A high tolerance for murder
LOLITA HARPER
The yellow tape was down. The police were gone. The alley was empty.
The apartments looked deserted. Just 24 hours after a murder on the
corner of Wilson Street and Placentia Avenue, there were no signs of
life from the community.
A stark contrast from the day before when, even with police
crawling over every inch of that intersection, life seemed to go on
as usual. At 1 p.m. Saturday, the neighborhood was bustling. People
were walking to and from the store. Residents were on their front
porches, talking to their neighbors, watching their children play.
At the same time on Sunday, there was not a soul in sight.
Except for one man, who was washing his car just feet from where
20-year-old Ferdinand Euginio Zamudio-Saucedo was shot dead Saturday.
Where is everyone? I asked.
“It’s Sunday. Everyone is at church,” Alberto Rodriguez told me in
Spanish.
Mexicans, El Salvadorians, Peruvians, Costa Ricans and Latinos in
general tend to be very faith-driven. While many work 12 hours a day,
six days a week, Sunday is the day for rest, reflection and religion.
The water from the hose hit the roof of his car, ran down the
sides and formed a stream that led to the green marks spray-painted
on the ground by police crime scene investigators. Shorthand codes
for various criminological terms littered the asphalt, a subtle
reminder that a life was lost in that very spot.
“Do you think people will stay inside because of the shooting?” I
asked Alberto.
They may, for a few days, Alberto said, but for the most part the
people in his neighborhood are survivors. Instead of hiding out, they
will most likely be more aware. They will watch to see who is walking
up the driveway. Who is new or unfamiliar. Who exactly is hanging out
in the alley. You know, look out for their own.
“We know now what can happen,” he said. “We know what to watch
for.”
On Saturday, all of the residents I had spoken with -- 8-year-old
children, teen mothers, adult parents -- recognized a “negative
element” in their community but seemed only slightly bothered by it.
They were aware of drugs and fights in the alley. They knew that
reputed gang members lived among them.
The information was shared frankly. The way it was was the way it
was, they said. Period. Life goes on. It doesn’t stop for hardship.
And if it did, it would have been over long ago.
How can people who have such strong religious convictions be so
tolerant of such behavior?
Latinos are largely Catholic, Alberto said, and Jesus Christ is
the cornerstone of Catholicism. In the Bible, it says that Jesus
spent the majority of his time with prostitutes, thieves and tax
collectors rather than heads of state, clergy and those who were more
socially acceptable. Faith teaches people not to turn their backs on
those who need guidance the most, he said.
“These are our sons, brothers and cousins -- they are our family,”
he said. “Besides, boys will be boys.”
Ah, a familiar saying in the machismo-dominated Latin culture. I
have seen it in my own familia.
Men make sure their sons display might, while their mothers light
candles for them at church. An odd combination of faith and strength
are the foundation for the community. You do what you must to get by,
forging a strong front and gathering the respect of your compadres,
all the while desperately believing that something better is waiting
when it’s all over.
Strength. Power. Valor. Being able to drink a beer on your porch
after a grueling day’s work without a sideways glance or harsh word.
The attitude trickles down to the youngest of the “men,” who are
often still boys. In lower-income communities, respect does not
necessarily come because your father is a wealthy developer, a
district attorney or a doctor. Respect is earned through sweat and
hard work. And often through force.
For older generations, respect can be found in an honest paycheck,
a hard day’s work or a good game of soccer. Too often, the term
“respect” is erroneously used by second-generation street kids to
describe power, ignorant pride and the ability to strike fear in the
hearts of “the enemy.”
That type of respect is paid for in blood, as residents learned
Saturday.
Perhaps it is time to take a sideways glance or say a harsh word.
I’m sure we would rather offend someone than bury him.
* LOLITA HARPER writes columns Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and
covers culture and the arts. She may be reached at (949) 574-4275 or
by e-mail at [email protected].
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