latimes--2020-06-08--How does L.A.'s racial past resonate now? #BlackLivesMatter's originator and 5 writers discuss

When I coined the hashtag # BlackLivesMatter in the hot summer of 2012 ( later popularized through the activism of Alicia Garza , Patrisse Cullors and Opal Tometi after Michael Brown ’ s death ) , racial healing , reparations and transformation were heavy on my mind .
I had been bearing witness to the possibilities and problems of America for more than 30 years — raised amid the war on drugs , the LGBTQ rights movement , the end of the Cold War , the rise of hip-hop and the fulfillment of the prophecy of the civil rights movement @ @ @ @ @ @ @ historic two terms as the country ’ s first black president .
I had traveled a bit myself over those years , from homelessness to a PhD , a book and a professorship at Yale .
Despite the success story I seemed to represent , all I could think about was what had been lost along the way .
The losses black Americans start with as they attempt to build better lives and communities are innumerable : The black people in the ocean have a story to tell beneath the waves , singing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ recalling the long legacy of the middle passage , the triangle trade and slavery in the Americas .
Abolished yet alive , as many activists and scholars have demonstrated , slavery in one form or another has lingered for 400 years like an untreated virus , infecting — though many claim it was wiped out by the signature stroke of Abraham Lincoln ’ s pen .
Black people ’ s lives have remained vulnerable and unprotected by the very government that abolished the institution of slavery .
As the planter class took its @ @ @ @ @ @ @ they managed to bequeath us a century and a half of debt and devastation .
Racism is their lasting hex on a country that would dare to try and outlive them , an institutionally effective death spell killing black people every day .
Enter the great pause .
Coronavirus everywhere , unemployment everywhere , Zoom everywhere , masks everywhere , sirens everywhere , police everywhere , helicopters everywhere , protests everywhere .
Black lives matter everywhere .
Just as studies were showing that COVID-19 , too , was discriminately killing black people , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ final eight minutes and 46 seconds in America exposed the untreated virus of racism .
But the immune response has been robust : In the days since his preventable and untimely death , Los Angeles , like cities across the globe , has witnessed numerous multiracial , multiethnic protests with an unequivocal stance that black lives matter .
At the same time , there are continued attempts by some in the media to conflate the protesters ’ calls for justice and equity with the noise of the fire trucks , episodes of violence @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and broken glass .
In the second week of unrest , The Times convened a panel of some of the nation ’ s foremost writers on Los Angeles and its racial history to sift through the damage and the hope , the violence and the love .
Below is a condensed version of my Zoom conversation with Luis Rodriguez , former poet laureate of L.A. ; Walter Mosley , bestselling author of the Easy Rawlins mysteries ; Jean Guerrero , investigative journalist and the author of “ Crux : A Cross-Border Memoir ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , whose many books include “ Fire This Time ” ; and Jervey Tervalon , novelist and editor of “ Geography of Rage : Remembering the Los Angeles Riots of 1992.
” As we all know , Los Angeles has a long history of racial turmoil and uprisings .
How does that history figure in this current moment ?
Luis Rodriguez : I was 11 years old when the Watts Rebellion happened in 1965 .
My family lived in Watts until I was 8 , and I remember knowing what was happening and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ during the Chicano movement protest against the Vietnam War being attacked by the police .
Three people were killed .
I was arrested and held longer than anybody because they were going to falsely charge us with the murders of the people that died .
What saved us was the filming that showed the police beating our people , including the reporter Ruben Salazar .
[ Salazar , a Times columnist and the news director of television station KMEX , was killed in 1970 by a gas canister shot by a sheriff ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I was there at the first uprising in ’ 65 and later after the Rodney King decision .
’ 65 was a moment where the black and brown coalition split , but over that time and up until now , more and more I see white people , black people , brown people coming together and saying : This is wrong !
And we see why it ’ s wrong !
” Jervey Tervalon : I was teaching high school when the [ Proposition ] 187 bill was on the ballot , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to determine which students were illegal immigrants and identify them .
It was like they were conscripting me in this racist endeavor , and I was thinking , “ I ’ m not going to do that !
You ’ re not even trying to pay me.
” That was the beginning of the end of the Republican Party in California .
Jean Guerrero : Then and now , black lives and brown lives go hand and hand .
Take some interesting parallels between what ’ s happening right now nationally and what @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Angeles .
You had police brutality against Rodney King and at the same time unprecedented assaults against immigrants , as demonstrated by Pete Wilson referring to “ invasion at the border.
” Presently , policies are tearing apart families at the border and using the pandemic to close completely to asylum-seeking — at the same time that you have the police brutality against George Floyd .
Here again we see parallels of oppression .
Gerald Horne : In terms of the history of lynching and policing killings , the fundamental question is : @ @ @ @ @ @ @ dramatically and disproportionately overrepresented and misrepresented ?
If we go to 1776 , as I have , what you find is that the United Kingdom had moved toward the abolition of slavery and that the American slave owners , led by real estate speculator No .
1 George Washington , were reluctant to move in the direction of abolition , premising the entire business model of American colonization on dispossession and the labor of enslaved African people .
The Negroes ( as they were called then ) did not support the settlers in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ problem today : A culture grew wherein black people are treated like rebellious Africans , criminals in waiting .
Unless you understand that history , you can not understand what ’ s happened in recent years or in Minnesota a few days ago .
I find remarkable the recent shift by a number of public officials who have been unapologetic and explicit in emphasizing injustice and brutality plaguing black people .
What does this shift mark for you ?
Guerrero : The fact that this is gaining traction in our media and even @ @ @ @ @ @ @ One of the things that makes me most optimistic is that finally , after so many years of being told that we couldn ’ t use the word “ racist ” or “ racism , ” that we have to be extremely careful about ever offending anyone with that word — that was revoked in the newest Associated Press Style Manual .
We still think it ’ s imperative for journalists to be impartial , but with identifiable racists acts we are finally allowed to call it racist .
It ’ s upsetting @ @ @ @ @ @ @ : I ’ ve realized myself that there has been a shift , a small shift , from journalists saying we need to have a conversation on race to [ saying ] we need to have a conversation about racism .
We need a conversation about the terrible reality of racism as opposed to the social construction that is race .
One of the determining factors which will point to where this goes as a movement , or a moment , has to do with BLM and its decentralized nature .
When you @ @ @ @ @ @ @ experience of the Black Panther Party , the starting point is a shootout that does not end very well for BPP .
Centralized organizations tend to be bludgeoned into submission .
The problem with decentralization , of course , is that it becomes difficult to plan .
You tend to rely more on spontaneity .
It becomes difficult to confront a centralized state .
Mosley : Today there seems to be a desire for a different kind of organization , where [ it ] is not black people or brown people or people @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that — it ’ s that we have a commonality .
I think there are a lot of young people who know it , not necessarily have articulated it , but they start off through music and going on through people ’ s heroic and political history .
I don ’ t have an answer about what the right organization would be .
We believe in “ us ” and the “ us ” includes everybody .
LR : This is a transformative moment .
The opportunity is there to do something that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ m in the Mexican and Central American communities and I get to hear what people say .
The activists are very clear : Black Lives Matter .
I think people really get there ’ s something fundamentally vital in our country that goes back to what Dr. Horne was saying , the origins of who we are .
I think the reason why brown people get attacked is because they are actually representative of indigenous and native people .
The first big crime was the genocide against native people , and there @ @ @ @ @ @ @ happen to be Mexican and South American who don ’ t know their name .
I ’ m trying to support the coherence in people ’ s voices : stay true and don ’ t get drowned out by not just what [ President ] Trump says , but what other people say about looting .
Tervalon : Meanwhile Trump is just incoherent , and I think he only seems interested in accumulating power , but he doesn ’ t seem to know what to do with the power because he is too @ @ @ @ @ @ @ enabling us to become coherent .
Horne : Since January 2017 his popularity ratings have been hovering in the 40s .
If that number dips into the 30s , I will tend to feel that he will be defeated in November as a result of what ’ s going on today .
I see so much of what has unfolded as an opportunity to also think about the role of love .
Isn ’ t the wearing of a mask or the putting up of a sign for racial justice an expression of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I think right now , a lot of people are having trouble loving and so they ’ re hating , and a lot of that is tied to the fact that we have this disinformation pandemic .
People who harvest our data sell it to advertisers , and then some politicians use that data to shape our purchases , our occupations , our politics .
As a result , we feel this collective sense of confusion and chaos .
One of the ways we can walk back toward love is to recognize we @ @ @ @ @ @ @ better informed .
Rodriguez : Our government keeps saying we are going to make the U.S. better .
After so many years the old part is still there , but we don ’ t have to destroy the country or the world or the people to get there .
That ’ s the love I hope is permeating everything we do .
Tervalon : I think of the neighborhood I grew up in , the Jefferson Park area , and the sense of community we had .
I was privileged to live in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ me for going on into the world because I was confident enough in myself .
And sometimes I worry about kids growing up in communities where they don ’ t have that experience .
Horne : As I look historically , what has helped give black people momentum while being grossly outnumbered and persecuted has been international support .
The fact that a number of writers in Nigeria wrote an open letter castigating the United States is major .
The global attention in cities like Auckland , Sydney , London , Berlin and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Union , El Salvador and Ethiopia are reminding U.S. representatives of the obligations to black Americans gives me optimism .
Mosley : I think this is a new moment .
That even the people who are representing the government , the police , the courts are saying we have to be different .
Now I ’ m not foolish enough to believe that what they ’ re saying doesn ’ t have its own political base , but I ’ m even optimistic about that — if I want to get re-elected , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ even if I don ’ t like them .
I ’ ve been thinking about writing about that .
Hunter is the Scott Waugh Endowed Chair in the Division of the Social Sciences , professor of sociology , and chair of the department of African American Studies at UCLA .
He is the author of three books .

When I coined the hashtag #BlackLivesMatter in the hot summer of 2012 (later popularized through the activism of Alicia Garza, Patrisse Cullors and Opal Tometi after Michael Brown’s death), racial healing, reparations and transformation were heavy on my mind. I had been bearing witness to the possibilities and problems of America for more than 30 years — raised amid the war on drugs, the LGBTQ rights movement, the end of the Cold War, the rise of hip-hop and the fulfillment of the prophecy of the civil rights movement as expressed through Barack Obama’s historic two terms as the country’s first black president.
I had traveled a bit myself over those years, from homelessness to a PhD, a book and a professorship at Yale. Despite the success story I seemed to represent, all I could think about was what had been lost along the way. The losses black Americans start with as they attempt to build better lives and communities are innumerable: The black people in the ocean have a story to tell beneath the waves, singing, screaming, crying, laughing, recalling the long legacy of the middle passage, the triangle trade and slavery in the Americas.
Marcus Anthony Hunter. (Ashley Kenney
)
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Abolished yet alive, as many activists and scholars have demonstrated, slavery in one form or another has lingered for 400 years like an untreated virus, infecting — though many claim it was wiped out by the signature stroke of Abraham Lincoln’s pen. Black people’s lives have remained vulnerable and unprotected by the very government that abolished the institution of slavery. As the planter class took its last sips of power and blood, they managed to bequeath us a century and a half of debt and devastation. Racism is their lasting hex on a country that would dare to try and outlive them, an institutionally effective death spell killing black people every day.
Enter the great pause. Coronavirus everywhere, unemployment everywhere, Zoom everywhere, masks everywhere, sirens everywhere, police everywhere, helicopters everywhere, protests everywhere. Black lives matter everywhere. Just as studies were showing that COVID-19, too, was discriminately killing black people, a video of George Floyd’s final eight minutes and 46 seconds in America exposed the untreated virus of racism. But the immune response has been robust: In the days since his preventable and untimely death, Los Angeles, like cities across the globe, has witnessed numerous multiracial, multiethnic protests with an unequivocal stance that black lives matter. At the same time, there are continued attempts by some in the media to conflate the protesters’ calls for justice and equity with the noise of the fire trucks, episodes of violence, police sirens, helicopters, bullets and broken glass.
In the second week of unrest, The Times convened a panel of some of the nation’s foremost writers on Los Angeles and its racial history to sift through the damage and the hope, the violence and the love. Below is a condensed version of my Zoom conversation with Luis Rodriguez, former poet laureate of L.A.; Walter Mosley, bestselling author of the Easy Rawlins mysteries; Jean Guerrero, investigative journalist and the author of “Crux: A Cross-Border Memoir”; University of Houston professor Gerald Horne, whose many books include “Fire This Time”; and Jervey Tervalon, novelist and editor of “Geography of Rage: Remembering the Los Angeles Riots of 1992.”
As we all know, Los Angeles has a long history of racial turmoil and uprisings. How does that history figure in this current moment?
Luis Rodriguez, former L.A. poet laureate and author of the book “From Our Land to Our Land.” (Carolyn Cole/Los Angeles Times)
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Luis Rodriguez: I was 11 years old when the Watts Rebellion happened in 1965. My family lived in Watts until I was 8, and I remember knowing what was happening and how deeply it impacted. I recall during the Chicano movement protest against the Vietnam War being attacked by the police. Three people were killed. I was arrested and held longer than anybody because they were going to falsely charge us with the murders of the people that died. What saved us was the filming that showed the police beating our people, including the reporter Ruben Salazar. [Salazar, a Times columnist and the news director of television station KMEX, was killed in 1970 by a gas canister shot by a sheriff’s deputy.]
Walter Mosley: I was there at the first uprising in ’65 and later after the Rodney King decision. ’65 was a moment where the black and brown coalition split, but over that time and up until now, more and more I see white people, black people, brown people coming together and saying: This is wrong! And we see why it’s wrong!”
Jervey Tervalon, poet, novelist and screenwriter, whose books include “Dead Above Ground.” (J Michael Walker)
Jervey Tervalon: I was teaching high school when the [Proposition] 187 bill was on the ballot, and we were told that we would need to determine which students were illegal immigrants and identify them. It was like they were conscripting me in this racist endeavor, and I was thinking, “I’m not going to do that! You’re not even trying to pay me.” That was the beginning of the end of the Republican Party in California.
Jean Guerrero: Then and now, black lives and brown lives go hand and hand. Take some interesting parallels between what’s happening right now nationally and what happened in the ‘90s in Los Angeles. You had police brutality against Rodney King and at the same time unprecedented assaults against immigrants, as demonstrated by Pete Wilson referring to “invasion at the border.” Presently, policies are tearing apart families at the border and using the pandemic to close completely to asylum-seeking — at the same time that you have the police brutality against George Floyd. Here again we see parallels of oppression.
Gerald Horne: In terms of the history of lynching and policing killings, the fundamental question is: Why black people? Why are they dramatically and disproportionately overrepresented and misrepresented? If we go to 1776, as I have, what you find is that the United Kingdom had moved toward the abolition of slavery and that the American slave owners, led by real estate speculator No. 1 George Washington, were reluctant to move in the direction of abolition, premising the entire business model of American colonization on dispossession and the labor of enslaved African people. The Negroes (as they were called then) did not support the settlers in the particular project, which is a problem today: A culture grew wherein black people are treated like rebellious Africans, criminals in waiting. Unless you understand that history, you cannot understand what’s happened in recent years or in Minnesota a few days ago.
University of Houston professor Gerald Horne, whose many books include “Fire This Time,” the definitive history of the Watts uprising. (Kylis Winborne/Ky’s ArtWorks)
I find remarkable the recent shift by a number of public officials who have been unapologetic and explicit in emphasizing injustice and brutality plaguing black people. What does this shift mark for you?
Guerrero: The fact that this is gaining traction in our media and even among our politicians makes me optimistic. One of the things that makes me most optimistic is that finally, after so many years of being told that we couldn’t use the word “racist” or “racism,” that we have to be extremely careful about ever offending anyone with that word — that was revoked in the newest Associated Press Style Manual. We still think it’s imperative for journalists to be impartial, but with identifiable racists acts we are finally allowed to call it racist. It’s upsetting that it took that long.
Horne: I’ve realized myself that there has been a shift, a small shift, from journalists saying we need to have a conversation on race to [saying] we need to have a conversation about racism. We need a conversation about the terrible reality of racism as opposed to the social construction that is race. One of the determining factors which will point to where this goes as a movement, or a moment, has to do with BLM and its decentralized nature. When you have centralized organizations, calling in the experience of the Black Panther Party, the starting point is a shootout that does not end very well for BPP. Centralized organizations tend to be bludgeoned into submission. The problem with decentralization, of course, is that it becomes difficult to plan. You tend to rely more on spontaneity. It becomes difficult to confront a centralized state.
Novelist Walter Mosley.
(Kirk McKoy/Los Angeles Times)
Mosley: Today there seems to be a desire for a different kind of organization, where [it] is not black people or brown people or people with penises. It’s not that — it’s that we have a commonality. I think there are a lot of young people who know it, not necessarily have articulated it, but they start off through music and going on through people’s heroic and political history. I don’t have an answer about what the right organization would be. We believe in “us” and the “us” includes everybody.
LR: This is a transformative moment. The opportunity is there to do something that has never been done before. I’m in the Mexican and Central American communities and I get to hear what people say. The activists are very clear: Black Lives Matter. I think people really get there’s something fundamentally vital in our country that goes back to what Dr. Horne was saying, the origins of who we are. I think the reason why brown people get attacked is because they are actually representative of indigenous and native people. The first big crime was the genocide against native people, and there’s millions of indigenous people who happen to be Mexican and South American who don’t know their name. I’m trying to support the coherence in people’s voices: stay true and don’t get drowned out by not just what [President] Trump says, but what other people say about looting.
Protesters sit along 3rd Street in the Fairfax District of Los Angeles. (Wally Skalij/Los Angeles Times)
Tervalon: Meanwhile Trump is just incoherent, and I think he only seems interested in accumulating power, but he doesn’t seem to know what to do with the power because he is too lazy and self-indulgent. His incoherence is enabling us to become coherent.
Horne: Since January 2017 his popularity ratings have been hovering in the 40s. If that number dips into the 30s, I will tend to feel that he will be defeated in November as a result of what’s going on today.
I see so much of what has unfolded as an opportunity to also think about the role of love. Isn’t the wearing of a mask or the putting up of a sign for racial justice an expression of love for someone else?
Guerrero: I think right now, a lot of people are having trouble loving and so they’re hating, and a lot of that is tied to the fact that we have this disinformation pandemic. People who harvest our data sell it to advertisers, and then some politicians use that data to shape our purchases, our occupations, our politics. As a result, we feel this collective sense of confusion and chaos. One of the ways we can walk back toward love is to recognize we have agency, that we can be better informed.
Jean Guerrero, investigative journalist and the author of “Crux: A Cross-Border Memoir.” (Stacy Keck)
Rodriguez: Our government keeps saying we are going to make the U.S. better. After so many years the old part is still there, but we don’t have to destroy the country or the world or the people to get there. That’s the love I hope is permeating everything we do.
Tervalon: I think of the neighborhood I grew up in, the Jefferson Park area, and the sense of community we had. I was privileged to live in this black community, and it prepared me for going on into the world because I was confident enough in myself. And sometimes I worry about kids growing up in communities where they don’t have that experience.
Horne: As I look historically, what has helped give black people momentum while being grossly outnumbered and persecuted has been international support. The fact that a number of writers in Nigeria wrote an open letter castigating the United States is major. The global attention in cities like Auckland, Sydney, London, Berlin and the fact that representatives of the African Union, El Salvador and Ethiopia are reminding U.S. representatives of the obligations to black Americans gives me optimism.
David Blackgold hugs police Officer K. Wood during a protest in Huntington Beach on Saturday. (Luis Sinco/Los Angeles Times)
Mosley: I think this is a new moment. That even the people who are representing the government, the police, the courts are saying we have to be different. Now I’m not foolish enough to believe that what they’re saying doesn’t have its own political base, but I’m even optimistic about that — if I want to get re-elected, I have to support these people, even if I don’t like them. I’ve been thinking about writing about that.
Hunter is the Scott Waugh Endowed Chair in the Division of the Social Sciences, professor of sociology, and chair of the department of African American Studies at UCLA. He is the author of three books.


latimes--2020-06-08--LAPD officer shot with crossbow during barricade in North Hollywood

An LAPD officer was injured Sunday night after being struck by an arrow fired from a crossbow during a standoff with a man in North Hollywood , authorities said .
Officers were initially called to a residence on Bakman Avenue near Ostego Street around 6:45 p.m. after reports of an assault with a deadly weapon , LAPD Officer Mike Lopez said .
Police were alerted to a man wielding a rifle .
The LAPD ’ s North Hollywood Division urged residents of the area ’ s Arts District to stay inside as officers negotiated with the man , who had @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was called to the scene , and officers were in the process of evacuating the building at about 10:30 p.m. when the man fired a crossbow at police , LAPD spokeswoman Norma Eisenman said .
Officers returned fire but did not strike the man , authorities said .
“ SWAT officers then deployed a chemical agent , ” Eisenman said , “ at which time the suspect exited his apartment and was taken into custody.
” The wounded officer was treated at a local hospital and released , police said .
Neither the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ identified .
LAPD ’ s Force Investigation Division , which handles all incidents that involve use of deadly force by officers , is investigating , Eisenman said .

An LAPD officer was injured Sunday night after being struck by an arrow fired from a crossbow during a standoff with a man in North Hollywood, authorities said.
Officers were initially called to a residence on Bakman Avenue near Ostego Street around 6:45 p.m. after reports of an assault with a deadly weapon, LAPD Officer Mike Lopez said. Police were alerted to a man wielding a rifle.
The LAPD’s North Hollywood Division urged residents of the area’s Arts District to stay inside as officers negotiated with the man, who had barricaded himself in his home.
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We are on scene at the 5100 block of Bakman Ave (major streets Magnolia & Tujunga) after responding to an Assault with a Deadly Weapon-Shots Fired Call. We’re treating the scene as a barricaded suspect. Please stay indoors if you live in the immediate area. All others, stay away. — North Hollywood Division (LAPD) (@LAPDNorthHwdDiv) June 8, 2020
SWAT was called to the scene, and officers were in the process of evacuating the building at about 10:30 p.m. when the man fired a crossbow at police, LAPD spokeswoman Norma Eisenman said.
Officers returned fire but did not strike the man, authorities said.
“SWAT officers then deployed a chemical agent,” Eisenman said, “at which time the suspect exited his apartment and was taken into custody.”
The wounded officer was treated at a local hospital and released, police said.
Neither the suspect nor the wounded officer have been identified.
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LAPD’s Force Investigation Division, which handles all incidents that involve use of deadly force by officers, is investigating, Eisenman said.


latimes--2020-06-08--Massive Hollywood protest shows the staying power of the George Floyd movement

If there were any doubts about whether the George Floyd protest movement was slowing , the answer came Sunday as an estimated 20,000 people converged on Hollywood for a huge march and demonstration .
It was one of scores of protests across Southern California over the weekend but appeared to be by far the biggest .
Love Alvarez , 23 , a downtown Los Angeles resident , stood on the roof of a car at Hollywood Boulevard and Highland Avenue , where the protest consolidated as night fell .
She hoisted a sign that read , “ Black is beautiful.
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ a different message today , something positive , ” she said .
“ We are not just criminals like they make us out to be.
” In the middle of Hollywood Boulevard , a 39-year-old white man who wanted to give only his first name , Benjamin , held a massive sign reading , simply , “ Defund.
” “ The primary function of the police is to protect and defend white property , ” he said of why he thought the department ’ s budget should be slashed .
“ As a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to speak out against this.
” Protest leaders on a bullhorn repeatedly praised the diversity of the crowd .
A candlelight vigil filled part of the Highland intersection , near the Dolby Theatre .
President Trump ’ s nearby star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame had been defaced with graffiti denouncing the president .
Someone had left what appeared to be a bag of dog feces atop the star .
The protest was peaceful , even as it shifted into the evening .
Helicopters circled high above ; drones buzzed around closer @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 30 , who was born and raised in Los Angeles and still lives in the city , held a sign depicting Mayor Eric Garcetti kissing LAPD Chief Michel Moore .
Castillo said he was “ frustrated ” with Garcetti , who he thinks “ took some action but not enough action ” to reform the LAPD .
Castillo said Garcetti should dump Moore , who has “ proven he is not the right person to take us through this moment.
” In Compton , the Compton Cowboys joined a spirited caravan of motorcycles @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Compton Cowboys , a group of close-knit friends who formed a horseback riding club in 2017 aimed at dispelling stereotypes about black people , brought particular joy to the demonstration .
The march in Compton stopped at the Martin Luther King Jr. monument outside the city ’ s Civic Center , where speakers played “ Alright ” by Compton-born rapper Kendrick Lamar .
The crowd was silent for eight minutes and 46 seconds , the length of time that prosecutors said Floyd was pinned to the ground , with his neck under the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
As the march passed a sheriff ’ s station , Gary Mumford , 54 , of Compton , held up his sign to show them : “ 8min 46secs Pure Evil.
” “ I ’ m not so naive as to think that every single police officer is evil , ” he said , “ but I do know that when you start covering up and not speaking and being silent , then you ’ re part of the problem.
” Mumford described an interaction with police in Lakewood during which he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ground and kicked by officers .
He could have “ died that day , ” he said .
He ’ s glad the charges against the officer who killed Floyd were upgraded , but he said “ until we get a conviction , none of this matters.
” “ We ’ ve got to continue to protest , continue to talk about what matters , ” Mumford said .
Andre Spicer , a council liaison for Compton ’ s District 1 , said he and others organized the march because police brutality , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ actions , was also an issue in Compton .
“ We don ’ t get justice here , ” he said .
Several other protests and vigils were held Sunday afternoon and evening in East Los Angeles , Glendale , Beverly Hills and other communities across Southern California .

If there were any doubts about whether the George Floyd protest movement was slowing, the answer came Sunday as an estimated 20,000 people converged on Hollywood for a huge march and demonstration.
It was one of scores of protests across Southern California over the weekend but appeared to be by far the biggest.
Love Alvarez, 23, a downtown Los Angeles resident, stood on the roof of a car at Hollywood Boulevard and Highland Avenue, where the protest consolidated as night fell. She hoisted a sign that read, “Black is beautiful.”
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“I needed to give out a different message today, something positive,” she said. “We are not just criminals like they make us out to be.”
In the middle of Hollywood Boulevard, a 39-year-old white man who wanted to give only his first name, Benjamin, held a massive sign reading, simply, “Defund.”
“The primary function of the police is to protect and defend white property,” he said of why he thought the department’s budget should be slashed. “As a white male, I have a responsibility to speak out against this.”
Protest leaders on a bullhorn repeatedly praised the diversity of the crowd.
A candlelight vigil filled part of the Highland intersection, near the Dolby Theatre. President Trump’s nearby star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame had been defaced with graffiti denouncing the president. Someone had left what appeared to be a bag of dog feces atop the star.
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The protest was peaceful, even as it shifted into the evening. Helicopters circled high above; drones buzzed around closer to the ground.
California ‘I guess America is finally listening.’ Why George Floyd protests have spread to affluent white suburbs Protests over the police killing of George Floyd are springing up in more affluent, white and suburban areas than law enforcement protests have before. Experts say the trend reflects a sea change in the views of white residents.
Cesar Castillo, 30, who was born and raised in Los Angeles and still lives in the city, held a sign depicting Mayor Eric Garcetti kissing LAPD Chief Michel Moore.
Castillo said he was “frustrated” with Garcetti, who he thinks “took some action but not enough action” to reform the LAPD.
Castillo said Garcetti should dump Moore, who has “proven he is not the right person to take us through this moment.”
In Compton, the Compton Cowboys joined a spirited caravan of motorcycles and hundreds of sign-waving demonstrators.
The Compton Cowboys, a group of close-knit friends who formed a horseback riding club in 2017 aimed at dispelling stereotypes about black people, brought particular joy to the demonstration.
The march in Compton stopped at the Martin Luther King Jr. monument outside the city’s Civic Center, where speakers played “Alright” by Compton-born rapper Kendrick Lamar. The crowd was silent for eight minutes and 46 seconds, the length of time that prosecutors said Floyd was pinned to the ground, with his neck under the knee of Minneapolis Police Officer Derek Chauvin.
As the march passed a sheriff’s station, Gary Mumford, 54, of Compton, held up his sign to show them: “8min 46secs Pure Evil.”
“I’m not so naive as to think that every single police officer is evil,” he said, “but I do know that when you start covering up and not speaking and being silent, then you’re part of the problem.”
California Compton Cowboys join spirited caravan through city to protest police brutality The Compton Cowboys joined a caravan of motorcycles and demonstrators as part of a growing national movement to end police brutality and systemic racism.
Mumford described an interaction with police in Lakewood during which he was handcuffed, put face-down on the ground and kicked by officers. He could have “died that day,” he said. He’s glad the charges against the officer who killed Floyd were upgraded, but he said “until we get a conviction, none of this matters.”
“We’ve got to continue to protest, continue to talk about what matters,” Mumford said.
Andre Spicer, a council liaison for Compton’s District 1, said he and others organized the march because police brutality, and a lack of accountability for those actions, was also an issue in Compton.
“We don’t get justice here,” he said.
Several other protests and vigils were held Sunday afternoon and evening in East Los Angeles, Glendale, Beverly Hills and other communities across Southern California.


latimes--2020-06-08--Wind-driven fire in Castaic near 5 Freeway partly contained

Firefighters battled a wind-driven blaze that broke out early Monday in Castaic amid weather conditions that had authorities concerned about the possibility of rapid spread , officials said .
The blaze burned near Tapia Canyon Road , just off the 5 Freeway , which remained open to commuters .
The fire , which started overnight near the Jack Bones Equestrian Center , had scorched about 86 acres by 3 p.m. and was 70 % contained , said a spokesman for the Los Angeles County Fire Department .
“ There are still crews there , but they ’ re just mopping @ @ @ @ @ @ @ County Fire Department Inspector Henry Narvaez said .
He said the firefighters would be there for a couple more hours to make sure there were no active embers or smoking shrubs or trees .
No evacuations were ordered , and no injuries were reported .
The cause of the fire was not immediately known .
A red flag warning signifying critical fire conditions was issued for much of Southern California through Monday night as Santa Ana winds arrived unseasonably early and humidity plummeted .
“ The weather conditions combined with the fuels — @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for more extreme fire spread and behavior if one were to start , ” Mike Wofford , a meteorologist with the National Weather Service in Oxnard , said Monday .
Windy areas including the L.A. County mountains were seeing gusts of 50 to 60 mph , and gusts of 40 to 50 mph were recorded earlier Monday morning near Santa Monica , he said .
“ This is very unusual to see these kinds of strong northeast winds ” in June , Wofford said .
“ It ’ s usually a late summer @ @ @ @ @ @ @ also were forecast to remain above average through much of the week , with a heat advisory issued for coastal areas that will go into effect Tuesday afternoon .
High temperatures were forecast to be more than 20 degrees above normal Tuesday , with many areas in the 90s .
Dry and windy conditions also were reported in Northern California , where crews were battling an 1,837-acre brush fire that broke out Saturday evening in Solano County .
The fire , which was burning in the area of Quail Canyon and Pleasants Valley @ @ @ @ @ @ @ contained as of Monday morning , authorities said .
Evacuations that were ordered over the weekend had been lifted .

Firefighters battled a wind-driven blaze that broke out early Monday in Castaic amid weather conditions that had authorities concerned about the possibility of rapid spread, officials said.
The blaze burned near Tapia Canyon Road, just off the 5 Freeway, which remained open to commuters.
The fire, which started overnight near the Jack Bones Equestrian Center, had scorched about 86 acres by 3 p.m. and was 70% contained, said a spokesman for the Los Angeles County Fire Department.
“There are still crews there, but they’re just mopping up the hot spots,” L.A. County Fire Department Inspector Henry Narvaez said. He said the firefighters would be there for a couple more hours to make sure there were no active embers or smoking shrubs or trees.
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No evacuations were ordered, and no injuries were reported.
The cause of the fire was not immediately known.
A red flag warning signifying critical fire conditions was issued for much of Southern California through Monday night as Santa Ana winds arrived unseasonably early and humidity plummeted.
“The weather conditions combined with the fuels — the grasses and vegetation — are ripe for more extreme fire spread and behavior if one were to start,” Mike Wofford, a meteorologist with the National Weather Service in Oxnard, said Monday.
Windy areas including the L.A. County mountains were seeing gusts of 50 to 60 mph, and gusts of 40 to 50 mph were recorded earlier Monday morning near Santa Monica, he said.
“This is very unusual to see these kinds of strong northeast winds” in June, Wofford said. “It’s usually a late summer into fall type of situation.”
Temperatures also were forecast to remain above average through much of the week, with a heat advisory issued for coastal areas that will go into effect Tuesday afternoon. High temperatures were forecast to be more than 20 degrees above normal Tuesday, with many areas in the 90s.
Dry and windy conditions also were reported in Northern California, where crews were battling an 1,837-acre brush fire that broke out Saturday evening in Solano County.
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The fire, which was burning in the area of Quail Canyon and Pleasants Valley roads near Winters, was 50% contained as of Monday morning, authorities said. Evacuations that were ordered over the weekend had been lifted.


latimes--2020-06-08--Coronavirus transmission rate climbing in L.A. County as economy reopens, old routines return

The coronavirus transmission rate in Los Angeles County is climbing again as the economy reopens .
Officials said the increase in disease transmission largely reflected infections that occurred before the start of demonstrations protesting the death of George Floyd , a black man killed after a white Minneapolis police officer used his knee to pin Floyd to the ground by the neck .
Floyd died May 25 .
The incubation period for the coronavirus infection can generally last as long as two weeks .
Los Angeles County , the California hotbed of the virus with more than 2,600 deaths , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ A month ago , L.A. County allowed many stores to open for pickup service .
In the last week of May , churches and hair salons were allowed to reopen , and officials allowed the resumption of in-store shopping and in-person dining at restaurants .
But now , health officials are detecting an uptick in disease transmission .
It comes as more businesses are reopening , and more people are returning to old routines .
Over the weekend , some shopping centers and public spaces began to see bigger crowds , with only @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
At its worst , the county ’ s “ effective transmission rate ” of the coronavirus was quite high — 3 to 3½ — meaning one infected person on average transmitted the virus to an average of three or 3½ other people .
That high point came in March before Gov .
Gavin Newsom implemented California ’ s stay-at-home order .
Eventually , the stay-at-home order worked , and the effective transmission rate fell to 1 , and then even a bit below 1 .
That means that , on average , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to fewer than one other person .
Dr. Christina Ghaly , director of health services for L.A. County , said Friday the effective transmission rate had now risen above 1 and was gaining ground .
“ While we don ’ t know precisely yet how reopening and the recovery activities will affect transmission of COVID-19 , ” Ghaly said , the transmission rate “ does appear now to be greater than one , and slightly uptrending .
“ If transmission has indeed increased , ” she added , “ then the model predicts @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in hospital patient volume over the next two to four weeks , and we would anticipate beginning to see that change happen over the coming one to two weeks.
” Hospitalizations for COVID-19 started to tick upward last week after falling to their lowest pandemic level on May 31 , when the daily number of those hospitalized for confirmed and suspected coronavirus infection fell to 1,908 .
That was down from a peak of around 2,600 in early April .
But by Thursday , the number of people hospitalized had risen to 2,048 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 1,981 .
Ghaly said it was possible the number of intensive care beds could become inadequate in the next two to four weeks based on the number of currently available beds in daily hospital surveys among the county ’ s public and private hospitals .
“ We must all do everything we can to keep the [ transmission rate ] from continuing to increase , ” Ghaly said .
In the Bay Area , San Mateo County — sandwiched between San Francisco and Silicon Valley — is also seeing an increase in its @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , which has a population of about 770,000 people and is home to tech giants including Facebook and YouTube , was once a hotbed of coronavirus transmission , with an effective transmission rate of 3 to 4 .
San Mateo County is just northwest of Santa Clara County , one of the nation ’ s first centers of the coronavirus pandemic .
But after joining with five other Bay Area counties in implementing the nation ’ s first regional shelter-in-place order to combat the coronavirus , the effective transmission rate fell to 0.9 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , that person on average transmitted it to fewer than one other person .
“ Anything above 1 is not good , and the higher it gets above 1 , the worse it is in an exponential manner , ” Dr. Scott Morrow , the San Mateo County health officer , said in a statement last week .
Yet Morrow now suspects the transmission rate is up to 1.3 .
Despite that , he has continued to slowly loosen stay-at-home orders , although not nearly as quickly as L.A. County has .
Although @ @ @ @ @ @ @ L.A. County two weeks ago , only outdoor dining was allowed to resume last week in San Mateo , Santa Clara , Contra Costa and Marin counties .
San Francisco and Alameda counties have taken even stricter approaches : San Francisco has no plans to allow outdoor dining to reopen until mid-June , and Alameda County hasn ’ t yet said when it will allow outdoor restaurant dining .
None of those six core Bay Area counties have allowed hair salons to reopen , and some have not allowed indoor churches to resume @ @ @ @ @ @ @ allowed in Santa Clara and Marin counties ; San Francisco may not reopen places of worship until next week .
Morrow said his goal was to ease the stay-at-home order as fast as he could “ without being reckless.
” “ We are certainly in the midst of the biggest disaster of our lives , ” Morrow said in his statement .
“ Pandemics are a spark that can , if not carefully managed , cause a global conflagration .
The profound economic shock of this pandemic will be larger than the Great @ @ @ @ @ @ @ worry at all about the virus and its effect on you , your family , friends , colleagues , neighbors or others , you should know , it is not completely safe to be out , it is even less safe to attend gatherings of any size , ” Morrow said .
Health officials have always expected the disease transmission rate to increase as the economy reopens .
What officials are hoping for is an uptick that the hospital system can handle .
“ It ’ d be one thing to see a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ from having more people out and about .
What we have to avoid is that huge increase that causes a threat to our healthcare system , ” Los Angeles County ’ s director of the Department of Public Health , Dr. Barbara Ferrer , said last week .
Ferrer has said there have been more outbreaks at workplaces , although the overall numbers are still small .
To keep disease transmission rates from increasing as the economy further reopens , Ghaly reminded residents of these basics : • Wear face coverings when outside @ @ @ @ @ @ @ live in your household .
• Follow quarantine and isolation orders , regardless of whether you are tested or whether you tested negative .

A cyclist and his passenger fly a Black Lives Matter banner in Venice Beach on Sunday.
The coronavirus transmission rate in Los Angeles County is climbing again as the economy reopens.
Officials said the increase in disease transmission largely reflected infections that occurred before the start of demonstrations protesting the death of George Floyd, a black man killed after a white Minneapolis police officer used his knee to pin Floyd to the ground by the neck. Floyd died May 25.
The incubation period for the coronavirus infection can generally last as long as two weeks.
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Los Angeles County, the California hotbed of the virus with more than 2,600 deaths, has been gradually reopening its economy. A month ago, L.A. County allowed many stores to open for pickup service. In the last week of May, churches and hair salons were allowed to reopen, and officials allowed the resumption of in-store shopping and in-person dining at restaurants.
1 / 46 Newport Beach police enforce closures along the Wedge in Newport Beach, a popular surf spot. (Irfan Khan/Los Angeles Times) 2 / 46 Spectators along the Wedge in Newport Beach, a surf spot, on July 4. (Irfan Khan/Los Angeles Times) 3 / 46 A bicyclist rides along Highland Avenue with the pier closed to beachgoers on July 3 in Manhattan Beach. (Gary Coronado/Los Angeles Times) 4 / 46 Peter Gratzinger of Pacific Palisades heads to the water at Santa Monica State Beach, which opened to the public at 5 a.m. July 6. (Myung J. Chun/Los Angeles Times) 5 / 46 A bicyclist with her child rides along the closed bike path on July 3 in Manhattan Beach. (Gary Coronado/Los Angeles Times) 6 / 46 A police officer and a lifeguard boat comb the shoreline in Venice Beach on July 5. Even though the beach was closed over the weekend a few still made their way to the shoreline. (Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times) 7 / 46 No-parking signs from the July 4 weekend still block spots on Ocean Avenue in Santa Monica on Monday. (Myung J. Chun/Los Angeles Times) 8 / 46 Dusk sets in over the the Santa Monica Pier on Friday. (Gina Ferazzi/Los Angeles Times) 9 / 46 Southern California residents watch the fireworks during the Drive-Up 4th of July Spectacular at the Los Alamitos Joint Forces Training Base on Saturday in Los Alamitos. (Gina Ferazzi/Los Angeles Times) 10 / 46 Bella Nousiainen, left, with daughter, Helmi Nousiainen, of Los Angeles, at the Santa Monica Pier, which reopens after being closed to guests for months because of the coronavirus. (Gary Coronado/Los Angeles Times) 11 / 46 Dr. Jamie Taylor checks the ventilators at the refashioned St. Vincent Hospital. (Wally Skalij/Los Angeles Times) 12 / 46 Shoppers and mannequins wear protective masks in the Los Angeles downtown garment district on Thursday. (Luis Sinco/Los Angeles Times) 13 / 46 Patrons wear face coverings at Grand Central Market in downtown Los Angeles on Thursday. A recent surge in COVID-19 cases in California has pushed the state’s total past 200,000 with more than 5,800 deaths. (Kent Nishimura/Los Angeles Times) 14 / 46 LAPD officers E. Rosales, left, and D. Castro, patrol the Metro Red Line at the Hollywood/Highland Metro Station Thursday. (Allen J. Schaben/Los Angeles Times) 15 / 46 Visitors wear protective masks while walking through historic Olvera Street in downtown Los Angeles on Thursday. (Luis Sinco/Los Angeles Times) 16 / 46 People wait in line to have a COVID-19 screening administered by the Community Organized Relief Effort at the Los Angeles City Mayor’s test site at Dodger Stadium on Thursday. (Gary Coronado/Los Angeles Times) 17 / 46 A woman adjusts a protective mask while walkiing along Atlantic Avenue in Long Beach. (Luis Sinco/Los Angeles Ti mes) 18 / 46 Cameron Johnson,18, left, headed to UC Berkeley in the fall and Simona Krasnegor,17, headed to UCLA in the fall, watched the sun set while sitting next to the Manhattan Beach Pier, following their drive-through graduation from Mira Costa High School in Manhattan Beach. (Jay L. Clendenin/Los Angeles Times) 19 / 46 Jair Guido, 36, a veterinarian visiting from Durango, Mexico, right, wearing a sombrero with an American flag draped over his shoulders, walks with other pedestrians along Hollywood Boulevard in Hollywood. Guido said that he wore this outfit to show people that he is proud to be a Mexican and that he loves America. Gov. Gavin Newsom on Thursday ordered all Californians to wear face coverings while in public. (Mel Melcon / Los Angeles Times) 20 / 46 A mask-wearing skateboarder and her dog make their way along the boardwalk in Venice Beach. Californians must wear face masks in public under a coronavirus order issued by Gov. Gavin Newsom. (Mel Melcon / Los Angeles Times) 21 / 46 Pedestrians, some with face coverings, some without, walk past musicians Brent Kendell, background left, and Sam Jones, background right, as they perform at the intersection of Hollywood Boulevard and Highland Avenue in Hollywood. (Mel Melcon / Los Angeles Times) 22 / 46 People wear masks while walking along the boardwalk in Venice Beach. Californians must wear face masks in public under a coronavirus order issued by Gov. Gavin Newsom. (Mel Melcon / Los Angeles Times) 23 / 46 Pedestrians cross the intersection of Hollywood Boulevard and Highland Avenue in Hollywood. Gov. Gavin Newsom on Thursday ordered all Californians to wear face coverings while in public, following growing concerns that an increase in coronavirus cases has been caused by residents failing to voluntarily take that precaution. (Mel Melcon / Los Angeles Times) 24 / 46 Sophia Strauss, left, and Sarah Hoffmeister celebrate after their drive-through graduation from Mira Costa High School in Manhattan Beach. (Jay L. Clendenin / Los Angeles Times) 25 / 46 New West Charter School vice principal Mark Herrera shouts at graduate Joe Reid to come and receive his diploma during a drive-up graduation ceremony for the Class of 2020 at the charter school in Los Angeles. (Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times) 26 / 46 A worker directs drivers at a drive-up testing site for COVID-19 outside of Jackie Robinson Stadium at UCLA.
(Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times) 27 / 46 Destiny VanSciner is tested for COVID-19 with an oral swab by family nurse practitioner Anniesatu Newland at a walk-in site at St. John’s Well Child and Family Center in South Los Angeles. (Al Seib / Los Angeles Times) 28 / 46 Melissa Gomes fixes the tassel on the mortarboard of Sarah Anggraini as the new graduate gets ready for a photo at Chaffey College, which held a drive-through graduation, in Rancho Cucamonga. (Irfan Khan / Los Angeles Times) 29 / 46 Maricela Moreno, manager at El Tarasco in Marina del Rey, disinfects cash at the restaurant. (Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times) 30 / 46 Mildred “Millie” Stratton waves to a caravan of cars led by Alhambra police officers and firefighters. The parade past her home celebrated Stratton’s 102nd birthday. (Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times) 31 / 46 Eric Larkin hands an order to Brittany Wright as she fastens her face covering outside the Last Bookstore in downtown Los Angeles. (Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times) 32 / 46 A jogger passes Evergreen Cemetery in Los Angeles as local stay-at-home orders are increasingly relaxed months into the coronavirus outbreak. (Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times) 33 / 46 Hikers and bikers traverse the Santa Fe Dam trail as county parks officially reopen to the public. (Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times) 34 / 46 A woman, masked against COVID-19, walks past a building that features the image of Britney Spears at a shopping center in the Fairfax District of Los Angeles. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times) 35 / 46 Manon Guijarro, a new graduate of Pierce College, has her photo taken by friend Paige Johnson at Chris Burden’s outdoor work “Urban Light” at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art in Los Angeles. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times) 36 / 46 Mary Perez, a salesperson at High Class Jewels on Broadway in downtown Los Angeles, helps a customer as he tries on a gold rope chain inside the recently reopened store. (Mel Melcon/Los Angeles Times) 37 / 46 Professional dog walker Lindsay Rojas takes golden retrievers Gomez, left, and Nikki for a stroll along Le Bourget Avenue in Culver City. (Mel Melcon / Los Angeles Times) 38 / 46 The Air Force Thunderbirds precision flying team banks over downtown Los Angeles in formation to salute healthcare workers and first responders on May 15. (Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times) 39 / 46 Maria Morales, center, a member of the USC class of 2020, participates in virtual graduation via Zoom with her brother Manny Morales, left, mom Pilar Morales and stepdad Victor Ramos from her home in Orange. (Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times) 40 / 46 On a recent day, there’s not a face mask in sight as a roller skater and others share the reopened walking path on the Strand in Manhattan Beach. (Jay L. Clendenin / Los Angeles Times) 41 / 46 Crew members of a Hainan Airlines flight walk through the Tom Bradley International Terminal at Los Angeles International Airport. (Al Seib/Los Angeles Times) 42 / 46 A woman wearing a protective mask walks past a shuttered business in Long Beach. (Luis Sinco/Los Angeles Times) 43 / 46 Thousands of rental cars are stored at Dodger Stadium as the coronavirus crisis has caused rentals to nosedive. (Robert Gauthier/Los Angeles Times) 44 / 46 Some beachgoers actively use the beach while others relax on the sand, despite Gov. Gavin Newsom’s active-use-only order, in Huntington Beach. (Allen J. Schaben/Los Angeles Times) 45 / 46 Traveling nurse Gail Cunningham waves thanks outside the emergency room entrance to Riverside University Health System in Moreno Valley as residents pay tribute to her and other medical personnel with a drive-by rally. (Gina Ferazzi/Los Angeles Times) 46 / 46 A scene from “Knives Out,” with actor Don Johnson, seen at the Mission Tiki Drive-in Theatre in Montclair. Opened with one screen in 1956, the Mission Tiki expanded to four screens in 1975 and began renovation in 2006, updating to FM transmitters and digital projectors. (Jay L. Clendenin/Los Angeles Times)
But now, health officials are detecting an uptick in disease transmission. It comes as more businesses are reopening, and more people are returning to old routines. Over the weekend, some shopping centers and public spaces began to see bigger crowds, with only some wearing masks and practicing social distancing.
At its worst, the county’s “effective transmission rate” of the coronavirus was quite high — 3 to 3½ — meaning one infected person on average transmitted the virus to an average of three or 3½ other people. That high point came in March before Gov. Gavin Newsom implemented California’s stay-at-home order.
Eventually, the stay-at-home order worked, and the effective transmission rate fell to 1, and then even a bit below 1. That means that, on average, each infected person was transmitting the virus to fewer than one other person.
Dr. Christina Ghaly, director of health services for L.A. County, said Friday the effective transmission rate had now risen above 1 and was gaining ground.
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“While we don’t know precisely yet how reopening and the recovery activities will affect transmission of COVID-19,” Ghaly said, the transmission rate “does appear now to be greater than one, and slightly uptrending.
Tracking the coronavirus in L.A. County The latest maps and charts on the spread of COVID-19 in Los Angeles County, including cases, deaths, closures and restrictions.
“If transmission has indeed increased,” she added, “then the model predicts that we will have a continued increase in hospital patient volume over the next two to four weeks, and we would anticipate beginning to see that change happen over the coming one to two weeks.”
Hospitalizations for COVID-19 started to tick upward last week after falling to their lowest pandemic level on May 31, when the daily number of those hospitalized for confirmed and suspected coronavirus infection fell to 1,908. That was down from a peak of around 2,600 in early April.
But by Thursday, the number of people hospitalized had risen to 2,048. On Saturday, it was at 1,981.
Ghaly said it was possible the number of intensive care beds could become inadequate in the next two to four weeks based on the number of currently available beds in daily hospital surveys among the county’s public and private hospitals.
“We must all do everything we can to keep the [transmission rate] from continuing to increase,” Ghaly said.
It’s possible L.A. County could run out of intensive care unit beds if the coronavirus transmission rates continue increasing. (Los Angeles County Department of Health Services)
In the Bay Area, San Mateo County — sandwiched between San Francisco and Silicon Valley — is also seeing an increase in its coronavirus transmission rate.
San Mateo County, which has a population of about 770,000 people and is home to tech giants including Facebook and YouTube, was once a hotbed of coronavirus transmission, with an effective transmission rate of 3 to 4. San Mateo County is just northwest of Santa Clara County, one of the nation’s first centers of the coronavirus pandemic.
But after joining with five other Bay Area counties in implementing the nation’s first regional shelter-in-place order to combat the coronavirus, the effective transmission rate fell to 0.9, meaning that for each person infected, that person on average transmitted it to fewer than one other person.
“Anything above 1 is not good, and the higher it gets above 1, the worse it is in an exponential manner,” Dr. Scott Morrow, the San Mateo County health officer, said in a statement last week.
Yet Morrow now suspects the transmission rate is up to 1.3. Despite that, he has continued to slowly loosen stay-at-home orders, although not nearly as quickly as L.A. County has. Although in-restaurant dining was allowed to resume in L.A. County two weeks ago, only outdoor dining was allowed to resume last week in San Mateo, Santa Clara, Contra Costa and Marin counties.
San Francisco and Alameda counties have taken even stricter approaches: San Francisco has no plans to allow outdoor dining to reopen until mid-June, and Alameda County hasn’t yet said when it will allow outdoor restaurant dining.
None of those six core Bay Area counties have allowed hair salons to reopen, and some have not allowed indoor churches to resume operations. Only outdoor religious services are allowed in Santa Clara and Marin counties; San Francisco may not reopen places of worship until next week.
Morrow said his goal was to ease the stay-at-home order as fast as he could “without being reckless.”
“We are certainly in the midst of the biggest disaster of our lives,” Morrow said in his statement. “Pandemics are a spark that can, if not carefully managed, cause a global conflagration. The profound economic shock of this pandemic will be larger than the Great Depression.
“If you have any worry at all about the virus and its effect on you, your family, friends, colleagues, neighbors or others, you should know, it is not completely safe to be out, it is even less safe to attend gatherings of any size,” Morrow said.
Health officials have always expected the disease transmission rate to increase as the economy reopens. What officials are hoping for is an uptick that the hospital system can handle.
“It’d be one thing to see a slight increase, which we would anticipate from having more people out and about. What we have to avoid is that huge increase that causes a threat to our healthcare system,” Los Angeles County’s director of the Department of Public Health, Dr. Barbara Ferrer, said last week.
Ferrer has said there have been more outbreaks at workplaces, although the overall numbers are still small.
To keep disease transmission rates from increasing as the economy further reopens, Ghaly reminded residents of these basics:


latimes--2020-06-08--Excerpt: Cowboys in Compton find hope and healing on horseback

The Los Angeles Times Book Club is reading : ‘ The Compton Cowboys : The New Generation of Cowboys in America ’ s Urban Heartland.
’ Here ’ s an excerpt .
I always wondered why I never learned about black cowboys in any of my elementary school classes in Huntington Park , a city in Southeast Los Angeles .
The only cowboys we learned about were white .
We were taught that they rode through trails , herded cattle , and occasionally got into gunfights with bandits and Native Americans .
Even Mrs. Sanders , a black woman and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ black cowboys .
The history of the West until that point had appeared exclusively white .
Little did I know there were groups in nearby Compton who were actively trying to reinsert black cowboys into the history books .
But something always seemed a bit off .
It felt like we were celebrating the lives of men who had often terrorized their way through native communities in the West .
Cowboys , I would later learn , were white men who rode through towns with reckless abandon and left a trail of destruction @ @ @ @ @ @ @ well with me .
I was the type of kid who chose to disrupt our annual schoolwide Thanksgiving celebration in the third grade by jumping on a table and yelling that Christopher Columbus was a “ murderer ” and killed thousands of indigenous people throughout the Americas .
The incident landed me a two-week suspension but an emphatic high-five from my then twenty-six-year-old mother , who was active in many social justice circles as a Ph.D. student in literature at the University of California , Los Angeles .
All this added up to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the black cowboys in Compton .
I was six , and my mama and I were driving to the Compton Swap Meet one Saturday afternoon .
When she wasn ’ t reading or writing or completing her coursework , Mama worked as a valet parking attendant at a fancy hotel in Santa Monica .
As a result , I spent lots of time with my aunts , who worked close to our home .
Weekends were sometimes the only time when my mama and I got to see one another .
It was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ three-bedroom home that we shared with my grandmother , two aunts , uncle , and two cousins .
If you lived in our neighborhood , chances were the Chicano rapper Kid Frost ’ s hit song “ La Raza ” was playing loudly on someone ’ s boombox or car speakers .
If you lived in Watts or Compton , located about ten minutes away , you were more likely to hear an N.W.A record like “ Express Yourself ” or the soulful sounds of Teddy Pendergrass coming from an old head ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ South Central and the city of Compton were in complete upheaval .
Gang violence often led to high murder rates , the crack cocaine epidemic was destroying families , and rising unemployment rates were forcing black families to leave the area en masse in search of jobs and affordable housing in cities outside of Los Angeles .
At the same time , Mexican immigrants fleeing dwindling economic markets in Mexico were slowly migrating to the same communities that black folks were leaving , which sometimes caused racial tensions .
Black folks often blamed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ over their neighborhoods , while Mexicans — who sometimes arrived in these neighborhoods with their own preconceived ideas about blackness — often scorned their black neighbors for not working hard .
Both stereotypes were rooted in deep misunderstandings and false images projected by the media .
Whenever my mama and I drove to Compton , she would instruct me to lock our doors and make sure our windows were sealed shut as we drove across the train tracks on Alameda Street that served as a natural border between the brown community that I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ were driving into .
Carjackings were frequent in those days and several of my relatives had been victims of different forms of robbery over the years , prompting my mama to drive with caution .
As I grew older , though , I realized that the precautions she took were often driven by deeper issues .
Some of the very people whom I would call my friends and family held on to their own racist ideas about black people .
Mayates , a derogatory Spanish term used to describe people of African descent @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I ever heard referring to black people .
I was receiving a message that black folks were dangerous and prone to violence , but , nevertheless , I felt a strong connection to Compton .
As the son of an African-American father whom I didn ’ t really meet until my early twenties , hearing these slurs directed at black people forced me to reckon with the idea that a part of my heritage could be supported while the other parts could be weaponized .
I had no contact with my father and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
This made our drives to Compton more complicated than they appeared to be .
I was being taught that black people were dangerous , which made me believe that I , in fact , was dangerous , but our drives also gave me the chance to dream : every time we drove to Compton , I naively believed that I might serendipitously run into my father or another black relative .
My worldview was small and limited , and in my mind , Compton was the only place where black folks lived @ @ @ @ @ @ @ window as we drove south on Long Beach Boulevard past Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard and under the 105 Freeway overpass and didn ’ t see the criminals that people in my community talked about .
Instead , I saw my family .
During some of our weekend drives , I ’ d see Compton ’ s black cowboys at various intersections .
Sometimes I ’ d see them riding their horses along the train tracks on Alameda Street that transported goods from the shipping docks in Long Beach to downtown Los Angeles @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Look at the black cowboys , mijo , ” Mama would say as she stared in awe while waving at them on the street .
I ’ d look at them and naively ask myself , “ Are the men on these horses my family ?
” We weren ’ t alone in our fascination .
The cowboys were showstoppers .
Cars would honk and drivers would wave in admiration as they trotted past .
Their only competition were the classic car clubs that cruised the same streets every weekend in 1964 Chevrolet @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The cowboys had an allure to them that went beyond words .
They seemed ethereal — like superheroes on the backs of mystic creatures who , I imagined , communicated in a language unknown to me .
These men were different from the canonical “ classic ” cowboy — the white men I ’ d seen on television in Clint Eastwood films or in Marlboro advertisements somewhere in the West with cigarettes in their mouths .
The only other image of cowboys that I had seen was the Mexican men who rode horses @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s hometown of Magdalena , a small rural town full of rancheros in the state of Jalisco .
Seeing black cowboys riding through an urban neighborhood like Compton was incredibly transformative .
It went against every conventional idea that I had at the time .
These weren ’ t the cowboys I had learned about in my history books or seen on the big screen , and yet as I watched them ride at dusk on the same back streets known for rappers like Eazy-E and Dr. Dre , I recognized something @ @ @ @ @ @ @ every western film and every hip-hop song : these black men were nonconformist , independent , and strong .
They commanded attention and embodied a rebellious spirit , and , most importantly , they were utterly inspiring .
Years later , as a New York Times reporter , I reached out to a group of young black men who were calling themselves the Compton Cowboys .
This group , like their predecessors , continued to ride horses through the city ’ s streets with a free and rebellious spirit .
All of them @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in the middle of Compton ’ s Richland Farms .
This group , however , was doing more than riding horses for recreation .
They were riding horses to free themselves from some of the dangers of street and gang life and as a way to heal from the trauma that haunted their lives .
Their motto said it all : “ Streets raised us .
Horses saved us.
” I wanted to learn more .
Excerpted from the book THE COMPTON COWBOYS : The New Generation of Cowboys in America ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ © 2020 by Walter Thompson-Hernández .
From William Morrow , an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers .
Reprinted by permission .
If You Go : Book Club Walter Thompson-Hernández , author of “ The Compton Cowboys , ” joins the L.A. Times Book Club in conversation with reporter Angel Jennings .
Where : Free virtual event livestreaming on the Los Angeles Times Facebook Page and YouTube .

Anthony, a member of the Compton Cowboys, is having a moment with Dakota on the Richland Farms ranch. He works at the ranch every day from 5 a.m. to noon.
The Los Angeles Times Book Club is reading: ‘The Compton Cowboys: The New Generation of Cowboys in America’s Urban Heartland.’ Here’s an excerpt.
I always wondered why I never learned about black cowboys in any of my elementary school classes in Huntington Park, a city in Southeast Los Angeles. The only cowboys we learned about were white. We were taught that they rode through trails, herded cattle, and occasionally got into gunfights with bandits and Native Americans. Even Mrs. Sanders, a black woman and my favorite teacher, never once mentioned black cowboys. The history of the West until that point had appeared exclusively white. Little did I know there were groups in nearby Compton who were actively trying to reinsert black cowboys into the history books.
But something always seemed a bit off. It felt like we were celebrating the lives of men who had often terrorized their way through native communities in the West. Cowboys, I would later learn, were white men who rode through towns with reckless abandon and left a trail of destruction behind them. None of it sat well with me. I was the type of kid who chose to disrupt our annual schoolwide Thanksgiving celebration in the third grade by jumping on a table and yelling that Christopher Columbus was a “murderer” and killed thousands of indigenous people throughout the Americas. The incident landed me a two-week suspension but an emphatic high-five from my then twenty-six-year-old mother, who was active in many social justice circles as a Ph.D. student in literature at the University of California, Los Angeles.
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(William Morrow)
All this added up to real confusion when I first learned about the black cowboys in Compton. I was six, and my mama and I were driving to the Compton Swap Meet one Saturday afternoon. When she wasn’t reading or writing or completing her coursework, Mama worked as a valet parking attendant at a fancy hotel in Santa Monica. As a result, I spent lots of time with my aunts, who worked close to our home. Weekends were sometimes the only time when my mama and I got to see one another.
It was 1991 and we were living in a three-bedroom home that we shared with my grandmother, two aunts, uncle, and two cousins. If you lived in our neighborhood, chances were the Chicano rapper Kid Frost’s hit song “La Raza” was playing loudly on someone’s boombox or car speakers. If you lived in Watts or Compton, located about ten minutes away, you were more likely to hear an N.W.A record like “Express Yourself” or the soulful sounds of Teddy Pendergrass coming from an old head’s flashy Cadillac.
Back then, South Central and the city of Compton were in complete upheaval. Gang violence often led to high murder rates, the crack cocaine epidemic was destroying families, and rising unemployment rates were forcing black families to leave the area en masse in search of jobs and affordable housing in cities outside of Los Angeles. At the same time, Mexican immigrants fleeing dwindling economic markets in Mexico were slowly migrating to the same communities that black folks were leaving, which sometimes caused racial tensions. Black folks often blamed Mexican immigrants for stealing jobs and taking over their neighborhoods, while Mexicans — who sometimes arrived in these neighborhoods with their own preconceived ideas about blackness — often scorned their black neighbors for not working hard. Both stereotypes were rooted in deep misunderstandings and false images projected by the media.
Whenever my mama and I drove to Compton, she would instruct me to lock our doors and make sure our windows were sealed shut as we drove across the train tracks on Alameda Street that served as a natural border between the brown community that I lived in and the black one we were driving into. Carjackings were frequent in those days and several of my relatives had been victims of different forms of robbery over the years, prompting my mama to drive with caution.
As I grew older, though, I realized that the precautions she took were often driven by deeper issues. Some of the very people whom I would call my friends and family held on to their own racist ideas about black people. Mayates, a derogatory Spanish term used to describe people of African descent, was one of the first words I ever heard referring to black people. I was receiving a message that black folks were dangerous and prone to violence, but, nevertheless, I felt a strong connection to Compton.
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As the son of an African-American father whom I didn’t really meet until my early twenties, hearing these slurs directed at black people forced me to reckon with the idea that a part of my heritage could be supported while the other parts could be weaponized. I had no contact with my father and thus no contact with my black family. This made our drives to Compton more complicated than they appeared to be. I was being taught that black people were dangerous, which made me believe that I, in fact, was dangerous, but our drives also gave me the chance to dream: every time we drove to Compton, I naively believed that I might serendipitously run into my father or another black relative. My worldview was small and limited, and in my mind, Compton was the only place where black folks lived. I looked out of our car window as we drove south on Long Beach Boulevard past Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard and under the 105 Freeway overpass and didn’t see the criminals that people in my community talked about. Instead, I saw my family.
During some of our weekend drives, I’d see Compton’s black cowboys at various intersections. Sometimes I’d see them riding their horses along the train tracks on Alameda Street that transported goods from the shipping docks in Long Beach to downtown Los Angeles warehouses, and vice versa. “Look at the black cowboys, mijo,” Mama would say as she stared in awe while waving at them on the street. I’d look at them and naively ask myself, “Are the men on these horses my family?”
We weren’t alone in our fascination. The cowboys were showstoppers. Cars would honk and drivers would wave in admiration as they trotted past. Their only competition were the classic car clubs that cruised the same streets every weekend in 1964 Chevrolet Impalas or El Camino Super Sports.
California Compton Cowboys join spirited caravan through city to protest police brutality The Compton Cowboys joined a caravan of motorcycles and demonstrators as part of a growing national movement to end police brutality and systemic racism.
The cowboys had an allure to them that went beyond words. They seemed ethereal — like superheroes on the backs of mystic creatures who, I imagined, communicated in a language unknown to me. These men were different from the canonical “classic” cowboy — the white men I’d seen on television in Clint Eastwood films or in Marlboro advertisements somewhere in the West with cigarettes in their mouths. The only other image of cowboys that I had seen was the Mexican men who rode horses and worked on ranches in my mother’s hometown of Magdalena, a small rural town full of rancheros in the state of Jalisco. Seeing black cowboys riding through an urban neighborhood like Compton was incredibly transformative. It went against every conventional idea that I had at the time. These weren’t the cowboys I had learned about in my history books or seen on the big screen, and yet as I watched them ride at dusk on the same back streets known for rappers like Eazy-E and Dr. Dre, I recognized something inherent in the cowboys who existed in every western film and every hip-hop song: these black men were nonconformist, independent, and strong. They commanded attention and embodied a rebellious spirit, and, most importantly, they were utterly inspiring.
Years later, as a New York Times reporter, I reached out to a group of young black men who were calling themselves the Compton Cowboys. This group, like their predecessors, continued to ride horses through the city’s streets with a free and rebellious spirit. All of them learned how to ride on a ranch in the middle of Compton’s Richland Farms. This group, however, was doing more than riding horses for recreation. They were riding horses to free themselves from some of the dangers of street and gang life and as a way to heal from the trauma that haunted their lives. Their motto said it all: “Streets raised us. Horses saved us.” I wanted to learn more.
Excerpted from the book THE COMPTON COWBOYS: The New Generation of Cowboys in America’s Urban Heartland by Walter Thompson-Hernández. Copyright © 2020 by Walter Thompson-Hernández. From William Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers. Reprinted by permission.
If You Go: Book Club
Walter Thompson-Hernández, author of “The Compton Cowboys,” joins the L.A. Times Book Club in conversation with reporter Angel Jennings.
When: 7 p.m. June 24
Where: Free virtual event livestreaming on the Los Angeles Times Facebook Page and YouTube.
More info: latimes.com/bookclub