Newsletter: Great Reads: A town (and a band) named Calexico
Hi there. I'm Kari Howard, and I edit the Great Reads (a.k.a. Column Ones) for the Los Angeles Times.
Two of my biggest loves are narrative journalism and music, and I'm lucky that my days are filled with both: When reading the stories, I get inspired by songs I think fit the article's theme — a soundtrack.
Here are the Great Reads (and some lowercase great reads) of the past week, plus their soundtracks.
From the LAPD to Calexico — there's a new cop in charge
Former LAPD official Mike Bostic is a man driven by his strong faith in two things: Christianity and himself. But will it be enough to take on Calexico, a border town where, some say, a group of veteran cops were running the police department like a fiefdom, taking home big overtime checks while very little police work was getting done? The story has the vibe of an old Western, with a new sheriff in town. "They believed they were untouchable," he says. "They still believe it, even since I've arrived. They've been protected for so long."
A sign on Highway 111 at the Calexico crossing into Mexico warns against weapons and ammo. Some say the border city's Police Department has long been run like a fiefdom. (Don Bartletti / Los Angeles Times)
The soundtrack: "Frontera/Trigger," by Calexico. Of course I had to go with Calexico. And this song (well, two songs combined, actually) is perfect. It could be a soundtrack to a nouveau Western.
"La libertad," says Sister Sharon. The young mother repeats it: "La libertad."
Eleven months ago, a 25-year-old Salvadoran mother named Karen was detained after illegally crossing the U.S. border with her daughter, Joanna, to work and pay for her mother's breast cancer treatment. Today, she is finally being freed. And Sister Sharon Altendorf is there waiting for her. And waiting. And waiting. Hours later, Karen and Joanna walk out of the center. Lovely bit here by Molly Hennessy-Fiske: "Karen closes her eyes and soaks it in. "La libertad," the nun says, and Karen repeats after her, like a prayer." Volunteers like Sister Sharon are a constant in the lives of the detainees, to help them survive the uncertainty.
Sister Sharon Altendorf hugs 8-year-old Joanna as the girl and her mother, Karen, await their bus in San Antonio. They are bound for Amarillo, Texas, where they will stay with a host family. (Molly Hennessy-Fiske / Los Angeles Times)
The soundtrack: "Freedom," by Pharrell Williams. It's visceral, how he screams "Freedom!" Although I never got on the "Happy" bandwagon, I did go through a period of listening to "Come Get It Bae" on repeat last year.
He uses dishwater to keep his late wife's favorite roses alive
I'm a bit torn on my favorite #DrylandsCA post this week. The ballad of Carl and Whitey was the most classic Diana Marcum yarn. (Favorite line: "He said he’s outlived all his ex-wives except the one in prison for killing two of her husbands.") But my heart belongs to the story of Ronald Bretherton, an 85-year-old widower who is trying to keep his late wife's favorite roses alive in the drought by watering them with used dishwater. Ronald said he’d always liked roses because “it’s important to give women something pretty.” Sigh.
Ronald Bretherton, 85, in his garden of roses in Butte County, California. (Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)
The soundtrack: "Good Year for the Roses," by George Jones. "A lip print on a half-filled cup of coffee that you poured and didn't drink/But at least you thought you wanted it, and that's so much more than I can say for me." Wow, what a lyric. (And even though I'm a big Elvis Costello fan, his cover doesn't compare to the original.)
A transgender man reaches for a new life — and his Muslim faith
This story by Garrett Therolf about a young transgender man who embraces his Muslim faith is beautifully told. I loved the top of the story: "He walked unsteadily across the tattered green carpet inside the mosque. Out of habit, he stepped for a moment toward the women’s section. Then he made his way to the front, where the men pray. In one sense, everything felt familiar after a childhood spent in Islamic Sunday school every week: the smell of strong cologne worn by so many of the men, the low murmur of Koran recitations. 'Can they tell?' Alex Bergeron recalls asking himself as he knelt for prayer." But the question remained: Could Alex be transgender and Muslim at the same time?
Alex Bergeron wears his father's kaffiyeh around his neck in San Francisco. (Don Bartletti / Los Angeles Times)
The soundtrack: "How Soon Is Now," by the Smiths. Thought this refrain really fit the story: "I am human and I need to be loved/Just like everybody else does." (Oh, and one of the best openings of a song. Ever. All hail Johnny Marr.)
What I'm reading
L.A. Times alum Ashley Powers has an absolutely wonderful story in the California Sunday magazine about right-wing extremists who call themselves "sovereigns," living and plotting on the fringes of Las Vegas. They're like characters from a Quentin Tarantino movie. Love this line: "It was a Vegas of frustrations and resentments, of second and third chances squandered — the Strip’s opulence in sight, but always out of reach."
This week I stumbled across the California Digital Newspaper Collection website when looking for some cool vintage stories about the Oroville Dam. As the site proclaims: a freely accessible repository of digitized California newspapers from 1846 to the present. Be still, my heart! I learned about water wars from the early 20th century in which one side actually blew up a dam! Almost as fun as the stories were the ads next to them — a time capsule.
What's on my bedside table
When I don't have enough time to settle in with a novel, I'll open this book of poetry by Jack Gilbert at any page and read for a bit. Yesterday I read "Michiko Dead," which movingly describes the changing weight of grief. (Puts into beautiful words what I've felt.) Here's the beginning, but I urge you to click on the link and read the end.
He manages like somebody carrying a box
that is too heavy, first with his arms
underneath. When their strength gives out,
he moves the hands forward, hooking them
on the corners, pulling the weight against
his chest.
What's on my turntable
Although I spend most of my time listening with headphones to Spotify, sometimes I want to hear the needle touching down on vinyl. That's why I have a turntable in my office — and two at home (one inside, and a battery-powered one outside when the weather's fine — which it usually is in Southern California). This week's vinyl: "Horses," by Patti Smith, and the soundtrack to a cheesy '60s movie called "Jessica." I bought these two at the thrift store last week, and was struck by the two images of femininity: the mannish (and impossibly cool) Smith and the curvy Angie Dickinson, in a leering illustration that showed her in short shorts and high heels astride a Vespa. This happy coincidence made me give a little cheer for a world that finds beauty in both.
Want to chat? Have a great idea for a Great Read? I'm @karihow on Twitter and kari.howard@latimes.com on email.
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