Sense of History, Fear Draw Trial Spectators

College professor Ray Ceniceroz said he was there to witness a slice of Los Angeles history. “It’s like coming to see Queen Elizabeth,” said the 54-year-old Arcadia resident.

Kristen Barnard skipped class at USC to attend, recalling still the fear that swept Southern California three years ago. “It influenced my life a great deal,” she said. “I was so careful.”

Abraham Persky, 66, a men’s clothing salesman from Northridge, admitted he was drawn to the courtroom by his fascination with the vagaries of justice. His first impression was that the defendant’s decision to wear sunglasses was “ridiculous.”

They had come, along with scores of others, to witness the opening Monday of the Night Stalker trial. A capacity crowd in the courtroom of Superior Court Judge Michael A. Tynan heard an opening statement and initial testimony against Richard Ramirez, a 28-year-old drifter from El Paso accused of 13 murders and 30 other felony counts.

The courtroom, with room for about 75 spectators, was packed mainly with news reporters and lawyers. About 20 members of the general public also were allowed to file through a metal detector and take seats inside. Dozens more waited outside, eager to get in. Some stood in line for hours.

Just before 11 a.m., bailiffs declared the courtroom filled, and Ramirez was escorted to his seat at the defense table. The crowd watched silently, and the only thing that could be heard was the jangling of the defendant’s shackles.

Tynan called the trial--which is expected to take more than a year--to order. The judge began by delivering a piece of distinctly Southern California advice to the jurors: “I would think about jogging, lifting weights. You’re going to have to do something physical.”

A Part to Play

Not everyone who came to the proceeding was drawn by spectacle. Jack Vincow came because of his mother. He would be the first witness.

In June, 1984, Vincow found his mother, Jennie, 79, slashed to death in the bed of her Glassell Park apartment. After the opening statement, the 50-year-old pharmacist shuffled to the stand and began to describe the discovery.

“There was a neck gash that looked like someone attempted to remove her head and nearly succeeded,” Vincow testified in his pronounced Brooklyn accent.

Earlier, over a cafeteria lunch, he had discussed his unceasing trauma.

“The loss of someone close to you is painful to anyone,” he said, “but the difference with a loss due to natural causes and a loss due to vicious, senseless, irrational violence is . . . beyond imagination.”

A Need to Relax

Vincow said he was very close to his mother, and after her death had considered taking tranquilizers. Instead, he turned to meditation.

“I chose for myself two simple words: calm and relaxed. Just think about them and repeat them, two simple words to meditate on: calm and relaxed. “

Vincow, who is currently writing a book about meditation, said he was not nervous about testifying against Ramirez.

“I want to, number one, see that justice is done,” he said.

In the hallway outside the courtroom, another man with a personal interest in the case lingered. It was Ramirez’s older brother, Julian. His gray sweat shirt stood in sharp contrast to his brother’s gray pinstriped suit and black sunglasses.

Possibly, Hope for Some

Julian Ramirez would not comment on whether his brother is guilty, but expressed hope that the case might make people aware about the dangers of certain heavy metal lyrics said to fascinate his brother.

“Maybe,” Julian Ramirez said, “he’ll save some souls if people learn about that kind of music.”

Throughout the day, more than 50 would-be spectators were turned away.

“It’s unfair,” said Gee Goodwin, 31, a Jamaican native studying law in Fullerton.

Goodwin said that hypothetical murder cases regularly are reviewed in the criminal law class he had skipped Monday to attend the opening.

“But,” he added, “the cases are not this ugly.”