COLUMN ONE : L.A. County Found Armed, Dangerous : Increasingly, it is a place where residents do not leave home without a gun in their pocket or their car. Proliferation of weapons has changed the everyday activities of many.

The people of Los Angeles County are living under the gun.

More are shot to death than are killed in traffic accidents.

Last year, at least 8,600 people were hit by bullets--almost one an hour--while thousands of others were nearly shot.

Los Angeles County has become a place where many residents avoid the park or the mall, the beach, even the windows of their own homes, for fear of a bullet.

It is a place where many judges keep guns handy while administering justice, and where thousands of otherwise law-abiding citizens do not leave home without a gun stashed in their pocket or under the seat of their car.

It is a place where nearly one out of six households has been victimized by a gun-related crime in the past two years, The Times Poll found, and where thousands of children may be suffering lasting emotional injury because of frequent exposure to gunfire.

Firearms-related violence is a significant problem across the country, but in Los Angeles County, even before the riots of 1992, it had exploded to epidemic proportions, inexorably altering the way people live--and die.

“The violence level is overwhelming,” said Sheriff Sherman Block. “Hundreds of thousands of innocent people are being denied the most basic of rights. They can’t even walk the streets at night in their own neighborhood. Their kids have to sleep on the floor to avoid (gunfire). And yet we can’t seem to generate any outrage.”

While the county’s population has grown by one-quarter over the last two decades, the annual number of fatal shootings has more than tripled, records show.

Excluding 489 gunshot suicides and 32 accidental shooting deaths, a record 1,554 people were slain with firearms in Los Angeles County in 1991. That is nearly four times the combined number of those who were fatally stabbed, bludgeoned or strangled.

Firearms advocates point out that twice as many Americans die annually in traffic accidents as are killed with guns or murdered by other means.

Not so in Los Angeles County. Coroner’s statistics show that 1,215 people were killed in car, truck, and motorcycle accidents countywide last year--339 fewer than were killed with guns.

Over the last two decades, the percentage of homicide victims killed by firearms has climbed steadily in Los Angeles County, also contrary to national averages. Three-quarters of the county’s homicides in 1991 were the result of gunshots, compared to about two-thirds nationally.

The Times spent six months investigating firearms and the impact of gun-related violence in Los Angeles County. Among the findings:

- Although no agency tracks how many people are wounded by firearms in the county, a Times survey of emergency rooms determined that at least 8,050 people were brought to local hospitals with fatal and nonfatal gunshots in 1991--13 times the number of U.S. military personnel killed and wounded during the Persian Gulf War.

- Officials estimate that it cost $54 million to treat firearms injuries last year in Los Angeles County. About $43 million of that amount was shouldered by taxpayers because most gunshot victims are treated at county-run hospitals.

- The percentage of fatal shooting victims who are 19 or younger has more than doubled in the last two decades, from 12% in 1970 to 26.5% last year.

In addition, experts say, gunfire is taking another sort of toll of inner-city youths who frequently are exposed to shooting. Several psychiatrists contend that there may be thousands of children in Los Angeles suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder like that experienced by some combat veterans.

- There are more than 3,000 licensed gun dealers in Los Angeles County--more than in any other county in the United States--and most operate in a shadowy world with little government scrutiny.

For $30, virtually anyone--including convicted felons and the psychiatrically disturbed--can get a federal license to sell guns. Few operate legitimate gun stores, instead conducting their business from homes, hotel rooms, private offices and even government buildings.

- The region has become a major gun manufacturing center, especially for cheap, small-caliber handguns that federal authorities say are used disproportionately in crimes across the country. Several makes of guns manufactured in Southern California are banned in at least two states as threats to public safety.

- Despite a slump in the nation’s $6-billion-a-year gun industry, some of Los Angeles County’s largest firearms retailers say their business was up slightly before the riots and has skyrocketed since. And firearms classes are booming, especially for women.

Over the last five years, state Department of Justice records show, 466,453 handguns were sold legally in Los Angeles County, one for every 19 residents. That compares with 120,931 guns sold in San Diego County--one for every 21 residents--and 151,740 guns sold in Orange County, one for every 16 residents. In San Francisco, handgun sales totaled 20,606--a ratio of one for every 35 residents.

Some researchers contend that the chances are slim of ever falling victim to a bullet unless one has a criminal lifestyle or spends time in a high-crime area.

“You can look at the statistics and say your chances have increased,” said psychologist Stuart Fischoff at Cal State Los Angeles, “but the . . . reality of it is that the chances are still very, very small.”

Given the known casualties, the chances of being shot last year in Los Angeles County were about one in 1,000--virtually the same risk as dying of lung cancer, according to state epidemiologist John Young.

Yet those odds offer little comfort to victims of gunfire whose number has come up--or to their survivors.

“It can happen anywhere,” said Caryl Klecker of West Hills. Her stepson, Ronald, 26, died in January after what Los Angeles police described as a “random” bullet slammed into his head as he drove along Victory Boulevard in relatively tranquil Woodland Hills.

The shooting has not been solved.

Not a week goes by, it seems, without stray bullets killing or wounding the innocent. Cars are being stolen at gunpoint in broad daylight. Armed robberies at automated bank teller machines have become commonplace.

Jerry Otworth, 32, a self-employed architectural glass installer, was standing at an automated bank machine in Encino one night last July when a “kid who still had pimples on his face” robbed him then shot him as Otworth tried to flee.

The bullet penetrated his abdomen. Otworth must now wear a colostomy bag.

“Things like this,” he said, “don’t happen in places like Ohio, where I’m from.”

T he crime scene photos are branded in Deborah Imaku’s memory: of her husband Titus lying in the street; of his blood smeared on the driver’s side window of Cab 298; of his face distorted by the two bullets fired at point-blank range.

“He’d say: ‘Baby, 1992’s gonna be our year,’ ” Imaku says, crying quietly. “And now he’s gone.”

They had met in a library. She was a local girl, lacking in direction. He had more than enough for both of them, a Nigerian of great energy striving to achieve the American dream.

They married in 1984, made a home for Deborah’s son from a previous marriage and soon had a daughter of their own. Titus worked odd jobs to pay the rent for the family’s cramped apartment near Compton while studying engineering.

When he got laid off as a hospital lab technician last year, he began driving a cab.

Deborah prayed for his safe return each night. Titus would carry a pocketful of coins and call her on pay phones every few hours. “I’m OK, baby,” he’d say. “Don’t worry.”

One night last May, Titus did not call. There was a knock at the door--two men wearing detectives’ badges and mournful expressions. Deborah Imaku’s wailing awakened the entire apartment complex.

Titus had picked up four youths. They robbed him, taking even his telephone change. A gang member, Kenneth (Youngster) Redman, was charged with doing the shooting and sits in jail, awaiting trial.

“When Redman shot my husband, he shot me too,” Imaku’s widow says. “He destroyed two households--ours and Titus’ family in Africa.”

Unable to forget, unable to work, Deborah Imaku has moved into a $160-a-month apartment in the projects while relying on Social Security income to scrape by.

A few days before last Father’s Day, her daughter came home from school, confused. “Who do I make a card for?” the little girl asked. “I don’t have a daddy anymore.”

Deborah Imaku told her to make a card anyway.

They put it on Titus’ grave.

There is no question, officials say, that much of the rising level of gunfire in Los Angeles County today can be attributed to gangs.

In 1984, there were 450 gangs in Los Angeles County with a hard-core membership of 40,000. Detectives today estimate there are twice as many gangs, with more than 100,000 members.

At least one out of every three homicides in the county last year involved gang members as shooters or victims, authorities say.

Guns have become so integral to gangs that many no longer beat up or “jump in” their new recruits to initiate them. Today, according to officers, the rite of passage for many gang members is to be given a gun with orders to shoot a gang foe or someone else.

Drive-by shootings are also becoming passe. More and more, gang members are doing “walk-up” shootings in which they close to within a few feet of their intended victims.

“It used to be,” said Sgt. Joe Guzman, a sheriff’s gang expert, “that you’d have 50 guys on a side who’d meet in a park at midnight and go at it. . . . Today, instead of brawling, it’s all about guns. It’s all about firepower. It’s all about taking people out .”

Many of today’s gang members have abandoned traditions that once prohibited them from opening fire at schools, churches and hospital emergency rooms, authorities say.

“They fire with impunity and they don’t care who they hit,” said Deputy Probation Officer Mary Ridgeway, a gang specialist.

In February, an 11-year-old girl was hit in the heart by a stray shot as she and her brother waited for an ice cream truck.

In March, a toddler was grazed by a stray bullet while watching television in his parents’ apartment.

In April, a 3-year-old was shot and killed while walking hand in hand with her father, and an 18-month-old girl was shot as she sat on her father’s lap in a car.

Two weeks ago, immediately after the riots, a 9-year-old boy was fatally wounded by a stray bullet as he sat at the dinner table drinking a glass of milk.

“People are always saying: ‘Why do they have to shoot innocent people?,’ ” shrugged an 18-year-old gang member from East Los Angeles. “Why do innocent people have to be there?”

Certainly, the gang member said, his homeboys do not like it when people other than their intended targets are shot. He said he quit doing drive-by shootings after he accidentally shot a 4-year-old child--a crime for which he said he has never been arrested.

It is not difficult for gang members, or anyone else for that matter, to get guns in California. The state has a 15-day waiting period for gun purchases to allow authorities time to check for a criminal record of the buyer. Anyone with a felony or “serious misdemeanor” conviction such as assault is disqualified, but many gang members have no convictions.

Those with criminal records need only visit swap meets and gun shows, where firearms are commonly sold with no questions asked. Guns, many of them stolen in burglaries, also are increasingly available on the street corners of Los Angeles.

No longer is the gun of choice a cheap, small-caliber handgun known as a Saturday night special. Authorities say gang members now favor more powerful semiautomatic, 9-millimeter pistols like those carried by police officers.

Said one South-Central gang member: “A little gun won’t do nothing for you anymore but get you killed, man.”

But what makes these larger pistols particularly dangerous, authorities say, is the limited proficiency of the gang members who use them.

“These guys may know the mechanics of the weapon,” said Deputy Probation Officer James J. Galipeau, “but they’re not marksmen. They don’t have anywhere to train, which means innocent people are hit just as frequently as bad guys.”

People living in the line of fire have learned to cope.

In the Aliso-Pico housing projects near downtown, where there are factions of eight rival gangs, widow Lupe Loera recites a list of the victims:

“My neighbor, her boy got shot three, four months ago. And my other neighbor, her son got shot last year too. . . . Two years ago, there was a 10-year-old girl that got shot, and then there’s that boy who got killed a couple weeks ago, then there’s. . . “

There is so much gunfire that Loera has learned to dive for cover only when the shots are close by. Still, she never looks out the window when she hears shots followed by the wail of sirens.

“You never know,” she said, “when a bullet’s going to come by.”

L ori Johnson ‘s boyfriend , Kenneth Hector, would threaten her when he became angry. Once, she says, he held a handgun to her head and whispered, “This would make you look good.”

She thought that their baby, Louis, would mellow him. But when she refused his demands to give the crying infant a sleeping pill, Hector allegedly hit her, then took a razor and shaved off jagged patches of her shoulder-length hair.

Deputies took him into custody along with the four handguns within reach of their canopy bed, the shotgun propped behind the stereo speaker and the assault rifle in the closet.

Hector got three days in jail and got his guns back, save for the unregistered assault weapon. Johnson got her own place and a separation, allowing Hector to see their baby on weekends.

On Aug. 24, 1991, in the parking lot of a McDonald’s restaurant in South Los Angeles, Hector allegedly drew a .38 - caliber revolver and, without a word, shot Johnson repeatedly as she leaned into his car to unstrap the baby.

She does not remember the bullet that grazed her cheek; nor the one that shattered her jaw and lodged in her forehead, leaving her with diminished vision; nor the one that punctured a lung; nor the one that splintered her thighbone, where a steel rod is implanted.

She vividly recalls how she lost her job as a waitress, how she had to give up Louis to relatives while she mended and how, with a baby no longer at home, the government cut off her monthly $535 in Aid to Families With Dependent Children.

Kenneth Hector, who has remained in jail since the shooting, is expected to go on trial this year on charges of attempted murder. Johnson, meanwhile, says she will not allow their son to play with toy guns .

“He already has his father’s blood,” she says. “I don’t want to make it any worse.”

No one can say with certainty how many firearms exist today in the United States. Federal officials estimate that the number quadrupled between 1950 and 1990, reaching more than 200 million guns in circulation.

The vast majority of firearms, nationally and in Los Angeles County, can be found in the homes of ordinary citizens who buy them for hunting, target shooting, personal safety or as collectors’ items.

In Los Angeles County, The Times Poll found, one in four homes has a gun, usually for personal protection. But dozens of times each week, doctors say, victims are wheeled into emergency rooms in Los Angeles County after being shot by relatives or friends.

“We have a lot of people coming in here who get shot by friends and family,” said Dr. Range Hutson, director of emergency admitting at Los Angeles County-USC Medical Center. “They get mad at each other and the first thing they do anymore is run and grab the gun. It makes it all real easy.”

More than half of the nation’s murder victims in 1990 were acquainted with or related to the person who killed them, according to FBI statistics.

The need for self protection, however, far outweighs any danger that a gun in the home will be turned against a loved one, said Fred Romero, a National Rifle Assn. field representativeand former Los Angeles policeman.

“California in general and the L.A. area in particular is going to hell in a handbasket,” said Romero. “People are starting to take responsibility for their own safety because they can no longer count on law enforcement being there all the time for them.”

A Times poll conducted in April found that one in five adults surveyed in Los Angeles County said they were “likely” to purchase a gun within the next year, with three out of four saying they planned to use it for personal protection.

As recently as two years ago, most of the students at International Shootists Inc. in Mission Hills, where a firearms novice can learn basic handgun skills in one weekend, were men.

“Maybe two or three guys would drag their wives out,” said co-owner Mike Dalton. Today, Dalton said, women make up the majority of many of his classes.

Lore Klein of Malibu said she decided to learn how to shoot after being mugged last March outside a market on National Boulevard.

“You hate to feel like a victim,” said Klein, a free-lance writer who had never fired a gun. She signed up for a firearms class taught by Paxton Quigley, a former gun control advocate who turned pro-gun author and became a spokeswoman for Smith & Wesson.

“If somebody had said to me five years ago that I would be teaching women to shoot guns, I would’ve told them they were crazy,” said Quigley, who estimates she has taught more than 2,000 women. “But there is no such thing anymore as a safe area.”

Many gun supporters contend that if more responsible adults had guns to protect their homes and families, crime would decline.

A study done by criminologist Gary Kleck at Florida State University, a self-described “liberal Democrat,” concluded that armed citizens may deter as many crimes as are committed by armed criminals.

“Much social order,” Kleck said, “may precariously depend on the fact that millions of people are armed and dangerous to each other.”

Gun dealers, instructors and others say that increasing numbers of otherwise law-abiding residents are carrying concealed firearms in Los Angeles County, even though it is illegal to so do without a permit.

The Times Poll found that about one in four civilian gun owners carry a loaded firearm at least occasionally in their car or concealed on their person.

Some suggest that there is a vicious cycle at work. As rising violence prompts increased news coverage, fear grows and the number of people who arm themselves increases, resulting in more gunfire.

Others say there is no correlation between the number of crimes and the availability of guns. The judicial system, they say, is to blame for allowing armed criminals to repeatedly prey on the innocent.

Whatever the truth, this much is known:

A record number of people were shot to death last year in Los Angeles County.

The record, authorities predict, will be broken again in 1992.

T he dead are not stored in body bags at the financially strapped Los Angeles County coroner’s office. At $35 or more per bag, said spokesman Bob Dambacher, “we’d be bankrupt.” Instead, the victims of gunshots and other violence are scooped up and loosely wrapped in sheets of translucent plastic, each precut by County Jail inmates on work furlough. One roll of plastic can accommodate as many as 60 corpses at a cost to taxpayers of about $60.

“Buck-a-body,” is how staff members grimly describe the frugality.

Thus were the remains of 15-year-old Adrian Torres delivered on the last day of 1991.

As detectives would explain it, Torres had been celebrating New Year’s Eve with friends on a porch in Boyle Heights when members of a rival gang approached. One was armed with a rifle designed to shoot deer. Somebody screamed a warning and everybody ducked--but not in time.

The .30-caliber, copper-jacketed bullet ripped through Torres’ abdomen at more than twice the speed of sound, knocking him down. Then, as Torres’ friends scrambled for their lives, the killer calmly placed the rifle barrel against the back of Torres’ skull, squeezing the trigger once more.

And, now, a few hours later inside the coroner’s office, here was Adrian Torres, his brain splayed beside the fist-sized bullet hole where his nose and left eye used to be.

As a technician carefully fingerprinted Torres’ limp right hand, a coroner’s attendant glanced at a wall clock ticking silently above the dead boy.

“Hey,” the attendant said, “it’s midnight.”

In a few hours, even before the first sunrise of 1992, yet another person would be shot to death and delivered to the morgue , wrapped in a dollar’s worth of plastic.

But for now, the living paused to check their watches .

“Happy New Year,” they said solemnly. “Happy New Year.”

About This Series

The Times today starts a five-part series about the impact of firearms on Los Angeles County. “Under Fire” is the result of a six-month study of the role that guns and gun-related violence play in the nation’s most populous county.

In conducting hundreds of interviews with police officers and gun dealers, doctors and judges, crime victims and criminals, longtime residents and new immigrants, The Times found that guns are shaping the way Los Angeles County lives--and dies. On average, one person is shot per hour in the county. Overworked detectives in many areas have given up investigating all but the worst shootings. More people die at the end of a gun than on the county’s vast roadway system. There are more licensed gun dealers than churches. More people are arming themselves. Half of all adults in the county have changed the way they live because of gun-related violence. And some inner-city children sleep on the floor to stay out of the line of fire.

TODAY: The proliferation of guns.

MONDAY: Three thousand gun dealers.

TUESDAY: Forty-eight hours of gunfire.

WEDNESDAY: The police response.

THURSDAY: Children, guns and the future.

How the Poll Was Conducted

The Times Poll interviewed 2,619 adult Southern Californians, including 878 gun-owners and 1,741 non gun-owners, by telephone April 9-15. Telephone numbers were chosen from a list of all exchanges in Los Angeles, Orange, San Diego, Riverside, San Bernadino and Ventura counties. Random-digit dialing techniques were used to ensure that both listed and non-listed numbers had an opportunity to be contacted. Interviewing was conducted in either English or Spanish. Results were weighted slightly to conform with census figures for sex, race, age, education, household size and county size. The margin of sampling error for percentages based on the total sample is plus or minus 2 percentage points; for gun-owners, it’s plus or minus 4 percentage points; for non gun-owners, it’s plus or minus 3 percentage points. For certain subgroups, the margin of error is somewhat higher. Poll results can also be affected by other factors such as question wording and the order in which questions are presented.

The Final Toll

Although the number of people killed by guns can be readily determined, no local, state or national agency keeps records on the number of people who are wounded.

To derive the total number of people shot in Los Angeles County, The Times consulted the county coroner’s office and surveyed all 92 hospitals with round-the-clock emergency rooms: Total treated at emergency rooms including fatalities: 1990: 7,988 1991: 8,050 Died at scene: 1990: 588* 1991: 622* Total killed or wounded by gunshot: 1990: 8,576 1991: 8,672 *This figure represents 40% of the annual number of gunshot fatalities in Los Angeles County. The coroner’s office estimates that the remaining 60% die at hospitals and, thus, would be included in the Times’ emergency room survey of gunshot cases.

The Busiest Hospitals

Here are the 10 hospitals that treated the most gunshot victims during the past two years.

1990 1991 Martin Luther King Jr./ Drew Medical Center 1,718 1,706 Los Angeles L.A. County/USC Medical Center 1,679 1,527 Los Angeles Harbor/UCLA Medical Center 450** 528 Torrance California Medical Center 220** 402 Los Angeles St. Francis Medical Center 350** 343 Lynwood Queen of Angels/Hollywood 252* 275 Presbyterian Medical Center Los Angeles Cedars-Sinai Medical Center 177 249 Los Angeles Long Beach Memorial Medical Center 234 249 Long Beach Hospital of the Good Samaritan 194** 235 Los Angeles White Memorial Medical Center 156 192 Los Angeles

** estimate.

Seven hospitals were unable to provide 1991 gunshot data: the Kaiser Foundation hospitals in Los Angeles, Harbor City and Woodland Hills; Methodist Hospital of Southern California in Arcadia; Pomona Valley Hospital; Pioneer Hospital in Artesia, and the now-defunct Panorama Community Hospital.

Compiled by researcher Tracy Thomas

How Dangerous Is L.A.?

By many measures, Los Angels County has become a more dangerous place--and use of guns is one of the primary reasons. Means of Death

Increasingly, gunfire is the most common means of homicide in Los Angeles County. 1970* Gunshot: 464 Stabbing: 157 Bludgeoning: 54 Strangling: 28 Other: 79

1980* Gunshot: 1,050 Stabbing: 312 Bludgeoning: 127 Strangling: 47 Other: 66

1991 Gunshot: 1,554 Stabbing: 197 Bludgeoning: 175 Strangling: 40 Other: 96 Homicides: The Numbers

The percentage of homicides involving guns in Los Angeles County is climbing and is higher than the national average. LOS ANGELES:

1970* 1980* 1991 Total homicides 782 1,602 2,062 Rate per 100,000 inhabitants 11.1 21.4 23.3 Percentage committed by gunshot 59% 65% 75%

NATIONWIDE:

1970* 1980* 1991 Total homicides 13,024 21,860 20,273 Rate per 100,000 inhabitants 7.9 10.2 9.4 Percentage committed by gunshot 64% 62% 64%

The Young Victims

Of all gunshot homicide victims in Los Angeles County, more than a quarter are 19 or younger. And for that age level, gunshots are increasingly the most common means of homicide. (109 youths) 1970* Gunshot: 56 Stabbing: 19 Bludgeoning: 10 Strangling: 6 Other: 18

(278 youths) 1980* Gunshot: 197 Stabbing: 43 Bludgeoning: 6 Strangling: 16 Other: 16

(518 youths) 1991* Gunshot: 412 Stabbing: 34 Bludgeoning: 18 Strangling: 6 Other: 48 The Road or the Gun

Unlike the rest of the country, in Los Angeles County more people die from gunshots than from traffic accidents. LOS ANGELES:

1970* 1980* 1991 Vehicular deaths 1,154 1,477 1,215 Rate per 100,000 inhabitants 16.4 19.8 13.7 Gunshot homicides 464 1,050 1,554 Rate per 100,000 inhabitants 6.6 14 17.5

NATIONWIDE:

1970* 1980* 1991 Vehicular deaths 54,600 53,200 47,880** Rate per 100,000 inhabitants 27.4 22.9 19.1** Gunshot homicides 8,391 13,650 13,035 Rate per 100,000 inhabitants 5 6 5.2

* denotes fiscal years ** denotes 1990 data Sources: FBI, L.A. County Department of Coroner; U.S. Census; National Center for Health Statistics

Guns: A Glossary

The world of guns and firearms-related violence has its own language. Here are a few terms and definitions:

Bust a cap (also “cap one off”)--To fire a shot.

Caliber--Diameter of a barrel or a bullet as measured in millimeters or hundredths of inches. A .25-caliber bullet, for example, is about one-quarter inch in diameter.

FFL--Federal firearms license holder.

Full-auto--A weapon that continues to fire as long as the trigger is depressed. A machine gun.

Gauge--Diameter of a shotgun barrel. Also slang for a shotgun.

Jack--To rob at gunpoint.

Nine--Common street description of a 9-millimeter pistol, as in, “He’s got a nine.”

Pistol--A single-shot or semiautomatic handgun.

Revolver (also “wheelgun,” “hog leg,” “six shooter”)--A handgun in which bullets are loaded into a cylinder that turns mechanically each time the trigger is pulled.

Roscoe (also “gat,” “piece”)--A gun.

Saturday night special--A short-barreled, inexpensive pistol or revolver readily available on the street.

Semiautomatic--A gun that fires one bullet and automatically inserts another in the firing chamber with each pull of the trigger.

Stippling--Gunpowder burns often tattooed on the skin of victims shot at close range.

Strapped (also “packing”)--To carry a gun, as in, “The man’s strapped.”

Ten ring--Police jargon for a bull’s-eye, as in, “They shot him in the ten ring.”

Through-and-through--Wound in which a bullet passes into and out of the body.