Empire Liquor Market Deli in South Central Los Angeles in May 1992. (Al Seib / Los Angeles Times )
The Contested Murder of Latasha Harlins
Justice, Gender, and the Origins of the L.A. Riots
Oxford University Press: 432 pp., $29.95
Two decades before George Zimmerman spotted a young man in a hoodie walking through a Florida subdivision, another case involving the shooting of an African American teenager roiled Southern California and exposed racial divisions.
Latasha Harlins was 15 when she entered the Empire Liquor Market on South Figueroa in Compton in 1991. She had two dollar bills in her hand to pay for a bottle of orange juice, but when store owner Soon Ja Du saw her put that juice into a backpack, Du assumed Harlins was shoplifting.
For The Record
Los Angeles Times Tuesday, August 06, 2013 Home Edition Main News Part A Page 4 News Desk 1 inches; 33 words Type of Material: Correction
Latasha Harlins: A review of the book "The Contested Murder of Latasha Harlins" in the Aug. 4 Arts & Books section said that then-15-year-old Harlins attended Westminster High School; she attended Westchester High.
For The Record
Los Angeles Times Sunday, August 11, 2013 Home Edition Sunday Calendar Part D Page 2 Calendar Desk 1 inches; 46 words Type of Material: Correction
Latasha Harlins: An Aug. 4 review of the book "The Contested Murder of Latasha Harlins" said that then-15-year-old Harlins attended Westminster High School; she attended Westchester High. Also, the book and review incorrectly said that the Empire Liquor Market is in Compton; it's in Los Angeles.
The fisticuffs and the shooting that followed are now at the center of an excellent and methodically researched new history by UCLA scholar Brenda Stevenson, "The Contested Murder of Latasha Harlins: Justice, Gender, and the Origins of the L.A. Riots."
Early in her book, Stevenson offers this concise and compelling description of the young woman who entered Du's liquor store that fateful Saturday: Harlins was "a girl at heart, with the body of a young woman and an edgy attitude, she was a complex blend of naivete and maturity, strength and vulnerability ... anger and heartbreak all wrapped up in a facade of quiet street savvy."
The Zimmerman trial, of course, featured a similarly complex and ultimately unknowable dead teenager. Watching the coverage of that trial, one longed for storytelling with the kind of perspective and compassion that Stevenson displays in pulling apart the events that ended with Du, a Korean immigrant, shooting Harlins in the back of the head.
There are no villains in "The Contested Murder." There is just history of the complicated and messy variety that Americans seem to specialize in creating, involving painful issues of race and social class.
Eight months after shooting Harlins, Du went to trial. She claimed self-defense, but a jury found her guilty of manslaughter. Du faced a possible 16-year prison term, but rookie judge Joyce Karlin sentenced her to probation and a suspended prison term. As several media outlets pointed out, Du's jail time for shooting Harlins was less than the 30 days that another Korean immigrant received for shooting his dog.
African American L.A. was outraged and took to protests, chanting, "No justice, no peace." Five months later, when the LAPD officers who were videotaped beating Rodney King were acquitted, Los Angeles erupted in rioting -- with many arsonists chanting, "No justice, no peace!"
For Stevenson, these events become the vehicle for a work of deep historical introspection as she untangles the story of the generations of forbears whose striving helped shaped the three female protagonists in the case of the People vs. Du -- Harlins, Du and Karlin.
Stevenson's book takes on topics as diverse as slavery in the American South, the stultifying patriarchy of South Korea and the exodus of Jews from the Russian Empire (Karlin's great-grandparents emigrated from Kiev to the U.S.).
"Contested Murder" is an academic book. It's thoroughly footnoted and begins with the author making theoretical statements typical of such works, with Stevenson asking in her preface what role "race/ethnicity and culture, class, age or gender" or any combinations of these "variables" had on the case of the People vs. Du.
Quickly, however, Stevenson gets to the gritty work of the historian. Her portrait of the Harlinses' family roots in Alabama and East St. Louis and the family's eventual journey to Los Angeles is filled with poignant turns. Time and again, young women in the Harlins family are abandoned by the fathers of their children. We see East St. Louis burn -- its black neighborhoods set on fire by whites in 1917.
In L.A., Latasha is 9 when her mother, Crystal, is shot in a bar. In an eerie foreshadowing of the trial, Crystal's killer -- the new girlfriend of Latasha's father -- is given a light sentence. Raised by her grandmother, Latasha is at once lonely, bright and angry. She's an honor student in junior high but starts missing school when she transfers to the more middle-class Westminster High.
When Harlins enters the Empire grocery, it doesn't take much to set her off. She will never know it, but she's crossing paths with a woman who's also angry and whose family has also made an epic journey.
Like the Harlins family, the Dus story is also told by Stevenson in "Contested Murder," relying entirely on historical documents and contemporary media coverage. Her book feels as evenhanded as such a work could possibly be.
Du was a member of a rural middle-class family in Korea. Her father was her town's only doctor, and she grew up relatively privileged. But her ambitious husband brought her to California, where Du and her husband worked in garment factories and other hard jobs to save the capital to become entrepreneurs.