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 lolita.harper@latimes.com.