Published

Not much else to say but here it is.

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Taking over

I was in college when it looked like the Japanese were going to take over the world. For the time that I worked for Japanese production companies I found them rather fun loving and quite respectful of America. They were fascinated by the endless wide-open spaces; the 115-degree heat of the Mojave Desert just plain freaked them out.  Did you know that handling a black camera in those conditions sucks out loud?

Now I find it amusing that the Chinese are being looked at as taking over the world. No, wrong, it’s not going to be a country or ideology that will encompass us all.

Information will crush under everyone and everything. It will deliver more details and less truth. We have become bathed in ideas and a dearth of understanding.  We are infused with data and drained of logic.

We think were learning. Were learning not to think.

Turning the Page

            I thought eight years of working with crime scenes would make me somewhat immune to grief.  Unfortunately, it has not worked out that way.

            Parker Center, named after Chief Parker in 1966, started to go up in 1952 and was completed in 1955.  There were many quirks to the building.  To name a few, it was overly built, yet unable able to take earthquake retrofit; they spent more than ten million dollars installing a fire system that never worked; it had a helicopter pad on top and palm trees in front; it was referred to as PAB or Police Administration Building; and it was HQ for a long time.  I made a complaint once about rats humping at the back entrance.

            I don’t really miss the idea of being there.  The location for my workplace was a leftover hand-me-down that we made work.  Craftsman originally did the retrofit from crime lab to photo lab.  Fifty years later, the very best craftsmanship had shown the wear of neglect.  

            We made jokes by writing on the huge cracks in some of the walls created by earthquakes and made larger with every one that came along.  There were toilets that did not work and sinks that would not turn off.  I did not like the building at all and am glad to be moving out.

            The only memorable things the building held for me were memories of those who passed away and left us behind.  As I walked in and out of small rooms and stared out of a night-filled window, I remembered one of the kindest people to ever work there.  He was my introduction to the City and LAPD in general.  

            I am filled with such grief that he is now departed and there will be no place for me to go to remember him on a daily basis.  In another room, I recalled the last conversation I had with another kindly gentleman who passed away just two years prior.  In that moment, I could not believe the torrent of emotions that came over me when I realized I was looking a glimpse of the past for the last time.

            My memories will last a bit longer than my stay at Parker Center and even LAPD.  Tomorrow, however, the page must be turned.

Over

            The Christmas season is difficult in my business.  The juxtaposition of festive arrangements and bodies do not mix together well.  After eight years on this job, if I retire tomorrow, I will never miss seeing another murder next to a Christmas tree.

            Over the years, I have photographed an assault, a murder, a natural, and a suicide during the holidays:  A young man survived being stabbed many times about the head and chest; A young mother was shot at contact range while laying on her couch; An old man died in his living room after finally losing his battle with cancer; Another old man jumped from a bridge over the Harbor Freeway.  And to think, that was just during the week leading up to Christmas.

            Lately, I have been coming home to a decorated tree that fills my living room with the fresh scent of pine I remember as a child.  I am lucky to be able to have one and so very grateful for the talent that decorated it.

            This year will soon be over.  I am grateful to be alive, healthy, and happy surrounded by love.

A future

            I am buoyed quite often by my dreams of what lies ahead.  Like many are apt to do when thinking about their future, I focus beyond the scene in front of me.  For most of you, it is retirement; for me, it is my writing.  

            I became engrossed with this blog knowing it was read by so many around the world.  (Hello Finland!)  It never would have continued if it were not for one, adorable ankle-biter who has helped me mature as a writer.

            The other day I was working a long FTC.  (Fatal Traffic Collision.)  Two young people died.  The excitement of a new, powerful car took over the driver’s sensibilities; he lost control, killing himself and the passenger.

            Many on the scene had become quite grouchy.  It may have been the combination of the tension caused by City budget problems or the overwhelming media presence.  Perhaps the scene was somehow gnawing on their insides; sometimes, the job just gets to you.  In this case, it was truly an unnecessary loss of young lives. I felt blessed to have my writing to think about.

            This blog has been a wonderful safety valve for me and a saving grace; I have enjoyed writing every word of it.

            My future has already begun with the completion of my first novel, which is currently in the hands of beta readers.  It took more than nine intense months of rewrites and revisions to complete.  I am a changed man because of the experience, which has proved to be humbling, heartbreaking, and challenging to say the least.  I am so grateful the ‘whirlwind of a process’ did not ruin my loving relationship.

            Although my posts may not be updated as often, this blog will continue.  An expanded version will be published in an E-book format very soon.  Many of the questions I have been asked throughout my career will be properly answered, and I intend to announce the title here first.

            Allow yourselves to dream about the future you desire.  Better yet, dream with somebody else.  Like me, the future you imagine today could very well become the life you live tomorrow. 

Green Light

Just like the traffic signal, this sigil of a saying has one purpose:  To let someone know it’s okay to proceed.

When I worked in Hollywood, ‘green light’ was the ultimate phrase anyone anxious to begin a project wanted to hear.  It was final approval.  Few in the industry are allowed the privilege to confirm whether something is green lit or not.  You either had the money to green light a project or you were the spokesperson delivering the message.  No matter where you were in the hierarchy of the industry, you anticipated hearing the phrase, ‘green light’.

Some in my business never want to hear it.  I know I don’t.  In my line of work, it means someone in the hierarchy of the gang structure has given the okay to commit murder.  I recently learned that members of the southern California gangs operating outside of California were given an automatic green light to get shanked.  

A shank is a makeshift stabbing weapon.  Prisoners make shanks out of anything that’ll maintain its shape long enough to be shoved into someone else.  An inmate will use a glass shard to work off a piece of furniture, sink, toilet, or whatever else over a period of weeks, even months.  They’ve been discovered in every hiding place you can possibly imagine, including rectums.  For people who do not read, this craft is one they spend their time perfecting.

I’d been working an OIS (Officer Involved Shooting) in an area just north of Dodger Stadium when I witnessed a sudden shift in the attitude of the officers around me.  Since I was the only civilian, I questioned the nearest person in uniform.  He proceeded to tell me that the Mexican Mafia had just given the green light to kill a police officer.  I was suddenly relieved and comforted by the fact I would not be mistaken for one from any angle or distance.  

Although the order was never carried out, we were forced to wear our bulletproof vests before traveling into that particular area for months after the incident.

Over the years, I’ve learned that everything good can easily be twisted into something bad.  I now know what a simple, innocent catchphrase means in the minds of those hell-bent on wielding power over life and death.  I am, however, keenly aware that I too wield power over my own life; the only one with any real authority to green light a positive attitude.