AFTER THE VERDICTS : From the Heart of the City : For our town, the waiting is over. What do the verdicts mean today, and what : will they mean for our tomorrows? Three perspectives on the day of decision. : Verdicts Can’t End Fear, but a United City Might

Although the verdicts were a quick fix for our immediate anxieties, they did not relieve Los Angeles of the fear of violence that has become part of our daily lives.

It has been the underlying theme of the race for mayor. And the winner of that election may well be determined by how the candidates address this fear.

It was this anxiety--heightened by the fear of another riot--that had held us hostage until shortly after 7 a.m. Saturday. And when the verdicts were announced at the Edward R. Roybal Federal Building, relief flowed through L. A. and beyond.

In Koreatown, one of the neighborhoods most damaged in last spring’s riots, business people quietly opened their shops. I talked to a couple boarding a tour bus. They felt secure enough to leave their homes for an overnight excursion to Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon. Near Compton, another place hit hard last spring, congregants relaxed over breakfast at New Mt. Calvary Baptist Church, where they’d been on alert as leaders of the “Keep It Good in the ‘Hood” peace movement.

But church member Jewel Williams said the verdicts did more than ease the tension of the day. She viewed them as “a call to the community to come together, sit at the table” and deal with the crime, drugs and unemployment that have made L. A. a troubled place.

Think of it this way. Certainly you won’t go to an ATM at night, no matter where you live. And if late this evening you find you need a quart of milk for breakfast, you may be afraid to go to the market. You’ll wait until morning when you’ll have to squeeze the trip to the store into the brief time reserved for getting yourself and the kids ready for the day.

The fear of violence predates the riots, the King beating and the subsequent police trials, although those events heightened the existing fears.

Times polls have long showed that residents consider crime L.A.’s major problem. And it’s important to note that the feeling cuts across racial lines, a fact ignored by politicians who choose to make crime a racial issue as George Bush did in 1988 with the infamous Willie Horton ad. Remember that? It featured a black criminal who raped a white woman.

The lives of all races are blighted by crime in L.A. An October, 1992, Times survey showed that 38% of Anglos, 37% of blacks, 51% of Latinos and 52% of Asians cited crime as the most important problem facing Los Angeles. Crime ranked highest for all racial groups except blacks. They listed unemployment first and crime second.

I saw how this fear worked at the street level last Wednesday night when I accompanied mayoral candidate Michael Woo on a campaign stop on Alfred Street in West Los Angeles’ racially mixed South Carthay district. Woo walked north, past South Carthay’s distinctive two-story Spanish Colonial Revivalist apartments, campaigning among residents who had come outside on a pleasant spring evening. I lagged behind, talking to people.

Alfred Street, I learned, can’t forget the violence of the first full day of the riot, Thursday, April 30. Resident Walter Dominguez and his wife, Shelley, who remembered watching as well-organized looters--mostly African-Americans, but some Anglos--hit the Radio Shack store across their back alley, on La Cienega Boulevard, just north of Pico Boulevard. Armed lookouts stood guard for the looters, who emptied the contents of the store into waiting trucks and vans. One of them threatened Shelley Dominguez with a gun when she shouted, “You ought to be ashamed of yourself.” Then the Radio Shack was torched.

Residents tried to stop the fire with garden hoses. Dominguez and a neighbor, who is African-American, stood side by side battling the flames racing through the Radio Shack, a market, a tropical fish store and a Baskin-Robbins. All were destroyed.

This Saturday morning, Shelley Dominguez tended her roses and a neighbor held a yard sale across the street. Alfred Street was at peace--for now.

It might be an allegory for Los Angeles, something to draw on for ideas and principles for the difficult months ahead. I especially commend it to the mayoral candidates.

The first lesson of Alfred Street is that the city is a frightening place. Long after Saturday’s verdicts recede to the back pages of the newspapers, Alfred Street residents will think twice about walking to the drug store at night.

Another lesson comes from the street’s multiracial defense against a racially mixed gang of criminals. Bigotry doesn’t sell here. Candidates better not try to peddle Willie Horton ads to these Angelenos.

There’s something else. After the first day of the 1992 riots, residents, with no police in sight, had put up their own barricades to protect the street. Before Saturday’s verdict, they stored water and food and organized a telephone tree.

Fear and friendship forged these men and women into a constructive force. All of L.A. can learn from that.