LAPD Shootings: Mistakes were made, Times investigative report
Tom Boland (wgcp@earthlink.net)
Sun, 7 Nov 1999 20:08:38 -0800 (PST)
***********************************************************
HOMELESS PEOPLE'S VIEWS, News, Alerts, Actions & Research
6,000+ ONLINE POSTS by or via homeless & ex-homeless people
HOMELESS PEOPLE'S NETWORK http://aspin.asu.edu/hpn
***********************************************************
Could better training on how to respond to emotionally stressed persons
help to reduce police use of deadly force? Or is more required? Is so,
what?
http://www.latimes.com/news/state/19991107/t000101344.html
FWD Los Angeles Times - Sunday, November 7, 1999
MISTAKES SEEN IN LAPD SHOOTINGS OF MENTALLY ILL
Police: A Times study of uses of deadly force raises questions about
officers' tactics and internal probes of the incidents. Chief says all
police shootings get close scrutiny.
By STEVE BERRY, JOSH MEYER, Times Staff Writers
The Los Angeles Police Department has shot and killed a dozen
mentally ill or unstable people over the past six years in confrontations
involving questionable tactics and use of deadly force, according to police
records and witnesses to the shootings.
A detailed Times study of five shootings also raises questions about
departmental inquiries in which LAPD investigators appeared to falsify
information, distort witness statements or ignore damaging facts. In those
cases, The Times was able to obtain copies of confidential police documents
and tape recordings.
Since 1994, Los Angeles police officers have shot 37 people who,
according to police reports, were exhibiting irrational behavior or
symptoms of mental disorders. Twenty-five of those people were killed.
Accounts of police encounters with the mentally ill were compiled by
The Times from police chiefs' reports to the Police Commission on more than
320 officer-involved shootings since 1994. Neither Los Angeles nor other
major American cities specifically track such incidents.
In all 37 shootings of mentally ill people, police said they were
forced to fire to protect themselves or bystanders.
But in 12 of the incidents, based on standards agreed upon by
nationally recognizedauthorities on policing and mental illness, officers
took actions that helped push confrontations to fatal conclusions; in
another encounter, an autistic man was permanently paralyzed.
Those incidents translate into an average of one questionable
shooting of people in mental crisis every five months.
"I had no idea what a large problem this was," said Carla Jacobs, a
Long Beach-based board member of the National Alliance for the Mentally
Ill.
In one of the cases, police shot and killed a disoriented and
apparently suicidal man as he ambled lethargically in a hospital parking
lot, holding a knife that he already had used to partially disembowel
himself, police records and a videotape show.
In another, officers surrounded a mentally ill father of five, then
killed him after an electronic stun device failed to work properly. Eight
witnesses disputed the official police account that the man was shot after
he charged at officers.
Police Chief Bernard C. Parks would not comment on specific cases.
But he said that all police shootings have been thoroughly investigated and
that most were justified. He said the department has to rely on officers'
judgments about the degree of threat they confront in such incidents.
The LAPD's policy is that police can use guns to protect themselves
or others from immediate threat of death or serious injury after nonlethal
options are tried or deemed impractical.
Said Deputy Chief Martin Pomeroy: "In a long and difficult case, if
you nit-pick you're liable to find something you disagree with, but that
doesn't invalidate the [department's] overall finding."
The LAPD refused to provide its investigative records on the
shootings. But drawing on other sources, The Times obtained confidential
police records for four of the fatal shootings and for the case in which
the man was paralyzed.
Those records, along with videotapes of two shootings, court
documents and dozens of interviews with witnesses and experts in law
enforcement and mental health, show that in those five cases:
* Officers shot before the person being confronted seemed to pose an
immediate threat, which is a requirement of the LAPD's use-of-force policy,
or fired without trying available nonlethal options, such as negotiations,
stun devices and beanbag shotguns.
* Police used tactics such as screaming orders at disturbed people
who appeared oblivious to their commands, or put themselves in harm's way
by getting too close to the disturbed person. Such tactics, according to
experts on use of force and mental health, frequently escalate the
encounter to the point where officers are compelled to use deadly force.
* Internal investigations of the shootings missed or ignored key
eyewitnesses. Officers involved also appeared to be guided by detectives
during questioning or were given the opportunity to coordinate their
stories.
In the other eight fatal shootings, public reports by the chiefs of
police indicated that officers committed some of the same tactical mistakes
in dealing with people in the throes of a mental crisis. The cases could
not be thoroughly explored because of the LAPD's refusal to provide its
investigative reports, and the records were not available elsewhere.
LAPD superiors often determine shootings to be "in policy," even if
the use of deadly force became unavoidable due to flawed police tactics.
All but one of the 12 questionable fatal confrontations were judged to be
justified.
The Times undertook its inquiry shortly after the May 21 shooting of
Margaret Mitchell, a diminutive, 55-year-old mentally ill homeless woman.
One officer said he fired at Mitchell after she lunged at him with a
screwdriver on La Brea Avenue. The fatal shooting ignited a storm of
protest, particularly when questions were raised about the thoroughness of
the department's investigation into Mitchell's death.
Critics wondered why two officers could not subdue the 5-foot-1-inch,
102-pound woman without resorting to deadly force. Parks has ruled the
shooting adhered to the department's policy on use of deadly force, but he
criticized the officer's tactics in the moments before the shooting, saying
he missed a chance to disarm Mitchell.
The department describes its inquiries into police shootings as "an
elaborate system of investigative and administrative review" in which cases
are examined "thoroughly, intensively and exhaustively." Parks said
officer-involved shootings should be probed as rigorously as any other
case.
After a shooting occurs, departmental investigators gather facts on
which all official judgments are made. A Use of Force Review Board, made up
of command staff and a peer officer, is convened to review the case. It
forwards its findings to the chief, who issues a written report.
Both the panel and the chief rely on the quality of the investigative
detectives' work to render oversight.
The civilian Police Commission then reviews the chief's written
report and other investigative material. Although that panel has passed
judgment on hundreds of shootings in the last 10 years, it has disagreed
with LAPD findings fewer than five times, never during Parks'term. None of
the chiefs' reports to the commission evaluates whether the involved
officers' actions were appropriate in dealing with someone suffering a
mental crisis.
In the Mitchell shooting, mental health advocates and police experts
said her unkempt appearance and irrational behavior should have alerted
officers Edward Larrigan, 29, and Kathy Clark, 30, that she suffered mental
problems. The two bicycle officers had stopped Mitchell to ask if she had
stolen the shopping cart she was pushing.
"Who walks along with all their belongings in a shopping cart except
an emotionally disturbed person?" asked Temple University professor James
Fyfe, a use-of-force expert and a former New York City police lieutenant.
There were other signs. Mitchell, rather than responding rationally
to the uniformed officers, pulled a screwdriver and told them to leave her
alone.
Even as they pointed guns, she allegedly threatened them, and then
pushed the cart down the street with the officers following close behind.
Larrigan said he had to shoot Mitchell when he got within eight feet of her
because she lunged at him with the screwdriver.
"Why did they let themselves get that close?" said Lou Rider, a
former LAPD deputy chief and now a police training consultant.
"When you compress the zone between you and the subject, you are
creating greater jeopardy to yourself [and] agitation, like a cornered dog
gets."
He said only one officer should have pulled a gun to provide cover
while the other talked calmly, ultimately using chemical spray if necessary
to control Mitchell.
Parks told City Council members in a closed meeting that all credible
civilian witnesses gave statements consistent with the official version of
the shooting. But two of those witnesses said in interviews with The Times
that they told police that Mitchell never lunged and that the shooting was
avoidable in their view.
Moreover, The Times' examination of the five shooting cases for which
detailed records were available found a pattern of excessive reliance on
lethal force.
Jeffrey Hobson, 35 / March 29, 1996
Fearing he was sick from marijuana tainted with PCP, Hobson cut
himself with a long knife and drove himself to the emergency room, hoping
the wound would gain him admission, said Lucretia Clark, a close friend.
He died in a three-minute confrontation that unfolded in a parking
area at Daniel Freeman Medical Center in Inglewood after a brief police
pursuit.
A camera crew filming for a reality-based television series captured
the confused, eerie parking lot scene--the shirtless Hobson holding a knife
and fingering a bloody piece of his own intestines, while emergency lights
flashed and a police helicopter circled. Eight officers aimed their guns at
him and shouted orders.
Such extraordinary displays of force "can stimulate violence rather
than defuse it," Fyfe said.
Hobson took two steps forward. Several officers said later they heard
him say, "Kill me."
Sgt. Christopher Casey got in position to use an electronic stun
device designed to knock the fight out of defiant suspects. Before he could
use it, Hobson took four slow steps toward the hospital building, and
Officer John Wilson shot him.
Later that night, Wilson, Casey and other officers told investigators
the same story: Hobson held a knife in a "threatening manner," headed for
the emergency room doors and posed an immediate threat to people inside.
Former Police Chief Willie L. Williams, in his report to the Police
Commission, accepted that version, saying Hobson was headed for the doors
18 threat. Williams wrote that he was "pleased with the tactics" and
concluded that the shooting was "in policy." The Police Commission reviewed
the videotape and upheld the ruling.
But the video, photos, police and court records and interviews with
witnesses indicate that Hobson posed no immediate threat when shot, as
department policy requires.
Hobson didn't face the emergency room doors. He stood 26 feet
away--not 18--and stepped slowly east toward the corner of the building,
not southeast toward the doors.
Moreover, police had seven guns trained on Hobson to stop him, had he
dashed for the doors.
Even if he managed to elude the gunfire, he could not have gotten
through the doors. Wilson later admitted in a sworn deposition that he knew
from many prior visits to Daniel Freeman that the door could not be opened
from the outside.
The investigators' final report on the shooting contained several
discrepancies with the video and with tape recordings of their interviews
with witnesses.
Here are some examples:
* The report said Hobson brandished the knife threateningly. But the
video shows he held it down along his leg during the moments before the
shooting. It swung slightly with the motion of his body.
* Tape recordings of interviews with civilian witnesses show that
detectives' summaries of four statements deleted parts in which they said
Hobson did not turn to the emergency room doors as police claimed.
* Summaries of three of those statements deleted parts in which
witnesses said Hobson did not raise the knife in a menacing way. One police
summary said a witness saw Hobson raise the knife over his head several
times; the witness never said that on the tape.
Deputy Chief Pomeroy said in an interview with The Times that he
couldn't account for the discrepancies, but said they don't "taint the
investigation or the outcome."
During a closed-door meeting of the department's Use of Force Review
Board in the Hobson case, Parks--then a deputy chief--at one point
expressed doubt that Hobson posed an immediate threat, according to
documents provided by a source close to the investigation.
In fact, based on his review of the evidence, Richard Dameron, then
director of the Police Commission's staff, said Hobson "did not make a
definitive movement toward the entrance and did not pose an immediate
threat to hospital personnel," according to a court records.
The city agreed last month to pay $185,000 and settle a wrongful
death lawsuit over the shooting, said Carol Watson, the lawyer for Hobson's
survivors.
Ernesto Aurelio, 29 / Feb. 14, 1994
In incidents in which police confront someone armed with a knife, the
distance from potential victims is key in determining whether an armed
suspect poses an immediate threat. But in gun cases, the importance of
distance almost disappears. Deadly force is frequently the only option for
officers confronted by a person with a gun.
Of the 37 shootings of mentally ill or unstable people, 13 involved
people with guns.
Judging from the chiefs' reports to police commissioners, almost all
of the incidents appeared to require that officers use deadly force.
But in Aurelio's case, records and a home video found by The Times
provide evidence that the officer shot prematurely.
Aurelio was suffering drug-induced paranoia and delusions. For much
of the night, he had wandered in his San Pedro apartment with a gun,
talking of hearing voices, seeing people in a tree outside and imagining
someone trying to kill him, said his parents, Frank and Frances Aurelio.
The next morning, they took the advice of Aurelio's former drug
rehabilitation center and called police. When officers arrived, Aurelio
locked himself in the house alone.
Early in the standoff, police tried a risky ploy. When Aurelio came
out on the porch unarmed, they tried to tackle him. Aurelio escaped back
inside and police tried to kick the door open, but failed.
Those actions violated a fundamental guideline for dealing with
people in a mental crisis, especially those suffering paranoia, police
mental health experts say.
"Do not rush the person," reads a training guide by the
Washington-based Police Executive Research Forum, a national group of
police administrators of which Chief Parks is a member. "Any attempt to
force an issue may quickly backfire in the form of violence."
Shortly after the police rush failed, Aurelio got his gun.
After locking himself inside the apartment for about two hours,
Aurelio came out onto the porch with the gun. Nine minutes later, he was
dead.
Officer John Girard, 47, a 23-year veteran, said he shot because
Aurelio had pointed the gun several times at officers and was growing more
hostile. Girard said Aurelio was counting down from six and he feared
Aurelio would lower the gun and shoot when he reached one.
In his report to police commissioners, Chief Williams said he was
"pleased with the officers' " tactics, that Aurelio posed an immediate
threat and that the shooting adhered to policy.
But a video shot by neighbors Bruce and Shari Semione shows Aurelio
standing in his pajamas, barefoot and bare-chested, lazily pointing the gun
upward, with the barrel close to his own head.
Several times, he counted down from six to one but never fired,
undercutting Girard's argument that Aurelio would shoot after such a count.
Aurelio already had pointed his gun at officers twice, but neither
instance prompted police to shoot. The officers were behind cover and
neighbors had been evacuated, witnesses and news accounts at the time said.
The chief's report said that Aurelio had not stepped far enough out
onto the porch to give Girard a clear shot. But the video shows Aurelio
moving to the porch edge several times, before and after he pointed his gun
at officers, yet no one fired.
After eight minutes, Aurelio moved to the porch edge one last time
and faced in Girard's direction.
Again, the chief's report differed from what was on the video. It
said Aurelio moved further out on the porch, held his gun in a "ready
position," and looked "around in an attempt to search for possible targets
to shoot at."
But in the video, Aurelio stands casually and holds the pistol in his
right hand, arm bent at the elbow and resting on his other arm draped
across his stomach. Instead of pointing at officers, Aurelio again was
holding the gun barrel upward and close to his face.
A Special Weapons and Tactics crisis negotiator had arrived but had
not yet become engaged.
A full minute elapsed. Then, in one jarring second, Officer Girard
fired his shotgun. Aurelio crumpled to the porch, dropping the gun. Police
swarmed and yanked his limp body down the steps, his face slamming against
the concrete.
"He was taken into custody without further incident," the chief's
report said.
Joe Joshua, 76 / Oct. 10, 1998
Although those earlier shootings happened during Chief Williams'
tenure, the pattern of reliance on force and questionable investigations
has continued since Parks assumed command in 1997.
Joshua, a street person with a history of mental problems, died
facing a handful of police officers, one of whom shot him while another was
retrieving a shotgun that fires nonlethal beanbags.
Joshua was a familiar, sometimes difficult, character in the South
Los Angeles neighborhood, where he rode his bicycle and sold bus tokens. He
carried a knife sheathed in his waistband for protection, a common practice
among street people.
He was pushing his bike on Vermont Avenue, about to cross Manchester
Avenue. Police had blocked the crossing to check a possible bank robbery,
and when they refused to let Joshua cross, he argued and began shouting
obscenities.
Eventually, Joshua displayed the knife. According to the chief's
report, Joshua said, "I'm God. . . . I'll kill you."
One officer went to get the beanbag shotgun from his car. But before
he returned, the report said, Joshua "advanced toward" police, and Officer
Brian Preston shot him.
As in the Hobson and Aurelio cases, police appeared to make critical
mistakes.
From the moment Joshua claimed to be God, police should have
recognized that such delusions are classic signs of mental illness,
according to the research forum's law enforcement training guide. The guide
also says officers should never shout or give rapid orders in such
situations, because it easily upsets the person and adds to the tension.
Not only did the officers shout at Joshua, they confused him, said
witness Kenneth Maxie, 47, a truck driver for the Los Angeles Unified
School District.
"One was telling him to drop the knife; the other was telling him to
back up; the other one was telling him to turn around," Maxie said. "He was
bewildered, but defiant. I could see it in his face."
Although Parks ruled the shooting was proper based on at least one
civilian witness and police statements, he said a single officer should
have been designated to give orders to Joshua.
At least 18 civilian witnesses said Joshua was standing still or, at
most, took only one or two steps. Although their versions contained
differences in some details, they said Joshua did not point the knife at
officers and threaten them with it.
Six of those witnesses, located by The Times, including one
identified and quoted in news articles on the shooting, were not
interviewed by police. All said Joshua did not charge or threaten the
officers.
Maxie, the truck driver, said he made a concerted effort to help
police, but was rebuffed. Maxie said he first approached an officer at the
scene, and later made a special trip to the police station, but could not
get anyone to interview him. He then complained at the office of City
Councilman Mark Ridley-Thomas, which, Maxie said, prompted a call from a
detective who left a message on his answering machine. But Maxie said the
detective never responded to his return of the call.
The chief's report to the police commission gave no hint of the
extent to which civilian witnesses disagreed with the police version.
Darryl Hood, 40 / Nov. 15, 1997
In another shooting, investigators not only missed key witnesses, but
also appeared to coach or guide officers in interviews to get answers,
which eventually produced a consistent police version.
Hood, a well-known figure at the Jordan Downs housing project in
Watts, was despondent after he and his wife argued over his refusal to get
help for his mental illness, court records said.
Hood, known as "Chubby," began stabbing himself in the head and chest
with two knives. Clarence Casey, a Jordan Downs security guard and longtime
friend, said Hood was considering surrendering the knives to him, when
Officers Miguel Perez and Berzon Distor arrived and scared Hood off.
Officers rejected Casey's offers to help.
They drew their pistols and started yelling at Hood to drop his
knife. Hood didn't respond, Parks' report to the police commission said.
Instead, the report said, Hood repeatedly told the officers to kill
him as he charged at Perez, coming within five or six feet of the officer,
forcing him to shoot.
Twice wounded by bullets, Hood ran to an adjacent ball field, where
more officers joined Perez and Distor and formed a semicircle to contain
the disturbed man against a wall while awaiting the arrival of a stun gun
and beanbag shotgun.
But the officer arrived with a stun gun that did not work; the
batteries were not adequately charged, a confidential departmental
investigative report said.
In any case, Hood "charged," and two officers shot him seven times,
the chief's report said. The shooting sparked such strong protests that the
LAPD called in officers dressed in riot gear.
The chief's report said the shooting was justified, but ordered
training for some officers because several tactical mistakes occurred,
including having more than one officer shouting orders at Hood and failing
to keep a safe distance from him. The report, however, never mentioned the
faulty stun gun.
The Times found six witnesses who say police never interviewed them.
All agreed that Hood never charged the officers. Two others interviewed by
the police also disputed the official version.
Detectives misrepresented statements, led witnesses to provide
certain answers and gave officers involved several chances to be alone,
allowing them time to coordinate stories, according to interviews, internal
departmental documents and court records.
The official report's summary of Distor's tape-recorded
statement--taken by Det. J.W. Parker--changed the officer's statement so
that it magnified the danger to be consistent with the official version.
The summary said: "Hood, still holding the knives in each hand with
the point of the blades directed at several officers, quickly stepped west
toward the officers. As Hood came within approximately eight to 10 feet of
officers, Officer Distor heard several rounds fired."
Distor actually said on the tape: "The suspect took a step forward in
a threatening manner with the knives."
Investigators also failed to separate the involved officers after the
shooting, a standard practice in homicide cases.
"That gives the officers a chance to get their stories straight,"
said V. James DeSimone, a lawyer for Hood's relatives, who are suing the
LAPD.
Court records show the officers were allowed to ride together back to
the 77th Street police station. There, they were allowed to sit together,
alone. Then they rode together back to the scene of the shooting to do a
walk-through with investigating detectives, officers said in depositions.
Pomeroy declined to comment, citing pending litigation, but said
that, in general, when "riotous conditions" exist it may be difficult to
separate the officers at the scene.
Finally, the officers were taken back to the station, where
detectives from the LAPD's officer-involved shooting unit turned on the
recorders for formal interviews that would create the official record.
The detectives' questions indicated they were trying to get the
officers to agree on the same story. Many questions recite a part of the
sequence and ask the officer for a "yes" or "no" answer.
For example, Det. Parker led Distor through a sequence before the
incident shifted to the athletic field.
Question: "Is there a point when the suspect stops and redeploys
south?" Answer: "Yes."
Question: "Is there a particular time where the suspect continues
south, across toward an athletic field?" Answer: "Yes."
Question: "And do you and your partner proceed south in his
direction?" Answer: "Yes."
Pomeroy said detectives sometimes ask such questions if an officer's
answers contradict something he said in a "preliminary interview." He said
that preliminary interviews and "walk-throughs" are not recorded.
Larry Friedman, 29 / Oct. 8, 1994
His shooting cost the city $3.25 million in a civil settlement.
It wrecked the chances of Friedman, who is autistic and has the
mental capacity of a 9-year-old, to obtain a semi-independent life. Now, he
is wheelchair-bound, paralyzed from the chest down and totally dependent on
others, said his lawyer, Gary Casselman.
Friedman was living with five other developmentally disabled men at a
home in the Northridge area at the time he was shot by police. Officers
Kelly Stallings and Sean Williams, responding to a domestic disturbance
call at the home, were advised about the residents' disabilities.
As the officers stood outside, Friedman, who walked with a limp,
emerged from the house with a kitchen knife saying, "I'll kill you," the
chief's report said.
Stallings said she tried to retreat. But Friedman advanced too fast
and she had to shoot when he got within eight to 10 feet of her, the
officers said.
The home's caregivers, Lila Rodriguez and Victor Prescott, said
Friedman did not charge Stallings, threaten to kill her or get close to
her. Rodriguez said she pleaded with Stallings to let them disarm Friedman
because they knew how to deal with him when he "acted out."
She said Friedman became totally confused as the officers yelled at
him to drop the knife.
Friedman's brother, Alon, said his brother has problems processing
information, so that people frequently have to repeat comments several
times before he understands.
"The worst thing you can do is scream at him," he said.
The department ruled the shooting justified because Friedman posed an
immediate threat to Stallings. Chief Parks, however, said in his report
that the two officers should have considered using a nonlethal weapon.
Confidential police reports, court records and interviews raise
questions about the investigation: Prescott said in a sworn deposition
that, contrary to the police summary of his statement, he did not tell
investigators that Friedman advanced on Stallings. Nor did he say that
Friedman got within eight feet of her. He said his estimate was 15-30 feet.
Detectives' summaries of interviews with Rodriguez and Prescott show
they did not ask the witnesses to pinpoint where the officers stood during
the encounter. A precise measurement of the distance from the suspect is
crucial to determining whether Friedman posed an immediate threat.
Instead, the detectives probing the shooting asked the two witnesses
to estimate the distance. Although Rodriguez said she warned she couldn't
give a reasonable estimate, the detectives insisted. She suggested 15 feet.
In contrast, when a lawyer for the officers interviewed the
caregivers, they clarified their estimates by placing Stallings and
Friedman at specific places. The distance between them was 39 feet, about
four times the officers' estimates and almost three times that of the
caregivers.
The Friedman case is bound to others by a common thread: The
officers' accounts of the incident are consistent, but usually different
from versions offered by civilians.
And the chiefs' final reports to police commissioners invariably
accepted the officers' versions.
* * *
Next: Training in handling the mentally ill is lacking.
* * *
Fatal Shootings, Questionable Tactics
These are the 12 fatal shootings of mentally disturbed persons
examined by The Times in which actions by LAPD officers contributed to the
outcome, based on records and interviews.
* Ernesto Aurelio, 29, killed Feb. 14, 1994, on the porch of his
South Leland Avenue apartment in San Pedro.
* Lenko D. Gracin, 22, killed July 31, 1994, while on foot near the
intersection of 7th Street and Harbor Boulevard in San Pedro.
* Arnaldo Carbajal, 34, killed May 9, 1995, in his home on West 46th
Street in South Los Angeles.
* Robert J. Cooper, killed Sept. 28, 1995, in the driveway of a house
on East 90th Street in South Los Angeles.
* Jeffrey Hobson, 35, killed March 29, 1996, while standing in the
parking area of th Daniel Freeman Medical Center in Inglewood.
* Ronald S. Carroll, killed June 22, 1996, on his porch on Bessemer
Street in Van Nuys.
* Jonathan Horst, 33, killed March 27, 1997, while in his car on a
pier in San Pedro.
* Michael Cramer, 37, killed June 20, 1997, at a halfway house for
the mentally ill on North Oxford Avenue in Hollywood.
* Darryl Hood, 40, killed Nov. 15, 1997, on the athletic field of the
Jordan Downs housing projects in Watts.
* Joe Joshua, 76, killed Oct. 10, 1998, on the sidewalk at the corner
of Manchester and Vermont avenues in South Los Angeles.
* Gus Henry Woods, 56, killed March 2, 1999, on the street in his
Canoga Park neighborhood.
* Margaret Mitchell, 55, killed May 21, 1999, on the sidewalk near
the corner of 4th Street and La Brea Avenue near Hancock Park.
END FORWARD
**In accordance with Title 17 U.S.C. section 107, this material is
distributed without charge or profit to those who have expressed a prior
interest in receiving this type of information for non-profit research and
educational purposes only.**
*******************************************************
HOMELESS PEOPLE'S NETWORK <http://aspin.asu.edu/hpn>
6,000+ POSTS by or via homeless & ex-homeless people
Nothing About Us Without Us - Democratize Public Policy
*******************************************************