Ruben Salazar

As a former colleague of Ruben Salazar in The Times' newsroom, I was dismayed that you published book reviewer Floyd Salas' hysterically false account of Rube's death ("Always Running" by Luis J. Rodriguez, March 7). He wrote that "a cop went into a bar where Ruben Salazar, the most important Mexican-American journalist of the time, was sitting and shot him in the face with a tear-gas gun--blowing his head off and silencing him forever." I hold no brief for the officers involved in that tragedy, but the fact is that they blindly and recklessly shot into the bar from outside, with no intention of hitting or silencing Salazar.

Doubts in Salazar case Re "Finally, transparency in the Ruben Salazar case," Column, Aug. 5 Although I'm grateful that the mysterious circumstances surrounding my father's death remain a matter of public interest, I must protest Hector Tobar's column. Last October, my family met with L.A. County Sheriff Lee Baca; we were allowed to view eight boxes of original material, which we worked through for several days. Later, researchers got access. We all felt that important questions were still left unresolved.

Ruben Salazar had been lying on the floor of the Silver Dollar Bar for nearly three hours when a pair of homicide detectives from the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department finally arrived to examine his body. It was Aug. 29, 1970. Night had fallen. The bar was dark and still stank of tear gas, so Dets. Donald Cannon and Conrad Alvarez donned masks and used "battle lamp" flashlights. Among the many facts in their report — the position of Salazar's body, the location of the tear-gas canister that killed him — they noted the button pinned to his jacket: "Chicano Moratorium.

Ruben Salazar had been lying on the floor of the Silver Dollar Bar for nearly three hours when a pair of homicide detectives from the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department finally arrived to examine his body. It was Aug. 29, 1970. Night had fallen. The bar was dark and still stank of tear gas, so Dets. Donald Cannon and Conrad Alvarez donned masks and used "battle lamp" flashlights. Among the many facts in their report — the position of Salazar's body, the location of the tear-gas canister that killed him — they noted the button pinned to his jacket: "Chicano Moratorium.

Raul Ruiz was sitting on a curb on Whittier Boulevard, drinking a soda after a hard day's work shooting photographs of a rally against the Vietnam War. Suddenly, a group of Los Angeles County sheriff's deputies approached the bar across the street. He snapped a few pictures and watched as the deputies fired tear-gas canisters through the bar's open front door. Then, after 15 minutes or so, the deputies made him leave. Hours later, Ruiz learned that Ruben Salazar, the best-known Mexican American journalist in L.A., had been killed inside the bar. "We've got to develop this film because I have a feeling I've got the shooting," he told his colleagues at La Raza, the magazine he helped run. In the darkroom, an image soon took form ?

In life and in death, strange things happened to Ruben Salazar. In 1966, the legendary Times reporter found himself in Bong Son, covering the evacuation of civilians during the Vietnam War. Fellow foreign correspondent Joseph E. Brown was there with him. After three days of sleeping on the ground, the exhausted reporters landed the last hotel room in town. Their slumbers were interrupted by the sound of refugee children outside. "Without hesitation," Brown recalled, Salazar told the hotel owner: "Why not put them in our room?"

Doubts in Salazar case Re "Finally, transparency in the Ruben Salazar case," Column, Aug. 5 Although I'm grateful that the mysterious circumstances surrounding my father's death remain a matter of public interest, I must protest Hector Tobar's column. Last October, my family met with L.A. County Sheriff Lee Baca; we were allowed to view eight boxes of original material, which we worked through for several days. Later, researchers got access. We all felt that important questions were still left unresolved.

The words are as angry today as they were 25 years ago when Ruben Salazar first wrote them. "A Chicano is a Mexican-American with a non-Anglo image of himself," he wrote on Feb. 6, 1970, in his Times column. "He resents being told Columbus 'discovered' America when the Chicano's ancestors, the Mayans and the Aztecs, founded highly sophisticated civilizations centuries before Spain financed the Italian explorer's trip to the 'New World.'

As officials formally released a report Tuesday on the slaying of journalist Ruben Salazar, people who knew the newsman applauded the review but said it would not end the suspicions that have clouded the case for the last 40 years. Salazar was killed by an L.A. County Sheriff's Department deputy who fired a tear-gas projectile into a darkened bar where Salazar was taking a break from covering a riot that had broken out in East Los Angeles, said Michael Gennaco, head of the Office of Independent Review, which prepared the report.

Los Angeles County Sheriff Lee Baca said Wednesday that he would turn over thousands of pages on the slaying of former Times columnist and KMEX-TV News Director Ruben Salazar to the civilian watchdog agency that monitors the Sheriff's Department so a report can be prepared on the 40-year-old case. Baca's move comes in response to a California Public Records Act request filed by The Times in March seeking records that might shed light on Salazar's killing by a deputy after rioting exploded in East Los Angeles during the National Chicano Moratorium Against the Vietnam War. Questions and controversy continue to cloud the Aug. 29, 1970, slaying.

As officials formally released a report Tuesday on the slaying of journalist Ruben Salazar, people who knew the newsman applauded the review but said it would not end the suspicions that have clouded the case for the last 40 years. Salazar was killed by an L.A. County Sheriff's Department deputy who fired a tear-gas projectile into a darkened bar where Salazar was taking a break from covering a riot that had broken out in East Los Angeles, said Michael Gennaco, head of the Office of Independent Review, which prepared the report.

Raul Ruiz was sitting on a curb on Whittier Boulevard, drinking a soda after a hard day's work shooting photographs of a rally against the Vietnam War. Suddenly, a group of Los Angeles County sheriff's deputies approached the bar across the street. He snapped a few pictures and watched as the deputies fired tear-gas canisters through the bar's open front door. Then, after 15 minutes or so, the deputies made him leave. Hours later, Ruiz learned that Ruben Salazar, the best-known Mexican American journalist in L.A., had been killed inside the bar. "We've got to develop this film because I have a feeling I've got the shooting," he told his colleagues at La Raza, the magazine he helped run. In the darkroom, an image soon took form ?

Los Angeles County Sheriff Lee Baca told The Times on Monday that he will allow the media to review eight boxes of documents related to the slaying of journalist Ruben Salazar, a case that has been clouded by controversy and speculation for 40 years. Baca said the records, long kept from public view, will be available after the Office of Independent Review formally releases its report on Salazar's slaying Tuesday. A draft copy of that report was obtained by The Times and made public over the weekend.

If he was wearing anything but that uniform, you might not recognize him. As the sheriff of Los Angeles County, Lee Baca is, as Donald Rumsfeld would say, one of the best "known unknowns" in Southern California. And what he says may not always be recognizable as a casting director's idea of a rootin' tootin' gunslingin' Western sheriff. Baca has leveraged his badge and his law enforcement chops into topics many of his colleagues ignore: mental illness, education, homelessness, religion, and how they all affect the community that his department polices.

Los Angeles County Sheriff Lee Baca said Wednesday that he would turn over thousands of pages on the slaying of former Times columnist and KMEX-TV News Director Ruben Salazar to the civilian watchdog agency that monitors the Sheriff's Department so a report can be prepared on the 40-year-old case. Baca's move comes in response to a California Public Records Act request filed by The Times in March seeking records that might shed light on Salazar's killing by a deputy after rioting exploded in East Los Angeles during the National Chicano Moratorium Against the Vietnam War. Questions and controversy continue to cloud the Aug. 29, 1970, slaying.

In life and in death, strange things happened to Ruben Salazar. In 1966, the legendary Times reporter found himself in Bong Son, covering the evacuation of civilians during the Vietnam War. Fellow foreign correspondent Joseph E. Brown was there with him. After three days of sleeping on the ground, the exhausted reporters landed the last hotel room in town. Their slumbers were interrupted by the sound of refugee children outside. "Without hesitation," Brown recalled, Salazar told the hotel owner: "Why not put them in our room?"

More than 200 pages of documents released by the FBI this week reveal that agents investigated award-winning Times journalist Ruben Salazar on several occasions as he reported on Cuba during the Cold War, but the records shed no new light on the questionable circumstances of the newsman's 1970 slaying by a Los Angeles sheriff's deputy.

Re "Salazar, 4 others on U.S. postage," April 23 Ruben Salazar in January 1961 filed a story about the political movement to incorporate East Los Angeles, describing it as a new era of political awakening. He liked the area and its people. Regretfully, he died covering an uprising of the people of East L.A. during an antiwar demonstration. The U.S. Postal Service stamp in his honor will be a cherished memento for those of us who lived and worked in East L.A. in the 1960s. William G. Hutson Rancho Cucamonga The writer was a member of the Incorporation of East Los Angeles Committee.

Former Los Angeles Times reporter and columnist Ruben Salazar was one five distinguished journalists commemorated on a series of postage stamps issued Tuesday by the Postal Service. The series, intended to recognize journalists who broke barriers or showed great courage, features Martha Gellhorn, John Hersey, George Polk, Eric Sevareid and Salazar. First-day-issue dedication ceremonies for the 42-cent stamps were held at the National Press Club in Washington as part of the Press Club's 100th anniversary, and at the Los Angeles Times.