Anxiety Lingers Despite Arrest

The Reed Junior High School auditorium was cold. The 75 people sitting on hard seats were talking about fire--not the kind of fire that could warm them up, but the numerous arson fires that had brought fear and anger into their homes.

The occasion was the second meeting of the Bellingham Avenue Neighborhood Watch group. When the group first met in late January, it was because of their fear over a rash of suspicious fires that had been set in garages, carports and trash bins for a month. The residents of the quiet North Hollywood neighborhood got together to form a patrol to catch the arsonist.

A few weeks later, Reunald Parker, 31, who lives near the area, was arrested soon after four residents, sitting on a roof at 1:30 a.m. on a Monday, spotted him entering and leaving a carport that erupted into flames moments later. Parker was also charged with the other fires on the block.

The meeting at the junior high school did not have much of an air of celebration or relief. The coldness of the auditorium was underscored by the bleakness of the surroundings. A stage that had hosted many a colorful musical or drama was barren. A small podium was set in front of the stage for the meeting’s speakers.

The audience--equally composed of younger and older residents--huddled in coats and hats as the meeting continued.

The residents appeared angry and frustrated. Many asked police and Fire Department officials who attended the meeting about the man who had been arrested. The questions, posed in anxious tones, came rapidly: “Can you talk more about the suspect?” “Is he the only one or are there others?”

And the most asked question: “Why did he do this to us ?”

Los Angeles Fire Department arson investigator Terry Depackh didn’t have many answers that he could talk about with the group, due to the investigation and upcoming preliminary hearing. Politely, but firmly, he tried to calm the group.

“I just can’t comment on that,” he said repeatedly. His other responses: “There’s never a situation where two of these people are setting fires together.” “I don’t believe this was directed at any one person.” “In my opinion, he’s just a guy who sets fires.”

At one point, Lynn Braun, a psychotherapist and hypnotherapist, took over the meeting. Braun, a stately woman wearing a black dress, wanted the audience to address “the emotional effects of what has happened.”

She asked in a low, soothing voice if the incidents had affected anyone’s performance on the job.

Cindy Mascott, an employee at a psychiatric hospital who described herself as being “thirtysomething,” said she was bothered by sirens.

“I get nervous when I hear sirens at my work, and that never happened before,” she said slowly.

Braun asked the audience to deal directly with their anger and trauma.

“There are people who come into my office who are bothered about events that happened 20 or 30 years ago,” she said. “When you have a trauma like this, you need to address it and deal with it.”

She then added: “A lot of people put it on the back burner.” Braun, looking down slightly, said, “Maybe that was not the most appropriate term to use.”

Police Officer Gregg Steitz spoke to the group about his own fire-related trauma. He saw a firefighter die several years ago in a restaurant fire.

“I was the first policeman on the scene, and I saw this guy fall into the fire,” Steitz said as the audience listened quietly. “I had to seek counseling. I had a lot of emotional difficulty with that.” He advised the audience to seek help in dealing with the emotional effects of the fires.

Near the conclusion of the meeting, Stephanie Tepper, who had organized the neighborhood watch, came forward.

Tepper, a petite woman who wore a brightly colored sweater, spoke so determinedly that she could be heard without the microphone.

“I’m glad we got this started, because two of the fires hit my building,” Tepper said. “I do not tolerate crime, and I especially don’t tolerate crime where I live. I come from New York City, and I can tell you that if you don’t carry an Uzi around there, you’re taking your life into your hands.”

Tepper said the neighborhood watch would continue with diligence: “A lot of people know I’m very persistent. We’ve got to stop these folks. Because when this crime hits you, you’re not going to like it.”

Prodded by police, some members of the crowd acknowledged that they had a right to be pleased with their early success. “We did a hell of a job,” said one older woman. “We may have lost our cars, but we didn’t lose our lives.”

The audience began talking of other less significant matters as the meeting broke up --movies they had seen, parties they had attended, television programs they were going home to watch.

But a few, still with anxious looks, stayed to talk with Steitz, still trying to calm their fears before venturing into the night.

FO,