A Light in the Barrio

This is the kind of story we’ve seen too much of lately: an innocent who gets in the way of raging gang violence and ends up dying in the street.

It happens to men, women and babies, to teen-agers and returning veterans, to neighbors and bystanders.

A death in the barrio is hardly a new occurrence.

What distinguishes this one from others isn’t only the nature of the victim but the startling heroism of a young woman who put her life on the line to save him.

Where men, out of fear or confusion, refused to risk themselves, she stepped forward, and, so doing, shed light into almost impenetrable darkness.

The dead man’s name is Manuel Ortiz. Call the girl Maria.

At 23, Ortiz was one of those guys who shone with a special charm. Not very tall and not good-looking, there was nevertheless a quality about him others found special.

Born in Mexico and educated in East L.A., he seized the American dream as though he owned it. The goal of the dream was to buy his parents a new home outside of the barrio’s gang turf, away from the mean streets.

Toward that end, he dropped out of college to take a full-time job and studied at night for a real estate license.

For two years, Ortiz worked long hours and saved money in pursuit of his goal, even delaying marriage to buy his parents their house.

Then two weeks ago, the dream came true. Ortiz announced ecstatically he had bought a place in Whittier. He was going to move in that Sunday to prepare it for permanent occupancy. Sunday never came.

Saturday, July 13.

A party of young people was under way in a building on Whittier Boulevard. Manuel’s 16-year-old brother Jay was at the party. About 11:30 p.m., Manuel came by to pick him up.

Detective Sgt. Michael Lee, of the sheriff’s homicide division, reconstructs what happened next:

While dancing, Jay had accidentally bumped into another youth. Angry words were exchanged and a fight started. Jay got out of the building and told his brother what happened.

Manuel counseled him to forget it, they’d go on home. Jay agreed and went back inside to get his jacket. The fight started again. This time Manuel intervened.

He was jumped by about a dozen boys, but managed to break free and run across the street to a taco stand. It proved a false haven.

The group chased him and the beating continued, even more viciously. Manuel was on the ground, unable to defend himself, and though there were people at the taco stand, they sat like spectators at a sporting match and did nothing.

Jay had meanwhile run for help, but it was apparent from the intensity of the beating that it wouldn’t arrive soon enough.

Remarkably, a young woman driving by saw what was happening, stopped, screamed for the violence to halt and jumped into the center of the attack. This was Maria.

She tried to pull the beaters off Manuel. When that failed, she threw herself on top of him, absorbing the kicks and punches herself, shielding him from the crazies that surrounded them.

It was an act of heroism made no less heroic by what followed.

The beating stopped, and as two other girls came forward to help Maria pull Manuel to his feet, a killer leaped from the group of attackers and stabbed him 11 times.

Where the beating failed, the knifing succeeded. Manuel Ortiz, in love with life and eager for each day’s morning, died 90 minutes later.

Sgt. Lee calls the murder a heartbreaker. “It was a tragedy that never should have happened,” he says. “Manuel was an outstanding young man on his way up. We lost a good one.”

Five suspects are under investigation. No arrests have been made.

Maria is the pride of the barrio. That isn’t her real name, of course. She was a witness to murder. To reveal her name would be to subject her to violent retribution.

Sgt. Lee wants to see her properly credited for the risk she took, and plans to request a special secret citation from the Board of Supervisors. It was an act of courage as real as any that occurs on a battlefield. And make no mistake, this was a battlefield.

If Maria’s identity must remain hidden, this at least should be said of her: She heard a cry for help on a night that screamed murder and risked her life to respond.

If there is any hope at all for easing violence in the barrios and ghettos of L.A., it may rest with the women to lead the way.

Let it be said here and now that when it mattered most, a girl known only as Maria was among the leaders.