and Washington , D.C. , in addition to L.A. , to discuss the books that motivated Hussle .
They include professors , entrepreneurs , corporate executives , investment bankers and at least one former athlete .
Of those in Los Angeles , they have bachelor ’ s degrees , master ’ s degrees in business and doctorates from historically black colleges , private schools and state public universities @ @ @ @ @ @ @ are left at the door , though .
There ’ s no posturing or pretensions .
In this circle , the men can remove the masks that they have to wear in the world .
Here , they can be themselves .
And on this warm summer morning , as so often happens , the book club quickly turned into therapy .
R.J. Harris opened with a confession : He didn ’ t finish the book .
But he had read enough to get the gist , and it got him thinking about @ @ @ @ @ @ @ life .
“ We all have to learn how to [ navigate spaces ] whether we ’ re with our own people or we ’ re in spaces with prominently white people , ” he said .
“ You have to master that skill to be successful in the real world.
” A choir of low “ yeahs ” backed him up .
The men in the group know what it ’ s like to be the only black voice in the room , like the protagonist in that month ’ s book @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the Door.
” The underground classic inspired by author Sam Greenlee ’ s life follows former gang member Daniel Freeman as he works to become the nation ’ s first black CIA officer — or spook .
Freeman eventually quits the agency , uses the spy tactics to mobilize street hustlers in Chicago and wages a war against the American government .
Hussle , born Ermias Asghedom , said in a 2018 interview that he was adopting the book ’ s name for his next album — an album he never got to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ story paralleled Hussle ’ s own ascension from the Rollin ’ 60s Crips street gang to a Grammy-nominated rapper and community activist who inspired a movement through his music and entrepreneurial messages .
He used what he learned growing up in South L.A. to form his own record label , rebuild his Hyde Park neighborhood and create jobs .
“ Finally wiggle out they mazes , find me out in different places , I ’ m the spook by the door , this the infiltration , ” Hussle rapped in “ Blue Laces @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the book ’ s protagonist , who found that the job as a CIA operative did not feed his soul .
As a sports marketer , Harris had roles at the Madison Square Garden Co. , worked with the Boston Red Sox and at the L.A. Football Club before leaving it all behind to launch a tech start-up , Otto .
“ My goals and objectives couldn ’ t be fulfilled in those spaces , ” he said .
“ I didn ’ t feel full.
” Dion Pouncil leaned back in his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ felt that while pursuing a career in baseball .
The programming pushed by society is that rapping , acting , singing or playing ball are the “ only way to make money and how we can get out of the ’ hood , ” he said .
But when Pouncil threw himself into the game , he realized he had little control over his own future .
He was a player , not the owner .
A worker , not the boss .
It wasn ’ t until he closed that chapter and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ company , the Playbook Network , did he find his true calling .
Hussle defined his purpose early in his career .
At Russell Simmons ’ “ Get Your Money Right ” summit in 2006 , he explained why he was avoiding the diamonds , flashy cars and other trappings synonymous with hip-hop .
“ All of that is cool for the image , ” said Hussle , then 21 years old and resembling a young Snoop Dogg .
“ But I ’ d rather invest in some real estate ... a real @ @ @ @ @ @ @ my people.
” Hussle found that the tools he needed to realize his dreams were inside books .
From the branding tome “ Contagious : Why Things Catch On , ” he got the idea to charge $ 100 for his mixtape , which caught the eye of Jay-Z .
In the business book “ The 22 Immutable Laws of Marketing , ” Hussle found the inspiration for his life-is-a-marathon-not-a-sprint mantra that he later simplified into just “ The Marathon.
” In the decades-old “ The Way of the Superior Man , ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ his power as a black man .
Lauren London , Hussle ’ s longtime love and life partner , told The Times days after his death that he would sit in bed with headphones listening to books for hours .
“ We read a lot of books together , ” she said in between sniffs .
“ We inspired each other to be better versions of ourselves .
He was a truth seeker and a truth speaker.
” London said one of the most memorable books in their personal book club was “ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in an interview with Complex magazine as a book “ about the projection of your thoughts into reality.
” Before his death , Hussle was a regular at Eso Won Books , a Leimert Park institution of black literature and culture .
It sold 24 copies of “ 3 Magic Words ” last year .
It didn ’ t sell any the year before .
“ People want to connect and , in a sense , heal ” by reading the books that Hussle read , said Eso Won co-owner Tom Hamilton .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ December 2018 , he perused the shelves for books on Fred Hampton , the Black Panther activist .
He told the clerk he was conducting research for an upcoming documentary on him .
Hussle purchased more than $ 400 worth of books , including a $ 200 Jean-Michel Basquiat coffee-table book , “ Sacred Woman ” by Queen Afua , and several children ’ s novels .
Now , patrons come to Eso Won with Hussle ’ s reading list in hand , and the books he revered are flying off the shelves @ @ @ @ @ @ @ copies of “ Sacred Woman , ” a self-help book about healing a woman ’ s spirit , up from 27 in 2018 ; 67 copies of “ The Spook Who Sat by the Door , ” up from 20 copies the prior year ; and 30 copies of “ The Way of the Superior Man , ” up from a single copy the year before .
These books all educated and empowered Hussle — to release albums , start a record label and hire people with felony records to work at his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ became The Marathon Clothing Store .
All of those were steps in a larger plan to revitalize his Crenshaw district in South L.A. — plans that were cut short when Hussle was gunned down outside his store in broad daylight on March 31 .
Police have described the shooting as the culmination of a personal dispute .
A fledgling rapper , Eric Holder , 29 , has been indicted on one count of murder , two counts of attempted murder and other charges .
The trial is set for March 2020 .
The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sweetened the room in Boyle Heights with a fragrant masculinity .
Author James Baldwin , his likeness painted and mounted on a wall , peered down at the men gathered around the coffee table .
Rashad Drakeford , founder of The Marathon Book Club , gave voice to an internal battle .
The 32-year-old holds a high-level position at a well-respected consumer technology company , but lately he ’ s been feeling like his dreams of helping under-served youths can not be realized there .
“ I ’ m not being heard in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” he said .
“ Now I ’ m at a place where , do I take all the skills , experiences and avenues and apply it to doing good for us ?
That ’ s a hard point to get to.
” “ Mind if I ask , but what ’ s hard now ?
” Rahshiene Taha asked .
“ Money , to be honest , ” Drakeford said , voicing the fears of many aspiring entrepreneurs .
“ Uncertainty.
” Feeling the conversation had focused too much on him , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ This is not a therapy session for me.
” Charles H.F. Davis III , a professor at USC , interjected : “ It ’ s for all of us.
” Trauma , whether from racism or from witnessing or being the victim of crime , is often a daily reality for many black men , according to a 2018 study from researchers at Washington University in St. Louis .
Yet because of a host of social and economic barriers , including religion , cultural misgivings , a lack of access to healthcare @ @ @ @ @ @ @ black men are significantly less likely than any other demographic group to seek mental health treatment , according to Washington University researchers and the National Alliance on Mental Illness .
For years , black men rarely discussed mental health , even among themselves .
But recently there has been a shift that has coincided with the maturation of hip-hop .
In 2016 , Kid Cudi opened up on social media about his battle with depression .
His honesty spawned the hashtag # YouGoodMan to encourage black men to talk about their mental health @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with bipolar disorder .
And Charlamagne tha God talks therapy , trauma and anxiety with some of hip-hop ’ s biggest stars on his nationally syndicated radio show , “ The Breakfast Club.
” In L.A. , Davis says he has been hearing more discussions about mental health in the barbershop and about toxic masculinity in the locker room .
He sees The Marathon Book Club as a microcosm of those conversations .
For so long there has been a warped understanding of manhood , Drakeford said .
“ It used to be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ women you could bag , ” he said .
“ It ’ s OK to talk about issues , [ to ] be vulnerable and fail .
That ’ s the true essence of manhood.
” Together at The Marathon Book Club , in the company of other accomplished , like-minded men at the top of their careers , they can share personal struggles that never make it on social media .
“ Seeing brothers talking about the journey while they are in it makes you realize , ‘ I ’ m not @ @ @ @ @ @ @ said .
“ I ’ m feeling the same thing.
” It was an hour and a half into the meeting before anyone mentioned Hussle ’ s name .
The conversation had turned to sacrifice , and what one must do to move to the next level in their careers , relationships and other areas of their lives .
Cash moved his hands and tattooed forearms toward his right temple , where the word “ believe ” is written .
He got the tattoo in 2015 , inspired by the tattoo Hussle had @ @ @ @ @ @ @ his hairline .
He spoke of waiting tables while he taking acting classes and waiting on his big break .
Hussle did something similar , Cash insisted , as he pivoted from street hustler to a Grammy-nominated musician .
“ When he really decided to lock in , ” Cash said , “ he had to fall back from the streets.
” Pouncil pointed out that personal development requires creating new habits .
“ Are you willing to die for it ?
” he asked , challenging the men ’ s will to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ then spun Pouncil ’ s question on its head : “ What if we ’ re already dying ?
Are you willing to live for it ?
” The men examined their mortality .
They discussed plans to live each day with purpose .
Drakeford pinched the bridge of his nose .
He had a question for Taha , a family man who successfully pivoted from corporate life to that of an entrepreneur .
Do you start a business right now , when you ’ re at the stage in life when you @ @ @ @ @ @ @ married and have kids ?
Or , Drakeford wanted to know , do you wait ?
Taha tells Drakeford he can have it all with the right life partner .
It ’ s possible to do what you love , give back to the community and create generational wealth .
“ What made us have patience is that we realized we ’ re going to be doing this forever , ” he said .
“ That took all the pressure off of it .
We ’ re now not worried about sprinting .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ , in a marathon.
” The room erupted in applause .
Someone yelled , “ OK , Nip !
” The men then packed up their belongings and returned to the outside world with the teachings of Hussle guiding them .

“How many times as black men have we heard something before and had to bite our tongues?”
DeRon Cash, his tattooed forearms resting on his knees, curled a paperback revered by the late Nipsey Hussle in his hand. He didn’t really mean it as a question — and the other black men huddled around a coffee table in Boyle Heights knew not to answer.
Once a month, Cash and a group of men come together for The Marathon Book Club — one of several chapters across the country that were founded after Hussle was killed outside his South Los Angeles clothing store in March.
In the aftermath of his death, fans grasped for ways to honor him. Some made the pilgrimage to his shop off Slauson Avenue. Others painted his face in bright hues on the sides of buildings.
Advertisement
A 31-year-old fan from Wisconsin created a meme listing all of the books that Hussle had mentioned in interviews, songs and motivational messages that she had been compiling for years. It includes self-help bestsellers, cult classics and little-known books by black authors.
R.J. Harris, left, and Rashad Drakeford at a book club gathering in Los Angeles. (Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)
The list went viral.
Now, almost a year later, 74 black men and two Latinos make up the four chapters of The Marathon Book Club. They meet monthly in Oakland, New York and Washington, D.C., in addition to L.A., to discuss the books that motivated Hussle.
They include professors, entrepreneurs, corporate executives, investment bankers and at least one former athlete. Of those in Los Angeles, they have bachelor’s degrees, master’s degrees in business and doctorates from historically black colleges, private schools and state public universities.
California Behind the story: How a reporter discovered the ‘Nipsey Hussle effect’ A meme of Nipsey Hussle surrounded by a list a books led to a Wisconsin woman and a legion of fans looking to the rapper and activist for inspiration.
All those fancy titles and statuses are left at the door, though. There’s no posturing or pretensions. In this circle, the men can remove the masks that they have to wear in the world. Here, they can be themselves.
Advertisement
And on this warm summer morning, as so often happens, the book club quickly turned into therapy.
hey y’all. here’s my updated list. i’ll continue revamping it in the thread. keep passing the baton. #TMC 🏁 pic.twitter.com/pzO6GdDMpC — ਸਿਮਰਨ 🇮🇳 (@theSIMSITY) April 17, 2019
::
R.J. Harris opened with a confession: He didn’t finish the book.
But he had read enough to get the gist, and it got him thinking about the duality that black men face in life.
“We all have to learn how to [navigate spaces] whether we’re with our own people or we’re in spaces with prominently white people,” he said. “You have to master that skill to be successful in the real world.”
A choir of low “yeahs” backed him up.
The men in the group know what it’s like to be the only black voice in the room, like the protagonist in that month’s book, “The Spook Who Sat by the Door.”
Dion Pouncil, left, and DeRon Cash discuss “The Spook Who Sat by the Door.” (Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)
The underground classic inspired by author Sam Greenlee’s life follows former gang member Daniel Freeman as he works to become the nation’s first black CIA officer — or spook. Freeman eventually quits the agency, uses the spy tactics to mobilize street hustlers in Chicago and wages a war against the American government.
Advertisement
Hussle, born Ermias Asghedom, said in a 2018 interview that he was adopting the book’s name for his next album — an album he never got to make.
In some ways, the story paralleled Hussle’s own ascension from the Rollin’ 60s Crips street gang to a Grammy-nominated rapper and community activist who inspired a movement through his music and entrepreneurial messages. He used what he learned growing up in South L.A. to form his own record label, rebuild his Hyde Park neighborhood and create jobs.
“Finally wiggle out they mazes, find me out in different places, I’m the spook by the door, this the infiltration,” Hussle rapped in “Blue Laces 2.”
Harris said he related to the book’s protagonist, who found that the job as a CIA operative did not feed his soul. As a sports marketer, Harris had roles at the Madison Square Garden Co., worked with the Boston Red Sox and at the L.A. Football Club before leaving it all behind to launch a tech start-up, Otto.
A copy of the book by Sam Greenlee. (Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)
“My goals and objectives couldn’t be fulfilled in those spaces,” he said. “I didn’t feel full.”
Dion Pouncil leaned back in his leather chair. He too said he felt that while pursuing a career in baseball.
The programming pushed by society is that rapping, acting, singing or playing ball are the “only way to make money and how we can get out of the ’hood,” he said. But when Pouncil threw himself into the game, he realized he had little control over his own future. He was a player, not the owner. A worker, not the boss.
It wasn’t until he closed that chapter and used his connections to start his own company, the Playbook Network, did he find his true calling.
::
Visitors take photos and videos near a mural in the alley beside The Marathon, a South Los Angeles clothing store owned by the late rapper Nipsey Hussle. (Luis Sinco / Los Angeles Times)
Hussle defined his purpose early in his career.
At Russell Simmons’ “Get Your Money Right” summit in 2006, he explained why he was avoiding the diamonds, flashy cars and other trappings synonymous with hip-hop.
Advertisement
“All of that is cool for the image,” said Hussle, then 21 years old and resembling a young Snoop Dogg. “But I’d rather invest in some real estate ... a real asset so I can take care of my people.”
Hussle found that the tools he needed to realize his dreams were inside books.
From the branding tome “Contagious: Why Things Catch On,” he got the idea to charge $100 for his mixtape, which caught the eye of Jay-Z. In the business book “The 22 Immutable Laws of Marketing,” Hussle found the inspiration for his life-is-a-marathon-not-a-sprint mantra that he later simplified into just “The Marathon.” In the decades-old “The Way of the Superior Man,” he said he learned how to harness his power as a black man.
Lauren London, Hussle’s longtime love and life partner, told The Times days after his death that he would sit in bed with headphones listening to books for hours.
“We read a lot of books together,” she said in between sniffs. “We inspired each other to be better versions of ourselves. He was a truth seeker and a truth speaker.”
Advertisement
London said one of the most memorable books in their personal book club was “3 Magic Words.” Hussle described it in an interview with Complex magazine as a book “about the projection of your thoughts into reality.”
Before his death, Hussle was a regular at Eso Won Books, a Leimert Park institution of black literature and culture.
It sold 24 copies of “3 Magic Words” last year. It didn’t sell any the year before.
“People want to connect and, in a sense, heal” by reading the books that Hussle read, said Eso Won co-owner Tom Hamilton.
On Hussle’s last visit in December 2018, he perused the shelves for books on Fred Hampton, the Black Panther activist. He told the clerk he was conducting research for an upcoming documentary on him. Hussle purchased more than $400 worth of books, including a $200 Jean-Michel Basquiat coffee-table book, “Sacred Woman” by Queen Afua, and several children’s novels.
Nipsey Hussle at an NBA game in Oakland in 2018. (Marcio Jose Sanchez / Associated Press)
Now, patrons come to Eso Won with Hussle’s reading list in hand, and the books he revered are flying off the shelves.
Last year the store sold 150 copies of “Sacred Woman,” a self-help book about healing a woman’s spirit, up from 27 in 2018; 67 copies of “The Spook Who Sat by the Door,” up from 20 copies the prior year; and 30 copies of “The Way of the Superior Man,” up from a single copy the year before.
These books all educated and empowered Hussle — to release albums, start a record label and hire people with felony records to work at his shop, Slauson Tees, which later became The Marathon Clothing Store.
All of those were steps in a larger plan to revitalize his Crenshaw district in South L.A. — plans that were cut short when Hussle was gunned down outside his store in broad daylight on March 31.
Police have described the shooting as the culmination of a personal dispute. A fledgling rapper, Eric Holder, 29, has been indicted on one count of murder, two counts of attempted murder and other charges. The trial is set for March 2020.
::
“People want to connect and, in a sense, heal” by reading the books that Nipsey Hussle read, said a bookstore owner. (Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)
The smell of a tobacco and vanilla candle sweetened the room in Boyle Heights with a fragrant masculinity. Author James Baldwin, his likeness painted and mounted on a wall, peered down at the men gathered around the coffee table.
Advertisement
Rashad Drakeford, founder of The Marathon Book Club, gave voice to an internal battle. The 32-year-old holds a high-level position at a well-respected consumer technology company, but lately he’s been feeling like his dreams of helping under-served youths cannot be realized there.
“I’m not being heard in the way that I want to,” he said. “Now I’m at a place where, do I take all the skills, experiences and avenues and apply it to doing good for us? That’s a hard point to get to.”
“Mind if I ask, but what’s hard now?” Rahshiene Taha asked.
“Money, to be honest,” Drakeford said, voicing the fears of many aspiring entrepreneurs. “Uncertainty.”
Feeling the conversation had focused too much on him, Drakeford tried to change the subject. “This is not a therapy session for me.”
Charles H.F. Davis III, a professor at USC, interjected: “It’s for all of us.”
Advertisement
Trauma, whether from racism or from witnessing or being the victim of crime, is often a daily reality for many black men, according to a 2018 study from researchers at Washington University in St. Louis. Yet because of a host of social and economic barriers, including religion, cultural misgivings, a lack of access to healthcare and a systemic bias among providers, black men are significantly less likely than any other demographic group to seek mental health treatment, according to Washington University researchers and the National Alliance on Mental Illness.
For years, black men rarely discussed mental health, even among themselves. But recently there has been a shift that has coincided with the maturation of hip-hop.
In 2016, Kid Cudi opened up on social media about his battle with depression. His honesty spawned the hashtag #YouGoodMan to encourage black men to talk about their mental health. Kanye West has shared his struggles with bipolar disorder. And Charlamagne tha God talks therapy, trauma and anxiety with some of hip-hop’s biggest stars on his nationally syndicated radio show, “The Breakfast Club.”
Column One A showcase for compelling storytelling from the Los Angeles Times. Read more stories
In L.A., Davis says he has been hearing more discussions about mental health in the barbershop and about toxic masculinity in the locker room. He sees The Marathon Book Club as a microcosm of those conversations.
For so long there has been a warped understanding of manhood, Drakeford said.
“It used to be how tough you are and how many women you could bag,” he said. “It’s OK to talk about issues, [to] be vulnerable and fail. That’s the true essence of manhood.”
Together at The Marathon Book Club, in the company of other accomplished, like-minded men at the top of their careers, they can share personal struggles that never make it on social media.
“Seeing brothers talking about the journey while they are in it makes you realize, ‘I’m not alone in this,’” Drakeford said. “I’m feeling the same thing.”
::
It was an hour and a half into the meeting before anyone mentioned Hussle’s name. The conversation had turned to sacrifice, and what one must do to move to the next level in their careers, relationships and other areas of their lives.
Advertisement
Cash moved his hands and tattooed forearms toward his right temple, where the word “believe” is written. He got the tattoo in 2015, inspired by the tattoo Hussle had with the word “prolific” along his hairline.
He spoke of waiting tables while he taking acting classes and waiting on his big break. Hussle did something similar, Cash insisted, as he pivoted from street hustler to a Grammy-nominated musician.
“When he really decided to lock in,” Cash said, “he had to fall back from the streets.”
Pouncil pointed out that personal development requires creating new habits. “Are you willing to die for it?” he asked, challenging the men’s will to become new versions of themselves.
Davis then spun Pouncil’s question on its head: “What if we’re already dying? Are you willing to live for it?”
Advertisement
The men examined their mortality. They discussed plans to live each day with purpose.
Drakeford pinched the bridge of his nose. He had a question for Taha, a family man who successfully pivoted from corporate life to that of an entrepreneur.
Do you start a business right now, when you’re at the stage in life when you want to buy a home, get married and have kids? Or, Drakeford wanted to know, do you wait?
Taha tells Drakeford he can have it all with the right life partner. It’s possible to do what you love, give back to the community and create generational wealth.
“What made us have patience is that we realized we’re going to be doing this forever,” he said. “That took all the pressure off of it. We’re now not worried about sprinting. We’re actually, funny enough, in a marathon.”
The room erupted in applause. Someone yelled, “OK, Nip!”
The men then packed up their belongings and returned to the outside world with the teachings of Hussle guiding them.


latimes--2020-01-05--Human-caused ignitions spark California's worst wildfires but get little state focus

It could have been another bad wildfire year in California .
A bountiful summer crop of quick-to-burn dead grass carpeted the hillsides .
Autumn was warm and dry .
A record-breaking stretch of fire weather hit the Bay Area in October .
But it wasn ’ t .
California wildfires charred about 270,000 acres in 2019 , the smallest number since 2011 .
The three fatalities and roughly 735 burned structures were a fraction of the catastrophic losses of the previous two fire seasons .
The lower than expected toll followed an unusually wet spring and big snowpack , which @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
The installation of backcountry fire cameras gave firefighting crews early notice of ignitions .
When flames approached , evacuation orders were swift and sweeping .
But most critically , widespread preventive power shutdowns by the state ’ s largest electric utility diminished the chances of human-related ignitions at critical times — during high , hot winds that can fan a single spark into the kind of unstoppable inferno that destroyed the town of Paradise , Calif. , and left 86 people dead in the 2018 Camp fire .
The power blackouts were @ @ @ @ @ @ @ reducing the losses associated with the fire season , ” said Stanford University researcher Michael Wara , who served on the state ’ s Commission on Catastrophic Wildfire Cost and Recovery and recently testified before a congressional committee on wildfire and the electric grid .
Pacific Gas & Electric ’ s inspections of wind damage to its lines and equipment made it clear that , without preventive shutdowns , “ we would have had a significant number of utility-caused fires , ” Wara added .
The company found more than 300 spots of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ court filings .
Of those , the utility concluded electrical arcing would probably have occurred at 218 locations if power had been flowing through the lines .
The controversial blackouts disrupted the lives of millions of Californians , including Wara , who spent 6½ days without electricity .
But the 2019 record suggests that if the state and utilities take more steps to prevent ill-timed ignitions , lives and property will be saved .
The California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection did not respond to repeated interview requests for this story .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ — and often overlooked — role that human-related ignitions play in California wildfire .
It doesn ’ t matter how dry the vegetation , how fierce the winds or how high the temperature ; if there is no ignition , there is no wildfire .
Outside of the Sierra Nevada and the state ’ s northernmost tier , there is little lightning , nature ’ s ignition source .
That means that , in much of California , more than 90 % of the wildfires are started by people or their equipment .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ Diego , almost all the starts are human related .
In 2018 , the worst wildfire year in the state ’ s record , 1.8 million acres burned in California .
Lightning torched only 117,107 acres , according to federal statistics .
Of the known causes of the state ’ s 20 most destructive wildfires , all are human-related .
Half were started by power line or electrical problems , including the two most devastating , the Camp fire , which incinerated 18,804 buildings , and the 2017 Tubbs fire , which killed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Other causes of the top destructive blazes include sparks from driving a trailer on the rim of a flat tire ( the 2018 Carr fire in Shasta County ) ; a hunter ’ s small signal fires ( the 2003 Cedar fire in San Diego County ) ; and arson ( the 2003 Old fire in San Bernardino County ) .
Human starts aren ’ t just a California problem .
Researchers who analyzed two decades of U.S. records found that , from 1992 to 2012 , human activity was responsible for 84 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of the area burned nationally .
The scientists also concluded that people have dramatically expanded the fire season — extending it by far more than a warming climate — because they start fires virtually year-round .
“ We ’ ve forgotten the importance of human ignitions in the mix of this , ” said Jennifer Balch , lead author of the 2017 paper , which was published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences .
“ I ’ m not saying that climate change is not important , ” added Balch @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the University of Colorado-Boulder .
“ I ’ m saying we have a confluence of climate change setting the stage for warmer and drier conditions — and people are providing the ignitions for those large blazes , ” she explained .
“ The convergence and timing is really unfortunate.
” The one hopeful aspect , she said , is that “ we can actually do something about it.
” “ It ’ s very different than other natural disasters that are being influenced by climate change , ” she said .
“ We @ @ @ @ @ @ @ those tropical storms , but we have something to say about where those ignitions are , or aren ’ t. ” The overall number of ignitions in California has declined since 1980 , but the area burned in different parts of the state has either not changed or increased , according to research by Jon Keeley and Alexandra Syphard .
Keeley , a U.S. Geological Survey scientist and leading expert on California wildfire , said there was one notable exception to the downward ignitions trend .
The number of power line-sparked fires has @ @ @ @ @ @ @ burned far more acreage since 2000 than during the prior two decades .
“ Clearly something is going on , ” said Keeley , who offered two possible explanations : The state ’ s power distribution infrastructure is aging , and the electrical grid has expanded as development pushes farther into wildlands .
Widespread power shutdowns have not been in play long enough to ascertain if they are effective , he said .
Still , Keeley said the 2019 fire season challenges the notion that the horrific wildfire toll of recent years is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ climate change .
“ People have to recognize there is a lot of serendipity .
It has to be the match-up of a number of things ” to create catastrophic fires , he added .
It is not the number of ignitions that drives wildfire destruction .
There were 8,315 fires in California in 2019 — a couple of hundred more than in the devastating 2018 season , according to the National Interagency Fire Center .
It is the conditions under which ignitions occur that matter the most .
If it ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and howling Santa Ana or Diablo winds , chances are greater that a few sparks can quickly explode into a freeway-hopping conflagration that sets entire communities ablaze .
The cause of California ’ s biggest 2019 wildfire , the Kincade fire , is still officially under investigation .
But PG & E has said a high-voltage transmission line that was not powered down during a late October blackout experienced problems near the origin of the blaze , which destroyed 374 structures .
The Kincade fire erupted in the hills of Sonoma County at @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of red flag days in the region , which at one point was buffeted by winds gusting to 90 to 100 mph .
Statewide , October was the 10th driest on record .
Were it not for the electricity outages , Wara argued , damaged power equipment could have sparked numerous other wind-blown blazes across Northern California at the same time as the Kincade fire .
That would have overwhelmed firefighters in a replay of the 2017 wine country conflagrations .
“ The Kincade fire was successfully fought by Cal Fire in part @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” he said .
Though downed power lines have caused many of the state ’ s wildfire disasters , human ignitions run the gamut .
Keeley and Syphard ’ s analysis of a century of California ignitions , from the early 20th century to 2016 , found that equipment use , arson , burning debris , children playing with fire , smoking and vehicles were other leading causes .
The state ’ s biggest recorded wildfire , the 2018 Mendocino Complex fire in Northern California , started when a rancher drove a stake @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s nest , throwing sparks into a waist-high bed of dried grass on a hot summer day .
Ranch hands fixing a broken water pipe ignited the 2007 Zaca fire in Santa Barbara County , the state ’ s sixth-largest fire .
Despite the dominance of human ignitions in California , neighboring regions in the West have taken more aggressive steps to prevent them .
On high fire-risk days in Oregon , for example , the state can limit or completely ban the use of chainsaws , grinding equipment , mowing and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ protected by the Oregon Forestry Department .
In New Mexico and Arizona , the U.S. Forest Service has regularly closed large portions of national forests during peak fire season to prevent a repeat of the disastrous 2011 Wallow fire .
The biggest wildfire in Arizona history , the wind-driven Wallow grew from an unattended campfire the day after the Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest lifted fire restrictions .
“ That caused the entire region to take a hard look at our restrictions and closure process , ” said Matt Rau , fire staff officer for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in New Mexico .
“ If we don ’ t err on the side of caution and a fire does start , there ’ s a tremendous amount of scrutiny about the decision or the indecision , ” he said , adding that the Southwest ’ s long-term drought has heightened wildfire concerns .
Even though portions of the Cibola are near metropolitan Albuquerque and it has the highest visitation of New Mexico ’ s forests , managers closed most of the 1.6 million-acre forest to public access for about three weeks in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , there ’ s support ” for the closings , Rau said , adding that forest managers often get questions about why they aren ’ t restricting access earlier .
“ We get very little pushback when we close an area for high-fire danger or elevate restrictions.
” Preventive closures are much rarer in California .
Though the Forest Service routinely closes areas during and after fires , the agency is reluctant to shut out the public to prevent human ignitions .
“ The last thing the Forest Service wants to do is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ national forest system lands , ” said Brian Rhodes , the agency ’ s deputy fire director in California .
John “ Pancho ” Smith , Santa Barbara District ranger for Los Padres National Forest , spent much of his career in the Southwest , where he fought fires , investigated them and enforced forest closures .
When Smith transferred to the oft-burned Los Padres seven years ago , he asked , “ Why don ’ t we close the forest ?
” The answer : “ Politically it ’ s very hard @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a lot of pushback from the public .
‘ This is our forest .
We want in.
’ That kind of thing , ” Smith recalled .
From a practical standpoint , Smith said , it would be tough to enforce the closure of a forest like Los Padres , which has many access points .
Moreover , budget cuts have left the forest with fewer people to patrol and enforce restrictions on camp fires or firearm use during periods of high fire danger .
“ I don ’ t believe we do @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of prevention as we could , ” Smith said .
“ We just don ’ t have enough people to actually make those contacts in the field , which is where I believe it ’ s most important to talk to folks.
” “ People love to talk to the forest ranger , ” he said .
“ We just don ’ t have ‘ em any more .
”

Ozzy Butler pours water on to his deck at his parents’ house as the Saddleridge fire burns along Thunderbird Avenue in Porter Ranch in October. Despite some high-profile blazes, California had a relatively mild fire season last year.
It could have been another bad wildfire year in California. A bountiful summer crop of quick-to-burn dead grass carpeted the hillsides. Autumn was warm and dry. A record-breaking stretch of fire weather hit the Bay Area in October.
But it wasn’t. California wildfires charred about 270,000 acres in 2019, the smallest number since 2011. The three fatalities and roughly 735 burned structures were a fraction of the catastrophic losses of the previous two fire seasons.
The lower than expected toll followed an unusually wet spring and big snowpack, which slowed the start of the fire season. The installation of backcountry fire cameras gave firefighting crews early notice of ignitions. When flames approached, evacuation orders were swift and sweeping.
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But most critically, widespread preventive power shutdowns by the state’s largest electric utility diminished the chances of human-related ignitions at critical times — during high, hot winds that can fan a single spark into the kind of unstoppable inferno that destroyed the town of Paradise, Calif., and left 86 people dead in the 2018 Camp fire.
The power blackouts were “likely highly effective in terms of reducing the losses associated with the fire season,” said Stanford University researcher Michael Wara, who served on the state’s Commission on Catastrophic Wildfire Cost and Recovery and recently testified before a congressional committee on wildfire and the electric grid.
Pacific Gas & Electric’s inspections of wind damage to its lines and equipment made it clear that, without preventive shutdowns, “we would have had a significant number of utility-caused fires,” Wara added.
The company found more than 300 spots of damage, according to PG&E court filings. Of those, the utility concluded electrical arcing would probably have occurred at 218 locations if power had been flowing through the lines.
The controversial blackouts disrupted the lives of millions of Californians, including Wara, who spent 6½ days without electricity. But the 2019 record suggests that if the state and utilities take more steps to prevent ill-timed ignitions, lives and property will be saved.
The California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection did not respond to repeated interview requests for this story. But the widespread shut-offs underscore the huge — and often overlooked — role that human-related ignitions play in California wildfire.
It doesn’t matter how dry the vegetation, how fierce the winds or how high the temperature; if there is no ignition, there is no wildfire.
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Outside of the Sierra Nevada and the state’s northernmost tier, there is little lightning, nature’s ignition source.
That means that, in much of California, more than 90% of the wildfires are started by people or their equipment. In coastal counties from Sonoma to San Diego, almost all the starts are human related.
In 2018, the worst wildfire year in the state’s record, 1.8 million acres burned in California. Lightning torched only 117,107 acres, according to federal statistics.
Of the known causes of the state’s 20 most destructive wildfires, all are human-related. Half were started by power line or electrical problems, including the two most devastating, the Camp fire, which incinerated 18,804 buildings, and the 2017 Tubbs fire, which killed 22 people and destroyed 5,636 structures.
Other causes of the top destructive blazes include sparks from driving a trailer on the rim of a flat tire (the 2018 Carr fire in Shasta County); a hunter’s small signal fires (the 2003 Cedar fire in San Diego County); and arson (the 2003 Old fire in San Bernardino County).
Human starts aren’t just a California problem. Researchers who analyzed two decades of U.S. records found that, from 1992 to 2012, human activity was responsible for 84% of the wildfires and 44% of the area burned nationally.
The scientists also concluded that people have dramatically expanded the fire season — extending it by far more than a warming climate — because they start fires virtually year-round.
“We’ve forgotten the importance of human ignitions in the mix of this,” said Jennifer Balch, lead author of the 2017 paper, which was published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.
“I’m not saying that climate change is not important,” added Balch, who directs the Earth Lab at the University of Colorado-Boulder.
“I’m saying we have a confluence of climate change setting the stage for warmer and drier conditions — and people are providing the ignitions for those large blazes,” she explained. “The convergence and timing is really unfortunate.”
The one hopeful aspect, she said, is that “we can actually do something about it.”
“It’s very different than other natural disasters that are being influenced by climate change,” she said. “We can’t shift the direction of those tropical storms, but we have something to say about where those ignitions are, or aren’t.”
The overall number of ignitions in California has declined since 1980, but the area burned in different parts of the state has either not changed or increased, according to research by Jon Keeley and Alexandra Syphard.
Keeley, a U.S. Geological Survey scientist and leading expert on California wildfire, said there was one notable exception to the downward ignitions trend.
The number of power line-sparked fires has not dropped, and those fires have burned far more acreage since 2000 than during the prior two decades.
“Clearly something is going on,” said Keeley, who offered two possible explanations: The state’s power distribution infrastructure is aging, and the electrical grid has expanded as development pushes farther into wildlands.
Widespread power shutdowns have not been in play long enough to ascertain if they are effective, he said.
Still, Keeley said the 2019 fire season challenges the notion that the horrific wildfire toll of recent years is the “new normal” wrought by climate change.
“People have to recognize there is a lot of serendipity. It has to be the match-up of a number of things” to create catastrophic fires, he added.
One critical match-up is timing.
It is not the number of ignitions that drives wildfire destruction. There were 8,315 fires in California in 2019 — a couple of hundred more than in the devastating 2018 season, according to the National Interagency Fire Center.
It is the conditions under which ignitions occur that matter the most. If it’s a red flag day with single-digit humidity and howling Santa Ana or Diablo winds, chances are greater that a few sparks can quickly explode into a freeway-hopping conflagration that sets entire communities ablaze.
A tree burns during the Kincade fire, east of Highway 128 near the Sonoma County community of Kellogg, in October. (Paul Kitagaki Jr. / Sacramento Bee)
Vines surround a burning building as the Kincade fire rips through unincorporated Sonoma County. (Noah Berger / Associated Press)
The cause of California’s biggest 2019 wildfire, the Kincade fire, is still officially under investigation. But PG&E has said a high-voltage transmission line that was not powered down during a late October blackout experienced problems near the origin of the blaze, which destroyed 374 structures.
The Kincade fire erupted in the hills of Sonoma County at the beginning of an unusually long stretch of red flag days in the region, which at one point was buffeted by winds gusting to 90 to 100 mph. Statewide, October was the 10th driest on record.
Were it not for the electricity outages, Wara argued, damaged power equipment could have sparked numerous other wind-blown blazes across Northern California at the same time as the Kincade fire. That would have overwhelmed firefighters in a replay of the 2017 wine country conflagrations.
“The Kincade fire was successfully fought by Cal Fire in part because it was the only fire,” he said.
Though downed power lines have caused many of the state’s wildfire disasters, human ignitions run the gamut.
Keeley and Syphard’s analysis of a century of California ignitions, from the early 20th century to 2016, found that equipment use, arson, burning debris, children playing with fire, smoking and vehicles were other leading causes.
The state’s biggest recorded wildfire, the 2018 Mendocino Complex fire in Northern California, started when a rancher drove a stake into the ground to plug a wasp’s nest, throwing sparks into a waist-high bed of dried grass on a hot summer day.
Ranch hands fixing a broken water pipe ignited the 2007 Zaca fire in Santa Barbara County, the state’s sixth-largest fire.
Firefighters monitor a burn operation during the 2018 Mendocino Complex fire near the town of Ladoga. (Marcus Yam / Los Angeles Times)
Structures, cars and property burned by the Mendocino Complex fire near Clearlake Oaks in August 2018. (Marcus Yam/Los Angeles Times)
Despite the dominance of human ignitions in California, neighboring regions in the West have taken more aggressive steps to prevent them.
On high fire-risk days in Oregon, for example, the state can limit or completely ban the use of chainsaws, grinding equipment, mowing and other activities on the 13 million acres protected by the Oregon Forestry Department.
In New Mexico and Arizona, the U.S. Forest Service has regularly closed large portions of national forests during peak fire season to prevent a repeat of the disastrous 2011 Wallow fire.
The biggest wildfire in Arizona history, the wind-driven Wallow grew from an unattended campfire the day after the Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest lifted fire restrictions.
“That caused the entire region to take a hard look at our restrictions and closure process,” said Matt Rau, fire staff officer for the Cibola National Forest and National Grasslands in New Mexico.
“If we don’t err on the side of caution and a fire does start, there’s a tremendous amount of scrutiny about the decision or the indecision,” he said, adding that the Southwest’s long-term drought has heightened wildfire concerns.
Even though portions of the Cibola are near metropolitan Albuquerque and it has the highest visitation of New Mexico’s forests, managers closed most of the 1.6 million-acre forest to public access for about three weeks in 2018.
“I would say broadly, there’s support” for the closings, Rau said, adding that forest managers often get questions about why they aren’t restricting access earlier. “We get very little pushback when we close an area for high-fire danger or elevate restrictions.”
Preventive closures are much rarer in California. Though the Forest Service routinely closes areas during and after fires, the agency is reluctant to shut out the public to prevent human ignitions.
“The last thing the Forest Service wants to do is limit access to the public to their national forest system lands,” said Brian Rhodes, the agency’s deputy fire director in California.
John “Pancho” Smith, Santa Barbara District ranger for Los Padres National Forest, spent much of his career in the Southwest, where he fought fires, investigated them and enforced forest closures.
When Smith transferred to the oft-burned Los Padres seven years ago, he asked, “Why don’t we close the forest?”
The answer: “Politically it’s very hard to close a forest. You get a lot of pushback from the public. ‘This is our forest. We want in.’ That kind of thing,” Smith recalled.
From a practical standpoint, Smith said, it would be tough to enforce the closure of a forest like Los Padres, which has many access points.
Moreover, budget cuts have left the forest with fewer people to patrol and enforce restrictions on camp fires or firearm use during periods of high fire danger.
“I don’t believe we do as good [of a] job of prevention as we could,” Smith said. “We just don’t have enough people to actually make those contacts in the field, which is where I believe it’s most important to talk to folks.”
“People love to talk to the forest ranger,” he said. “We just don’t have ‘em any more.”