Childhood and Teenage Memories of a Paradox - An Angeleno's Tale - Part II

A Cop's Son Recollects Childhood Memories of the 1992 Los Angeles Riots and the 1994 Northridge Earthquake and Teenage Memories of the 2001 Los Angeles Mayoral Election

Part II of Childhood and Teenage Memories of a Paradox - An Angeleno’s Tale¹

In The Sorry State of U.S. Cities Is a Choice—A Really Bad One, John Halpin recently wrote that “Rather than being well-managed places for people to work and live in safely and affordably—with solid municipal governance, good public services, and thriving private businesses—too many American cities are failed ideological projects that drastically underserve their residents.”

This was the collective feeling in 1993 when Angelenos elected a Republican Mayor, Richard Riordan.² Under Riordan though, the negative feelings dissipated as he successfully rebuilt Los Angeles.

Yet, despite the success, the fear and the bad memories of the 1992 Riots quietly lingered in the minds of Angelenos.

In the Netflix documentary, 1992, the film opens with a montage of footage from the 1965 Watts Riots. It captures the end of a CBS news report by Bill Stout reporting on the McCone Commission Report.

Can it happen again? So serious and explosive is the situation says the Commission that unless it is checked, the August riots may be only a curtain raiser to what could blow up one day in the future.³

This ominous warning had proven prescient. And it was one that stayed in the minds of Angelenos after 1992.

Villaraigosa’s candidacy itself raised a thorny racial issue. As mentioned in the first installment, Hispanics/Latinos comprised 47% of the population of L.A. Yet, for a variety of reasons including intentional historical discrimination,⁴ they accounted for less than 20% of the electorate.

To win, Villaraigosa would have to build a multi-racial coalition - a multi-racial coalition that would overcome voters who had a natural psychological barrier to the concept of a Mexican American Mayor or who feared a Mexican American Mayor.

In 1973, some L.A. voters couldn’t psychologically conceive of a black Mayor or simply feared one. Yet in a city that was never more than 17% black, Tom Bradley overcame these obstacles to be elected Mayor of L.A. But after the 1992 Riots, many pundits believed such a thing was no longer possible.

It remained one more lingering question about the 1992 Riots. Had L.A. really recovered? Or did the 1992 Riots still cast their long shadow upon the city?

Certainly in retrospect, the 1992 Riots guided both my father and I in our Mayoral choices even though they led us in opposite directions.

I wanted a Mayor who would make me forget the 1992 Riots, a dark childhood memory, had ever happened. That candidate was Antonio Villaraigosa, the sunny optimist.

The consequence of having been a police officer during the 1992 Riots, my father could never forget them. He wanted a practical Mayor who could lead the city in case of another riot. That candidate was Steve Soboroff, the practical conservative.

Of course, neither candidate was likely to be Mayor.

By the early months of 2001, the Los Angeles Mayoral Election seemed pre-destined to be a runoff between City Attorney James Hahn and Steve Soboroff and Hahn was the overwhelming favorite in the general election.

Hahn possessed superior name recognition, having won citywide election five times and enjoying a beloved position within L.A.’s black community. Soboroff, as a self-funding candidate and the only Republican in the race, seemed the most likely to enter the runoff of any of the other major candidates.

Soboroff, however, was still considered an underdog. As a Republican, his candidacy would be a tough sell in a runoff because of the city’s natural Democratic lean and the general contentment of Angelenos.

To overcome the partisan voter registration advantage against him in the general election, Soboroff would need to win No Party Preference voters and make inroads among more moderate Democrats. That was difficult because, unlike eight years prior when Angelenos desperately wanted change, Angelenos now generally felt satisfied with the city.

Soboroff had other weaknesses as a candidate. He had never run for office before and lacked political polish.

While he probably would have been a very good mayor and drew devoted supporters, Soboroff struggled as a candidate. He was extremely blunt, completely unscripted, telling people his honest thoughts and feelings on issues (never a good idea in politics). It was a nightmare for his campaign consultants and campaign team.

In an L.A. Times profile, he shifted back and forth on important abortion rights questions, dismissed environmental concerns about the gas guzzling SUVs he drove, bragged about how successful his real estate developments were, and discussed his second home in a country club out in the desert (for when life at his ocean view Pacific Palisades mansion in a guard gated community proved just too stressful).

Unlike your typical wealthy candidate who promises to not accept the salary, Soboroff declared he would, flippantly declaring “I could use the money.”⁵ For good measure, he insulted everyone he attended high school with at Taft High School, a public high school in the Valley. He also bragged about the time he bought a lot just to spite a rival developer he disliked.

Soboroff’s style endured him to his strongest core supporters. But it raised questions as to his viability in the general election.

If Richard Riordan’s persona had been of one’s warm and loving Republican grandfather who takes the grandkids for ice cream, Soboroff’s persona was more emotionally unavailable Republican father who was there for the tough love.⁶

For Villaraigosa’s part, while he generated great excitement, gaining the endorsements of the Los Angeles County Democratic Party and Senator Barbara Boxer, he lagged badly in the polls. Very few pundits believed he had any chance of entering the runoff, let alone becoming Mayor.

In pre-election polling, Hahn led with a plurality followed by Soboroff in 2nd place. Notwithstanding the excitement he generated, Villaraigosa hung back in the pack, 3rd or 4th depending on the poll. He faced the typical challenges for a candidate with limited name recognition.

He also struggled to compete with other elected officials running. California State Controller Kathleen Connell, longtime Los Angeles City Councilman Joel Wachs, and Congressman Xavier Becerra also sought the Mayor’s office. They competed for media time, donor money, and voters willing to not vote for a frontrunner.

Villaraigosa seemed destined to be an also-ran.

But then came the final pre-election debate at UCLA, held about a week before the primary election.

From the moment that the debate began, it was clear that Hahn and Soboroff assumed that they would both advance in the primary election and would face one another in a runoff, as polls showed.⁷

It wasn’t long before fireworks between Hahn and Soboroff began. Largely ignoring the other candidates in the race, including Villaraigosa, Hahn and Soboroff went after each other like two rabid coyotes fighting over a deer carcass.

Soboroff appeared to take every attack from Hahn in a highly personal way, often becoming flustered and red-faced when responding to attacks from Hahn. He gave off the impression of having unresolved anger management issues.

In response, Soboroff repeatedly referred to Hahn as “Jimmy”, a nickname that Hahn apparently really did not like. Every time Soboroff referred to Hahn as “Jimmy”, which he did with increasing frequency during the debate, Hahn would become visibly angry and respond with a child-like temper tantrum, demonstrating the emotional maturity levels of a 13 year old boy - a very immature 13 year old boy.

As for the other candidates, Connell and Wachs came across as angry scolds with pessimistic views of L.A.’s future - a preview of the Saturday Night Live Debbie Downer sketches. Becerra didn’t seem to know why he was running for Mayor (except possibly to sabotage Villaraigosa).

Villaraigosa, on the other hand, was calm and measured. He declined to attack any of his opponents, and instead offered a sunny vision for LA’s future. Any voter watching that debate knew what the city could be under his leadership. He discussed his plans for expanding the city’s subway system, reducing our city’s business taxes, and taking over the moribund public school system.

When the other candidates dismissed his proposal for extending the subway to the sea as a pipe dream that would never happen (as of the publication of this post, Wilshire Boulevard in the Beverly Hills Golden Triangle is shut down for construction of said subway), Villaraigosa held his ground, calmly explaining the need and improved construction technology enabling it to be built safely.

There was no red faced anger, teenage temper tantrums, or negative ranting.

Villaraigosa had been critiqued throughout the campaign as being too inexperienced to be the Mayor. This honestly seemed more like an emotional argument and one based on feelings rather than anything logical.⁸ Even as a teenager, I intuitively understood that he was labeled “inexperienced” because he was young looking.

Yet, in that debate, he looked like the most experienced Mayoral candidate.

Perhaps the biggest moment though came after the debate. Not content with their on stage debate fireworks, Hahn and Soboroff continued to argue with each other backstage in full view of the news cameras. The two men got in each other’s faces to yell at one another, trading accusations and cuss words.

Villaraigosa, noticing Hahn and Soboroff were about to come to blows, calmly called out to both of them and gently diffused the situation.⁹

In that moment, he was a leader.

On Election Day, my father voted for Soboroff first thing in the morning at our Holmby-Westwood precinct in West L.A. I wouldn’t change his mind. Frankly, I hadn’t changed anyone else’s.

But if I felt any pessimism about the election that day, it quickly dissipated at school when my best friend (also a secret Villaraigosa supporter) told me a hopeful anecdote.

During the campaign, I had encountered some people who expressed negative opinions about Villaraigosa because they feared “immigrants taking over L.A.” It had really bothered me. It was ignorant (Villaraigosa wasn’t an immigrant). But more importantly, it was xenophobic.

My best friend advised me that the ignorance cut both ways. His parents, successful Indian immigrants, also erroneously believed Villaraigosa was an immigrant, just like them. On that basis, they and his immigrant grandmother had cast their ballots that morning for Villaraigosa at their Brentwood Park precinct. My best friend (not having been directly asked by them) declined to correct their misperception.

(Another valuable political lesson learned: sometimes it’s best to just shut up)

Later that day, Kay, the friendly woman who ran the school cafeteria (also a secret Villaraigosa supporter and always nice to me even before learning of our shared politics), gave me a nod and quiet smile when I asked if she had voted yet.

This gave me motivation to take one last shot at voter persuasion. When I arrived home from school in the afternoon, I made one last play to gain a vote for Villaraigosa. My mom had intended to vote for Soboroff. However, walking with my mom to the polls, I finally persuaded her to vote for Villaraigosa.

I hoped it was a good omen.

I won’t ever forget that election night. The best I hoped for at the outset was that Villaraigosa would somehow get into second place.

Around 9:30 pm, my younger sister gave me the bad news. “Villaraigosa lost,” she said.

The first numbers, vote-by-mail ballots, had reported. As expected, Hahn was in first place just narrowly ahead of Soboroff. Who would win the most votes between them was undecided but they would be in a runoff. Villaraigosa was in a strong third place, ahead of the other also-rans, but well behind Hahn and Soboroff. Given the large number of vote-by-mail ballots already cast, he would not make up the margin.

I was disappointed but honestly not surprised. The result was inevitable.

Disappointed, I got into bed to watch election coverage, contemplating the Hahn v. Soboroff runoff.¹⁰

But as I lay in bed, something odd began occurring. As the first precinct results began to report, the numbers suddenly began to change. Slowly at first but then steadily with each new precinct count update, Villaraigosa’s numbers ticked upwards. Every time a new batch of precincts reported, the two leaders would fall back and Villaraigosa would inch forward.

As the margins began to close, I jolted upright in my bed.

“Wait a minute, maybe he hasn’t lost!” I thought to myself.

Election night reporters covering the results began to notice the trend, pointing out that a shift like this meant Villaraigosa had won Election Day voters.

“I think Election Day voters must have watched that debate. They saw what I saw!”

My heart began to thud every time I saw a numbers update, as I now entertained the possibility that Villaraigosa might somehow win.

“Did Villaraigosa win Election Day voters by enough to make a difference?”

Roughly an hour and 20 minutes after the first numbers had reported, Villaraigosa surged past Soboroff for 2nd place.

“Holy crap! He might actually pull this off!”

By 11 pm, newscasters characterized the race as too close to call between Hahn and Villaraigosa. But even as they posted the numbers, the narrow Hahn lead switched to a narrow Villaraigosa lead.

“Wait a minute, this can’t be right. Might he actually come in first place?”

But Villaraigosa’s torrid surge continued. By the end of the newscast at 11:30 pm, Villaraigosa had surged into a clear lead over Hahn with Soboroff just narrowly behind him, with nearly all votes counted.¹¹

Seared permanently in my memory, just like my wake up from the Northridge Quake, were the photos of the three top candidates and the numbers shining brightly on my bedroom television screen:

Antonio Villaraigosa - 30%

James Hahn - 24%

Steve Soboroff - 22%

In a stunning upset, Villaraigosa, had not only entered the runoff, but finished in a decisive first place. The boy from the broken home in Boyle Heights who had no chance whatsoever to be Mayor had just made himself the frontrunner to be Mayor.

As I lay in bed that night, the excitement pulsing through my veins, I felt a sense of vindication as an Angeleno. Nine years after the 1992 Riots, a Mexican American candidate had won the Mayoral primary, his overall vote share almost double the number of Hispanic/Latino voters. The spirit of Tom Bradley was revived. Our city was redeemed.

Or so I thought.

In the runoff election, Hahn began a vile, race-baiting campaign against Villaraigosa. Most famously, he ran an attack ad showing a grainy mugshot of Villaraigosa’s face juxtaposed with brown hands cutting crack cocaine, with an ominous voice telling voters that “You can’t trust Antonio Villaraigosa”.

Whispering campaigns began about how Mexican people were “taking over” Los Angeles, how Villaraigosa would devote all city resources to Hispanics, and how Villaraigosa was really a “cholo”.

The racist campaign was not limited to white voters either but directed towards the black and Asian American communities as well. At a press conference for Hahn, one prominent progressive black Democratic Congressmember declared “Who is this Antonio Villaraigosa? Where did he come from? You cannot trust this man!”

Her language was coded but clear: “Mexican Americans are threatening foreigners who cannot be trusted.”

This is when I first learned of the black-brown political divide in L.A. that journalists and Substack writers

Peter Kiefer

and

Sam Quinones

wrote thoroughly about in Black vs. Brown: The Ugly History Behind the City Council Scandal.¹² Ugly to watch, this divide took center stage in the 2001 L.A. Mayoral runoff.

If there were white voters who could not psychologically conceive of a Mexican American Mayor, there were black voters who could and feared what it might mean for the black community. The Hahn campaign took full advantage.¹³

The race-baiting campaign turned off many, including my father. Disappointed by the primary results, he had planned to vote for Hahn because of the Los Angeles Police Protective League’s endorsement of him. However, the race-baiting campaign genuinely offended him.

“What is this racist horseshit?” He angrily grumbled whenever one of the ads showing the brown hands cutting crack cocaine came on.¹⁴

He angrily switched his vote to Villaraigosa.¹⁵ Mayor Richard Riordan and County Supervisor Zev Yaroslasvky abandoned their pledges of neutrality and endorsed Villaraigosa for the same reason. It outraged them to see a Mayoral candidate exploiting racial division for political gain.

Especially angered, Riordan had spent 8 years putting L.A. back together only to see Hahn restoking racial division. And for what? The opportunity to wear a sash that read “Mayor”?

Riordan wanted to make a statement against race baiting and hopefully assuage fearful voters - largely his core voters - that they could vote for Villaraigosa.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough. Hahn’s vile race baiting campaign worked. Villaraigosa narrowly lost the June runoff.

The percentage of the Hispanic/Latino vote actually rose to 22% of the electorate, most voting for Villaraigosa. However, Hahn won overwhelming majorities of white voters in the Valley and black voters in South Central Los Angeles.

My own Holmby-Westwood precinct had narrowly voted for Hahn too. Either a majority of my neighbors bought into his race-baiting campaign or they simply didn’t care. And I honestly wasn’t sure which reason was worse.

The loss hurt. L.A. was not a city redeemed but a city that had succumbed to the appeals of racism and xenophobia. I’d say it felt like a gut punch but being punched in the stomach underwater by a two-meter man in a water polo game hurt far less than this election loss did.

The next morning, the June gloom matched my mood. To borrow a phrase from

Lisa Selin Davis

, in her article Now is the Time for Viewpoint Diversity to Shine, “The air was thick and wet, with no chance of rain: heaviness everywhere.”

The shadow of the 1992 Riots still lingered over L.A. At the time, I despairingly wondered whether it would ever really go away.

But just a few months later, an odd accident of history occurred. When terrorists struck the United States on September 11, 2001, Hahn was outside Los Angeles. As a result of his absence, the job of Los Angeles Mayor fell to the Los Angeles City Council President.¹⁶

The City Council President at the time was now-U.S. Senator Alex Padilla.

Just a few scant months after Angelenos decided that we could not trust a Mexican American to lead our city, on one of the most significant days in American history, L.A. found itself with a Mexican American Mayor.

Padilla’s leadership that day was nothing less than stellar. He was steadfast and calm, reassuring a frightened public that L.A. was safe and would remain so. On a day when very few elected officials reassured us, Padilla did.

For Angelenos who could not conceive of or feared a Mexican American Mayor, Padilla’s presence on that day forever changed their psychological pre-conceptions. On that horrific day, we were all Angelenos, fearing Al Queda terrorists, not our Mexican American Angelenos.

Hahn’s absence from L.A. was not an issue. It just ironically provided an opportunity that undercut his own race baiting.¹⁷ Ironically as well, Padilla had not endorsed Villaraigosa for Mayor in 2001.

On that terrible day in 2001, L.A.’s future was sealed. Hahn proved a lousy and alienating mayor with an extremely corrupt administration.

In 2003, Villaraigosa won a seat on the L.A. City Council. In 2005, Villaraigosa ran for Mayor again. This time, coded racist appeals ceased to work. Villaraigosa won in a landslide, carrying strong majorities of every single racial group. The Valley, the Westside, and South L.A. all voted for him.¹⁸

As I celebrated that night, 1992 finally felt behind us. And I felt my own sense of resolute defiance as an Angeleno. We could be subject to disaster but we would survive and always come back.

My joy wasn’t just about Villaraigosa - who in all honesty was not a perfect Mayor and made mistakes. My joy was for our deeply misunderstood city. In L.A., a Mexican American boy from a broken home in Boyle Heights could grow up to be the Mayor.

Our unique blend of cultures, ethnicities, communities, and hidden intellectualism defined Los Angeles. The 1992 Riots did not define us. We were far more. And Villaraigosa had proven that in his victory.

As for Soboroff, he graciously conceded the 2001 election. He then retired from political life but not public life. While he would not seek office again, he continued to involve himself in Los Angeles civic life.¹⁹

The electorate’s rejection didn’t phase him like it often does for wealthy self-funding candidates. If being in elected office had been his goal, it ceased to be one. Or he decided he didn’t like campaign life and had better things to spend his money on.²⁰

Paradoxically, one of Villaraigosa’s first actions as Mayor in 2005 was to implement Soboroff’s proposed rush hour road construction ban.²¹

In response to Bass appointing Soboroff as Chief Recovery Officer, the L.A. Times wrote that “Bass and Soboroff have been an odd pairing.”

Perhaps, but their friendship seems like another paradox befitting of L.A.

It’s why, as awful and devastating as January’s wildfires were, I feel a sense of defiant optimism in the aftermath.

On Thursday, I had lunch with a friend and client who had lost his home in the Palisades Fire. While the fire had up-ended his life, he seemed defiantly optimistic.

When I brought up the argument raised that ten pre-deployed fire engines would have saved his home, he shook his head and wryly smiled. “Oh Max, that would not have done anything,” he said.

While upset, he had the attitude of someone diagnosed with a serious but ultimately curable medical illness. “I always wanted to flip a house and now I’m finally getting the opportunity,” he quipped. His private contractors had almost finished clearing his lot and he was already working with city officials on submitting his rebuilding plans.

The Palisades Fire had taken his home - but it hadn’t taken his spirit. Like so many Angelenos in the face of disaster, he was resolutely defiant.

The 1992 Riots, the 1994 Northridge Earthquake, and the litany of other disasters - The 1965 Watts Riots, the 1971 Sylmar Earthquake, the 1933 Long Beach Earthquake, the 1963 Baldwin Hills Dam Break, the 1978 Mandeville Canyon Fire, the 1961 Bel Air Fire, and the 1933 Griffith Park Fire (which remains the deadliest wildfire in the city’s history) - should have broken us.

Yet we somehow recovered each time. And if past is prologue, we will recover yet again.

The 2001 Mayoral Election should have broken us too - left us forever racially divided. It didn’t and a new multi-racial Bradley Coalition arose from the ashes and rubble just four years later.

It’s just part of the paradox that is Los Angeles.

1. I recommend reading Part I of this Substack installment before reading this second Part II Substack installment.

2. The author of this article is an attorney licensed to practice in the State of California and the District of Columbia. This article and all of the works on this Substack page are statements of the opinions of the author, only, and do not constitute legal advice; they are not intended to be relied upon by any individual or entity in any transaction or other legal matter, past, pending, or future. A paid subscription to this Substack page supports the author’s scholarship and provides access to research that the author has compiled, but does not establish an attorney-client relationship. The author does not accept unsolicited requests for legal advice or representation, and this Substack page is not intended as legal advertising. The opinions expressed on this Substack page reflect the personal views of the author only.

3

4. See, e.g., Calderon v. City of Los Angeles, 4 Cal. 3d 251, 261-262 (Cal. 1971); Castro v. State of California, 2 Cal. 3d 223, 225 (Cal. 1970); Castorena v. City of Los Angeles, 34 Cal. App. 3d 901, 904 (Cal. Ct. App. 1973).

5. It’s why today, none of Soboroff’s media controversies or dustups as Chief Recovery Officer phase me and I evaluate his performance based upon what he is able to accomplish for Pacific Palisades. He doesn’t take anyone’s crap and his gaffes and politically incorrect statements are just part of the price of having him help the city.

6. I have a feeling that this is not how he is as a father. But it’s the public perception he gave off as a candidate.

7. Both positioned themselves accordingly. The stronger a first place Hahn received in the primary, the more likely he could retain his undisputed frontrunner status. If Soboroff could earn first place, it’d be considered an upset and give his campaign significant momentum.

8. Villaraigosa had been critiqued during the campaign as being too inexperienced to be the Mayor because he had not served in local elected office. I found this criticism to be off-point because both Soboroff and Riordan had never served in elected office before running for L.A. Mayor let alone local elected office. For that matter, prior L.A. mayors Fletcher Bowron, Norris Poulson, and Sam Yorty had not served in local elected government prior to being elected L.A. Mayor.

9. My memory here is admittedly fuzzy. I remember Villaraigosa fearlessly walking over to intercede though I can’t firmly remember for sure. Physically far smaller than both Hahn and Soboroff, my memory is that Villaraigosa (who was rumored to have once been in a knife fight defending his mom and sister at La Fonda Restaurant) gently separated the two men. But I cannot remember for sure that this occurred. Either way, he diffused the situation between the two rivals.

10. Helicopters continually buzzed above our house in Holmby-Westwood, which was underneath the flight path of helicopters transporting ballots from Valley precincts to the L.A. City Clerk’s office in downtown.

11. Soboroff would just narrowly miss the runoff, a couple percentage points behind Hahn, which remains the closest that any Republican has come to becoming the Mayor of Los Angeles in the 21st century.

12. I continue to highly recommend Peter Kiefer’s piece, My Own Private Palisades: A Writer Remembers His Vanished Neighborhood, where he discusses being a victim of the Palisades Fire himself and his unfortunately unsuccessful efforts to save his family home. It is a good read as it humanizes the victims of the Palisades Fire and serves as a reminder of the incredible suffering that has been caused. It’s easy to forget that when covering major disasters, looking at victims and destruction as mere statistics. I hope people will not do that here.

13. What surprised and upset the teenage me was to see the loudest voices against “racism”, engage in racism and stereotyping and do so against another non-white minority group with its own history of racial oppression.

14. My father had not put his life on the line during the 1992 Riots to defend a racist community where Mexican Americans (or any group for that matter) were made to be second class citizens and deemed untrustworthy simply by their ethnicity.

15. My father is one of those Soboroff-Bass voters and continues to strongly support Bass, considering her the second best Mayor of L.A. in his lifetime, second only to Richard Riordan.