neighbor

Movies that depict the history of war criminals on trial will almost always be worth making and watching. These films are edifying (and cathartic) in a way that could almost be considered a public servic and that’s what works best in James Vanderbilt’s “Nuremberg,” about the international tribunal that tried the Nazi high command in the immediate wake of World War II. It’s a drama that is well-intentioned and elucidating despite some missteps.

For his second directorial effort, Vanderbilt, a journeyman writer best known for his “Zodiac” screenplay for David Fincher, adapts “The Nazi and the Psychiatrist” by Jack El-Hai, about the curious clinical relationship between Dr. Douglas Kelley, an Army psychiatrist, and former German Reichsmarschall Hermann Göring during the lead-up to the Nuremberg trials.

The film is a two-hander shared by Oscar winners: a formidable Russell Crowe as Göring and a squirrely Rami Malek as Kelley. At the end of the war, Kelley is summoned to an ad-hoc Nazi prison in Luxembourg to evaluate the Nazi commandants. Immediately, he’s intrigued at the thought of sampling so many flavors of narcissism.

It becomes clear that the doctor has his own interests in mind with this unique task as well. At one point while recording notes, in a moment of particularly on-the-nose screenwriting, Kelley verbalizes “Someone could write a book” and off he dashes to the library with his German interpreter, a baby-faced U.S. Army officer named Howie (Leo Woodall), in tow. That book would eventually be published in 1947 as “22 Cells in Nuremberg,” a warning about the possibilities of Nazism in our own country, but no one wants to believe our neighbors can be Nazis until our neighbors are Nazis.

One of the lessons of the Nuremberg trials — and of “Nuremberg” the film — is that Nazis are people too, with the lesson being that human beings are indeed capable of such horrors (the film grinds to an appropriate halt in a crucial moment to simply let the characters and the audience take in devastating concentration camp footage). Human beings, not monsters, were the architects of the Final Solution.

But human beings can also fight against this if they choose to, and the rule of law can prevail if people make the choice to uphold it. The Nuremberg trials start because Justice Robert Jackson (Michael Shannon) doesn’t let anything so inconvenient as a logistical international legal nightmare stop him from doing what’s right.

Kelley’s motivations are less altruistic. He is fascinated by these men and their pathologies, particularly the disarming Göring, and in the name of science the doctor dives headlong into a deeper relationship with his patient than he should, eventually ferrying letters back and forth between Göring and his wife and daughter, still in hiding. He finds that Göring is just a man — a megalomaniacal, arrogant and manipulative man, but just a man. That makes the genocide that he helped to plan and execute that much harder to swallow.

Crowe has a planet-sized gravitational force on screen that he lends to the outsize Göring and Shannon possesses the same weight. A climactic scene between these two actors in which Jackson cross-examines Göring is a riveting piece of courtroom drama. Malek’s energy is unsettled, his character always unpredictable. He and Crowe are interesting but unbalanced together.

Vanderbilt strives to imbue “Nuremberg” with a retro appeal that sometimes feels misplaced. John Slattery, as the colonel in charge of the prison, throws some sauce on his snappy patter that harks back to old movies from the 1940s, but the film has been color-corrected into a dull, desaturated gray. It’s a stylistic choice to give the film the essence of a faded vintage photograph, but it’s also ugly as sin.

Vanderbilt struggles to find a tone and clutters the film with extra story lines to diminishing results. Howie’s personal history (based on a true story) is deeply affecting and Woodall sells it beautifully. But then there are the underwritten female characters: a saucy journalist (Lydia Peckham) who gets Kelley drunk to draw out his secrets for a scoop, and Justice Jackson’s legal clerk (Wrenn Schmidt) who clucks and tsks her way through the trial, serving only as the person to whom Jackson can articulate his thoughts. Their names are scarcely uttered during the film and their barely-there inclusion feels almost offensive.

So while the subject matter makes “Nuremberg” worth the watch, the film itself is a mixed bag, with some towering performances (Crowe and Shannon) and some poor ones. It manages to eke out its message in the eleventh hour, but it feels too little too late in our cultural moment, despite its evergreen importance. If the film is intended to be a canary in a coal mine, that bird has long since expired.

Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

Ajike “AJ” Owens was a dedicated 35-year-old mother of four when she was shot and killed by her 58-year-old neighbor, Susan Lorincz, in June 2023. The tragedy, which rocked the otherwise peaceful, tight-knit community of Ocala, Fla., followed years of Lorincz making habitual calls to the police to report neighborhood kids, including Owens’, for playing in a vacant lot next to her home. Lorincz, who is white, claimed that the children — most of whom are Black and were under 12 — were a threat, citing one of the nation’s many “stand your ground” laws, which allow individuals to use deadly force to protect themselves if they feel their life is in danger.

Now award-winning filmmaker Geeta Gandbhir, with the support of producer-husband Nikon Kwantu and such nonfiction luminaries as Sam Pollard and Soledad O’Brien, has chronicled the two years leading up to Owens’ death in “The Perfect Neighbor,” premiering Friday on Netflix after an Oscar-qualifying theatrical run. Composed almost entirely of police body camera footage, the moving and powerful verité documentary uses the case to depict the perils of such laws, which are all too easily misused or abused in a society where not every claim of self-defense is treated equally.

A jury convicted Lorincz of manslaughter in August 2024, but the repercussions of her erratic and violent behavior continue to impact the Owens family and their neighbors. Gandbhir, whose sister-in-law was a close friend of Owens, hopes “The Perfect Neighbor” will honor Owens’ memory while showing how our nation’s growing fear of “the other” and the proliferation of “stand your ground” laws are a deadly combination.

Initially, you weren’t planning on making a film about this tragic killing, but you were documenting the aftermath of the crime. Why?

We got a call the night Ajike was killed, and we immediately jumped into action to try to help the family. We stepped in to be the media liaisons. They looked to us to try to keep the story alive in the media, just because they were worried [it would be overlooked]. This is Ocala, Fla., the heart of where “stand your ground” was born. Susan wasn’t arrested for four days because they were doing a “stand your ground” investigation. We were not thinking about making a doc, really. We were just terrified that there would be no justice.

That’s happened before …

Yes, Trayvon Martin’s case being the most notorious.

But in Ajike’s case, there’s reams of footage and audio recordings that captured what happened. How were you able to obtain so much of that material from the police department?

Anthony Thomas, who works with [civil rights attorney] Benjamin Crump, had sued the police department through the Freedom of Information Act and got them to release all of the material that they had pertaining to the case. That’s how we got the footage. What came to us was the police body camera footage, detective interviews, Ring camera footage and cellphone footage. There was also all the audio calls that Susan had made to the police, and then after the night of the [killing], the calls the community had made. There was basically a plethora of stuff that we were handed, in a jumble, and Anthony was like, “Sort this out. See if you can find anything that makes sense for the news, like snippets we can share.”

I was surprised at how much material there was, and I’m just talking about what made it into the film.

It speaks to how much Susan called the police. Basically, the body cam footage [was a result of those calls]. What’s interesting is the reaction when we screened the film for the community. They agreed to be part of this so we wanted to show them before it came out. We’re very concerned with participant care and the ethics of this. They said that they didn’t think that we had everything, because Susan [allegedly] called the police sometimes, like, 10 times a day. They [said they] think the police gave us maybe what they could organize, where they don’t look terrible. But they don’t think that that’s everything.

Ajike “AJ” Owens, pictured on the poster, was shot and killed by her neighbor in 2023. The crime is at the center of Geeta Gandbhir’s new documentary “The Perfect Neighbor.”

Ajike’s mother, Pamela Dias, has been a major force in keeping her daughter’s memory alive — and seeking justice. How did she feel about you making this film?

I went to Pamela and said I could make a movie and maybe we could make a change. It’s quite an endeavor to try to change gun laws or the “stand your ground” law, but maybe we can reach people. She said yes. This is a woman who by her own admission was blinded by grief [when Ajike was killed], who said she couldn’t see two feet in front of her. But she knew even then that her daughter’s story had to be told. She said her daughter died standing up for her kids, and she felt it was her turn to stand up.

I told her the material was graphic. But Pam was inspired by Emmett Till and how his mother had an open-casket funeral and told the photographers to take pictures because she wanted the world to know what had happened to her baby. Plus, we thought about George Floyd and [how footage of his killing] sparked a movement. It is a terrible thing to bear witness, but if we let these things continue to happen in the shadows, then they will happen forever. It’s only by bearing witness that things might change.

What about your own emotional well-being while making this film?

See all my gray hair? [Laughs.] I realized later it was grief work for me, because I needed to know what happened. I had to know what happened. I couldn’t understand how someone could pick up a gun and kill their neighbor over children playing nearby. How did we get here? So many questions were just eating me, so the work was in some ways cathartic. Then once we had it all strung out and I thought it was a film, I brought on Viridiana Lieberman, who’s our editor. We had a similar sensibility about what we wanted this to be and we really committed to living in the body camera footage.

“Body camera footage is a violent tool of the state,” Gandbhir says. “It’s often used to criminalize us, particularly people of color. It’s used to dehumanize us, to surveil us, to protect the police. What I wanted to do with this material was flip that narrative and use it to humanize this community.”

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

Why not use narration?

I worked for 12 years in narratives and scripted before I segued into documentary. I learned that the best vérité documentaries are show and not tell. If you tell people what they’re seeing, there’s some room for doubt or for your bias or some questioning around it. But to me, this footage plays like vérité. There’s no reporter on the ground. There’s no one influencing what’s happening in the neighborhood, other than the police who are coming in and asking questions. I felt that made the footage and the story undeniable. No one could say that we were down there asking provocative questions. And the body camera footage is so incredibly immersive, I wanted people to have the experience of what the community experienced.

How would you describe what they went through?

Their experience felt a bit like a horror film. You have this beautiful, diverse community living together with a strong social network, taking care of each other and each other’s kids. What was so powerful to me in the body camera footage is you really got to see this community as they were before [the tragedy], and you never get that. There’s horrible shootings all the time, and we see the aftermath, right? We see the grieving family, we see the funeral. We have to re-create what their lives were like before. And in this, you see this beautiful community thriving and living together, and that was so profound. I wanted to rebuild their world so everyone could see the damage done by one outlier with a gun. How she was the only one who was repeatedly calling the police and seeing threats where there were none.

We’re used to seeing police body cam footage used as evidence following a police brutality incident, or as entertainment in true crime shows. It’s used to tell a very different story in your film.

I wanted to subvert the use of body cam footage. Body camera footage is a violent tool of the state. It’s often used to criminalize us, particularly people of color. It’s used to dehumanize us, to surveil us, to protect the police. What I wanted to do with this material was flip that narrative and use it to humanize this community.

Why do you think that Susan was not seen as a threat by the police?

She’s a middle-aged white lady. She weaponized her race, her status, and she kept trying to weaponize the police against the community. The fact that she was using hate speech against children [she allegedly called them the N-word]. She was filming them. She was throwing things at them. She was cursing at them. But the police didn’t flag her as more than just a nuisance…. After the third time she called and it was unfounded and not about an actual crime, there should have been some measure taken to reprimand her. They didn’t tell the community that they could file charges against her: “She’s harassing you all. She’s harassing your children.” It was systemic neglect. And honestly, should the police be a catch-all for everything? Probably not. But they were not equipped. They didn’t take the necessary steps and the worst outcomes happened, which is that we lost Ajike, and Susan is in prison for the rest of her life. I’m sure that’s not the outcome she wanted.

There’s a moment in the film where a policeman knocks on Susan’s sliding glass door. She doesn’t know it’s a cop. She opens the curtain and screams at him in a terrifying, almost demonic voice. It’s quite a switch from her nervous, genial 911 calls.

Yeah, the jump scare. That was one of the moments where I was like, “Oh, there she is.” And the 911 call, after she shot Ajike. She was hysterical. Then her voice changes when she says, “They keep bothering me and bothering me, and they won’t f— stop.” I felt my heart clench, because it’s like, “Oh, there she really is.” She has this way of going between victim and aggressor. A little Jekyll and Hyde. It’s frightening.

The victim/aggressor dynamic is part of what makes “stand your ground” laws so dangerous. They can be weaponized.

“Stand your ground” policy was born in Ocala and now it’s in around 38 states, in different forms. It’s a law that emboldens people to pick up a gun to solve a dispute. If you can other-ize your neighbor to the extent of [killing] them, the question is, what else will you do? What else will we tolerate? As human beings, how we show up in our communities is a reflection of how we show up in the world. This film takes place on this tiny street, but it is a microcosm of what is happening today. Susan represented the dangers, and that little community represented the best of what’s under threat.

Tyrese Gibson faces one charge of cruelty to animals stemming from a September incident in Fulton County, Ga., that left a neighbor’s 5-year-old dog mauled and dead.

The Fulton County Sheriff’s Office booked the 46-year-old singer-actor, a staple in the “Fast and Furious” film franchise, on Friday. He was released on a $20,000 surety bond. Attorney Gabe Banks said in a statement that Gibson voluntarily turned himself “to answer for a misdemeanor warrant.”

“Despite what others might say, throughout this entire process Mr. Gibson has cooperated fully with legal authorities and will continue to do so until this matter is resolved,” Banks said. “Mr. Gibson once again wants to extend his deepest condolences to the family who lost their dog and respectfully asks for privacy and understanding as this matter is handled through the appropriate legal channels.”

Police said earlier this week that Gibson failed to turn himself into law enforcement after an arrest warrant was issued stemming from a violent incident involving the actor’s Cane Corso dogs. On the night of Sept. 18, a neighbor of the “Morbius” star let her small spaniel out to her yard and returned five minutes later to find the dog had been attacked. The dog was rushed to a veterinary hospital but did not survive, police said.

The Cane Corsos were then seen at the house, where the owner called police, saying she was afraid to go outside. Animal control officers responded and were able to keep the dogs back while the neighbor went to her vehicle.

The arrest warrant issued for the movie star was part of an “ongoing issue” following multiple calls about the dogs in the last few months, Fulton County Police Capt. Nicole Dwyer said. Gibson received multiple warnings before the warrant was issued, and police also attempted to cite him before the attack, Dwyer said, but Gibson was not at his Atlanta home.

Police had a search warrant for Gibson’s property on Sept. 22, but the actor and the dogs were not there.

In a statement shared to the actor’s Instagram page on Wednesday, Gibson and Banks expressed condolences to the family “who lost their beloved dog in this tragic incident.” The “Transformers” and “Baby Boy” star said his heart “is truly broken,” the note said, and that “he has been “praying for the family constantly, hoping they may one day find it in their hearts to forgive him.”

The statement said that the attack occurred while Gibson, who “accepts full responsibility for his dogs,” was out of town. The actor has since rehomed the two adult dogs and their three puppies, the statement said, adding “the liability of keeping them was simply too great.”

Gibson also issued a personal statement, describing his passion for dogs and declaring that his animals have “never been trained to harm.” He said he has been in Los Angeles with family, mourning the death of his father.

“Please know that I am praying for you, grieving with you, and will continue to face this tragedy with honesty, responsibility, and compassion,” he added.

In another Instagram statement shared Tuesday, Banks explained that Gibson’s decision to bring the Cane Corso dogs into his home was for security against stalkers who had been “randomly showing up at his home” in recent years. Banks said that the dogs “never harmed a child, a person, or another dog” until the September incident.

Gibson said Tuesday: “I had no idea I would ever wake up to this nightmare, and I know the family must feel the same way. To them, please know that my heart is broken for you. I am praying for your healing and for your beloved pet, who never deserved this. I remain committed to facing this matter with honesty, responsibility, and compassion.”

The Associated Press contributed to this report.

Good morning, and welcome to L.A. on the Record — our City Hall newsletter. It’s Julia Wick and David Zahniser, giving you the latest on city and county government.

It’s been a minute since Hugo Soto-Martínez and Colter Carlisle last bumped into each other in the laundry room of their apartment complex.

Not since before Carlisle, who serves as vice president of the East Hollywood Neighborhood Council, filed paperwork Monday to challenge Soto-Martínez for his L.A. City Council seat.

“I am wondering if it will be the most awkward moment of my entire life,” Carlisle said of his inevitable laundry room run-in with his new opponent. “But we’ll see how it goes.”

A sitting council member being challenged by a member of a neighborhood council is far from an unusual occurrence. But this is the first time, to our knowledge, that a council member will face off against their upstairs neighbor.

“I want to be clear that me running has zero to do with the fact that he’s my downstairs neighbor,” Carlisle said.

Carlisle, who works in freelance legal sales and has served on the neighborhood council since 2021, will face a vertiginously steep path in his quest to unseat Soto-Martínez.

Soto-Martínez ousted an incumbent in 2022, expanding the council’s left flank to represent a densely packed collection of neighborhoods that includes Silver Lake, Echo Park, Atwater Village and Hollywood.

A former union organizer, Soto-Martínez has deep support from the city’s powerful labor unions and the local chapter of Democratic Socialists of America. He is one of the few renters on the council and was running unopposed until Carlisle entered the race.

It was “a massive coincidence,” Carlisle said, that the neighborhood council member (who won his 2023 election with 16 votes) and the City Council member (who won his 2022 election with 38,069 votes) lived in the same East Hollywood complex in the first place.

“After he won, we were both kind of like, ‘Wait, are we, like, co-workers now?’” Carlisle recalled. “When that happened, it was sort of like, OK, I don’t want to bother him at home. I don’t want him to come home and worry he’s going to run into me. Both of us need to come home and decompress.”

Carlisle voted for Soto-Martínez for 2022, he said, but housing issues catalyzed his decision to challenge his neighbor in 2026.

Carlisle argues that the city’s push to build more housing is displacing long-term residents. He thinks the payouts the city requires for tenants who are pushed out by new construction are insufficient.

“I don’t believe that knocking down the rent-controlled apartments is going to lead to more affordability in Los Angeles,” Carlisle said.

He takes particular issue with Soto-Martínez’s support for Senate Bill 79 — a housing bill on Gov. Gavin Newsom’s desk that would override local zoning and allow far more density near transit stops.

Carlisle vehemently opposes the bill, contending that new construction will come at the expense of existing rent-stabilized units. (The bill exempts most rent-stabilized buildings, but not duplexes.)

He also thinks Soto-Martínez should have fought a planned eight-story apartment building on Carlton Way. The development will require demolishing a number of small rent-stabilized apartment buildings to build 131 new apartment units — 17 of which will be set aside for low- or very low-income residents.

Soto-Martínez spokesperson Nick Barnes-Batista said the council member’s office had been working closely with the tenants on Carlton Way and that the project followed affordability guidelines. Although the remaining 114 units in the building will be market rate, they will all fall under the city’s rent-stabilization ordinance, Barnes-Batista said.

Barnes-Batista also clarified that his boss did not take an official position on SB 79: He merely voted to oppose a resolution opposing it, rather than voting to support it.

(We apologize that you will have to read the prior sentence twice, slowly, to understand what the heck it means. The semantic distinction is there, but it’s a narrow one.)

“Renters make up over 60% of the city, yet they’ve historically been left out of decision-making at City Hall. We’re changing that with a full-time team helping tenants facing eviction stay in their homes, and we have a motion in committee right now to hopefully cap rent increases at 3% for every rent-stabilized tenant in Los Angeles,” Soto-Martínez said in a written statement.

And for those keeping track at home, Councilmember Tim McOsker is now the only incumbent running unopposed.

State of play

— PAYING PLAINTIFFS? Seven people told The Times they were paid to sue Los Angeles County over sexual abuse at juvenile halls. The claims were part of a $4-billion payout — the largest sex abuse settlement in U.S. history. A Times investigation found that a nebulous network of vendors ushered people desperate for cash toward a law firm that could profit significantly from the business.

— SCRUTINIZING SB 79: Gov. Gavin Newsom still hasn’t decided the fate of Senate Bill 79, the aforementioned landmark housing bill that would upzone scores of neighborhoods across the city, paving the way for taller, denser buildings near public transit. But the scramble is already on by homeowners, renters’ rights advocates and even politicians to figure out which locations are covered by SB 79 — a task made difficult by the bill’s various exemptions and deferrals.

— HOUSING SLUMP: Apartment construction in L.A. has dropped by nearly a third over the last three years, as real estate developers struggle with unprofitable economics and continued uncertainty around city and state housing laws. “L.A. has been redlined by the majority of the investment community,” said Ari Kahan, a principal of California Landmark Group.

— RAISING THE WAGE: Speaking of new regulations, six members of the City Council are looking at increasing the hourly pay of private sector construction workers with a law that would give them a $32.35 per hour minimum wage and a $7.65 per hour healthcare credit. Under their proposal, the council would need to authorize a study of the idea first.

— AUTOMATIC APPROVAL: One of Mayor Karen Bass’ appointees on the Board of Police Commissioners has secured another term, but not because he was approved by the City Council. The mayor’s reappointment of Erroll Southers, a former FBI agent turned top USC security official, showed up on several council agendas. But the council, facing protesters at several meetings, never actually acted, allowing Southers’ approval to become automatic.

— FAREWELL, ZACH! Bass is losing her top press deputy. Deputy Mayor Zach Seidl has taken a job as managing director of Click Strategies, a political consulting firm based in L.A. run by former Newsom comms chief Nathan Click. Seidl, who departs Oct. 17, has been an aide to Bass over the last decade, working for her in the U.S. Congress, on the campaign trail and inside City Hall. Bass has named Samuel Jean, a communications strategist, as her interim communications director.

(Fun fact: Back in December, Seidl helped Click pull off his marriage proposal to his now-fiance and Seidl’s then-colleague, former Bass deputy mayor Joey Freeman, on the observation deck of City Hall.)

— RESISTING THE RVS: A proposed RV park in L.A.’s Harbor City neighborhood has been met with fierce opposition from local residents, spurring a lengthy battle inside and outside City Hall.

— FINDING THE BEDS: A new tracking system at the Los Angeles Homeless Services Authority was supposed to modernize an antiquated process for filling beds inside L.A. County’s homeless shelters, ensuring that more people get off the streets. But the nonprofits who run the shelters say the data produced by the system are often inaccurate.

— POLICE BLOTTER: LAPD officers apprehended a man on Friday who drove a car onto the Spring Street steps of City Hall and wouldn’t come out of his vehicle for about two hours.

QUICK HITS

• Where is Inside Safe? The mayor’s signature program to address homelessness did not launch any new encampment operations this week.
• On the docket next week: The City Council votes Tuesday on whether to finalize a big increase in trash fees for single-family homes and small apartments. Meetings will be canceled on Wednesday and Friday so members can attend the annual League of California Cities conference.

Stay in touch

That’s it for this week! Send your questions, comments and gossip to [email protected]. Did a friend forward you this email? Sign up here to get it in your inbox every Saturday morning.

It was a particularly busy Thursday morning for the Bixby Knolls neighborhood of Long Beach.

The area, which is home to an array of independently owned businesses and small restaurants, both of which boast unique facades from storefront to storefront, saw hundreds of eager fans start lining up outside its doors as early as 8 a.m.

Many crowded around one store in particular: Fingerprints Music, which only recently began to call Bixby Knolls its home — in April — after a roughly 15-year residency in downtown Long Beach. As crowd control barricades began springing up and artist security personnel lingered outside the famed vinyl record shop, passersby and neighbors alike began to ponder what could be going on.

It was simple: Cardi B.

The “Bodak Yellow” singer managed to squeeze in a meet-and-greet event at the store to commemorate last week’s release of her sophomore album, “Am I the Drama?” A link to tickets dropped on Fingerprints Music’s website on Sept. 9, which fans barely gave a chance to breathe.

“I follow her on Instagram — I have hard notifications on every platform — so, as soon as the video went up, I rushed to the website and bought it,” said Gerardo Torres of Gardena. “I was probably one of the first few [to buy tickets], less than five minutes after she announced it I already had mine.”

Arlene Heaton, left, of Kern County and Gerardo Torres of Gardena hold a Cardi B flag.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

Torres stood near the front of the line, which he joined around 10:30 a.m. Next to him was Arlene Heaton of Rosamond, who had just driven three hours from the Kern County community to arrive at the same time. The two met in line and quickly became friends — she donning a rhinestone-studded ensemble and he draping a flag depicting Cardi B around his shoulders.

“If she would’ve been three hours away, I would have been there as well!” Torres added.

“It took about 10 minutes [to sell out],” Heaton said. “I love the album and I just had to get the CD… I wanted to support her and I came all the way from Rosamond to see this happen — history, this is history.”

Though the event was scheduled for a 2 p.m. start, it wasn’t until 2:30 that Cardi arrived on the scene. A few fans trickled out from behind the store, rejoicing that they’d seen her arrive.

Moments later, security formed a human barrier around the entrance, and Cardi stepped out of the store with a megaphone. Whatever she said was rendered unintelligible among the thunderous cheers of fans who surged forward, putting her entourage to the test.

“I do music myself, I’m not a fan of many, but her? Oh, my God, there was no way. I got up at like 8 in the morning; I set my alarm for 6:30,” said Curshawn Watts, who called herself the “Queen of Compton.” “I was out here! I didn’t care how early I had to be here — I had to be here!” Watts said.

Curshawn Watts, a rapper who calls herself the “Queen of Compton,” holds a CD of Cardi B’s “Am I the Drama?” at Thursday’s meet-and-greet in Long Beach.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

She’d been waiting since 10 a.m. and said the heat didn’t bother her: “It’s worth it all, baby!” she declared.

As fans made their way into the store, they were greeted by the sound of tracks from Cardi’s new album playing on the store speakers. “Am I the Drama?” vinyl records and CDs filled out the shelves, and portraits of Cardi stood above them.

Nestled in the back corner behind a black curtain sat the woman herself, visibly pregnant, in brown snakeskin heels, denim shorts, and adorning various gold statement pieces. She had confirmed in a CBS interview last week that she and NFL star Stefon Diggs were expecting a child.

An estimated 1,200 fans arrived on the blistering day in Long Beach, though only 800 were able to secure a guest list spot to see the 32-year-old hip-hop artist. Others assembled nearby, hoping for a chance to merely lay eyes on her or, perhaps, to get lucky enough to join the meet-and-greet.

Indeed, Fingerprints Music and Cardi B accommodated around 200 to 300 more people toward the tail end of the event from among those who didn’t make the list. The event lasted until well after 5 p.m.

By that time, the somewhat chaotic nature of the meet-and-greet’s afternoon heights had settled down. Street vendors no longer camped outside, artists wrapped up their pieces for sale, and the weather began to cool.

Cardi B prepares to take a photo with a fan at the meet-and-greet.

(Allen J. Schaben/Los Angeles Times)

“We don’t usually do that, but everyone seemed pretty chill,” said Rand Foster, owner of Fingerprints Music. “For somebody at that caliber to be that open was really refreshing.”

Cardi B even stayed overtime to do a surprise signing of an exclusive alternate cover of her album. Four photos from a courtroom appearance she made in August embellish that variant.

Foster said he considered Thursday’s event, the largest the store has held since moving to its new location, to be a resounding success. He noted that when the store was downtown, the store once hosted an Ozzy Osbourne meet-and-greet that had a roughly 2,300-person turnout.

At its location in Bixby Knolls, the store is still feeling out its neighborhood. Foster said not only did the event bring extra traffic to other businesses, but he “didn’t hear any neighbors put out by it.”

Cardi B could have easily opted for a location more central to Los Angeles, such as Amoeba Music, so many fans were surprised and happy to see Long Beach get some love.

One man, who called himself Mr. Boug’e and sported a uniquely curled beard, said it came down to Long Beach being “dope.”

Mr. Boug’e holds up two vinyl record variants of Cardi B’s latest album, “Am I the Drama?”

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

“I call it Strong Beach,” he joked. “She got love everywhere — it don’t matter. It can be in an alley… or Alaska; they gon’ love her.”

Foster, whose shop has a long-standing relationship with its Hollywood peers at Amoeba, said the decision by Cardi B’s team to hold her meet-and-greet in Long Beach probably also came down to logistics.

“Anybody who is doing this kind of event and doing it with an eye towards longevity has to be respectful to the neighbors,” he explained. “Our line got about six blocks long; I think that would be tough on Hollywood Boulevard.”

WASHINGTON — The street, normally quiet, was abuzz. The block lit up with flashing police cruisers and officers in tactical vests. Some had covered their faces. Neighbors came out of homes. Some hurled insults at the police, telling them to leave — or worse. Dozens joined in a chant: “Shame on you.”

Aaron Goldstein approached two officers. “Can you tell me why you couldn’t do this at 10:30 or 9:30, and why you had to terrorize the children in our neighborhood?” the man asked the officers as they turned their gazes away from him. Both wore dark sunglasses against the morning sun.

They said nothing.

The arrest shattered the routine of the neighborhood around Bancroft Elementary School, a public school where more than 60% of students are Latino. It came on the third day of a new school year, and immigration fears had already left the neighborhood on edge. Groups of residents had started escorting students to school from two nearby apartment complexes.

It was just another morning in Washington, D.C., in Summer 2025 — the summer of President Trump’s federal law-enforcement intervention in the nation’s capital.

A confrontation that was one among many

Some interludes unfold calmly. During others, nothing happens at all. But the boil-over Wednesday morning was one among many that have erupted across the city since Trump’s police takeover, offering a glimpse into daily life in a city where emotions have been pulled taut. Sightings of police activity spread quickly, attracting residents who say the federal infusion is unwelcome.

Families and children had been making their way toward a bilingual elementary school in the Mount Pleasant neighborhood when federal and local police officers descended on an apartment building just blocks from the school. Neighbors had been on high alert amid fears of increased immigration enforcement.

Now officers were flooding the street, some in plainclothes and face coverings. Some carried rifles or riot shields. Neighbors gathered outside and began yelling at the police to leave. Blocks away, as word spread, an assistant principal waiting to greet students sprinted to the scene.

In an interview, Goldstein, the Mount Pleasant resident, said it felt like a violation of the neighborhood, which he described as a “peaceful mix of white professionals and migrant neighbors, with a lot of love in it.”

“People are on Signal chats and they’re absolutely terrified, and everyone is following this,” said Goldstein, 55, who had just dropped off his third-grade daughter at Bancroft. “It’s distressful. We feel invaded, and it’s really terrible.”

The standoff continued after police arrested a man who they said is accused of drug and firearm crimes. Dozens of residents trailed officers down a side street and continued the jeers. “Quit your jobs.” “Nobody wants you here.” “You’re ruining the country.”

Asked about the episode later at a news conference, D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser said it attracted “a significant number of protesters” but “we were able to maintain calm.” Said Bowser: “I know there’s a lot of anxiety in the District.”

One officer, in the middle of it all, tries to talk

The conflict was punctuated by a remarkably candid conversation led by a Metropolitan Police Department sergeant who took questions from neighbors in what he described as “not an official press conference.”

“This is just me talking to community members,” Sgt. Michael Millsaps said, leaning back against the rear bumper of a cruiser.

Millsaps said the city’s police department was carrying out a planned arrest of a “suspected drug dealer” with support from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives. The suspect was taken into custody and a search of his apartment uncovered narcotics and an illegal firearm, Millsaps said.

Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers joined only as a distraction to prevent protesters from disrupting the operation, he said.

“The immigration folks were parked over there to get y’all to leave us alone,” he said. ICE officials did not immediately comment.

Residents told Millsaps that their trust of the city’s police had been broken. They said they felt less safe amid Trump’s crackdown. Millsaps said he was sorry to hear it. “I hear your frustrations. My job is to take it.”

Still, he described a different response from residents east of the Anacostia River, in some of the city’s highest crime areas. “I go on the other side of the river now, it’s the opposite. People come outside and thank us,” he said.

Mount Pleasant resident Nancy Petrovic was among those yelling at city and ATF officers after the arrest. Petrovic, a lifelong resident of the area, rushed out of her home when she heard yelling shortly after 8 a.m. She counted at least 10 police cars lined up across the block.

“Kids are going to school, they’re walking to school, and it’s frightening to them and their parents,” said Petrovic, who said the street is usually quiet and has no need for more police. “We want them to go away.”

Asked about the timing of the arrest, Millsaps said it was a planned operation similar to countless others.

“I’ve been doing this for 14 years, serving these warrants at the same time of day,” he said. “The only difference is you’ve got a big crowd here, which added even more police presence. But this was just a normal police operation.”

Binkley writes for the Associated Press.

I stepped on my bathroom scale the other morning and could not believe the three digits staring up at me.

And I mean that literally — the scale was rigged.

I know this because I’ve been dieting my butt off, and I swear I’ve dropped 20 pounds. So the first thing I did was ask my wife whether she messed with the scale as some kind of prank.

She said no, adding, “Maybe you’re retaining liquids.”

Steve Lopez

Steve Lopez is a California native who has been a Los Angeles Times columnist since 2001. He has won more than a dozen national journalism awards and is a four-time Pulitzer finalist.

I threw the scale out immediately. Then I went back into the bathroom, took one look in the mirror, and got another shock.

That couldn’t be me in the reflection. No way.

I’ve got more hair than that. Everybody knows it, and people comment on it. I go onto social media and people are asking one another, almost every day: “How does he maintain such a full mane and youthful glow?”

I called my barber and fired him.

It’s not the barber, my wife said. You should take another look in the mirror.

Our columnist was dismayed when he discovered the Bible ranks higher in book sales than his own works. “That should be on the list of fake miracles, right up there with the loaves and fishes,” he writes.

(Marta Lavandier / Associated Press)

She’s been somewhat out of sorts lately, ever since I went on Nextdoor to wish all my neighbors a happy Independence Day, including “all you scum I wouldn’t speak to IF YOU WERE THE LAST ONES at the picnic.”

Half the time, my wife doesn’t even live with me, and I don’t know where she is. It’s odd, because the marriage is perfect. People ask us what the secret is, and I say it’s hospitality. We open our hearts and our home to others, and we were planning on building a backyard ballroom until our financial advisor told us we were already running up massive debt.

I sued him for negligence and financial fraud.

My wife brought home a couple of refugees sponsored by her church, and I went along with it, even though I think it’s wrong to blame coyotes every time a neighborhood pet disappears. We were having a cup of coffee and a few pastries, and one of them took a second almond croissant. And then, even before he finished it, he reached out and grabbed a bear claw.

There I am, watching it disappear, and between bites, this freeloader starts telling us our country has to offer more help to his country.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

“I wanted the bear claw!” I said. “You didn’t even say thanks for the croissant, and now you want a third pastry? Get out of my house!”

To calm myself, I slipped into the living room to relax with a book. I picked one that was on a shelf next to three books I’ve written, which made me curious about how sales have been going lately.

So I went to Amazon to check the rankings.

The first book I checked was ranked 3,907,369. I swear on the Bible, which, by the way, was ranked 206 on the bestsellers list.

Really?

Matthew, Mark, Luke and John have been in the ground for what, a couple of thousand years? Nobody can tell you whether any of them knew a Magi from a Musketeer, not to mention that the Roman Empire they worked under was a failed administration. And their book is selling better than mine by a mile?

That should be on the list of fake miracles, right up there with the loaves and fishes.

A dispute with a neighbor over a property line ? “The boundaries are rigged.”

(A dispute with a neighbor over a property line ? “The boundaries are rigged.”)

My book is a great book. It’s already listed up there with the all-time classics, and it got starred reviews everywhere. At Barnes & Noble, they keep it in the Beautiful Books section. When I was on a book tour, I had the biggest crowds ever. Way bigger than Hemingway. People are still talking about it.

So to cut to the chase, I gave my sales rank a Triple F rating.

Fake.

False.

Fony.

And I fired my book agent.

I checked out some of the books ranked higher than mine — other than the “holy” Bible — and it didn’t take long to figure out what’s going on.

First of all, a lot of the people allegedly “buying” books don’t exist. Somewhere between 30% and 40% of the people who go onto the review section and claim they love Stephen King books are actually dead.

And then you have a lot of people coming into this country illegally, ghastly people, and they are voting in elections and they are voting on books, too, because they’re being put up to it, and being well-compensated, I might add.

Little-known fact:

The vote-counting machines and the book-counting machines are made by the same company.

You know what they should call that company?

RIGGED!

Not to be obsessive, but I’ve heard it said that Stephen King doesn’t care for me much, and that’s fine. Water off a duck’s back. My dog has more talent than that guy. All he does is write stories about killers and horrible, sick people.

He should write a book about my neighbor, if he likes deranged people so much. Most neighbors love me; they’re kissing my you-know-what. But then there’s this guy, whom I’m having investigated. I went out to the curb to throw the bathroom scale away, and what do I see? That jackalope is putting his trash can on my property. I’m the one who’s encroaching, he tells me, and I should go to the county offices and check the property records.

Well, it just so happens that I already checked the records, and they’re inaccurate. It figures, because that last county administration was the worst in history. A bunch of corrupt, evil people. Who should have been impeached. They hired incompetents as surveyors, so don’t stand on the street and tell me where I can and can’t put my trash can, because the boundaries are rigged and I’m having them rewritten.

My lawyers are on it, and we will win this case on Day One, guaranteed, with time left over for a round of golf.

Note to self:

On the way home, pick up a bathroom scale.

[email protected]

Dick Van Dyke was reportedly under the weather Saturday and couldn’t host his recurring Vandy Camp fan event with his wife at the couple’s namesake theater at Malibu High School.

Introducing herself as “not the Van Dyke you were expecting,” Arlene Silver explained, via People, that “when you’re 99½ years old, you have good days and bad days … and unfortunately, today is not a good day for him.”

Van Dyke and makeup artist Silver, who married in 2012 when he was 86 and she was 40, usually helm the celebrations together, along with their musical group the Vantastix.

Silver told the audience that she had to wear her “big girl pants and hold the reins without Dick here as the safety net.”

Fans were disappointed but undaunted as the show — described by Silver as a “whimsical, vintage circus” — did go on.

“All of the people at the event were so kind and amazing. Many had flown in from around the world and country. I did fly in from the Bay Area,” one fan, Christy Vaca, wrote on Saturday night on Facebook. “It turned into everyone sending amazing messages to Dick Van [Dyke] who was watching at home. He means so much to us all.

“It was really Heartbreaking.”

Last time we checked in with the “Mary Poppins” star, he was being rescued by neighbors during the Franklin fire, which started in Malibu in early December 2024 and burned for nine days.

“I’m out there laying on the ground trying to undo this fire hose, and the fire’s coming over the hill,” Van Dyke said a few days after the fire started. “What I did was exhaust myself. I forgot how old I am, and I realized I was crawling to get out.”

Neighbors managed to get the beloved entertainer, wife Silver and a number of their pets into a vehicle and out of danger, he said. Cat Bobo was missing, but he turned up when they returned home the next day. Thousands of people had to evacuate.

The neighbors “carried me out,” he said, “and came back and put out a little fire in the guesthouse and saved me.” Van Dyke’s home was spared. Twenty structures were destroyed and 28 were damaged in the fire, according to Cal Fire.

The Van Dykes did not evacuate a month later during the tremendously destructive Palisades fire, Silver said on social media in January.

“Keeping Dick warm and entertained has been the two things that have been my top priority, so, you know, we don’t have power […] or regular electricity, so we don’t have Wi-Fi,” she said, via Page Six. At the time of her Instagram live, they were cooking and charging their devices courtesy of her small camper-trailer.

“I don’t know of any other person of, you know, senior citizen age that would put up with this,” she added, calling her husband a “trouper.”

Often overshadowed by its neighbors with glitzier landmarks — namely Burbank and Pasadena — Glendale gets an unfair rap as being suburban and drab. Many Angelenos (especially those on the Westside) know it primarily for its massive malls: the Glendale Galleria and oft-meme’d Americana at Brand.

Get to know Los Angeles through the places that bring it to life. From restaurants to shops to outdoor spaces, here’s what to discover now.

While its retail landscape is certainly impressive, that’s just the tip of the iceberg of this 30-square-mile city that traverses two mountain ranges and boasts dozens of historic buildings and more than 50 parks. Visit one small corner of this century-old city and your main takeaway might be the preponderance of Armenian bakeries, kebab joints and hookah bars. For a more bohemian, historic take on Glendale, visit Adams Square, where storybook Tudor houses proliferate and a queer community flourishes. At Adams Square Mini-Park, once a gas station, find a public art gallery inside an old service building and nearby crosswalks that have been painted vibrant colors as a way to increase pedestrian visibility and celebrate the local community.

Vintage period revival mansions on enviously large plots of land can be found in Glendale’s higher elevation communities, like Chevy Chase Canyon or El Miradero, situated below the 31-acre Brand Park. Plenty of historic Queen Anne-Eastlake Victorian homes dating to the 1870s to 1890s are also still standing. Some of these older buildings — like a turn-of-the-century Moorish mansion and an old winery barn — now serve as museums, public libraries and nature centers.

While there is plenty of new development — think high-rise condominiums, strip malls, big-box stores and expanded transportation routes — Glendale actively balances preserving its historic sites while promoting change. Take, for instance, Brand Boulevard, the heart of downtown Glendale. It’s a dynamic mix of new retailers, multicultural restaurants and landmark businesses like the 100-year-old Alex Theatre and a corset shop that has been in the same location since 1922.

And the transformation of the city goes even further.

While Glendale once bore the unfortunate reputation of being a mid-20th-century “sundown town,” it has since evolved into a vibrant melting pot. Today, it is home to large communities of Armenians, Latinos, Koreans, Filipinos and Persians. In a significant step toward reconciliation, Glendale became the first city in California — and the third in the nation — to formally apologize for its racist past.

Whichever analogy you choose — a Rubik’s cube, an onion — Glendale is one of the more fickle SoCal destinations that takes time to get to know. There are pockets of funk, beauty and culture — a neon museum, a retro roller rink, a progressive art museum at the top of a cemetery. Glendale also produced numerous Hollywood greats, like John Wayne, Eva Mendes and Paul Walker, and serves as the final resting spot of even larger luminaries, such as Walt Disney, Elizabeth Taylor and Michael Jackson.

Here’s where to go to get the best representation of this oft-misunderstood place that is actually, to name-drop its century-old moniker, a “jewel” of a city.

DOWNIEVILLE, Calif. — Patrice Miller, 71, lived by herself in a small yellow house beneath towering mountain peaks on the edge of a burbling river in this Sierra County village. She doted on her cats and her exotic orchids, and was known to neighbors for her delicious homemade bread. One fall afternoon in 2023, after Miller had failed for several days to make her customary appearance at the town market, a store clerk asked authorities to check on her.

A short time later, a sheriff’s deputy found Miller’s lifeless body in her kitchen. Her right leg and left arm had been partially gnawed off. On the floor around her were the large paw prints of a bear.

Months after her death, officials would make a stunning disclosure, revealing that an autopsy had determined that Miller had likely been killed by the animal after it broke into her home. It marked the first known instance in California history of a fatal bear attack on a human.

But amid the contentious politics around black bears and other apex predators in California, not everyone accepts the official version of how she died.

“We don’t believe the bear did it,” said Ann Bryant, executive director of the Bear League in the Tahoe Basin. “And I will go on record as saying that. … We’ve never had a bear kill anybody.”

The story of Miller’s grisly end — and the increasingly heated battles around predators in California — have come roaring into the state Capitol this spring. Lawmakers representing conservative rural districts in the state’s rugged northern reaches argue that their communities are under attack, and point to Miller as one example of the worst that can happen. One solution they have pushed is changing the law to allow people to set packs of hunting dogs after bears to haze them. A similar measure has been floated — for now unsuccessfully — to ward off mountain lions considered a threat.

Wildlife conservation advocates are aghast. They say turning dogs on bears is barbaric and won’t make anyone safer. They contend the proposed laws don’t reflect a scientifically backed approach to managing wild populations but instead are pro-hunting bills dressed up in the guise of public safety. The real solution, they say, is for humans living near bears to learn to safely co-exist by not leaving out food or otherwise attracting them.

“These people are using [Miller’s death] to try to start hounding bears again,” said Bryant, who maintains that Miller, who was in poor health, must have died before the bear came into her home and devoured her. “She would roll in her grave if she knew that in her death people would create a situation where people were going to mistreat bears, because she loved bears.”

In a recent report, the Department of Fish and Wildlife estimates there are now 60,000 black bears roaming California and notes a marked increase in reports of human-bear conflicts.

(John Axtell / Nevada Department of Wildlife)

Founded in 1849, Downieville, population 300, is one of California’s oldest towns, and also one of its quaintest. Colorfully painted wooden buildings sit at the junction of two rivers, beneath majestic pines and mountain peaks.

Along with tourists, who flood in in the summer for rafting and mountain biking, the town also receives frequent visits from bears and mountain lions. More recently, wolves have arrived with deadly force, snatching domesticated cattle off the open pastures that stretch across the plains on the other side of the mountains east of town.

Miller wound up here about a decade ago, at the end of a rich, complicated life. She had worked in an oil refinery, and also as a contractor. She was a master gardener, expert at transplanting Japanese maples, according to her neighbor, Patty Hall. She was a voracious reader and a skilled pianist. But she also struggled with a variety of serious ailments and substance abuse, according to neighbors and officials.

Longtime residents in the area were used to the challenges of living among wild animals. But in the summer of 2023, Sierra County Sheriff Mike Fisher said he started getting an overwhelming number of calls about problem bears.

“We had three or four habituated bears that were constantly here in town,” said Fisher. “They had zero fear. I would say, almost daily, we were having to go out and chase these bears away, haze them.”

But bears have a sharp sense of smell, a long memory for food sources and an incredible sense of direction. If a tourist tosses them a pizza crust or the last bits of an ice cream cone, or leaves the lid off a trash can, they will return again and again, even if they are relocated miles away.

That summer, Fisher said, no matter what he did, the bears kept lumbering back into town. It was unlike anything he had experienced, he said, and he had grown up in Downieville. “A police car with an air horn or the siren, we would push the bear up out of the community. Fifteen minutes later, they were right back downtown,” he said.

Founded in 1849, Downieville, population 300, is one of California’s oldest towns and also one of its quaintest.

(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)

And then there were the bears harassing Miller and her neighbors.

“There were three bears,” recalled Hall, who lives just up the hill from the home Miller rented. “Twice a night they would walk up and down our [porch] stairs. The Ring cameras were constantly going off.”

Fisher said some of Miller’s neighbors complained that she was part of the lure, because she was not disposing of her garbage properly. Some also alleged she was tossing food on her porch for her cats — and that the bears were coming for it. Miller’s daughter later told sheriff’s officials that bears were “constantly trying” to get into her house, and that “her mother had physically hit one” to keep it out. One particular bear, which Miller had nicknamed “Big Bastard,” was a frequent pest.

Fifty miles from Downieville, in the Lake Tahoe Basin, the Bear League was getting calls about Miller, too. The organization, which Bryant founded more than two decades ago, seeks to protect bears by helping residents coexist with them. This includes educating people about locking down their trash and helping to haze bears away from homes.

“We got calls [from her neighbors] that told us she had been feeding the bears, tossing food out to them, and let them come into her house,” Bryant said. She added that some thought, erroneously, that the Bear League was a government organization, and “maybe we had the ability to enforce the law” against feeding bears.

Hall, Miller’s friend, told The Times that Miller was not feeding bears. Still, the problems continued.

Eventually, officials with the California Department of Fish and Wildlife were called and told Miller she could sign a “depredation permit,” after which authorities could kill bears trying to get into her house. But Miller declined to do so, Fisher said.

In early November, Miller stopped showing up around town, prompting calls for a welfare check.

A little before 3 p.m. on Nov. 8, 2023, Deputy Malcolm Fadden approached Miller’s home, which was a short walk from the sheriff’s office. The security bars on the kitchen window had been ripped off. The window itself had been busted from the outside.

“I knocked on the door,” Fadden wrote in his report, but got no answer.

Patrice Miller was found dead in her rental cottage in November 2023. Bear advocates take issue with an autopsy report that said she probably was killed in a bear attack.

(Jessica Garrison / Los Angeles Times)

Through the window, he saw blood streaked across the living room floor. He took out his gun and burst into the house, where he was greeted by a giant pile of bear scat. He found Miller in the kitchen, her half-eaten body surrounded by food and garbage, which, Fadden wrote, had been “apparently scattered by bears.”

Fisher was horrified. Already frustrated at what he saw as the Department of Fish and Wildlife’s lackluster response to the escalating bear incursions that summer, now he wanted the bear that had fed on Miller to be trapped and killed.

He said the department told him that for the bear to be killed, “the person who lives at the house has to sign the [depredation] permit.” Fisher said he responded: “How many times do I have to tell you the person who lives at that house was eaten by the bear?”

This was the start of a long-running conflict between the sheriff and agency officials that would complicate the release of the autopsy findings about Miller’s death, and also convince Fisher that more aggressive steps were needed to protect his community.

Eventually, Fisher managed to get a depredation permit for the bear that had fed on Miller; his deputies tracked down her landlord, who as the homeowner could sign it. Wildlife officials set up a trap near Miller’s house, and in short order, a bear was caught.

But, according to Fisher, officials initially said it wasn’t the same bear. They said DNA tests showed that the bear who had eaten her was male, and the bear they had caught appeared to be female. They intended to release the bear, he said.

Fisher padlocked the cage, and threatened to call the media. In response, he said, wildlife officials sent a biologist, who determined the bear in the trap was male. It was shot that night.

At that point, few people, including Fisher, believed that the bear had actually killed Miller, as opposed to feeding on her after she died of natural causes. Though there are recorded instances of fatal black bear maulings in other U.S. states, they are rare, and there had been no reports of one in California. Fisher issued a news release saying that the death was under investigation, but that “it is believed that Patrice Miller passed away before a bear, possibly drawn by the scent or other factors, accessed the residence.”

After performing an autopsy, however, the pathologist on contract with Sierra County came to a different conclusion. She issued a report that found that Miller had “deep hemorrhage of the face and neck“ as well as “puncture injuries (consistent with claw ‘swipe’ or ‘slap’).” These injuries, she noted, were “characteristics more suggestive of a vital reaction by a living person.” In short: The pathologist found that Miller was probably killed by the bear.

Because of Fisher’s feud with Fish and Wildlife, that autopsy report, dated Jan. 4, 2024, wouldn’t become public for months.

Fisher said the state agency was refusing to provide him with copies of the DNA analysis of the bear that had been trapped in Miller’s yard. He wanted to see for himself that it matched the DNA evidence collected at her home, saying he hated the thought that a bear that had feasted on a person might still be roaming his town.

“I requested DNA from Fish and Wildlife, and they refused to provide it to me,” he said. “So I withheld the coroner’s report. We stopped talking.”

He said he verbally told department officials that the pathologist believed Miller had been killed by the bear — a seemingly noteworthy development. He said that officials responded: “I guess we’ll see when we get the report.”

In an email to The Times, state wildlife officials confirmed that Fisher had verbally shared the results of the autopsy report, but said they felt they needed to see the report to do their “due diligence before making an announcement about the first fatal bear attack in California.” The agency had sent an investigator to the scene after Miller’s death, who like Fisher and his deputies, thought the evidence suggested she had died of natural causes, said agency spokesperson Peter Tira.

By the time Fisher got the autopsy report, it was deep winter in the mountains, and bear activity decreased. Then came spring, and along with the blossoms, the bears came back to Downieville.

Bears were knocking over trash cans and breaking into cars. In May, residents on Main Street reported that a bear had broken into multiple houses, including one incursion that involved a bear standing over 82-year-old Dale Hunter as he napped on his couch.

A few days later, a bear tried to break into the cafeteria at Downieville High School while students were at school.

Fisher declared the bear a threat to public safety. Fish and Wildlife eventually issued a depredation permit, and the bear was shot.

That led to a story in the Mountain Messenger, the local paper. In it, the sheriff dropped a bombshell: “Miller was mauled to death after a black bear entered her home,” the paper reported. The story went on to say that the sheriff had made “numerous attempts” to inform Fish and Wildlife “about Miller’s death and more recent dangerous situations.”

After the story ran, state Sen. Megan Dahle, a Lassen County Republican who at the time served in the Assembly, set up a conciliatory meeting between Fish and Wildlife and Fisher. They have been meeting regularly ever since, Fisher said.

Fisher got his DNA results confirming that the bear trapped in Miller’s yard was the same bear that had eaten her. And Fish and Wildlife officials finally got a copy of the pathology report, which said Miller was probably alive when she encountered the bear.

The revelation made headlines around the state. “We’re in new territory,” Capt. Patrick Foy of Fish and Wildlife’s law enforcement division told the San Francisco Chronicle.

Bryant and other bear advocates found the release of such a significant finding so long after the fact confounding.

“I absolutely do not believe it,” Bryant said. If the bear had killed her, Bryant added, “the evidence should have been so clear, like immediately.”

“We don’t believe the bear did it,” Ann Bryant, executive director of the Bear League, says of Patrice Miller’s death. “We’ve never had a bear kill anybody.”

(Max Whittaker / For The Times)

The Downieville saga unfolded as bears seemed to be making news all over California.

To many, it seemed there were just many more bears encroaching on human settlements. A Fish and Wildlife report released last month estimated there are now 60,000 black bears roaming the Golden State, roughly triple the figure from 1998, the last time the department issued a bear management plan. That’s the highest population estimate for anywhere in the contiguous U.S., although the report also suggests that California’s bear population has been stable for the last decade.

In the Lake Tahoe area, where 50,000 people live year-round and tens of thousands more crowd in on busy tourist weekends, bears were breaking into houses and raiding refrigerators; they were bursting into ice cream shops and strolling along packed beaches.

State and local officials went into overdrive, trying to teach residents and tourists how to avoid attracting bears. The state set money aside for distribution of bear-proof trash cans and “unwelcome mats” that deliver a jolt of electricity if bears try to break into homes.

The Bear League will loan Tahoe Basin residents “unwelcome mats” that deliver a little jolt of electricity to bears if they try to break into homes.

(Max Whittaker / For The Times)

The Bear League stepped up its efforts. From a small office on Bryant’s property, the organization’s 24-hour hotline was ringing, and volunteers were rushing out with paintball guns to haze bears and to advise people on how to bear-proof their houses.

The tensions continued to escalate, nonetheless, between people who wanted to protect bears at all costs and those who wanted some problem bears trapped and relocated — or killed. In 2024, after a homeowner in the Tahoe area fatally shot a bear he said had broken into his home, many people were outraged that the Department of Fish and Wildlife declined to file charges.

Advocates also complained that the state has fallen behind in its efforts to help people and bears coexist. In recent years, the state had hired dedicated staff to help people in bear country, but the money ran out and some of those people were laid off, said Jennifer Fearing, a wildlife advocate and lobbyist.

“We have the tools to minimize human-wildlife conflict in California,” Fearing said. “We need the state to invest in using them.”

In Sierra County, the sheriff had come to a different conclusion. “We’ve swung the pendulum too far on the environmental side on these apex predators,” Fisher said.

Earlier this year, Fisher found common cause with newly elected GOP Assemblymember Heather Hadwick. “Mountain lions, bears and wolves are my biggest issue. I get calls every day about some kind of predator, which is crazy,” said Hadwick, who represents 11 northern counties.

In February, she introduced a bill, AB 1038, that would allow hunters to sic trained dogs on bears to chase them through the woods, but not kill them. While California has a legal hunting season for bears, it is strictly regulated; the use of hounds to aid the chase has been banned since 2013.

Hadwick argued that hounding bears would increase their fear of humans, which she said some are starting to lose: “We’re keeping them in the forest, where they belong.”

Bears have a long memory for food sources and an incredible sense of direction. If a tourist tosses them a pizza crust or leaves the lid off a trash can, they will return again and again.

(California Department of Fish and Wildlife)

Wildlife advocates showed up in force last month to oppose Hadwick’s bill in an Assembly committee hearing. Sending hounds after bears is cruel, they said. Plus, hounding bears in the woods would have no impact on the bears knocking over neighborhood trash cans and sneaking into ice cream stores.

Fisher testified in favor of the bill, and spoke of Miller’s death.

Lawmakers listened, some with stricken looks on their faces. But in a Legislature controlled by Democrats, Hadwick did not garner enough votes to send her bill on to the full Assembly; it became a two-year bill, meaning it could come back next year.

Fisher returned to Sierra County, where he has continued to advocate for locals to have more power to go after predators. The current situation, he said, is “out of control.”