Air Inferiority

posted: November 1, 2007 4:31 EST

Is “Run!” the new strategy against firestorms on California's urban fringe?

By Patrick Range McDonald, Christine Pelisek and Jill Stewart, LA Weekly

LAST WEEK, AS NEARLY ONE-QUARTER of California’s length blazed, the state’s residents were treated to an eerie replay of the October 2003 firestorm that wiped out 3,631 homes and killed 24. From the self-congratulations of big pols to finger pointing over a lack of air support, one of the most troubling aspects of the tragedy — despite the claims of Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger — was how little government has changed in response to the lessons of 2003.

With 1,155 homes in cinders on October 24, a cheery Schwarzenegger had gathered with politicians to let Californians know that, “Everything has been, so far, going really well.” In fact, much was not going well. Although communication between agencies appeared to be going more smoothly than during the mishandled Cedar Fire disaster, and lives had clearly been saved by a reverse-911 evacuation system, a political blaze was getting under way.

The New York Times reported the feds had accused Cal Fire, the state’s Department of Forestry and Fire Protection, of failing in the first critical days to seek federal firefighters and air tankers. Furious San Diego Congressman Duncan Hunter sparred with Cal Fire Chief Ruben Grijalva over the state’s view that “fire spotters” had to accompany military aircraft, and hours passed before the feud was resolved. In Orange County, Fire Chief Chip Prather bitterly pointed to a lack of air support, state Assemblyman Todd Spitzer accused a blue-ribbon commission of punting rather than building up the air fleet, and Congressman Dana Rohrabacher went on KNX News Radio to accuse the Department of Defense of dawdling on adapting C-130 aircraft for fire-fighting.

Yet all week, powerful politicos downplayed the need for more aircraft, including the governor himself. Christine Kehoe of San Diego, the Legislature’s point woman on wildfire response, insisted that a dramatic buildup in air support was not the post-2003 answer to saving vast tracts of wildland-adjacent housing, and accused some critics of “grandstanding.”

“We are spending as much as we possibly can on aircraft,” Kehoe insisted to the L.A. Weekly . Schwarzenegger went even further, complaining, “For someone to complain about aircraft not being available, I think is ridiculous.”

Schwarzenegger, Cal Fire bureaucrats and pilots and many politicians insisted the culprit was not equipment shortages, but the wind. In interview after interview, officials said the Santa Ana winds were often too stiff to use available aircraft, even during the critical “initial attack” phase in which tankers and helicopters can drench fires while the slower-moving ground crews and fire engines race in to respond.

Tension over the issue was extreme.

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» categories: Christine Pelisek | Environment | Patrick Range McDonald

The Case of the Dogged Detectives

posted: October 18, 2007 4:02 EST

Two hard-boiled murder investigators get their man — a fellow cop — 16 years later.

By Christine Pelisek, LA Weekly

For Frank Salerno and Louie Danoff, two hard-boiled detectives working out of the Hall of Justice downtown, the last thing they needed was a complicated case. It was 1991, and the murder rate was skyrocketing to historic highs, with 2,054 homicides in Los Angeles County that year alone. Salerno, a veteran homicide dick who caught plenty of high-profile cases, like the Hillside Strangler, the Night Stalker and the strange drowning of Natalie Wood, was ready to retire early due to high blood pressure. His partner, Louie Danoff, was another toughie as the clue manager on the Hillside Strangler and Night Stalker task forces, and a seasoned gang-homicide detective.

At 50, Danoff, nicknamed “Louie the Hat” because of his love for fedoras, was already a classic burnout case with barely a life outside the job. “I was losing my identity,” says the now-66-year-old Danoff, looking like an older and crankier version of Kojak, even with his mustache and glasses. “I reached the point that I was spinning. I’m working, but I can’t complete anything. I don’t know if I can walk away from this job. I’m going to work myself to death. I’m not getting any satisfaction out of it.”

And so the partners, both Los Angeles County Sheriff’s deputies, weren’t necessarily looking forward to the case dealt them 16 years ago — a “no body” case, by far the most difficult in which to get a conviction, or even a resolution. In the spring of 1991, he and Salerno were handed a puzzler: the disappearance three weeks earlier of Ann Racz, a churchgoer and devoted 42-year-old mother who vanished on April 22 after heading to McDonald’s to pick up a snack for her children. She had solid ties to her Valencia community; her friends and family were baffled. Yet her newly estranged husband, John, claimed she had gone on a vacation.

“I thought I was ready,” says Danoff, biting into a beef burrito at Ordonez Mexican Food Restaurant in Montebello one recent day. But instead, after he and Salerno dug into the case, “I start panicking. I told Frank, and he said, ‘Louie, this will be all right.’ All this shit was hitting me at once.”

It wasn’t merely that they had no body. In addition, there was no physical evidence and no witnesses to suggest that Racz (pronounced “Race”) was a victim of foul play.

Family and friends insisted Ann wouldn’t walk away from her children, ages 7, 11 and 14. But there was an even more complicated and unwelcome twist: Her husband, John Racz, now 61, whom the two detectives immediately liked as the main suspect, was one of their own — an ex–Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department sergeant. The wily former deputy played a cat-and-mouse game in a saga spanning 16 years, during which the detectives conducted more than 50 interviews, filled 30 notepads, issued five search warrants, and even used several psychics to find Ann Racz’s body. The case outlasted both detectives, who retired and turned the investigation over to two younger women, who became the “closers.”

“This case was more to me than just a case,” says the gruff Danoff. “It was a recovery and at the same time it was a dagger in the back. It was totally stressful. It has been a really hot-and-cold thing.”

But while it nearly did Danoff in, Ann Racz got justice last month when John Racz was convicted for her cold-blooded slaying and sentenced to a hefty 25 years to life in prison. Ann’s sister, Emiko Ryan, who endured so many pitfalls, stalls and dead ends during the investigation, can barely describe her relief: “I was worried that nothing was going to happen.” Certain that John Racz was Ann’s killer, Ryan says, “We were convinced, and we knew that Louie Danoff was convinced, so we just couldn’t let this go. It was the least I could do for her.”

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» categories: Christine Pelisek | Murder

Former Deputy Gets Life in Prison

posted: September 24, 2007 1:39 EST

John Racz insists his missing wife was on a 16-year vacation.

By Christine Pelisek, LA Weekly

A SAN FERNANDO SUPERIOR COURT judge has sentenced a former Sheriff’s sergeant and elementary school teacher to 25 years to life in prison for the 1991 murder of his estranged wife. A stunned John Racz, 61, who did not testify during the two-month trial, spoke briefly to Judge Ronald Coen and a packed courtroom that included his three adult children and the detectives who pursued him in a saga that spanned 16 years.

“I did not kill my wife,” he proclaimed on September 14 in front of the judge and members of the jury who returned to hear the sentence. Racz, who was wearing a Los Angeles County orange jail jumpsuit, claimed that his wife “left on her own.”

The case was unusual in many ways. It pitted Racz against his former Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department peers. Homicide detectives never found a body, physical evidence or witnesses to prove that the vanished woman, Ann Racz, was murdered. The trial, which concluded last month with a first-degree murder conviction, was based solely on circumstantial evidence and the testimony of dozens of family members, friends — and a pastor who testified that he saw scratches on Racz’s face after his wife’s April 22, 1991, disappearance.

It was a tale of betrayal, anger, greed and cunning. Ann Racz was a regular churchgoer and devoted 42-year-old mother who had solid ties to her Valencia community. She vanished during a quick trip alone to McDonald’s. Her friends and family were baffled, but her husband claimed she had gone on a surprise vacation. Family and friends were adamant that Ann wouldn’t walk away from her children — ages 7, 11 and 14.

Detectives soon found out that Ann Racz was about to leave her ex-cop husband, and that she had served him with divorce papers three days before she disappeared. She had recently moved into a condo with her kids, and a divorce hearing was set for May, the month after she went missing.

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» categories: Christine Pelisek | Murder

Collateral Damage

posted: June 13, 2007 8:00 EST

By Christine Pelisek, LA Weekly

Thirteen years later, Mark Fuhrman is haunted by one that got away. Was justice in the Dawn Gamez murder case another casualty of the O.J. Simpson debacle?

It's a crisp, late-November afternoon in Sandpoint, Idaho. The streets are still wet from the previous night's drizzle and it looks like it might snow. Mark Fuhrman is walking me down Cedar Street, on the way to Eichardt's Pub, a popular local hangout. You remember Fuhrman for the notoriety he gained as one of the first detectives on the scene in the O.J. Simpson double-murder case, the cop accused by Simpson's legal Dream Team of being a racist, planting evidence and cooking the case. In his new life in lily-white Northern Idaho, he's just another townie, though maybe a little more famous than others as the author of numerous books, the host of a local radio show, and a contributing analyst with Fox News Channel.

"By the way, do you see all the Nazis walking down the street?" says Mark Fuhrman, who still walks with a cop's rigid, upright bearing. The question is meant to be rhetorical, a play on this area's reputation as a bastion of white-power groups and wacky militias. Still, even though there are no swastikas on display so far, there is a small chance we could stumble upon a member of the Aryan Brotherhood, whose headquarters are in Hayden Lake, just 40 miles away.

Instead of neo-Nazis, the city center is filled with boutiques, art galleries, ski shops, cafés and pubs — though most are closed because it's Sunday. A few stragglers meander in and out of Eichardt's, where a sign above its doorway reads, "Circus Here Today," and pub T-shirts boast of "Putting the fun back in dysfunctional."

"Every once in a while, I come here and hang on a night, listen to a band and eat the fries," says Fuhrman as we stroll into the mellow joint, whose vibe is small town–meets–après ski, with a touch of British pub. He is dressed casually in Levi's jeans and a T-shirt tucked into his pants.

We choose a table against the back wall, and Fuhrman makes a point of nabbing the seat that faces the entrance. The ex-cop likes to know "who is coming and going." His eyes scan the perimeter, stopping briefly on the two men sitting at opposite ends of the bar seemingly fixated on their microbrews and the colorful collection of Simpsons and Peanuts Pez dispensers on display.

Fittingly, the beers on tap have names like Moose Drool Ale and Devil Dog Ale. Daniel Boone could really sink his teeth into the fare here — buffalo and elk, ground into burgers and stews, and fresh fish, blackened and served on a bun or in salads. Fuhrman picks the Cajun buffalo burger with a blue-cheese crumble, and the much-ballyhooed fries, which are topped with garlic chunks piled nearly as high as the nearby Schweitzer Mountains.

Sandpoint is a picturesque town of 7,000 near Lake Pend Oreille, which hosts the yearly fishing derby, and coughed up from its depths a world-record rainbow trout in 1947. Its environs offer world-class skiing, hunting (hunters are allowed to kill bears and cougars, and with crossbows!) and, of course, fishing. Local entertainers have names like Truck Mills, and the standard attire for local men and women is pretty much the same — a baseball cap, a pair of Levi's, and a baggy T-shirt decorated with a fisherman slogan. Sandpoint's population is 94.6 percent white. The economy used to be fueled by the timber industry. Now the tourism industry has taken hold, and land prices have skyrocketed — though $300K can still get you a nice home on the lake.

It's far, far away from the gritty streets of Los Angeles, and Fuhrman couldn't be happier. His celebrity status is minimal — no one's rushing to get his autograph or kick him in the shins. He just fits in. It could be because he stays low-key, and doesn't parade around town in an expensive Humvee like our governor, Arnold Schwarzenegger, who owns a place nearby. He also refused to get involved in the town's one murder last year. "I don't shit in my backyard," he says matter-of-factly.

Although Fuhrman has been in self-imposed exile from Los Angeles for more than a decade, he still has never fully escaped the collateral damage of June 12, 1994 — the night that Simpson's ex-wife, Nicole Brown, and her friend Ron Goldman were brutally stabbed to death outside her home on Bundy Drive in Brentwood. Recalling that period is no rosy walk down memory lane for Fuhrman. When the double homicide went down, Fuhrman was in bed after returning early from a conference in Palm Springs. His boss, Homicide Supervisor Ron Phillips, was surprised to find him at home and asked him to help with the investigation.

"I wasn't on call," Fuhrman says. "I didn't have to go, but I did. Dumb me. It would have been a life." His decision to heed the call that day would ultimately damage his reputation, undermine the credibility of the LAPD and the District Attorney's Office, racially divide a nation, and, Fuhrman believes, change the course of yet another murder investigation that he was handling at the time. The victim in that case was a 24-year-old hippie named Dawn Gamez who was suffering with HIV. Gamez was shot in the head on April 6, 1994, two months before Brown and Goldman were slain. Her 25-year-old husband, Herman Gould, the son of a well-to-do psychiatrist and Beverly Hills socialite mother, was charged with her killing, but later let go.

Fuhrman still smarts over the district attorney's decision to drop the case against Gould. He says that Gould walked because of the beating Fuhrman's reputation took during the O.J. circus. When Fuhrman arguably became the most distrusted cop and most notorious lightning rod in America.

"Nothing changed from the time Gould went to court to the time [charges against him] were dismissed, except for my involvement in the Simpson case," he says. "It is just too much trouble to have me exposed in another case that wasn't worth it. I think it is a case that should have been put before a jury."

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Death Penalty for an L.A. Serial Killer

posted: May 20, 2007 1:39 EST

By Christine Pelisek, LA Weekly

In a downtown courtroom packed with journalists, law enforcement and family members of victims, jurors recommended death for 40-year-old Chester Turner — a man prosecutors called one of Los Angeles' most prolific serial killers.

"Knowing that he has been caught and punished and that phase is over, we can now exhale," said a shaken Jerri Johnson, whose 28-year-old daughter Andrea Tripplett was raped and murdered by Turner in the spring of 1993. Johnson was one of two relatives in court for the mid-morning verdict. "He will never be around to do anything to anyone else again, and thank God for the modern technology that helped convict him."

The six-man, six-woman Los Angeles Superior Court panel deliberated for about two-and-a-half days before delivering the death penalty decision.

During sentencing, Turner, an often-unemployed father of four with a history of violent relationships, was flanked by sheriff's deputies and remained calm. As he walked out after the verdict, Johnson said that Turner seemed unfazed: "He walked out with his little be-bop walk and that was it," she said, adding, "He thinks he is still cool, walking around in the 'hood. He won't get to wear that blue shirt and beige pants again."

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» categories: Christine Pelisek | Executions