A confession 20 years too late

A confession 20 years too late.

20 years ago I was a student at University of Southern California and studied Aerospace Engineering. I was there during the LA Riots, and me and best friend at that time a Korean American went riding around during the riots because that is such a smart and sensitive thing to do. There are a lot of stories I could share about those days. But those were charged and clouded days.

I want to share a normal day, before the riots.

One day I was coming out of an engineering class near Olin Hall, and I saw my simple 50cc Yamaha Scooter in the process of being stolen. They were 3 African American teenagers pulling out the ignition system trying to hotwire it. I was about 200 feet away and walking with my friends when I saw this. I was shocked. I stood still. Then I handed my backpack to my friends and I ran at these kids as fast as I could from 200 feet away.

I remember them looking up at me. They were puzzled about my plan. They looked at each other and shrugged, and then ran away way before I could get to my scooter. My scooter was a mess, it was a sad machine with its guts spilled out. I felt violated and I felt anger about my companion - my scooter - being assaulted. But the kids were gone - long gone and there was nothing I could do about it.

I walked my wounded scooter off campus, then the next day I arranged for a friend with a pickup truck to help me take it to get repaired and I think it cost me $250 to fix it. Fuck. I kept replaying in my mind what an idiot I was to ever run after these kids from so far away. I might as well have yelled at them and gave them a heads up I was coming. I played back action movie alternatives in my head. I thought to myself if this ever happens again I have a plan…

Well, life is crazy. One year later I was leaving class and walking about the same route with my girlfriend at the time. Sure enough at the same spot a group of African American kids were in the process of stealing someone else’s scooter.

This time I Was Ready(™). I got this. I practiced in my mind at least a dozen times. So this time I pretended like I didn’t see them, and guided my girlfriend to walk obliquely with me at an angle where they could actively see me, and yet we would come quite close to them.

When I was about 30 feet away and around a corner of a the large Olin Hall, without any notice to my girlfriend, I pivoted and sprinted full speed at these kids.

Bam! I surprised them. I grabbed one and put him in a bear hug from behind. Citizens Arrest! Woot!

The other two kids started to run, took three steps and stopped and turned back to me.

“Why did you grab him?” they asked.

“Because he was the fat one. And I was not sure I could catch either of you.” I replied.

They listened, looked at each other, then said “Alright.” and then they took off.

Now I had a fat kid in a bear hug. He was whimpering.

I started to march off to the USC security with him in my arms.

“Man, please don’t do this. I have already been busted 2 times for stealing shit. This will be the third time! I can’t do this. Please!” he cried to me.

I clenched my jaw and certain that I was on the side of all that is righteous I told him, “Too fucking bad. Don’t steal shit.”

As we were walking he tried to break free by kicking my shins. Once he connected pretty good and rather than let him go, I went ahead and allowed us to both fall to the ground forward. He was my cushion and so he connected with the ground forehead first.

He got hurt with a bump on his head, but no great injury, and he was subdued after that. I felt like I did the right thing. We continued our awkward march dance towards the security office.

I only made it about 50 feet more when a USC cop car was cruising by at the nearest cross street and spotted us.

The cop car over shot the intersection, then stomped on reverse with the wheels screeching.

Then he turned up towards us and gunned it. Then he had to stomp on the brakes as he was coming up on us.

It was a K-9 car.

The cop in one fluid motion pulled up, opened his door, pulled out his semi automatic handgun pointed it at the boys head (my head was not too far away) and ran towards us.

I was frozen with this fat, crying 13 year-old boy in my arms.

As the cop ran up with his gun pointed at the boys head he reached out and grabbed the boy.

With a grip on his collar bone he ripped the boy out of my hands and then slammed up *hard* against the brick wall of Olin Hall. His head connected with the wall. That was bone on stone.

Then the cop turned to me, “ Whaddya da fuck did he do?”

I told him that I caught him stealing a scooter along with some other kids right around the corner. But I could only catch one kid.

The cop looked at me for the first time, looked at the boy. Looked back at his cop car and at the german shepherd snarling and barking and aching for action.

The cop said, “Stay the fuck here. Don’t fucking move. Fucking move and I will blow your head off. See my partner there? If I miss, he will *eat* you. Do you hear me nigger?”

The boy pissed himself in agreement.

I just stood there. My face was blank. I was afraid.

The cop kept his gun pointed at the head of the boy and carefully peered around the corner to see the attempted theft of a scooter.

The boy did not move, other than to shiver and cry.

The dog kept on barking.

I stood there.

“You can go now sir.” The cop told me.

I walked away.

Originally posted on Facebook on August 28, 2014.