L.A. Noir: The Struggle for the Soul of America's Most Seductive City

Acknowledgments

THIS BOOK BEGAN five years ago, when I went to Los Angeles to report a story on LAPD chief William Bratton for Governing magazine. I had lived in Los Angeles previously and had been fascinated by its history. As a result, I was more interested in the history of the department than I might otherwise have been. I soon found myself pondering a puzzle: How did the police department of James “Two Gun” Davis and “Bloody Christmas”—the L.A. Confidential LAPD, as it were—suddenly become the Dragnet LAPD? How did a department that had answered for decades to corrupt politicians come to answer to no one? The more deeply I read, the more convinced I became that the answer was bound up in the life of Chief William H. Parker.

I knew Parker only as a name, an esteemed but controversial police chief whom criminologists associated with what they call “the professional model” of policing. To his many admirers, he was a saint and a prophet. To his many detractors, he was an “arrogant racist” who nearly destroyed the west’s greatest city. I approached him as a person. For that initial introduction, I must first thank Sgt. Steve Williams and Regina Menez of the William H. Parker Police Foundation, and Parker Foundation president Kenneth Esteves for generously opening the archive records to me. Retired LAPD officer Dennis DeNoi was an early and enthusiastic guide to their contents. After a week of reading in the archives, I was convinced that the story of Chief Parker’s LAPD was central to the history of Los Angeles and determined to write about it. My agent, Jill Kneerim, offered encouragement and wise counsel from the start. She pushed this book in all the right ways.

The Los Angeles Police Department was exceptionally supportive from the beginning. The Police Commission, the city attorney’s office, and Chief Bratton gave me access to internal departmental records from the period, making me only the second outside researcher so favored. I gratefully acknowledge their help and support. Todd Gaydowski, records management officer for the City of Los Angeles, facilitated my every request. Mary Grady, Richard Tefank, and Tamryn Catania were unfailingly helpful.

I owe a particular debt of gratitude to the first researcher given access to the LAPD’s departmental files, Arizona State University professor Edward Escobar. Professor Escobar pointed me to one of the city’s most valuable historical resources, the LAPD scrapbooks housed at the City Records Center atop the Piper Technical Center downtown. Professor Escobar also invited me into his own home for a week to review copies of LAPD files from the 1950s and 1960s that were deaccessioned by the department in 1999. His personal collection now constitutes the most complete repository of official records from this era. I greatly appreciate his hospitality and admire his trailblazing work in the history of Chicano Los Angeles.

At Piper Tech, I passed many fascinating months in the company of city archivists Jay Jones and Mike Holland, who patiently explained to me the intricacies of Police Commission and city council minutes and their associated files, while keeping me fueled with delectable home-roasted coffee. Todd Gaydowski was my guide to the LAPD’s chief of police files. Former Los Angeles archivist-turned-L.A. City Historical Society-dynamo Hynda Rudd also offered encouragement and advice. To Todd, Jay, Mike, and Hynda, my sincere thanks.

Other archives also offered valuable assistance during the course of my research. The staff of the Newberry Library in Chicago provided enthusiastic assistance working with the Ben Hecht Collection. It was my week in Chicago that convinced me that Mickey Cohen, as both a product and a leader of the underworld, was the central antagonist in Parker’s story and an essential part of the history of Los Angeles. Back in Los Angeles, UCLA’s Special Collections was a home away from home. The Joseph Shaw, Harold Story, and Norris Poulson Collections all added greatly to my understanding of midcentury Los Angeles; interacting with UCLA staff was a daily pleasure. My sincere thanks to Angela Riggio, Genie Guerard, Robert Montoya, Aislinn Catherine Sotelo, and everyone there who helped me. Six weeks at the Huntington Library exploring the papers of former mayor Fletcher Bowron made me envy academics. My thanks to Laura Stalker for making that possible. In Washington, D.C., John Martin and the staff of the Library of Congress helped me do an amazing amount of West Coast research from the East Coast.

Los Angeles Police Historical Society executive director Glynn Martin offered generous support and gentle corrections throughout. Former LAPD captain Will Gartland helped me connect with numerous veterans of Parker’s LAPD. Thank you to Arthur Sjoquist and everyone else who spoke to me. My special thanks to Joseph Parker, former chief Daryl Gates, former acting chief Bob Rock, former deputy chief Harold Sullivan, and Parker-era Police Commission members Frank Hathaway and Elbert Hudson. In Houston, Joseph and Jane Parker shared their time and reminiscences generously. Their recollections made Chief Parker come alive.

Among the pleasures afforded me by this book was the chance to return to Santa Monica. Numerous friends, old and new, welcomed my family back to our old neighborhood. Ashley Salisbury repeatedly offered her sharp editorial eye as well as her delightful company; Marc and Jessica Evans offered friendship, encouragement, and dazzling generosity in all things. Yong-nam Jun brightened many a lunch at Philippe; Eric Moses provided insights and company; Andrew Sabl and Miriam Laugesen, a home to live in. Ana Lopez and Marva Bennett took care of our family like their own. From New York, Michael Cohen offered excellent suggestions and much-appreciated support. Robin Toone spared me from several legal errors.

I owe a special debt of gratitude to my editor at Governing, Alan Ehrenhalt, and his wife, Suzanne. Thank you for your support, your excellent edits, and for giving me a job when I returned to D.C. My editor at Harmony Books, John Glusman, pushed me to find the story (and waited patiently while I did). This book is better off for it.

Finally, thank you to my family. To my parents, John and Sally, without a lifetime of support, I would never have attempted to write this book. Without your many trips to Santa Monica, I would never have succeeded. Oliver and Tom, what wonders you are.

The last paragraph goes to my wife, Melinda, who moved back to L.A. and made innumerable sacrifices over the course of five years so that I could write this book. I am profoundly grateful for your support, friendship, and love. It is to you that this book is dedicated.