latimes--2020-02-11--Korean liquor store. Black neighborhood. A quarter-century after the riots, misgivings still run dee

Korean liquor store. Black neighborhood. A quarter-century after the riots, misgivings still run deep

It started with a stick — that much everybody can agree on .
A Korean stock boy wielded the stick at a black patron inside a Leimert Park liquor store late on a Sunday afternoon .
In some tellings , the customer was rudely chased away for being short a nickel — another instance of the Korean-owned store mistreating the surrounding African American community .
In others , the man was drunk and making his third booze run of the day , and the employee denied him service , as required by law .
The incident in late 2017 pitted @ @ @ @ @ @ @ shopkeeper against a band of black activists who voiced familiar complaints about outsiders taking advantage of the scarcity of retail options in South L.A .
It snowballed into a months-long boycott and protests and unnerved the neighborhood , the Korean community and a city that keenly remembers how similar tensions a quarter-century ago culminated with Los Angeles up in flames .
In time , one party would be driven out of town and the other would claim victory , with city and community officials scrambling to draw up a plan to prevent such @ @ @ @ @ @ @ everyone involved , it was a reminder that the embers of the 1992 L.A. riots still smolder in communities where economic disparities and racial and cultural misunderstandings never went away .
A half-dozen members of the Africa Town Coalition were holding their weekly food bank in Leimert Park , passing out meals and produce , when someone ran over and told them about the skirmish at Hubert ’ s Liquor .
They were regulars in the area , chanting black empowerment slogans and soliciting donations for food and school supply giveaways .
Primarily @ @ @ @ @ @ @ generation that came of age in Los Angeles during the collective ire of 1992 , with the political angst but without the organizational prowess or scale of the Black Lives Matter movement .
For years , they had protested and boycotted businesses they believed had disrespected the community : a Walmart , a Boost Mobile , a Wienerschnitzel .
When they heard about Hubert ’ s , they kicked into action and announced a “ grand closing ” of the store .
They made signs — “ Our $ $ s count .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ black nationalist flag and brought out the bullhorn , blocking customers from entering the store .
The protests tapped into long-held complaints about Hubert ’ s — the prices a dollar or two higher than at big-box stores , the short treatment from employees who didn ’ t seem to live in or care about the neighborhood , the row of photos taped on the bulletproof glass of suspected shoplifters .
They didn ’ t know much about the owner , a diminutive woman who spoke faltering English , but it almost didn @ @ @ @ @ @ @ she was yet another outsider profiting off the neighborhood .
“ They would add 5 cents more than necessary .
For a lot of people , 5 cents is a big deal , ” said Eschelle Washington , 38 .
Protests and boycotts were tried and true methods for the group .
William “ Billion ” Campbell , 49 , staged his first protest in his 20s when a convenience store clerk yelled at him and his cousin for reading comic books without buying them .
The clerk apologized after two days .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ them accountable and choke off their finances , ” said Kevin Wharton Price , one of the group ’ s leaders .
“ Irregardless of how people view our methods , our methodology is sound and successful.
” Hubert ’ s is in the heart of Leimert Park , one of Los Angeles ’ last remaining historically black neighborhoods , an area the group was advocating to get renamed “ Africa Town.
” Protesters cried out to customers that the store “ does not deserve the black and the brown dollars.
” At @ @ @ @ @ @ @ were briefly detained but not charged , and returned the next day to protest .
After weeks , when they felt their complaints were falling on deaf ears , they took the protest to Koreatown .
The signs they carried didn ’ t mince words : It almost felt like fate that Soon Yoon had ended up in Leimert Park .
She had arrived in the U.S. with little to her name .
She first worked at a gas station , then sold tamales and menudo in Canoga Park before she saved up @ @ @ @ @ @ @ East L.A .
When her husband left her for a younger woman , the store became a lifeline for Yoon and her two children .
During the L.A. riots , dozens of Korean-owned liquor stores were burned to the ground .
By then a single mother in her 50s , Yoon planned to move on to something safer , maybe a coin laundry , and sold her store .
But one day she missed her normal exit off the 10 Freeway and somehow ended up in Leimert Park .
She saw a busy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it with a Small Business Administration loan .
For two decades , Yoon said , she thought she had a good relationship with the community .
Save for some kids who would run out with a can of this or that a couple times a year , she had little trouble .
Her prices weren ’ t cheap , but an extra 2 % or 3 % markup was a business decision many shopkeepers made to take advantage of the lack of competition and compensate for what they believed was the risk of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ People think we ’ re raking it in , but they don ’ t see the 10 to 15 hours a day we put in , the loans we took out and the hard work we do , ” said Mike Kim , president of the Southern California Korean American Grocers Assn .
“ They only think of the money we take away.
” Yoon had regulars with whom she exchanged warm greetings , who would come in for their morning paper or a snack after performances at a nearby theater @ @ @ @ @ @ @ paid a neighborhood guy down on his luck to sweep her parking lot .
One man called her “ mama-san , ” and she would come out from behind the counter to give him a hug .
Through the area merchants association , she donated to programs at nearby Crenshaw High .
The man who was chased out of the store with the stick also was a regular , the neighborhood drunk whose poison of choice is beer , Yoon said .
She was watching through a security camera from the back when @ @ @ @ @ @ @ out front to see what was going on , one of the women who took issue with the stock boy ’ s behavior threw water at her .
A handful of protesters returned the next day with their signs and bullhorns , and again the day after that .
What started with complaints about one man ’ s mistreatment evolved into a litany of grievances , blaming all of the area ’ s social ills on the store and the liquor it sells .
The protests continued for weeks , then months .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ the crowd from getting out of hand , but said they couldn ’ t stop the group from rallying on public streets .
By December 2017 , after months of on-and-off protests and lists of demands , Yoon ’ s daughter , concerned for her 79-year-old mother , began imploring her to leave it all behind .
Alarmed by the protests , a store employee called the Korean American Federation , a community group that serves and represents first-generation , non-English-speaking immigrants .
Emile Mack , the federation ’ s vice president and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , said he could see the dispute from both perspectives .
An adoptee from South Korea raised by black parents in South L.A. , he grew up going to a corner liquor store a lot like Hubert ’ s for chips and soda in the ‘ 60s and ‘ 70s .
Using his connections , he assembled a group to talk out the situation — representatives from the First African Methodist Episcopal Church , mayor ’ s office , City Council and Assembly .
The group began meeting at a church and later @ @ @ @ @ @ @ from the protesters .
Mack realized the situation at Hubert ’ s was a sign that , however much leaders of the black and Korean communities were holding joint events and posing for photo ops , among many Angelenos , stereotypes and misunderstandings persisted .
“ The people that are actually in the community don ’ t have much better understanding or relationship than they did back in ’ 92 , ” he said .
“ ‘ Koreans , they ’ re just here taking our money .
African Americans come in and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ things you could ’ ve heard 25 years ago , still being thought by most people in the community.
” Back then , nearly half the liquor stores in South L.A. were owned by Korean immigrants drawn by cheap rent , the minimal English required and a stock that doesn ’ t go bad .
They set up shop in neighborhoods they didn ’ t understand at a time when crime was at an all-time high , police presence was heightened and black communities felt under siege .
Tensions rose in 1991 when @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was shot in the back of her head by a Korean shopkeeper who suspected her of shoplifting .
The hostility turned to rage when Soon Ja Du , convicted of manslaughter , was sentenced to probation .
When South L.A. erupted in riots after the Rodney King verdict the following year , more than 2,300 Korean-owned businesses were looted and burned down .
In many ways , the Korean-owned liquor stores that still dot South L.A. today are a snapshot from the early 1990s .
The majority of the owners are still first-generation @ @ @ @ @ @ @ more lucrative professions .
Most of the customers also remain economically disenfranchised — if not worse off — compared with the rest of the city .
To Kirkpatrick Tyler , the mayor ’ s field representative for South L.A. , it seemed as if everyone involved in the Hubert ’ s dispute simply wanted to be heard and acknowledged .
He tried to act as a translator of sorts , “ listening to people and putting what they ’ re saying in a palatable format that other people can understand.
” “ It @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he said .
“ It ’ s about how do we make the decision , ‘ Let ’ s stay in this space and talk to each other.
’ ” After spending hours with the protesters and speaking extensively with Yoon , the owner , Mack drafted a response to the Africa Town Coalition ’ s demands .
Yoon offered to participate in cultural sensitivity training and assist with local substance abuse programs ; she agreed to offer more than just liquor and to make a monthly donation to the coalition ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ already had been sponsoring nearby youth programs and that she had previously employed a black clerk for eight years until he retired , and had been trying to hire others since .
Yoon had already removed the photos of alleged shoplifters .
In December 2017 , as Mack and the protesters were going back and forth about what changes should be made at the store , Yoon quietly sold the business to another Korean owner .
Mack said she felt she was being portrayed in an unfairly negative light .
“ It was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ said .
“ It was just getting to be too much.
” Yoon later said that she felt pressured to sell for far less than what Hubert ’ s was worth .
Some of her regulars , she added , implored her to stay , offering to call the police on the protesters on her behalf .
She believes it was outsiders , not the community , who pushed her out .
” I never lost the neighborhood ’ s heart , ” she said .
The protests continued for about a month @ @ @ @ @ @ @ faded away .
Since then , Hubert ’ s has become a symbol of both progress and stagnation .
Simon Choi , the new owner , lowered prices , cleaned up the store ’ s appearance and began stocking more fresh produce .
He holds barbecues in the parking lot , donates beverages every week to Africa Town Coalition ’ s food giveaway for homeless people and donates $ 100 monthly to support the group ’ s activities .
This fall , Choi also bought a new leaf blower for a neighborhood beautification @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the Korean American Federation and Mayor Eric Garcetti ’ s office have explored using lessons from what happened at Hubert ’ s elsewhere in Los Angeles .
They talked of creating a “ cultural competency ” workshop for business owners to teach them communication skills and the historical context for specific communities , possibly devising a score that would be posted at each store like restaurant sanitation ratings .
But after several meetings , working groups and proposals , the effort has fizzled , with a new South L.A. representative for Garcetti ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on to other issues .
Mack said recently that until fundamental inequalities are improved , another situation like Hubert ’ s probably awaits in some other corner of Los Angeles .
“ Unless there are changes that allow the smaller business to be acquired by the average person , it ’ s still going to be difficult , ” he said .
“ I don ’ t think the changes have been made that make black ownership any more viable today than it was 25 years ago.
” This fall , there was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the battle over Hubert ’ s .
Kevin Wharton Price , one of the protest leaders , walked into a downtown courthouse in November wearing a faded Africa Town sweatshirt .
He had come to address the 2-year-old warrant he had received after demonstrating at the store .
The penalty : a $ 400 fine .
To Price , it was worth it for Leimert Park .
Besides , he said , he plans to let it go to collections anyway .

It started with a stick — that much everybody can agree on.
A Korean stock boy wielded the stick at a black patron inside a Leimert Park liquor store late on a Sunday afternoon. In some tellings, the customer was rudely chased away for being short a nickel — another instance of the Korean-owned store mistreating the surrounding African American community. In others, the man was drunk and making his third booze run of the day, and the employee denied him service, as required by law.
The incident in late 2017 pitted the store’s longtime elderly Korean shopkeeper against a band of black activists who voiced familiar complaints about outsiders taking advantage of the scarcity of retail options in South L.A. It snowballed into a months-long boycott and protests and unnerved the neighborhood, the Korean community and a city that keenly remembers how similar tensions a quarter-century ago culminated with Los Angeles up in flames.
In time, one party would be driven out of town and the other would claim victory, with city and community officials scrambling to draw up a plan to prevent such tensions in the future.
And to everyone involved, it was a reminder that the embers of the 1992 L.A. riots still smolder in communities where economic disparities and racial and cultural misunderstandings never went away.
Advertisement
Kevin Wharton Price, left, founder of the Africa Town Coalition, during a rally about changing Leimert Park’s name to “Africa Town” in May. The coalition led protests at Hubert’s Liquor. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
The protesters
A half-dozen members of the Africa Town Coalition were holding their weekly food bank in Leimert Park, passing out meals and produce, when someone ran over and told them about the skirmish at Hubert’s Liquor.
They were regulars in the area, chanting black empowerment slogans and soliciting donations for food and school supply giveaways. Primarily middle-aged men, they belonged to the generation that came of age in Los Angeles during the collective ire of 1992, with the political angst but without the organizational prowess or scale of the Black Lives Matter movement.
For years, they had protested and boycotted businesses they believed had disrespected the community: a Walmart, a Boost Mobile, a Wienerschnitzel. When they heard about Hubert’s, they kicked into action and announced a “grand closing” of the store. They made signs — “Our $$s count. Respect Black Power” — waved the black nationalist flag and brought out the bullhorn, blocking customers from entering the store.
The protests tapped into long-held complaints about Hubert’s — the prices a dollar or two higher than at big-box stores, the short treatment from employees who didn’t seem to live in or care about the neighborhood, the row of photos taped on the bulletproof glass of suspected shoplifters. They didn’t know much about the owner, a diminutive woman who spoke faltering English, but it almost didn’t matter. To them, she was yet another outsider profiting off the neighborhood.
“They would add 5 cents more than necessary. For a lot of people, 5 cents is a big deal,” said Eschelle Washington, 38.
× The Africa Town Coalition led a months-long protest of a Korean-owned liquor store in Leimert Park.
Advertisement
Protests and boycotts were tried and true methods for the group. William “Billion” Campbell, 49, staged his first protest in his 20s when a convenience store clerk yelled at him and his cousin for reading comic books without buying them. The clerk apologized after two days.
“We have the right to hold them accountable and choke off their finances,” said Kevin Wharton Price, one of the group’s leaders. “Irregardless of how people view our methods, our methodology is sound and successful.”
Hubert’s is in the heart of Leimert Park, one of Los Angeles’ last remaining historically black neighborhoods, an area the group was advocating to get renamed “Africa Town.” Protesters cried out to customers that the store “does not deserve the black and the brown dollars.” At one heated demonstration, Price and Campbell were briefly detained but not charged, and returned the next day to protest.
After weeks, when they felt their complaints were falling on deaf ears, they took the protest to Koreatown. The signs they carried didn’t mince words:
“No More Korean Merchant Parasites.”
Hubert’s Liquor in Leimert Park. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
The owner
It almost felt like fate that Soon Yoon had ended up in Leimert Park.
Advertisement
She had arrived in the U.S. with little to her name. She first worked at a gas station, then sold tamales and menudo in Canoga Park before she saved up enough to buy a liquor store in East L.A. When her husband left her for a younger woman, the store became a lifeline for Yoon and her two children.
During the L.A. riots, dozens of Korean-owned liquor stores were burned to the ground. By then a single mother in her 50s, Yoon planned to move on to something safer, maybe a coin laundry, and sold her store.
But one day she missed her normal exit off the 10 Freeway and somehow ended up in Leimert Park. She saw a busy liquor store for sale and soon bought it with a Small Business Administration loan.
Column One A showcase for compelling storytelling from the Los Angeles Times. More stories
For two decades, Yoon said, she thought she had a good relationship with the community. Save for some kids who would run out with a can of this or that a couple times a year, she had little trouble.
Her prices weren’t cheap, but an extra 2% or 3% markup was a business decision many shopkeepers made to take advantage of the lack of competition and compensate for what they believed was the risk of doing business in poorer, higher-crime areas.
“People think we’re raking it in, but they don’t see the 10 to 15 hours a day we put in, the loans we took out and the hard work we do,” said Mike Kim, president of the Southern California Korean American Grocers Assn. “They only think of the money we take away.”
1 / 4 An LAPD officer guards the intersection at Central and 46th Street on April 30, 1992. (Gary Friedman / Los Angeles Times) 2 / 4 A man flees from a looted sporting goods store at Vermont and 1st Street as LAPD officers arrive on April 30, 1992. (Gerard Burkhart / For the Times) 3 / 4 A rioter attacks a car on Florence and Normandie after the Rodney King verdict on April 29, 1992. (Kirk McKoy / Los Angeles Times) 4 / 4 Soon Ja Du, shown in 1992, fatally shot Latasha Harlins after a scuffle at Soon’s store. (Ken Lubas / Los Angeles Times)
Yoon had regulars with whom she exchanged warm greetings, who would come in for their morning paper or a snack after performances at a nearby theater let out. Now and then she paid a neighborhood guy down on his luck to sweep her parking lot. One man called her “mama-san,” and she would come out from behind the counter to give him a hug. Through the area merchants association, she donated to programs at nearby Crenshaw High.
The man who was chased out of the store with the stick also was a regular, the neighborhood drunk whose poison of choice is beer, Yoon said. She was watching through a security camera from the back when the trouble started.
Advertisement
When Yoon came out front to see what was going on, one of the women who took issue with the stock boy’s behavior threw water at her. A handful of protesters returned the next day with their signs and bullhorns, and again the day after that.
What started with complaints about one man’s mistreatment evolved into a litany of grievances, blaming all of the area’s social ills on the store and the liquor it sells.
The protests continued for weeks, then months. Police officers repeatedly came by to keep the crowd from getting out of hand, but said they couldn’t stop the group from rallying on public streets.
By December 2017, after months of on-and-off protests and lists of demands, Yoon’s daughter, concerned for her 79-year-old mother, began imploring her to leave it all behind.
A customer makes his way down the aisle at Hubert’s Liquor. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
The mediators
Alarmed by the protests, a store employee called the Korean American Federation, a community group that serves and represents first-generation, non-English-speaking immigrants.
Advertisement
Emile Mack, the federation’s vice president and a retired Los Angeles Fire Department official, said he could see the dispute from both perspectives. An adoptee from South Korea raised by black parents in South L.A., he grew up going to a corner liquor store a lot like Hubert’s for chips and soda in the ‘60s and ‘70s.
Using his connections, he assembled a group to talk out the situation — representatives from the First African Methodist Episcopal Church, mayor’s office, City Council and Assembly. The group began meeting at a church and later at City Hall, going over demands from the protesters.
“The people that are actually in the community don’t have much better understanding or relationship than they did back in ’92.” — Emile Mack, Korean American Federation of Los Angeles
Mack realized the situation at Hubert’s was a sign that, however much leaders of the black and Korean communities were holding joint events and posing for photo ops, among many Angelenos, stereotypes and misunderstandings persisted.
“The people that are actually in the community don’t have much better understanding or relationship than they did back in ’92,” he said. “‘Koreans, they’re just here taking our money. African Americans come in and they steal from us.’ … Basic things you could’ve heard 25 years ago, still being thought by most people in the community.”
Back then, nearly half the liquor stores in South L.A. were owned by Korean immigrants drawn by cheap rent, the minimal English required and a stock that doesn’t go bad. They set up shop in neighborhoods they didn’t understand at a time when crime was at an all-time high, police presence was heightened and black communities felt under siege.
Advertisement
Tensions rose in 1991 when a 15-year-old girl, Latasha Harlins, was shot in the back of her head by a Korean shopkeeper who suspected her of shoplifting. The hostility turned to rage when Soon Ja Du, convicted of manslaughter, was sentenced to probation. When South L.A. erupted in riots after the Rodney King verdict the following year, more than 2,300 Korean-owned businesses were looted and burned down.
Ruth Harlins, center in scarf, grandmother of Latasha Harlins, and other family and community members raise candles on the 25th anniversary of her shooting death along Figueroa Street in Los Angeles. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
In many ways, the Korean-owned liquor stores that still dot South L.A. today are a snapshot from the early 1990s. The majority of the owners are still first-generation immigrants whose children have gone on to more lucrative professions. Most of the customers also remain economically disenfranchised — if not worse off — compared with the rest of the city.
To Kirkpatrick Tyler, the mayor’s field representative for South L.A., it seemed as if everyone involved in the Hubert’s dispute simply wanted to be heard and acknowledged. He tried to act as a translator of sorts, “listening to people and putting what they’re saying in a palatable format that other people can understand.”
“It’s an uncomfortable space,” he said. “It’s about how do we make the decision, ‘Let’s stay in this space and talk to each other.’”
After spending hours with the protesters and speaking extensively with Yoon, the owner, Mack drafted a response to the Africa Town Coalition’s demands.
Yoon offered to participate in cultural sensitivity training and assist with local substance abuse programs; she agreed to offer more than just liquor and to make a monthly donation to the coalition’s food program. Mack noted that Yoon already had been sponsoring nearby youth programs and that she had previously employed a black clerk for eight years until he retired, and had been trying to hire others since. Yoon had already removed the photos of alleged shoplifters.
In December 2017, as Mack and the protesters were going back and forth about what changes should be made at the store, Yoon quietly sold the business to another Korean owner. Mack said she felt she was being portrayed in an unfairly negative light.
Advertisement
“It was really troubling her obviously,” he said. “It was just getting to be too much.”
Yoon later said that she felt pressured to sell for far less than what Hubert’s was worth. Some of her regulars, she added, implored her to stay, offering to call the police on the protesters on her behalf. She believes it was outsiders, not the community, who pushed her out.
”I never lost the neighborhood’s heart,” she said.
Kevin Wharton Price is seen through a Black Nationalist Flag. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
The aftermath
The protests continued for about a month after the ownership change, but eventually faded away. Since then, Hubert’s has become a symbol of both progress and stagnation.
Simon Choi, the new owner, lowered prices, cleaned up the store’s appearance and began stocking more fresh produce. He holds barbecues in the parking lot, donates beverages every week to Africa Town Coalition’s food giveaway for homeless people and donates $100 monthly to support the group’s activities. This fall, Choi also bought a new leaf blower for a neighborhood beautification project.
The Africa Town Coalition, the Korean American Federation and Mayor Eric Garcetti’s office have explored using lessons from what happened at Hubert’s elsewhere in Los Angeles. They talked of creating a “cultural competency” workshop for business owners to teach them communication skills and the historical context for specific communities, possibly devising a score that would be posted at each store like restaurant sanitation ratings.
But after several meetings, working groups and proposals, the effort has fizzled, with a new South L.A. representative for Garcetti’s office and the community groups moving on to other issues.
Advertisement
Mack said recently that until fundamental inequalities are improved, another situation like Hubert’s probably awaits in some other corner of Los Angeles.
“Unless there are changes that allow the smaller business to be acquired by the average person, it’s still going to be difficult,” he said. “I don’t think the changes have been made that make black ownership any more viable today than it was 25 years ago.”
This fall, there was one final piece of unfinished business from the battle over Hubert’s.
Kevin Wharton Price, one of the protest leaders, walked into a downtown courthouse in November wearing a faded Africa Town sweatshirt. He had come to address the 2-year-old warrant he had received after demonstrating at the store. The penalty: a $400 fine.
To Price, it was worth it for Leimert Park. Besides, he said, he plans to let it go to collections anyway.


latimes--2020-02-12--It's words, not bullets, for the 'bear whisperer' of the Eastern Sierra

Steve Searles is not really a cop , not really a civilian ; he lives in limbo between those two worlds .
And , man , does he live .
Think of him as the Serpico of the Sierra , a little snarly and gruff and frayed around the edges — a ponytailed ex-surfer turned mountain man .
A bit of a hillbilly intellectual without much formal schooling , a void in his resume that both flusters and propels him .
“ It ’ s haunted me my whole life , ” he confesses .
There are lots of contradictions @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of ironies and surprising qualities that make him more than another town character , and worthy of a memoir .
Searles has carved out a niche and a career as Mammoth Lakes ’ “ bear whisperer , ” a protector of the wild things that roam the night : the ubiquitous bears , deer , coyotes and all manner of high-country cat .
He protects the residents and the 2.5 million annual visitors too , though they have the numerical advantage .
They also have guns and cars … warm beds and cozy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ this .
They want decent food and cozy cabins too .
Sometimes , they help themselves .
Back in the 1990s , when he was first hired as go-to guy for Mammoth ’ s critter overpopulation , it was the intrusive coyotes and raccoons that Searles handled .
Mammoth Lakes had thousands of the trespassers under houses and cabins — mean and clever rascals that he trapped and removed before turning his efforts in 1996 to another nuisance , the black bears .
The bears were sweeter souls but even bigger presences , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ break-in , there ’ d be scat everywhere .
The police chief hired him — as a temp — to rid the ski village of half the big vagrants , who ’ d made a habit of plowing through restaurant Dumpsters and frightening the city folks from L.A. and San Francisco who came here to wallpaper the place with $ 100 bills .
The fed-up police chief told Searles , who had a reputation as one of the region ’ s top hunters and trappers , to kill 16 bears .
But along @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the bears , and in turn he learned even more about himself .
“ Dead bears learn nothing , ” he said .
“ If you kill one , another will come in from the mountains to replace it.
” An outside-the-box approach , based largely on stern voice commands , would lead to global recognition , an Animal Planet show , scores of fans and , he says , even a few stalkers .
His obsession and his long hours might also have cost him friendships and a long marriage to his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ up and left .
Yet , Searles is still here , still patrolling the shorelines where the bears tend to congregate , chasing them off the roads where they are in mortal danger , scolding them back into the woods and away from traffic with his trademark “ Bad bear !
Bad bear !
” commands — along with a few other tools in his kit , such as air horns , fireworks and the occasional pepper ball .
“ I ’ m not really the bear whisperer , ” he says .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ yeller.
” But he ’ s more than that .
He ’ s a party on wheels , glib and loaded with rough-edged charisma , mocking his buddies , making fun of himself more than anybody else .
“ I ’ m lazy like Tom Sawyer , ” he says of getting residents to adopt his methods .
“ I got everybody to do my work for me.
” Admittedly , he ’ s sometimes better with the bears than he is with people .
“ Training the bears was easy , ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was hard.
” Born in Torrance and raised in Orange County , Searles quickly tired of the area ’ s bustle and bloat .
In 1976 , at the age of 17 , he headed to the mountains on the advice of a buddy .
“ I ’ m driving up through the high desert ; it ’ s arid and not what I ’ d expected , ” he remembered .
“ And then there it was : Mammoth.
” Searles acclimated quickly , buying a cowboy hat , a dog , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , cleared trees to build roads , and became one of the settlers who grew the tiny mountain village into one of the West ’ s premier ski destinations .
“ We were lost-soul hippies from the ’ 60s , ” said Louise Dessert Inder , who arrived the same year and became a town fixture and a longtime friend .
“ Steve was always super mellow , ” she remembers .
“ He was always a low-key guy.
” Mammoth Lakes was merely a forest hamlet back then — so heavily wooded @ @ @ @ @ @ @ carve out Main Street .
In his off time , the former Orange County surfer/dropout adopted the rhythms of the Eastern Sierra , embracing the beauty and bloody pleasures : trapping and hunting , including bear , elk , deer .
Is this a hobby he now regrets ?
You might think so , yet he insists it gave him the tools he needed to later handle the bears , to learn their habits and homes , when they ’ d retreat to their dens for the winter , how they hunted , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I ’ m a real weirdo , ” he says .
“ If I do it , I overdo it.
” So he didn ’ t rush the bear-hunting assignment , taking months to chart them and plot their domains .
He named them according to their appearances : Big Red , Half Nose , One Ear .
He ’ d stalk them too , climbing trees , even sneaking into their dens .
“ When they would lie down to sleep , I would lie down to sleep , ” recalls Searles @ @ @ @ @ @ @ giant pines only to discover he ’ d been sleeping on a village of angry ants .
He had plenty to study .
California ’ s black bear population is bold and healthy , nearly tripling over the last 25 years .
The California Department of Fish and Wildlife estimates 30,000 to 40,000 black bears live here , the most in the nation and twice as many as in Montana .
The bears mean no harm , generally , a trait Searles picked up on early .
But he knew that open access @ @ @ @ @ @ @ led to bear congestion and damage to homes and property , drawing a backlash among residents .
Bears don ’ t eat ; they gorge , typically 22 hours a day in the pre-winter season .
They will gnaw a tail light , or pick at a seam on a car till they can get to the food inside ; occasionally , they activate an air bag , wreaking havoc when they can ’ t wiggle out .
In many ways , they ’ re smarter than dogs , Searles says , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ or slamming Dumpsters to the ground to break a lock .
“ If they had thumbs , they ’ d be driving these cars away , ” says Mammoth Lakes Police Lt. Eric Hugelman , who oversees Searles .
They are clever yet cartoonish , their eagerness a liability .
Searles once had to tackle a cub to remove a Costco snack jar stuck on the young bear ’ s head .
“ Even a cub is 10 times stronger than I am , ” he says respectfully .
Ideally , as winter @ @ @ @ @ @ @ really fat — blotto on berries , acorns and leaves , because the fatter they get , the luckier they get romantically .
A healthy ursine male , Searles learned , builds a layer of pure white fat , thick as a pillow , to get him through the winter .
Females find this attractive , for , in some internal Darwinian dating metric , a robust male means mama ’ s offspring will be equally robust .
So they eat and eat , which is a black bear ’ s lot in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in trouble with their human neighbors , though black bears are happy eaters , not angry ones .
They are omnivores who hunt meat only when they come across a discarded cheeseburger or a bucket of ribs .
“ A grizzly bear is an apex predator ; he will eat the tire off your truck , ” Searles says .
“ All a black bear wants to do is mow your lawn.
” Once Searles realized they were “ the tie-dyed hippies ” of the animal kingdom , his work seemed less daunting @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a significant pecking order that would shape his approach .
His “ aha !
” moment came late one night in 1996 as he studied them at the town dump .
He was watching a group of the bears feed when the diners suddenly darted off into the woods .
Moments later , a 600-pound bear — nicknamed Big — emerged from the forest .
Searles realized then that , although they are docile , the bears had a chain of command .
“ Big taught me that if you ’ re tough @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a gun , ” he says .
That led to his aggressive yet respectful relationship with the bears , built on knowledge , not bullets .
Not everyone bought in “ Hogwash , ” some said , including bear experts who couldn ’ t accept the findings of a self-trained wildlife officer .
As he was getting going in the late ’ 90s , even some town folks mocked his more humane , touchy-feely approach .
“ Bad bear !
Bad bear !
” they ’ d jeer from the porches as Searles @ @ @ @ @ @ @ But rarely had they encountered anyone so stubborn .
“ My ignorance and lack of education … if I had sat down and read a lot of books , I never would ’ ve put myself out there , ” he explains .
His obsessive nature didn ’ t hurt .
By 1997 , a year into his bear program , Searles was speaking to civic groups ; he worked with restaurants to lock their trash bins ; he charmed and scolded and pleaded .
Ski towns can be tricky towns ; blue-collar @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , though , Mammoth bought in .
The ski resort bought him a truck .
In 2004 , the town hired him on permanently .
His results spoke for themselves .
Residents and visitors didn ’ t like seeing the poky and mirthful bears trapped , darted or killed , so Searles ’ peacenik approach , featuring a combo of voice commands , air horns and firecrackers , slowly gained converts .
Even the media , including this newspaper , took note .
Animal Planet featured him in his own show , “ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ hardly been storybook .
With no filter , and generally distrustful of authority , he got on the bad side of one police chief , who took his badge away over a dispute about staying in touch on patrol .
Never a go-along sort , Searles said the incident was political ; the town reinstated him after supporters swarmed a meeting , saying the bear problem had gotten worse in his absence .
“ I think residents began to realize he knows what he ’ s doing , ” says Inder , his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ this has led to a cultural shift .
Thanks to Searles , bumper stickers now urge : “ Don ’ t feed our bears , ” hinting at a family dynamic .
On the fairways , golfers have learned to play around the bears , going over and around , rather than panicking and calling 911 .
“ One thing Steve has done is made sure locals and visitors don ’ t feed our bears , which ensures they are well-behaved bears , ” said resident Cynthia Hayes .
“ Steve trains the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Hayes said .
Two years ago a very young bear lost its mother .
Searles became the adoptive mom , making sure it wasn ’ t abandoned while making sure it knew boundaries .
Bears have been known to wander into the local Vons and just start snacking .
In fact , food control became foremost in the efforts to control the bear population .
Bears that gorge on scraps tend to be fatter and breed more .
With trash bins secured here , the bear population dipped to what the grasses and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 30 bears lived in Mammoth when he started — has dropped to a dozen or so , as birth rates declined a little each year .
Even the bears seem grateful .
In all his time , Searles has never been hurt , nor has one even taken a swipe at him .
“ I certainly would ’ ve if I were them , ” he says .
Winning professional respect proved trickier .
In 2000 , Searles spoke to the International Assn .
for Bear Research and Management , a symposium of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Wyo .
In his opening statement , the ponytailed expert scolded the audience over the general lack of respect for bears and their emotions .
For emphasis , he laced his presentation with F-bombs .
“ I just was who I was , ” he says .
Bears have emotions ?
The audience was amused , then appalled .
The presentation ended abruptly , clouded with contention .
“ Get me out of here , ” Searles told his travel agent wife , hoping to hop the next plane home .
But @ @ @ @ @ @ @ t reflect the experts ’ individual interest .
The next day , as he was about to bolt for the airport , the world ’ s most renowned bear experts began to corner him one by one , handing him their cards , impressed with his boots-on-the-ground insights .
They wanted to know more .
“ It ’ s hard to know if the bears are his spirit animal , or it ’ s the other way around , ” says Peter Alagona , an associate professor of environmental studies at UC Santa @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Searles ’ findings , which he says were ahead of the pack .
“ He came to conclusions that , for me , more decorated researchers took longer to figure out , ” Alagona says .
The lessons of man and beast These days , Searles remains a nationally recognized expert who has helped over the years with bear problems on the East Coast and in Canada .
Curious lay people also seek him out , crediting him with doing God ’ s work .
For some , he has achieved folk hero @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and he ’ s got that deep baritone voice , ” says former Mammoth Police Chief Dan Watson , Searles ’ boss for almost five years .
“ Steve has become kind of legendary.
” Yet , being a folk hero isn ’ t what Searles set out to do ; he simply enjoys the work .
“ I ’ ve been through four or five generations of bears , ” he says now .
“ I know them since they are cubs.
” For how much longer ?
Who knows ?
He @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 12 town managers , dozens of skeptics , hundreds of bears .
“ I get tired this time of year , ” he says , as the animals go on a pre-winter feeding frenzy .
“ But I ’ m just the luckiest guy ever.
” “ In all my dreams of how this would go , it ’ s been 10 times better , ” he says .
Not that luck is ever-present .
He ’ s dealing with the fallout of his divorce , the quiet of the house after a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ from a flood that happened while he was away — the house filling like a bathtub before the flood was found .
Investments and rental properties help set off what his annual salary of $ 62,000 can ’ t cover .
A self-confessed news junkie and voracious reader , Searles also says he misses following current events , which he now avoids because of the confrontational political tone .
He can ’ t help but apply the lessons of the wild to some of society ’ s current standoffs .
Such as , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ strangers , our first inclination is to fear them , and maybe shoot them dead .
That we ’ re often quicker to hate than to accept , to listen , to learn .
Meanwhile , retirement nears , yet Searles says it holds little appeal .
“ My lifestyle is my job , my hobby , ” he says .
“ All the things people travel to go do , I do at my job.
” At night , he jots notes for a memoir , each chapter on a different Mammoth @ @ @ @ @ @ @ him … Big Red , Half Nose , One Ear , Scout .
Bears are characters , you know , much like him .
Stubborn .
Willful .
Playful .
Strong .
Little by little , Searles continues finding his place in that kingdom ; not atop it — within it — still prowling it late at night as would a watchman or a town crier , an ex-hippie kid with an extraordinary understanding of the mountains and the creatures that call it home .
And when they sleep , he sleeps .

Steve Searles is not really a cop, not really a civilian; he lives in limbo between those two worlds.
And, man, does he live. Think of him as the Serpico of the Sierra, a little snarly and gruff and frayed around the edges — a ponytailed ex-surfer turned mountain man. A bit of a hillbilly intellectual without much formal schooling, a void in his resume that both flusters and propels him.
“It’s haunted me my whole life,” he confesses.
There are lots of contradictions to this 60-year-old wildlife officer, lots of ironies and surprising qualities that make him more than another town character, and worthy of a memoir.
Searles has carved out a niche and a career as Mammoth Lakes’ “bear whisperer,” a protector of the wild things that roam the night: the ubiquitous bears, deer, coyotes and all manner of high-country cat. He protects the residents and the 2.5 million annual visitors too, though they have the numerical advantage. They also have guns and cars … warm beds and cozy, muffin-scented kitchens.
Advertisement
Mammoth Lakes wildlife specialist Steve Searles, a former surfer from Newport Beach, moved to Mammoth 40 years ago. (Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times)
The wildlife sense this. They want decent food and cozy cabins too. Sometimes, they help themselves.
Back in the 1990s, when he was first hired as go-to guy for Mammoth’s critter overpopulation, it was the intrusive coyotes and raccoons that Searles handled. Mammoth Lakes had thousands of the trespassers under houses and cabins — mean and clever rascals that he trapped and removed before turning his efforts in 1996 to another nuisance, the black bears.
The bears were sweeter souls but even bigger presences, some topping 600 pounds. After a break-in, there’d be scat everywhere.
The police chief hired him — as a temp — to rid the ski village of half the big vagrants, who’d made a habit of plowing through restaurant Dumpsters and frightening the city folks from L.A. and San Francisco who came here to wallpaper the place with $100 bills. The fed-up police chief told Searles, who had a reputation as one of the region’s top hunters and trappers, to kill 16 bears.
“Right, chief,” Searles said. “On it.”
But along the way, he learned something about the bears, and in turn he learned even more about himself.
Advertisement
“Dead bears learn nothing,” he said. “If you kill one, another will come in from the mountains to replace it.”
An outside-the-box approach, based largely on stern voice commands, would lead to global recognition, an Animal Planet show, scores of fans and, he says, even a few stalkers.
His obsession and his long hours might also have cost him friendships and a long marriage to his wife, Debra, who recently packed up and left.
‘A grizzly bear is an apex predator; he will eat the tire off your truck. All a black bear wants to do is mow your lawn.’ — Steve Searles
A sow and her cub, born in the spring. (Robert Gourley / Los Angeles Times)
Yet, Searles is still here, still patrolling the shorelines where the bears tend to congregate, chasing them off the roads where they are in mortal danger, scolding them back into the woods and away from traffic with his trademark “Bad bear! Bad bear!” commands — along with a few other tools in his kit, such as air horns, fireworks and the occasional pepper ball.
Advertisement
“I’m not really the bear whisperer,” he says. “I’m more the bear yeller.”
But he’s more than that. He’s a party on wheels, glib and loaded with rough-edged charisma, mocking his buddies, making fun of himself more than anybody else.
“I’m lazy like Tom Sawyer,” he says of getting residents to adopt his methods. “I got everybody to do my work for me.”
Admittedly, he’s sometimes better with the bears than he is with people.
“Training the bears was easy,” Searles says. “Training the people was hard.”
An Orange County kid
Born in Torrance and raised in Orange County, Searles quickly tired of the area’s bustle and bloat. In 1976, at the age of 17, he headed to the mountains on the advice of a buddy.
Advertisement
“I’m driving up through the high desert; it’s arid and not what I’d expected,” he remembered. “And then there it was: Mammoth.”
“Bear whisperer” Steve Searles patrols the town of Mammoth Lakes. (Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times)
Searles acclimated quickly, buying a cowboy hat, a dog, a truck. He worked construction awhile, cleared trees to build roads, and became one of the settlers who grew the tiny mountain village into one of the West’s premier ski destinations.
“We were lost-soul hippies from the ’60s,” said Louise Dessert Inder, who arrived the same year and became a town fixture and a longtime friend.
“Steve was always super mellow,” she remembers. “He was always a low-key guy.”
Mammoth Lakes was merely a forest hamlet back then — so heavily wooded that they felled 1,500 trees just to carve out Main Street.
In his off time, the former Orange County surfer/dropout adopted the rhythms of the Eastern Sierra, embracing the beauty and bloody pleasures: trapping and hunting, including bear, elk, deer.
Advertisement
Column One A showcase for compelling storytelling from the Los Angeles Times. More Stories
Is this a hobby he now regrets?
You might think so, yet he insists it gave him the tools he needed to later handle the bears, to learn their habits and homes, when they’d retreat to their dens for the winter, how they hunted, what they needed to survive.
“I’m a real weirdo,” he says. “If I do it, I overdo it.”
“It’s hard to know if the bears are his spirit animal, or it’s the other way around,” a UC Santa Barbara expert says of Searles. (Robert Gourley / Los Angeles Times)
So he didn’t rush the bear-hunting assignment, taking months to chart them and plot their domains. He named them according to their appearances: Big Red, Half Nose, One Ear.
He’d stalk them too, climbing trees, even sneaking into their dens.
“When they would lie down to sleep, I would lie down to sleep,” recalls Searles, who once curled up under some giant pines only to discover he’d been sleeping on a village of angry ants.
He had plenty to study. California’s black bear population is bold and healthy, nearly tripling over the last 25 years. The California Department of Fish and Wildlife estimates 30,000 to 40,000 black bears live here, the most in the nation and twice as many as in Montana.
A bear named Scout raids a bird feeder in Mammoth Lakes. “A fed bear is a dead bear,” locals now realize. (Cynthia Hayes)
Advertisement
The bears mean no harm, generally, a trait Searles picked up on early. But he knew that open access to food scraps and bird feeders had led to bear congestion and damage to homes and property, drawing a backlash among residents.
Bears don’t eat; they gorge, typically 22 hours a day in the pre-winter season.
They will gnaw a tail light, or pick at a seam on a car till they can get to the food inside; occasionally, they activate an air bag, wreaking havoc when they can’t wiggle out. In many ways, they’re smarter than dogs, Searles says, and surprisingly adept at doorknobs and latches, or slamming Dumpsters to the ground to break a lock.
“If they had thumbs, they’d be driving these cars away,” says Mammoth Lakes Police Lt. Eric Hugelman, who oversees Searles.
They are clever yet cartoonish, their eagerness a liability. Searles once had to tackle a cub to remove a Costco snack jar stuck on the young bear’s head.
“Even a cub is 10 times stronger than I am,” he says respectfully.
Ideally, as winter nears, the bears get fat, really fat — blotto on berries, acorns and leaves, because the fatter they get, the luckier they get romantically.
Advertisement
A healthy ursine male, Searles learned, builds a layer of pure white fat, thick as a pillow, to get him through the winter. Females find this attractive, for, in some internal Darwinian dating metric, a robust male means mama’s offspring will be equally robust.
So they eat and eat, which is a black bear’s lot in life and the thing that gets them in trouble with their human neighbors, though black bears are happy eaters, not angry ones. They are omnivores who hunt meat only when they come across a discarded cheeseburger or a bucket of ribs.
“A grizzly bear is an apex predator; he will eat the tire off your truck,” Searles says. “All a black bear wants to do is mow your lawn.”
Once Searles realized they were “the tie-dyed hippies” of the animal kingdom, his work seemed less daunting. But he did pick up on a significant pecking order that would shape his approach.
His “aha!” moment came late one night in 1996 as he studied them at the town dump. He was watching a group of the bears feed when the diners suddenly darted off into the woods. Moments later, a 600-pound bear — nicknamed Big — emerged from the forest.
Searles realized then that, although they are docile, the bears had a chain of command.
Advertisement
“Big taught me that if you’re tough you shouldn’t have to carry a gun,” he says.
That led to his aggressive yet respectful relationship with the bears, built on knowledge, not bullets.
Not everyone bought in
“Hogwash,” some said, including bear experts who couldn’t accept the findings of a self-trained wildlife officer.
As he was getting going in the late ’90s, even some town folks mocked his more humane, touchy-feely approach.
“Bad bear! Bad bear!” they’d jeer from the porches as Searles scolded a trespasser back to safety.
But rarely had they encountered anyone so stubborn.
“My ignorance and lack of education … if I had sat down and read a lot of books, I never would’ve put myself out there,” he explains.
Advertisement
His obsessive nature didn’t hurt. By 1997, a year into his bear program, Searles was speaking to civic groups; he worked with restaurants to lock their trash bins; he charmed and scolded and pleaded. Ski towns can be tricky towns; blue-collar ethos mixed with white-collar excess.
Eventually, though, Mammoth bought in. The ski resort bought him a truck. In 2004, the town hired him on permanently.
His results spoke for themselves. Residents and visitors didn’t like seeing the poky and mirthful bears trapped, darted or killed, so Searles’ peacenik approach, featuring a combo of voice commands, air horns and firecrackers, slowly gained converts. Even the media, including this newspaper, took note. Animal Planet featured him in his own show, “The Bear Whisperer.”
His career has hardly been storybook. With no filter, and generally distrustful of authority, he got on the bad side of one police chief, who took his badge away over a dispute about staying in touch on patrol.
Never a go-along sort, Searles said the incident was political; the town reinstated him after supporters swarmed a meeting, saying the bear problem had gotten worse in his absence.
“I think residents began to realize he knows what he’s doing,” says Inder, his longtime friend.
Advertisement
In Mammoth, all this has led to a cultural shift. Thanks to Searles, bumper stickers now urge: “Don’t feed our bears,” hinting at a family dynamic. On the fairways, golfers have learned to play around the bears, going over and around, rather than panicking and calling 911.
Golfers have learned to play around the bears, rather than panicking and calling 911. (Robert Gourley / Los Angeles Times)
“One thing Steve has done is made sure locals and visitors don’t feed our bears, which ensures they are well-behaved bears,” said resident Cynthia Hayes.
(Not every place is as far along: In October, the Canadian town of Penticton euthanized five black bears that were getting into garbage that residents left out.)
“Steve trains the bears to be almost invisible,” Hayes said.
Two years ago a very young bear lost its mother. Searles became the adoptive mom, making sure it wasn’t abandoned while making sure it knew boundaries. Bears have been known to wander into the local Vons and just start snacking.
In fact, food control became foremost in the efforts to control the bear population. Bears that gorge on scraps tend to be fatter and breed more. With trash bins secured here, the bear population dipped to what the grasses and wildflowers could sustain. The population — 30 bears lived in Mammoth when he started — has dropped to a dozen or so, as birth rates declined a little each year.
Advertisement
Even the bears seem grateful. In all his time, Searles has never been hurt, nor has one even taken a swipe at him.
“I certainly would’ve if I were them,” he says.
Winning professional respect proved trickier. In 2000, Searles spoke to the International Assn. for Bear Research and Management, a symposium of biologists and wildlife officers in Jackson Hole, Wyo. In his opening statement, the ponytailed expert scolded the audience over the general lack of respect for bears and their emotions. For emphasis, he laced his presentation with F-bombs.
“I just was who I was,” he says.
Bears have emotions? The audience was amused, then appalled. The presentation ended abruptly, clouded with contention.
“Get me out of here,” Searles told his travel agent wife, hoping to hop the next plane home.
But the mob’s reaction didn’t reflect the experts’ individual interest. The next day, as he was about to bolt for the airport, the world’s most renowned bear experts began to corner him one by one, handing him their cards, impressed with his boots-on-the-ground insights.
They wanted to know more.
“It’s hard to know if the bears are his spirit animal, or it’s the other way around,” says Peter Alagona, an associate professor of environmental studies at UC Santa Barbara.
Advertisement
Alagona speaks with admiration for Searles’ findings, which he says were ahead of the pack.
“He came to conclusions that, for me, more decorated researchers took longer to figure out,” Alagona says.
The lessons of man and beast
These days, Searles remains a nationally recognized expert who has helped over the years with bear problems on the East Coast and in Canada.
Curious lay people also seek him out, crediting him with doing God’s work. For some, he has achieved folk hero status.
“He looks like Jesus and he’s got that deep baritone voice,” says former Mammoth Police Chief Dan Watson, Searles’ boss for almost five years. “Steve has become kind of legendary.”
Yet, being a folk hero isn’t what Searles set out to do; he simply enjoys the work.
Advertisement
“I’ve been through four or five generations of bears,” he says now. “I know them since they are cubs.”
For how much longer? Who knows? He’s been through five mayors, 12 town managers, dozens of skeptics, hundreds of bears.
“I get tired this time of year,” he says, as the animals go on a pre-winter feeding frenzy. “But I’m just the luckiest guy ever.”
“In all my dreams of how this would go, it’s been 10 times better,” he says.
Not that luck is ever-present. He’s dealing with the fallout of his divorce, the quiet of the house after a long marriage, some major repair bills from a flood that happened while he was away — the house filling like a bathtub before the flood was found.
Investments and rental properties help set off what his annual salary of $62,000 can’t cover.
Advertisement
A self-confessed news junkie and voracious reader, Searles also says he misses following current events, which he now avoids because of the confrontational political tone.
He can’t help but apply the lessons of the wild to some of society’s current standoffs. Such as, how when we don’t understand strangers, our first inclination is to fear them, and maybe shoot them dead. That we’re often quicker to hate than to accept, to listen, to learn.
Meanwhile, retirement nears, yet Searles says it holds little appeal.
“My lifestyle is my job, my hobby,” he says. “All the things people travel to go do, I do at my job.”
At night, he jots notes for a memoir, each chapter on a different Mammoth bear and the things the animal taught him … Big Red, Half Nose, One Ear, Scout.
Bears are characters, you know, much like him. Stubborn. Willful. Playful. Strong.
Advertisement
Little by little, Searles continues finding his place in that kingdom; not atop it — within it — still prowling it late at night as would a watchman or a town crier, an ex-hippie kid with an extraordinary understanding of the mountains and the creatures that call it home.
And when they sleep, he sleeps.


latimes--2020-02-12--With more wind this weekend, Southern California will likely remain dry through February

If you liked Southern California ’ s windy weather over the last few days , you should love the system expected to arrive over the weekend .
Another moisture-starved low-pressure system , known as an inside slider , will move into Northern California on Sunday , bringing a few degrees of cooling and increasing clouds but no precipitation .
The trough will move farther south Monday , bringing the potential for strong , gusty winds lasting into Tuesday .
Last weekend , an inside slider briefly shifted far enough west to pick up some moisture and spin it into the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a meteorologist at the National Weather Service in Oxnard .
Our next inside slider will be a little drier , and the winds won ’ t be quite as strong .
“ The next two weeks look really dry , ” said Hoxsie .
Last weekend ’ s system didn ’ t bring much rain , but it did fuel some strong winds .
“ Some of our strongest Santa Ana wind events look like this , ” said climatologist Bill Patzert .
They tend to be cold because they come with strong @ @ @ @ @ @ @ pressure over the Great Basin or Four Corners region like a classic Santa Ana wind event , these inside sliders result from a low pressure system moving south over land in California .
Because it approaches over land , the storm doesn ’ t pick up moisture like a system moving over the Pacific Ocean .
The winds are a product of the relative position of the low and a big Pacific high off the coast , which creates a strong pressure gradient that intensifies the winds .
The effect is the same @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the cause is different , said Patzert .
“ An offshore flow scenario like this gives us some of the cleanest air of the year , ” said Patzert .
“ The good news is that the air is clean , but the bad news is that it ’ s full of pollen from the high desert .
It ’ s clean but sneezy weather.
” Another piece of bad news is the lack of rain as the blocking high in the Pacific dominates .
Northern and Central California continue to lag further @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , and some Southern California locations that were normal or above are also slipping below normal .
“ Our early , promising rain has definitely fizzled , ” said Patzert .
“ We ’ re on a dry trajectory and reaching normal will be a stretch.
” After a dry fall in Northern California , the season that started with a powerful “ bomb cyclone ” in late November and an atmospheric river that dumped torrential rain on the mountains around Big Sur has turned disappointingly dry .
“ Mother Nature is hanging @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Patzert .

If you liked Southern California’s windy weather over the last few days, you should love the system expected to arrive over the weekend.
Another moisture-starved low-pressure system, known as an inside slider, will move into Northern California on Sunday, bringing a few degrees of cooling and increasing clouds but no precipitation. The trough will move farther south Monday, bringing the potential for strong, gusty winds lasting into Tuesday.
Last weekend, an inside slider briefly shifted far enough west to pick up some moisture and spin it into the area, according to Kathy Hoxsie, a meteorologist at the National Weather Service in Oxnard. Our next inside slider will be a little drier, and the winds won’t be quite as strong. “The next two weeks look really dry,” said Hoxsie.
Advertisement
Last weekend’s system didn’t bring much rain, but it did fuel some strong winds.
“Some of our strongest Santa Ana wind events look like this,” said climatologist Bill Patzert. They tend to be cold because they come with strong northerly winds.
A typical Santa Ana scenario, with a large surface high in the Great Basin region. (Paul Duginski / Los Angeles Times)
Instead of surface high pressure over the Great Basin or Four Corners region like a classic Santa Ana wind event, these inside sliders result from a low pressure system moving south over land in California. Because it approaches over land, the storm doesn’t pick up moisture like a system moving over the Pacific Ocean.
The winds are a product of the relative position of the low and a big Pacific high off the coast, which creates a strong pressure gradient that intensifies the winds. The effect is the same as classic Santa Ana winds, but the cause is different, said Patzert.
A low-pressure system called an inside slider — because it moves southward over land instead of water — interacts with a large Pacific high-pressure system to create a strong pressure gradient and strong winds. (Paul Duginski / Los Angeles Times)
Advertisement
“An offshore flow scenario like this gives us some of the cleanest air of the year,” said Patzert. “The good news is that the air is clean, but the bad news is that it’s full of pollen from the high desert. It’s clean but sneezy weather.”
Another piece of bad news is the lack of rain as the blocking high in the Pacific dominates. Northern and Central California continue to lag further behind normal as the rainfall season progresses, and some Southern California locations that were normal or above are also slipping below normal.
“Our early, promising rain has definitely fizzled,” said Patzert. “We’re on a dry trajectory and reaching normal will be a stretch.”
After a dry fall in Northern California, the season that started with a powerful “bomb cyclone” in late November and an atmospheric river that dumped torrential rain on the mountains around Big Sur has turned disappointingly dry.
“Mother Nature is hanging us out to dry,” concludes Patzert.


latimes--2020-02-11--Kobe Bryant and daughter Gianna were buried in a private family service last week

Kobe Bryant and his 13-year-old daughter , Gianna , were buried in a private family service near the family ’ s Orange County home last week , according to death certificates .
A death certificate for Bryant , 41 , states that his disposition occurred on Feb. 7 at Pacific View Memorial Park in Corona del Mar .
It had been originally planned for Westwood Village Memorial Park but was changed .
A memorial service is planned for Bryant and his daughter Feb. 24 at Staples Center .
The event will cap weeks of tributes across the city following the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ icon , Gianna , as well the helicopter pilot and parents , players and a coach on Bryant ’ s Mamba Sports Academy basketball team .
on Monday wrote on Instagram about the loss she and her family have been feeling .
“ I ’ ve been reluctant to put my feelings into words .
My brain refuses to accept that both Kobe and Gigi are gone , ” she wrote .
“ I can ’ t process both at the same time .
It ’ s like I ’ m trying to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ refuses to accept my Gigi will never come back to me .
It feels wrong .
Why should I be able to wake up another day when my baby girl isn ’ t being able to have that opportunity ?
!
I ’ m so mad .
She had so much life to live .
”

Kobe Bryant and his 13-year-old daughter, Gianna, were buried in a private family service near the family’s Orange County home last week, according to death certificates.
A death certificate for Bryant, 41, states that his “final disposition” occurred Feb. 7 at Pacific View Memorial Park in Corona del Mar. It had been originally planned for Westwood Village Memorial Park but was changed.
A memorial service is planned for Bryant and his daughter Feb. 24 at Staples Center. The event will cap weeks of tributes across the city following the Jan. 26 crash that killed the Lakers icon and Gianna, as well the helicopter pilot and parents, players and a coach on Bryant’s Mamba Sports Academy basketball team.
Advertisement
Vanessa Bryant on Monday wrote on Instagram about the loss she and her family had been feeling.
“I’ve been reluctant to put my feelings into words. My brain refuses to accept that both Kobe and Gigi are gone,” she wrote.
“I can’t process both at the same time. It’s like I’m trying to process Kobe being gone but my body refuses to accept my Gigi will never come back to me. It feels wrong. Why should I be able to wake up another day when my baby girl isn’t being able to have that opportunity?! I’m so mad. She had so much life to live.”


latimes--2020-02-11--Car pursued by police crashes into truck in North Hollywood; 3 hospitalized

A driver being followed by police crashed into a truck Tuesday afternoon , sending three people to the hospital .
According to preliminary reports from Los Angeles Police Department , police began following the car because officers suspected it was stolen .
About 12:45 p.m. , the car T-boned a truck passing through an intersection in a neighborhood near Tujunga Avenue and Erwin Street , according to surveillance video acquired by KCBS-TV Channel 2 .
The crash took out a streetlight and sent the truck rolling into a nearby yard and the car upside-down on a sidewalk .
Officer Mike @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , said he did not know the make or model of either vehicle or whether the car was actually stolen .
Two people in the car were trapped after it flipped .
They were taken to a hospital in critical condition after being removed from the vehicle by the Los Angeles Fire Department , Lopez said .
A third passenger was arrested when he tried to flee the scene , police said .
The driver of the truck was taken to a hospital in stable condition , Lopez said .
Lopez said he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ police had been following the car or how fast the officers or car were traveling when the crash occurred .

Approximate location of an accident Tuesday that sent three people to the hospital.
A driver being followed by police crashed into a truck Tuesday afternoon, sending three people to the hospital.
According to preliminary reports from Los Angeles Police Department, police began following the car because officers suspected it was stolen.
About 12:45 p.m., the car T-boned a truck passing through an intersection in a neighborhood near Tujunga Avenue and Erwin Street, according to surveillance video acquired by KCBS-TV Channel 2. The crash took out a streetlight and sent the truck rolling into a nearby yard and the car upside-down on a sidewalk.
Officer Mike Lopez, an LAPD public information officer, said he did not know the make or model of either vehicle or whether the car was actually stolen.
Advertisement
Two people in the car were trapped after it flipped. They were taken to a hospital in critical condition after being removed from the vehicle by the Los Angeles Fire Department, Lopez said. A third passenger was arrested when he tried to flee the scene, police said.
The driver of the truck was taken to a hospital in stable condition, Lopez said.
Lopez said he did not have information on how long police had been following the car or how fast the officers or car were traveling when the crash occurred.


latimes--2020-02-11--L.A. wins appeal in fight with Uber over scooter and bike data

Los Angeles officials were right to suspend Uber ’ s permit to rent out scooters and electric bicycles in the city because the company refused to share real-time data on its riders ’ trips , a hearing officer found Tuesday .
The 13-page decision is a blow to Uber ’ s subsidiary Jump , which has been fighting for more than a year against a data-sharing rule imposed by the city ’ s Transportation Department .
Uber spokesman Davis White said the company will appeal the decision .
For now , customers can still rent the vivid red scooters and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ We have been clear for months that we have serious privacy concerns about LADOT ’ s requirements to collect real-time , individual trip data on our riders in Los Angeles , ” White said .
“ We believe that best in class data aggregation methods could deliver LADOT near-real time data — while protecting the identity of Los Angeles residents and our riders.
” The city requires that companies transmit real-time data on the start point and end point of each trip , and the full route of each ride within a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , arguing that the data could easily be used to reveal personal information about riders , including where they live , work , socialize or worship .
In a statement , Transportation Department spokeswoman Connie Llanos said the decision “ upholds the city ’ s common sense permit requirements , designed to protect the safety and quality of life for local residents.
” The data is used to determine which companies are flouting the permit program ’ s rules , including flooding some neighborhoods with vehicles and leaving scooters parked in areas where @ @ @ @ @ @ @ city has said .
Officials have also argued that the companies can not be trusted to regulate themselves .
The city ’ s one-year permit program ends March 15 .
The eight companies with permits to operate in L.A. — including Bird , Lime and Lyft — manage a fleet of about 32,000 scooters and bikes that see about 1 million trips per month .
The city suspended Uber ’ s operating permit in October after six months of back-and-forth .
Uber appealed the decision .
The appeal was heard last month by @ @ @ @ @ @ @ has handled appeals for multiple city departments , including the Los Angeles Fire Department and the Department of Cannabis Regulation .
In his decision , Shapiro wrote that the Transportation Department had “ properly suspended ” Uber ’ s permit for violating the city ’ s data submission rules .
The company had applied for a permit voluntarily , he wrote , and had “ the ability to withdraw or omit its application at any time.
” But both sides , he said , had weak points in their arguments : Uber ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ scooter data being used to personally identify a rider , he said , “ although the abstract concern is real.
” The city , he said , did not explain what problems could be prevented or solved with data that is reported within five seconds .

Los Angeles officials were right to suspend Uber’s permit to rent out scooters and electric bicycles in the city because the company refused to share real-time data on its riders’ trips, a hearing officer found Tuesday.
The 13-page decision is a blow to Uber’s subsidiary Jump, which has been fighting for more than a year against a data-sharing rule imposed by the city’s Transportation Department.
Uber spokesman Davis White said the company will appeal the decision. For now, customers can still rent the vivid red scooters and electric bikes through the Jump app.
Advertisement
“We have been clear for months that we have serious privacy concerns about LADOT’s requirements to collect real-time, individual trip data on our riders in Los Angeles,” White said. “We believe that best in class data aggregation methods could deliver LADOT near-real time data — while protecting the identity of Los Angeles residents and our riders.”
The city requires that companies transmit real-time data on the start point and end point of each trip, and the full route of each ride within a day. Uber has refused to comply, arguing that the data could easily be used to reveal personal information about riders, including where they live, work, socialize or worship.
In a statement, Transportation Department spokeswoman Connie Llanos said the decision “upholds the city’s common sense permit requirements, designed to protect the safety and quality of life for local residents.”
The data is used to determine which companies are flouting the permit program’s rules, including flooding some neighborhoods with vehicles and leaving scooters parked in areas where they shouldn’t be, the city has said. Officials have also argued that the companies cannot be trusted to regulate themselves.
The city’s one-year permit program ends March 15. The eight companies with permits to operate in L.A. — including Bird, Lime and Lyft — manage a fleet of about 32,000 scooters and bikes that see about 1 million trips per month.
The city suspended Uber’s operating permit in October after six months of back-and-forth.
Advertisement
Uber appealed the decision. The appeal was heard last month by David B. Shapiro, a lawyer who has handled appeals for multiple city departments, including the Los Angeles Fire Department and the Department of Cannabis Regulation.
In his decision, Shapiro wrote that the Transportation Department had “properly suspended” Uber’s permit for violating the city’s data submission rules. The company had applied for a permit voluntarily, he wrote, and had “the ability to withdraw or omit its application at any time.”
But both sides, he said, had weak points in their arguments: Uber’s attorneys did not provide examples of scooter data being used to personally identify a rider, he said, “although the abstract concern is real.”
The city, he said, did not explain what problems could be prevented or solved with data that is reported within five seconds.


latimes--2020-02-11--Should L.A. park rangers carry guns? A city councilman says yes

Los Angeles City Councilman Joe Buscaino wants to change city rules to allow park rangers to carry guns , arguing that it would better protect both rangers and parkgoers .
In a proposal introduced Tuesday , Buscaino argued that park rangers routinely patrol “ remote and desolate areas ” and should have access to “ all law enforcement tools and equipment ” to keep people safe .
“ Park rangers are sworn police officers .
They already receive firearm training from LAPD .
And they ’ re being asked to do a lot more , ” Buscaino said in an @ @ @ @ @ @ @ added protection to those rangers who are the front lines of public safety in our parks.
” Chief Park Ranger Joe Losorelli called it “ way overdue.
” If a gunman was at the Greek Theatre , Losorelli said , “ the public would want us to go in and assess that threat — but we wouldn ’ t be able to.
” The idea alarmed progressive activists who advocate for homeless people camping out in city parks .
At Echo Park Lake , activists with the Services Not Sweeps coalition have turned @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that people should be able to stay in the parks in the face of a shelter shortage .
Arielle Sallai , an activist with Democratic Socialists of America-Los Angeles , called the proposal “ extremely dangerous ” and “ a reflection of overblown fears that people have about unhoused people in public spaces.
” “ It terrifies me , ” Sallai said of the prospect of arming park rangers .
“ Unhoused folks are the ones who are unsafe here.
” Pete White , executive director of the skid row advocacy group Los @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was also worried .
“ More weapons in the hands of humans means more uses of force — not less , ” White said of the proposal .
In reaction to such concerns , Buscaino argued that arming the rangers would better protect everyone who uses the parks , including homeless people who have faced “ a drastic increase in victimization.
” The Department of Recreation and Parks has thrown its support behind the proposal .
The agency has 22 sworn park rangers and is planning to expand to 50 rangers — a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ its parks that the city was unable to address during a hiring freeze , its spokeswoman Rose Watson said .
L.A. park rangers have pushed to be able to carry guns in the past : More than two decades ago , rangers complained that they had found themselves helpless as they faced gang members toting guns in city parks .
“ Over the years they ’ ve had rangers accosted .
They ’ ve had rangers shot at , ” said Marshall McClain , president of the Los Angeles Airport Peace Officers Assn.
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ Some left for other agencies.
” At the time , then-Councilman Rudy Svorinich advocated to arm the rangers , telling The Times that the rangers were “ dealing with more nefarious individuals than Yogi Bear.
” But the idea got pushback from top officials at the Los Angeles Police Department , who argued that it was better for rangers to rely on police officers than to arm themselves .
The same idea arose much more recently in San Jose , which ultimately decided not to arm its park rangers , instead @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” during homeless encampment cleanups and patrols .
In L.A. , chief park ranger Losorelli argued that park rangers shouldn ’ t have to rely on the LAPD for armed backup .
“ It makes no sense to me to have a law enforcement officer in the park ” — a ranger — “ and then say , ‘ We have to go call LAPD because we don ’ t have guns , ’ ” Losorelli said .
“ We ’ re the first responders in the park.
” Matt Cerkel , president @ @ @ @ @ @ @ California , rattled off a number of agencies that arm park rangers , including those that patrol the state parks , but said the practice tends to be less common in smaller agencies .
The proposal heads to a council committee focused on parks for further review .
Councilman David Ryu , who heads that committee , said Tuesday that he opposes arming rangers because “ we need fewer guns in our parks , not more.
” “ I ’ m all for increased safety in our parks , but I don ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to get there , ” Ryu said in a statement .
“ I ’ m open to hearing more from the department , but I would need a very good reason to even consider this .
”

Los Angeles City Councilman Joe Buscaino wants to change city rules to allow park rangers to carry guns, arguing that it would better protect both rangers and parkgoers.
In a proposal introduced Tuesday, Buscaino argued that park rangers routinely patrol “remote and desolate areas” and should have access to “all law enforcement tools and equipment” to keep people safe.
“Park rangers are sworn police officers. They already receive firearm training from LAPD. And they’re being asked to do a lot more,” Buscaino said in an interview. “This is just giving added protection to those rangers who are the front lines of public safety in our parks.”
Advertisement
Chief Park Ranger Joe Losorelli called it “way overdue.” If a gunman was at the Greek Theatre, Losorelli said, “the public would want us to go in and assess that threat — but we wouldn’t be able to.”
The idea alarmed progressive activists who advocate for homeless people camping out in city parks. At Echo Park Lake, activists with the Services Not Sweeps coalition have turned out to protest enforcement efforts, arguing that people should be able to stay in the parks in the face of a shelter shortage.
Arielle Sallai, an activist with Democratic Socialists of America-Los Angeles, called the proposal “extremely dangerous” and “a reflection of overblown fears that people have about unhoused people in public spaces.”
“It terrifies me,” Sallai said of the prospect of arming park rangers. “Unhoused folks are the ones who are unsafe here.”
Pete White, executive director of the skid row advocacy group Los Angeles Community Action Network, said he was also worried. “More weapons in the hands of humans means more uses of force — not less,” White said of the proposal.
In reaction to such concerns, Buscaino argued that arming the rangers would better protect everyone who uses the parks, including homeless people who have faced “a drastic increase in victimization.”
Advertisement
The Department of Recreation and Parks has thrown its support behind the proposal. The agency has 22 sworn park rangers and is planning to expand to 50 rangers — a massive expansion reflecting longtime needs to protect its parks that the city was unable to address during a hiring freeze, its spokeswoman Rose Watson said.
L.A. park rangers have pushed to be able to carry guns in the past: More than two decades ago, rangers complained that they had found themselves helpless as they faced gang members toting guns in city parks.
“Over the years they’ve had rangers accosted. They’ve had rangers shot at,” said Marshall McClain, president of the Los Angeles Airport Peace Officers Assn., which now represents the park rangers. “Some left for other agencies.”
At the time, then-Councilman Rudy Svorinich advocated to arm the rangers, telling The Times that the rangers were “dealing with more nefarious individuals than Yogi Bear.”
But the idea got pushback from top officials at the Los Angeles Police Department, who argued that it was better for rangers to rely on police officers than to arm themselves.
The same idea arose much more recently in San Jose, which ultimately decided not to arm its park rangers, instead opting to provide more “police support” during homeless encampment cleanups and patrols. In L.A., chief park ranger Losorelli argued that park rangers shouldn’t have to rely on the LAPD for armed backup.
“It makes no sense to me to have a law enforcement officer in the park” — a ranger — “and then say, ‘We have to go call LAPD because we don’t have guns,’” Losorelli said. “We’re the first responders in the park.”
Matt Cerkel, president of the Park Rangers Assn. of California, rattled off a number of agencies that arm park rangers, including those that patrol the state parks, but said the practice tends to be less common in smaller agencies.
The proposal heads to a council committee focused on parks for further review. Councilman David Ryu, who heads that committee, said Tuesday that he opposes arming rangers because “we need fewer guns in our parks, not more.”
“I’m all for increased safety in our parks, but I don’t think this is the right way to get there,” Ryu said in a statement. “I’m open to hearing more from the department, but I would need a very good reason to even consider this.”


latimes--2020-02-11--Death toll in Camp fire probably includes 50 more people, report says

Doctors and other experts say at least 50 more people , many of them elderly or ill , probably died as a result of the 2018 wildfire that devastated the town of Paradise , Calif. , but were not counted in the official death toll , an investigation by the Chico Enterprise-Record found .
Authorities have said the deadliest wildfire in California history killed 86 people .
But the newspaper reported Tuesday that it had identified at least 50 more people whose deaths were linked to the fire but not attributed to it .
The additional people lived in homes @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the towns of Magalia , Paradise and Concow , according to addresses on wrongful death claims filed as part of a legal case against Pacific Gas & Electric Co .
The utility ’ s equipment was blamed for starting the fire .
Each claim was vetted by a medical expert and a lawyer , and claimants had to gather evidence showing the person would not have died were it not for the fire .
Some claims were turned down , lawyers said , because the evidence would not necessarily stand in court .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ record claims is not perfect , so the number may not be exact .
Joe Earley , a lawyer representing several claims against PG & E and a survivor of the fire , called the list “ the tip of the iceberg.
” He said most of the people whose family members he represents had health issues , were elderly and died shortly after the fire .
“ I believe those people are just as much a victim as everyone else , ” he said .
Obituaries and GoFundMe pages offer an additional @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and wife who were deeply involved in Paradise community organizations died within a few months of each other .
There was also a grandmother for whom losing her home was just too much stress .
One person had a stroke after leaving anti-stroke medication behind when fleeing , Earley said .
Another person on the list is Ramona Ward , a 95-year-old who had a rental business and lived on her own , her daughter , Virginia Kraft , said .
She was in rehabilitation in Paradise after a successful surgery when the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Chico facility where she got sick with a norovirus .
She died in January .
Her death certificate cites hypertension and a cerebrovascular accident .

The official death toll from the Camp fire in Paradise, Calif. stands at 86, but doctors and other experts say the number is probably much higher.
Doctors and other experts say at least 50 more people, many of them elderly or ill, probably died as a result of the 2018 wildfire that devastated the town of Paradise, Calif., but were not counted in the official death toll, an investigation by the Chico Enterprise-Record found.
Authorities have said the deadliest wildfire in California history killed 86 people. But the newspaper reported Tuesday that it had identified at least 50 more people whose deaths were linked to the fire but not attributed to it.
The additional people lived in homes, retirement communities and nursing facilities in the towns of Magalia, Paradise and Concow, according to addresses on wrongful death claims filed as part of a legal case against Pacific Gas & Electric Co. The utility’s equipment was blamed for starting the fire.
Each claim was vetted by a medical expert and a lawyer, and claimants had to gather evidence showing the person would not have died were it not for the fire. Some claims were turned down, lawyers said, because the evidence would not necessarily stand in court.
Advertisement
Attorneys said the online database used to record claims is not perfect, so the number may not be exact.
Joe Earley, a lawyer representing several claims against PG&E and a survivor of the fire, called the list “the tip of the iceberg.” He said most of the people whose family members he represents had health issues, were elderly and died shortly after the fire.
“I believe those people are just as much a victim as everyone else,” he said.
Obituaries and GoFundMe pages offer an additional glimpse into their lives. A husband and wife who were deeply involved in Paradise community organizations died within a few months of each other. There was also a grandmother for whom losing her home was just too much stress. One person had a stroke after leaving anti-stroke medication behind when fleeing, Earley said.
Another person on the list is Ramona Ward, a 95-year-old who had a rental business and lived on her own, her daughter, Virginia Kraft, said. She was in rehabilitation in Paradise after a successful surgery when the fire hit and was moved to a Chico facility where she got sick with a norovirus. She died in January. Her death certificate cites hypertension and a cerebrovascular accident.


latimes--2020-02-11--Metro secures $1.3 billion to finish the Purple Line subway to West L.A.

The long-awaited Los Angeles County subway line that will whisk commuters between downtown and the Westside has secured the last major piece of funding needed to finish the project , officials said Tuesday .
The Metropolitan Transportation Authority expects to formally accept a $ 1.3-billion federal grant for the Purple Line in about a month , following a mandatory 30-day review period in Congress , officials said .
After the congressional review period ends , Metro can “ redouble our work to establish a fast and effective rail line , ” said Inglewood Mayor James Butts , the chair of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
The funding agreement was announced by Sen. Dianne Feinstein ( D-Calif. ) , who said in a statement that connecting downtown with the Westside is “ crucial to modernizing the city ’ s transit system.
” The funding deal was met with relief from local officials , who had originally expected it to be finalized more than a year ago .
Transportation officials are pushing to finish the subway line before Los Angeles hosts the Summer Olympics in 2028 .
Most of the nine-mile Purple Line , also known as the D @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , which is the busiest transit corridor in Los Angeles County and has one of the highest concentrations of jobs and housing in Southern California .
The project is expected to generate 78,000 new daily trips on the county ’ s growing rail system .
The Purple Line is scheduled to open in three segments : from the current terminus in Koreatown through Mid-Wilshire by 2023 ; through Beverly Hills and Century City by 2025 ; and to West L.A. by 2027 .
Heavy construction is underway on the first two phases .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ federal grants and low-interest loans for the first two phases of the project .
The grant announced Tuesday will be spent on the last leg of the project , which will add 2.59 miles of track and two stations in Westwood and near the West Los Angeles Veterans Affairs campus .
Work has been underway on the final phase of the Purple Line since 2018 , when Metro hired a contractor to design and build twin subway tunnels that will run beneath the 405 between Century City and West Los Angeles .
Connecting @ @ @ @ @ @ @ longer a distant dream , but a reality that ’ s within our grasp , ” said Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti in a prepared statement .
The rest of the Purple Line ’ s construction costs will be paid for with revenue from Measure R and Measure M , sales tax increases that voters approved in 2008 and 2016 .

The final phase of the Purple Line will receive $1.3 billion in federal loans, officials said Tuesday. The first phase of the subway is currently under construction in Mid-Wilshire,
The long-awaited Los Angeles County subway line that will whisk commuters between downtown and the Westside has secured the last major piece of funding needed to finish the project, officials said Tuesday.
The Metropolitan Transportation Authority expects to formally accept a $1.3-billion federal grant for the Purple Line in about a month, following a mandatory 30-day review period in Congress, officials said.
After the congressional review period ends, Metro can “redouble our work to establish a fast and effective rail line,” said Inglewood Mayor James Butts, the chair of the Metro board, in a statement.
Advertisement
The funding agreement was announced by Sen. Dianne Feinstein (D-Calif.), who said in a statement that connecting downtown with the Westside is “crucial to modernizing the city’s transit system.”
The funding deal was met with relief from local officials, who had originally expected it to be finalized more than a year ago. Transportation officials are pushing to finish the subway line before Los Angeles hosts the Summer Olympics in 2028.
Most of the nine-mile Purple Line, also known as the D Line, will run beneath Wilshire Boulevard, which is the busiest transit corridor in Los Angeles County and has one of the highest concentrations of jobs and housing in Southern California. The project is expected to generate 78,000 new daily trips on the county’s growing rail system.
The Purple Line is scheduled to open in three segments: from the current terminus in Koreatown through Mid-Wilshire by 2023; through Beverly Hills and Century City by 2025; and to West L.A. by 2027. Heavy construction is underway on the first two phases.
Metro has secured $2.75 billion in federal grants and low-interest loans for the first two phases of the project. The grant announced Tuesday will be spent on the last leg of the project, which will add 2.59 miles of track and two stations in Westwood and near the West Los Angeles Veterans Affairs campus.
Work has been underway on the final phase of the Purple Line since 2018, when Metro hired a contractor to design and build twin subway tunnels that will run beneath the 405 between Century City and West Los Angeles.
Advertisement
Connecting the Westside to downtown is “no longer a distant dream, but a reality that’s within our grasp,” said Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti in a prepared statement.
The rest of the Purple Line’s construction costs will be paid for with revenue from Measure R and Measure M, sales tax increases that voters approved in 2008 and 2016.