Rising Crime Rate Underscores Hanford’s Loss of Innocence

Small-town Hanford has lost some of its innocence.

Some of the 33,000 residents of this quiet San Joaquin Valley farming community say they now lock their doors and are careful where they walk, especially after dark.

Crimes increased 41% from 1987 to 1991, many of them thefts, Police Chief Brian DeCuir said.

And residents are feeling the effects.

“My husband just said to me last night, ‘I think you need to keep the door locked,’ ” said Sue Gonzales. It is a habit she will have to learn after living in Hanford for 27 years with her front door unlocked.

Joy Edwards extended the hours of security guard service in the early morning and late night hours for the local College of the Sequoias center. A student walking to class was chased by a man a month ago; hubcaps have been stolen from a parking lot behind the campus, and a car window was smashed.

But other factors continue to speak of a small town.

The city has averaged only two homicides a year for the last decade even though the population has increased by more than 10,000, DeCuir said.

And there appear to be reasons for most local crimes, unlike the senselessness of crimes reported in larger cities.

“In the Bay Area, you find a person killed, and you don’t really know why they died,” said Patrick Hart, a Kings County deputy district attorney who previously worked as defense attorney in the San Francisco area. “Sometimes it takes weeks to identify the victim.”

People in Hanford don’t push aside the violence in their community after they fold up the daily newspaper and drain their coffee cup.

At each of 11 parole hearings for convicted killer Booker T. Hillery, thousands of people signed petitions against his release. He remains behind bars 30 years after the murder of a teen-age Hanford girl.

“People don’t forget,” said Mike Boschetti, a 46-year resident. “You’re anonymous in a big city. In Hanford people know who you are.”

This community inspired enough fear in Larry Spanke that he tried to buy a gun for protection after being released from the California Youth Authority in January. Spanke was convicted with two friends for aiding in the 1983 murders of Ray and Gayle Yocum, the parents of his friend, Kevin Yocum. Spanke agreed to drive the getaway car for $7,000, part of the $3.5-million Yocum inheritance in which their son expected to share.

“The Yocum thing was sensational. We had never seen anything like it,” Boschetti said. The incident marked a loss of innocence for this town, he said.