The ring of the old black phone had an ominous tone. Something had happened not far away which had the neighborhood on edge. “Hello, M.D.? Oh, M.D.! We’ve got to come pick you up (from work) right now … the police beat up a boy down in Watts and they’ve been burnin’ things ever since. Yeah, we’re fine … but you’ve never heard so many sirens. They’re ’bout to break into White Front. We’re on our way.”
It was never a long drive to Union Station for M.D., but on this night little kids couldn’t meet the Super Chief as they usually did. On the way back, they managed to duck past a gauntlet of flaming buildings along the old Vernon-Central shopping district. Just as the car pulled into the driveway, looters one block away had emptied and set fire to a Safeway market. Part of the gallows humor that evening included the comment: “Well, they sure lit Nat Diamond’s cigar” in reference to a neon sign of a little Jewish man in a smoking jacket. That furniture store, along with dozens of merchants big and small in South Los Angeles, went up in flames and never returned to this side of town.
It was the Watts Riots. It was the end of the innocence.
If T.S. Elliot’s seminal poem, “The Waste Land,” could somehow posit criticism of mid-century urban America, it would undoubtedly lament the past 50 years in South Los Angeles. The nation this week will take a look back at Watts which is, arguably, the most familiar ghetto in the land. Watts has always been sort of a “step child” to Los Angeles—not always part of the city proper, but close enough to Downtown and the historic Black enclave stretching along Central Avenue to become the presumed hub of African American transplants to the City of Angels.
What perceived tranquility there was between the races came to a tipping point on Aug. 11, 1965, when a CHP patrolman passed motorist Marquette Frye and his brother, Ronald, at dusk at 116th Street and Avalon Boulevard. Suspecting a DUI, the two men were stopped, ordered out of their vehicle to take a sobriety test. Marquette Frye failed. The CHP officer radioed for a patrol car to pick up Frye; Ronald Frye was told he could not continue driving the car and, not far from home, proceeded to leave and get his mother so she could claim it. When the woman arrived, the original group of two dozen persons had swelled to more than 300. Mrs. Frye approached her son and scolded him for drinking. Frye began moving towards the crowd, which grew more hostile every passing minute on that warm summer evening. Soon both Frye brothers were struggling with the officers, and in an effort to subdue Marquette, one officer hit him in the head with his nightstick.
The crowd had swelled even larger. LAPD officers soon arrived, but long-simmering animosity between Blacks and local law enforcement resulted in the crowd growing to more than 1,000 persons. They were ordered to disperse. Then someone in the crowd spat at an officer; this person was detained and arrested for inciting a riot. But the crowd did not disperse, and by 8 p.m. passing vehicles were stoned; some White motorists were dragged out of the vehicles and assaulted. By 1 a.m. the outbreak appeared to be under control, but just before dawn unruly mobs again began throwing rocks and bottles and vandalizing stores.
‘Burn, Baby, Burn’
Among the famous names that swirled about the news that week (e.g. Yorty, Parker, Brown, Lindsay, et. al.), a local disc jockey—The Magnificent Montague (KGFJ AM-1230)—may have been the most prominent. It was his on-air catchphrase which was spray-painted on burned out buildings throughout South L.A.
The next five days consisted of a community-wide conflagration which ended with 34 persons dead and 1,032 injured. The civil unrest resulted in just slightly more than $40 million in damage to South Los Angeles where about 1,000 buildings were either damaged or destroyed. A coroner’s report revealed that 16 deaths came at the hands of the LAPD, and seven by the California National Guard. The LAPD suffered 90 injuries and 136 members of the Los Angeles Fire Department were injured as well.
Many lots along Central Avenue, Avalon Boulevard, Main Street, Broadway and Vermont Avenue remain barren today, symbolizing a permanent scar to the still, woefully underserved community. Over the past 50 years, the economic taxbase, community resources, schools and the general ambition and outlook among residents have remained scarred and cut off from the prosperity that originally attracted about a half-million African Americans to the West Coast at the end of World War II.
An eyewitness to mayhem
Research reveals that about 30,000 Angelenos were directly or indirectly affected by the riots. The majority of these persons, of course, were in the crosshairs of the rioters/looters, the LAPD and, later in the week, the California National Guard. “Sweet” Alice Harris, co-founder of Parents of Watts Working With Youth and Adults, had what one would describe as a “ring-side seat” during the uprising, and at the time was residing in the Jordan Downs housing development. She recalls her neighborhood that week resembling an “armed camp” illuminated by flames and the sidewalks spattered in blood.
“That was a terrible time then, not just for Watts but for the entire city,” Harris said, adding that many of the socio-economic problems endemic to Watts then are present today. “For a full week there was nothing but smoke, gunshots and sirens. People were shot dead right in front of where I lived.” Harris has worked these past 50 years to erase the memories of the riots.
“Here’s what we need in Watts: ‘love, training and jobs,’” she explained, referring to the motto of her organization which strives to place underserved young men and women into job training and on to full-time careers in such areas as construction, emergency medical technician, nursing, and education.
“We come across the same problems today that we did 50 years ago,” she said. “Now it’s a criminal record; a young person with a criminal record believes he/she is through. That’s why we worked so hard to pass Prop. 47 so that an old record can be wiped off … the person can get a new start. We instill pride and determination in our young people and tell them each day to ‘hold your head up’ and ‘you are somebody.’ It’s jobs, jobs, jobs! That’s what is most needed today in Watts. We’re training these young people and are developing within them character and self esteem that you need for a successful future.”
‘Like monkeys in a zoo’
The LAPD had never witnessed such anger in the Black community. The frustration had boiled over to such an extent that Chief William H. Parker described the people he saw involved in the riots as “monkeys in a zoo,” a statement that further inflamed already simmering tensions between the department and residents of South Los Angeles. The LAPD and the Sheriff’s department were quickly overwhelmed by the onslaught of persons roaming the Southside streets. By Friday of that week, Gov. Pat Brown had sent in a battalion of the 160th Infantry and the 1st Reconnaissance Squadron of the 18th Armored Calvary (about 2,000 men). These National Guard soldiers put a cordon around a vast region of South L.A. and the rioting was largely over by Sunday.
The next week, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. visited the city and requested a meeting with Chief Parker to discuss ways to reduce tension between the LAPD and African Americans. King spoke by telephone on Aug. 20 with President Lyndon Johnson to discuss his visit to Watts:
“In my meeting with Chief Parker and Mr. Yorty (Sam Yorty, mayor of Los Angeles), I just felt that they’re absolutely [too] insensitive to the problems and to the needs [of the community] to really cure the situation,” King said. “Now, Mr. Parker is a very rude man. We couldn’t get anywhere with him. But I just don’t see a willingness even on the part of the mayor to grant just a few concessions to make … to bring about a new sense of hope.”
King may have revealed 50 years ago what some of the rioters then (and today) believe about the incremental measure of social progress witnessed in the inner city.
“Their fight is for dignity and work,” he told Johnson. “This is the reason that the issue of police brutality looms so high. The slightest discourtesy on the part of an officer of the law is a deprivation of the dignity which most of the residents of Watts came [North] seeking. To treat this situation as though it were the result of the solely criminal element is to lead this community into a political holocaust.”
The ‘grass roots’ of Watts
Almost immediately after the fires were extinguished, the Watts Labor Community Action Committee (WLCAC) went to work. The organization has for 50 years served as a beacon of hope for the historically blighted community which, essentially, had to begin life anew after the civil unrest with little financial assistance for community improvement coming from the county, state or federal levels of government. The WLCAC began the Watts Summer Festival to put a spotlight on the arts and sports. The organization spearheaded the development of two shopping centers (one on 117th Street and Wilmington Avenue, the other at 103rd Street at Central Avenue). They hosted jobs fairs—most notably “Operation Bootstrap’’—and they played an instrumental role in securing a hospital for the community. There was even a famous benefit concert (“WattStax”) a few years later to help raise funds for needed community projects.
Tim Watkins, son of WLCAC founder Ted Watkins, remains at the forefront of change for Watts. He said political indifference to the plight of Watts remains a bitter issue today just as it was five decades ago.
“All of the efforts from the local to the federal government still have not trickled down to the people of Watts,” Watkins said. “Our organization has made self sufficiency and self determination a mantra of pride. We stepped into the void when the politicians essentially ‘threw their hands up’ and left Watts to fend for itself.” Watkins said the politicians over the years have “… said what they need to get elected,” but have never fulfilled campaign promises to help transform a community that is just 10 miles from one of the world’s most famous skylines.
“Watts has always been a ‘bump’ on the back of L.A.,” he said. “We’re represented out of San Pedro, and in more than 100 years this community has never been a priority downtown. The WLCAC will always be here for the people, and we have a lot of great things happening today.” One of those projects is the much vaunted Central Avenue Corridor, expected to transform a stretch of land from 103rd Street to Imperial Highway. Watkins said the WLCAC will be an important part of that mixed-use development which is expected to bring much-needed economic vitality to South Los Angeles by filling the vacant lots with retail, housing and more.
“The WLCAC owns a portion of that land, and we will see that project through. It’s been talked about for years, and it is going to happen,” Watkins said.
Harris said more park space is needed in Watts, along with more retail establishments “particularly some ‘sit-down’ restaurants.” To address an on-going gulf between the community and the LAPD, Harris said more communication and “relationship building” is sorely needed.
“You know the [LAPD] has the city’s largest budget, and we know there is room for them to help in our training efforts,” Harris said. “Before they arrest some of these children for a petty offense, how about working to help train and direct our young people? The LAPD still needs a better relationship with the people of Watts and South L.A.”
Despite five decades of changing demographics, Harris said Watts is constantly striving to add resources for its residents and to improve its image.
“In many ways, Watts is still an afterthought at city hall,” she said. “The older Black families began to leave after the riots. They moved on to Riverside, San Bernardino … to the east. The people of Watts learned to press on … keep moving in a positive direction. Now we’re bringing both Black and Brown together here. This is our community, and we will always demand our fair share.”
A return to normalcy
The fires were out a week later. All of the troops had dispersed. Police and firefighters went about their usual routines. The Dodgers were heading toward another World Series title; the Beatles returned to the Ed Sullivan Show … this time in color. When the Super Chief departed once again, little kids were still discouraged from running down the platform waving at it … but what the heck, the nightgmare was over. School began a few weeks later. We all walked through the burned-out shell of what was once a nice neighborhood, at times wondering if life would ever be the same.
Watts 50 years later
Commemorative events scheduled
By OW Staff
A number of commemorative events are scheduled in South Los Angeles in relation to the 50th anniversary of the Watts Riots.
Aug. 14 “Watts Rebellion 50 Years Later.” Luncheon and panel discussion sponsored by Watts Labor Community Action Committee (WLCAC), 10950 S. Central Ave., 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. Guests will include Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti; Los Angeles City Councilman Joe Buscaino (15th District); Tim Watkins, president of the WLCAC; Assemblyman Mike Gipson (64th District), and State Sen. Isadore Hall (35th District).
Aug. 15 Community Block Party. Grant AME Church, 10436 S. Central Ave., 10 a.m. to 6 p.m.
Aug. 15 “Watts Riots: 50 Years Later.” A symposium scheduled from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., sponsored by the Los Angeles Human Relations Commission. Charles Drew University of Medicine and Science, 1731 E. 120th St. Guests will include Los Angeles County Supervisor Mark Ridley-Thomas, “Sweet” Alice Harris, George McKenna, Ed.D., of Los Angeles Unified School District, and retired County Supervisor Yvonne Burke.
Aug. 15 Film screening of “The Joyce Ann Gaines Story: More Than a Riot.” Mayme A. Clayton Library and Museum, 4130 Overland Ave., Culver City. 2 p.m. (310) 202-1647. This documentary details how an obscure barber named Joyce Ann Gaines became the catalyst for the event and what was happening in her life before the event and afterwards.
Aug. 19 “Watts Phoenix 50.” Wrap-up meeting discussing how the Watts community is moving forward. WLCAC, 10950 S. Central Ave., 6 to 7 p.m.
Aug. 23 “Revisiting the Watts Rebellion Bus Tour” will begin and end at Watts Towers Art Center, 1727 E. 107th St. 10 a.m. Details: www.bustourofwattsriots@50.
Sept. 11-13 “Riot/Rebellion.” Culminating performance of a series of theatrical works presented throughout the Watts community. Watts Village Theater Company, WLCAC Tell-It Theater, 10950 S. Central Ave., 6 to 7 p.m.
Oct. 20 “Watts Talks.” Discussion of the concept of transformed neighborhoods that are inclusive and provide community-wide opportunities. WLCAC, 10950 S. Central Ave., 6 p.m.
Nov. 13 “Ted Watkins Day Legacy Celebration.” Celebrating the founder of WLCAC with personal stories about his life and legacy. WLCAC, 10950 S. Central Ave. Time TBA.
Through Jan. 28, 2016 “Watts: Then and Now.” Archives and contemporary photography exhibition. Library Cultural Art Center, Cal State Dominguez Hills, 1000 E. Victoria St., Carson. Photographs from this exhibition are scheduled for display at the WLCAC headquarters in Watts, 10950 S. Central Ave. Details: (310) 243-3696.
Watts 1965: Stories from
the heart of the unrest
By William Covington
OW Contributor
In Gerald Horne’s book “Fire this Time: The Watts Uprising and the 1960s,” the author describes how Black merchants attempted to protect their businesses from looters by painting signs that read “Negro owners” or the more trendy, “Blood Brother,” “ Negro Blood,” “ Soul Brother,” or “ Black Blood Brothers.”
But they were not the only one to try such tactics. A number of Japanese and Chinese shopkeepers survived Molotov cocktails lobbied at non-Black stores by labeling their stores with the same verbiage. Asian merchants often labeled their businesses; with signage indicating that although they aren’t Black, they identified with the oppressed. For example, a market owner at B and B Market located on the corner of 54th street and Mc Kinley Avenue painted, “ Me Chinese, but me Blood Brothers, too.”
Black business owners in Watts, Willowbrook, and Compton actually created more involved printed signs as a tool to protect their establishments.
Ronald Coulter a 55 year old African American male, remembers a trip to Compton that put him in the epicenter of violence. “During day two or three (of the unrest), I accompanied my family to the city of Compton. My father was traveling southbound on Central Avenue at night with my mother and myself and my two brothers. We had just left my oldest brother’s residence in Compton, when we encountered a mob that had set up a roadblock in Watts on Central Avenue. My parents were forced by a African American male adult to stop our car. My parents both immediately rolled down their windows and identified themselves as Black. My dad at the advice of our oldest brother, stuck his hand out the car window displaying one finger pointing upward.
“One of the members of the mob observed my father’s hand sign and immediately yelled out ‘they are from Watts let them through.”
It was later discovered that, “local Black residents who drove through roadblocks manned by rioters located in Watts were to give the pass sign—one finger meant you were from Watts, two meant Compton and three meant neighboring Willowbrook. Anyone not hip to this code risked a serious beating or even death,” if you encountered a crowd of opportunist attacking and robbing anyone regardless of race.
These hand signs were commercially printed and distributed to Black merchants, and were possibly first placed on Black businesses was done to prevent firebombing or looting of that location. Similar signs with same purpose appeared during 1992 civil unrest stating “ Black Owned Business,” according to University of Southern California Qualitative Social Scientist, Laura Pulido a
During the 1965 Watts riot, most looters were assumed to be African Americans, but there were a few who were not Black. During interviews with a Vietnam veteran and riot control specialist, OW came across the story of Eugene Shimatsu, a Japanese American and the fourth homicide victim of the Watts riots.
Prior to the unrest, Shimatsu became friends with David Alexander while they both attended 37th Street Elementary School (now Lenicia B. Weemes Elementary School). Even though Shimatsu spoke very little English in grade school, both boys became good friends in the fourth grade according to Alexander.
Shimatsu was a Japanese American by birth, however culturally he was Black. At school, he was the only Asian kid and he had all-Black friends. When Alexander met him, the two boys played handball together. They both attended Foshay Jr. High, and he continued to bond with Blacks.
The boys graduated and Alexander attended Manual Arts High while Shimatsu attended Dorsey. The boys lost contact as teens.
Years later Alexander was talking about the Watts riot and described how as a child he befriended a Japanese kid by the name of Eugene Shimatsu. He tells the story of how during a tour in Vietnam during the Tet Offensive (1968), the United States Army transferred him to Ft. Hood, Texas, to train in the art of riot control. While stationed there he bunked in the same barrack below a Japanese American soldier. That man told Alexander that Asians were not allowed to fight in Vietnam and consequently, he remained stateside. Both GIs became very close and realized they had a lot in common, mainly the fact that they both lived in Los Angeles.
One night, Alexander told his new friend about the first Japanese American he befriended—a childhood friend by the name of Eugene Shimatsu.
Ironically, the two find they had something in common—knowledge of Shimatsu.
Alexander’s new Asian friend also knew Shimatsu and mentioned rumor a he had heard that Shimatsu had been killed in the Watts riot.
Further research revealed that Eugene Shimatsu was shot Aug. 15, 1965 by the LAPD. According to OW research, Eugene Shimatsu, an 18 year old Japanese American residing at 3460 Second Ave. was shot in the chest by an LAPD officer at a liquor store located at 5440 W. Washington Blvd. Shimatsu was looting the store with eight other youth during the incident, according to an archived issue of the Daytona Beach Morning Journal newspaper dated, Monday Aug. 16, 1965. He became the fourth homicide of the Watts riot.
Although it is impossible to find any printed memos on LAPD policy during the Watts riots, apparently officers felt it was okay to shoot looters.
Minutes before Shimatsu was gunned down for stealing alcohol, Frederick M. Hendricks a 19-year-old Black student was shot in the neck at another store. The Coroner’s report listed the cause of death as “shot in the neck, lacerations innominate [his] artery,” massive hemorrhage. Hendricks was leaving a liquor store with looted bottles of alcohol.
