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Jill LeovyA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
The Tennelles had three children: DeeDee, Wally Jr., and Bryant. While all three were considered to be good kids, DeeDee and Wally Jr. did well in school, whereas Bryant, who suffered from attention deficit disorder, struggled. He “had abilities, just not academic ones,” such as his love for animals and his talent at building things (99). Wally and Yadira tried to work with him, and Bryant tried as well, but “[y]ear after year,” he ended up “scraping by in school, burning through his parents’ money for remedial help, falling behind, staying behind” (100). By the time he got to high school, his behavior was no longer an issue; however, academics still eluded him, and he eventually failed out of high school.
Wally Tennelle was aware of the dangers of the neighborhood, even as he steadfastly stood by his decision to raise his children there. He tried to teach his sons how to get by in South Central LA. Wally Jr., having “experienced South Central at the end of the Big Years as only young black men did,” was himself aware of the risks and much more cautious (104). However, Bryant, younger, had grown up in a time of relative peace, and as a result was much more fearless and dismissive of the precautions extolled by his father and brother.
Bryant had grown up knowing relatively few people in his neighborhood, but as he grew older, this changed. As the Tennelles did, Bryant’s friends adored the charismatic teen while simultaneously worrying about his relative naivete. One friend, Joshua Henry, “tried to teach Bryant the unwritten rules” as Bryant’s father and brother had, and even “tried to teach him lessons” (105). However, none of it seemed to faze him.
Once Bryant turned 18, his parents continued to suggest things to him, but no longer mandated them. They grew worried as he began hanging around girls, piercing his ears, and developing “a little hip-hop style” (106). At one point, his license was suspended, which meant he found himself hanging out more and more with other kids from around the neighborhood, including so-called “affiliated” kids—“youths who weren’t necessarily criminal or violent but were inclined or obliged to be on friendly terms with the gang” (106). To these kids, Bryant was “a visitor from some exotic shore”: he didn’t drink or fight, he didn’t know anything about gangs, didn’t know how to kiss a girl, and was punctual for his shifts at work (107). Strangest was that he avoided conflict, as “[a]ppearing weak was dangerous,” and many South Central men saw conflict aversion as a sign of weakness (107). Bryant’s new friends sought to toughen him up, to no real avail.
Though Bryant still was not involved in anything problematic, his family’s concern grew thanks to his new circle, including his new girlfriend, Arielle Walker. DeeDee began actively searching for city jobs for Bryant. Wally Tennelle refused to tell Bryant what to do, but he observed from up close and monitored from afar in his capacity as a police officer. The two had strains, but remained close. Wally worried, but it was clear, still, that Bryant was not a gangster, and he believed him when he said that his associations were about building bikes and nothing more.
Bryant finally completed his GED; around the same time, DeeDee had helped him secure a job with the parks department. Things were falling into place. The Friday before he was to begin his new job, on May 11th, he went for a walk with Walter Lee Bridges to buy a root beer.
When the shooting happened, Wally and Yadira were home, but did not hear the gunshots. Arielle saw the cluster, saw Bryant on the ground, and grabbed his hat to bring to his mother; Wally was outside and saw Arielle first, and immediately knew what had happened. Wally told Yadira what had happened, then got into his car to drive to the scene.
Bryant, still breathing, was rushed to the hospital; the family soon followed, arriving as soon as they were able. Bryant’s doctor, Bryan Hubbard, had been a trauma surgeon during the Big Years; he “and his colleagues were the medical equivalent of the Tennelles, Gordons, and Skaggses of the LAPD […] high-energy perfectionists who had learned their craft in the age of the great homicide epidemic” and had even trained military medics due to their experience (115). Despite his experience, though, Bryant passed away.
Through all of it, Wally Tennelle maintained an unusual calm. At the crime scene, he had shifted into detective mode, observing the scene and taking mental notes; at the hospital, he remained calm and stoic as he received the bad news, even offering Bryant’s former teacher, Brother Reiter, a ride home. DeeDee and Wally Jr. likewise experienced the grief in strange ways, the former finding something faintly comic about her grandmother’s manic reaction, the latter surprised he had been able to sleep through the night, “unfamiliar with the way a breathless, suspended state of shock precedes grief” (118).
Chris Barling had first attended the scene of the crime, then went to the hospital to talk with Arielle. The murder scene was “packed with brass,” including David Garrido of Southwest Division, Lyle Prideaux of RHD, and Charlie Beck, the future LAPD chief. News spread quickly, as did the fight over who would get the case. The decision fell to Pat Gannon, homicide commander in South Bureau, who had known Wally for twenty years. RHD wanted the case, but Gannon was concerned that giving it to RHD might suggest special treatment, as it was not the kind of case RHD would normally handle. In the end, he gave it to Armando Bernal, of the 77th Division.
Bryant Tennelle’s murder came in the midst of a spree of killings south of the Ten—some spurred by previous arguments or vendettas, others seemingly unconnected to anything else, including innocents. Skaggs was now working with Marullo full-time, and the two were working on a 100% clearance rate that year. However, “[c]hange was coming”: the homicide bureaus were going to be consolidated, so Skaggs sought a promotion to a supervisory position; Barling, too, had taken a temporary supervisory position elsewhere (124). La Barbera was confident that Marullo was capable of picking up the slack; however, they were less certain about Marullo’s friend Kouri, whom Skaggs had not had as much of an opportunity to mentor.
On June 15th, Centennial High School in Compton held its graduation. Barbara Pritchett’s daughter, Dwaina, would be graduating; her son, Dovon, also attended Centennial, but was trying to catch a bus home after being let out early. However, when a gang fight broke out, Dovon got on a bus to get out of the area along with a couple of affiliated boys. Derrick Washington, who had been called to the fight by his sister, followed the bus to Nickerson Gardens; when Dovon and his friends got off the bus, Derrick fired and Dovon was hit.
Barbara arrived at the hospital to find her youngest child on life support; his father, Duane Harris, flew in from out of town. Dovon had been shot in the head and would never awaken from his coma, but he remained on life support for several days while his family made their peace with it. Skaggs visited the hospital while Dovon was still on life support; Barbara insisted on showing him Dovon in order to “shake [him] from the indifference she presumed he harbored” (128), and Skaggs went along with it. He and Marullo were already working on the case, with Kouri to join later.
Skaggs and Kouri traced the shooting to Centennial High and to Angela and Derrick Washington. They had heard rumors that Derrick had confessed to Angela. In an interview, initially, Angela had denied it; however, she eventually spilled her brother’s confession.
After the set-up work of Part 1, Part 2 moves into the narrative of Bryant Tennelle’s death, murder investigation, and court proceedings; this narrative is punctuated, as with before, by a larger discussion of crime in the black community, police bureaucracy, and additional cases, such as the case of Dovon Harris. Bryant’s case is interesting because of the way so many forces intersect: two homicide detectives with very similar personalities, one experiencing loss from the other side for the first time, and the unique way the LAPD chose to handle the case. Dovon Harris serves as a specific counterpoint, however—Bryant’s case will ultimately show what can be done with tenacity and time, but Wally Tennelle didn’t need convincing that homicide detectives can do their jobs. Barbara Pritchett, on the other hand, does, and Dovon’s case will ultimately make Barbara a lifelong advocate of detectives’ capability of and willingness to solve murders in South Central—if the right detectives are involved, that is.
Perception is key through much of this. The book has previously played with larger perceptions—of police apathy, and of community apathy and acceptance of violence. These chapters set up a more specific understanding of perception, however, and how easily things can go off the rails in unexpected ways. Bryant, for example, was wearing an Astros hat—for many this would be innocuous, but in his specific neighborhood, this marked him as gang affiliated. To some extent, Bryant was certainly aware of this, as he said he wore the hat in order to attract girls. Still, though, it was a fashion accessory, not a real claim to gang affiliation, of which Bryant had none. Likewise, in the spate of killings during that same time period, Dion Miles got off the bus wearing red in a Crip neighborhood—the art student had no gang affiliation, but was killed nevertheless for an indiscretion he probably hadn’t even realized he had made.
Interestingly, in the same section in Chapter 12 outlining the killings that took place following Bryant’s death, Leovy includes not only gang-related killings but also killings by police officers. Ghettoside was published in 2015, two years after the founding of Black Lives Matter, and while Leovy does not specifically reference this movement (in fact, the topic of the book is often used as a counterpoint in debates surrounding police force), it’s hard not to see a kind of equivocating happening there. The book frequently draws parallels between gangs and police, discussing ways the police adopt gang mannerisms and jargon, and vice versa. When spates of killings are discussed, it’s usually in the context of gangs seeking retaliation against one another; by including police killings, that frame is echoed here.