The call went out on a
typical Wednesday morning: OnStar, the
safety, navigation and communication system available on all General Motors’
vehicles reported an unknown trouble at the intersection of Moorpark Street and Tyrone Avenue. The LAPD dispatch officer
asked for more details. The alarm had
been activated on a black Cadillac SUV indicating either distress or an
accident, however, the OnStar operator said the line was open and she could
hear frantic voices. Several LAPD units
responded “Code three,” which usually means lights and sirens. Within seconds, the first officers arrived
only to find a major complication. At
the intersection of Moorpark Street and Tyrone Avenue sits Casa de Cadillac, a
dealership serving the Los Angeles area for more than 50 years. The responding officers found literally
hundreds of black Cadillac SUVs in neat and ordered rows in several parking
lots. Which vehicle had the trouble was
anyone’s guess. Later, it was determined
that a mechanic had accidently set off the call while repairing a car.
The Long Beach Press Telegram reported this
week that, “Unable to pay for a funeral, an Apple Valley woman reportedly told
sheriff’s deputies she was forced to bury her husband in a shallow grave in the
couple’s backyard weeks after the man died.”
Apple Valley is a high desert community about 95 miles northeast of Los
Angeles. Deputies came to the home for a
“welfare check” on the 63-year-old man.
The woman made no attempt to hide her “crime.” She led deputies to the grave and reportedly
knelt down nearby as the officers uncovered her husband. Neighbors set up a fundraising account at
Fundrazr.com where people can donate to help the woman give her husband a proper
burial. The effort netted $120 in the
first hour. A local men’s apparel store
promised a suit for the deceased. In
California, it is illegal to bury a human body anywhere but in a public cemetery.
A woman taking
pictures at the tourist trap location of Hollywood Boulevard and Highland Avenue was stabbed to death by three transients when she refused to give them a
dollar. This is the location of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre where so many movie stars have placed their hand and foot
prints in wet cement. The woman took a
photograph of the transients because she found the sign they were holding to be
amusing. The sign read: “Fuck you.
Give me a dollar, please.” After
snapping the picture, the men demanded money and when the woman refused, they
jumped on her, knocking her to the ground.
When she stood up, blood gushed from a wound in her stomach. She died a few feet from the well-known
Hollywood Walk of Fame.
Also near Hollywood,
journalist Michael Hastings died in a fiery solo car crash on North Highland
Avenue. Hastings, 33, was an
award-winning journalist who wrote a 2010 Rolling Stone profile of General Stanley McChrystal that led to the career military
officer’s resignation. According to
colleagues and friends of Hastings, the journalist had claimed in recent weeks
that he was under investigation by the FBI, however the LAPD released a
statement saying there appeared to be no foul play involved in the accident. Hastings’ car was caught on video traveling
at a high rate of speed just before the accident by a freelance news team working nearby on an unrelated story. Conspiracy theorists are already hard at work
trying to prove something more sinister, and with the recent revelations of National
Security Agency monitoring of cell phone and social media communication without
warrants, anything is possible.
So what does all of
this mean? Every city has its oddities,
its stupid criminals, its inept politicians.
There is no shortage of tragedy and despair anywhere in America. Los Angeles, though, always has an extra
layer of weirdness, that additional aura of eeriness. Writers like Joan Didion and James Ellroy
have chronicled the creepy L.A. scene going back decades, and those of us
native to the city know that behind the shiny brightness of the Rose Parade and
Tinseltown, darkness lurks. Los Angeles
is a city of juxtapositions, of brilliant sunshine and steely knives, of big
dreams and drive-by shootings. On a
typical week, there are a million
stories in the naked city, and many of them are tinged with weirdness and
tragedy.
Today is the first day
of summer, and tourists are already flocking to Santa Monica, Hollywood, and Universal
City. But the heat brings an uptick in
strangeness, a harbinger of dark violence that lingers over this town like
smog. People should be forewarned not to
become one of those million stories. The
streets can be funny, sad, frightening and odd.
Be careful out there.