Televised police chase lifts head out of sand

By Monica SerafinSummer Bruin Columnist

"Police led on car chase from Pacific Avenue and Brighton Street
in Burbank" – CLICK – "Uh, it appears that the third wheel is
missing, but it is possible that this truck is a dually and might
have another one" – CLICK – "We’re not sure if there’s one or two
passengers, but two shots have been fired at police from the left
side" – CLICK – "For the past hour police have been on pursuit of
this battered delivery truck, and have done a fine job protecting
innocent drivers from possible collisions" – CLICK – "It appears
that the police have some specific strategy as to protect …"

June 16 marked the one year anniversary of O.J. Simpson’s
Interstate Highway 405 tour. One year ago, I was in the process of
moving out of my Sproul Hall dorm room. I unpacked my microscopic
television with its wire hanger antenna and our floor had its last
television party.

Never mind moving, Dad was on his way to pick me up and the
traffic was moving nowhere. The freeways Simpson used are the exact
ones my father preferred as he left Garden Grove. I could
practically hear my mother screaming, all the way from Orange
County, as O.J. and his entourage approached Sunset Boulevard.
"Don’t turn right! Don’t you dare turn right!"

Maybe she feared Simpson would turn right, enter Sproul and take
me hostage. The nation came together as we simultaneously smirked
"guilty" while that ever-famous white Bronco and police entourage
graced almost every channel.

Last Monday, while we were all glued to the television, once
again relying on the newscopters and Channel 7’s "award-winning
on-the-scene reporting," one couldn’t help but make a connection to
the more infamous of police pursuits. Running, no matter what
speed, is deemed an admittance of guilt, and when it’s televised
… superstardom.

"What’s he guilty of?"

"Maybe he’s the leader of a drug cartel and that truck has
millions of dollars worth of cocaine. He uses the unmarked, beat-up
truck in order to keep a low profile, you know, FBI."

"Maybe – ooh, I got it! He’s paying homage to O.J. Simpson and
making the trek back to Nicole Brown Simpson’s parent’s residence
in Orange County. He’s on a political journey and it’s
televised."

I’ve been home for only a few days. For the past month I had
been living in a blissful state of media apathy. What? Jeffrey
Dahmer was murdered? What? Michael Jackson is still married?

At the end of each quarter, I usually find myself lost in a sea
of couch, taking in everything one channel at a time. It takes a
while to ease back into a society that isn’t bordered with
peach/mauve bricks like UCLA.

At times we are very sheltered. We don’t know how to react to
the leather glove incident. Any sudden onslaught of sensationalized
media throws us a bit out of sorts or draws us in deeper. We are
stuck in the media game.

"I hope he’s not Latino," I whisper.

Mom hears me and offers a coin flip, but we both know that the
chances aren’t fifty-fifty. This is a live broadcast, the networks
haven’t had a chance to take affirmative action into account to
increase and enforce negative stereotypes of Latinos and African
Americans.

Live broadcast – he could be any color. Criminals come in every
color and ethnicity. The reporters have speculated that there might
be a passenger, too. Please let at least one be, say … French
American; there aren’t enough bad images of them in the media.

All four of us, three in Orange County and one in Inglewood, are
joined together watching (like idiots) two cars move at 30 miles
per hour. Please God, let him not be Latino.

With all of the empty air time and no facts, the newscasters
resort to nearly two hours of police praise. "Ooh, look how the
police department has the situation under control; the suspect is
not going to get out of this one … the police must have some plan
for this one; they are moving slow to prevent unnecessary injuries
of innocent drivers."

Wasn’t it just a couple of weeks ago that people were killed
because of a high-speed police chase? Wasn’t Rodney King in a
high-speed chase? Why are they getting credit for the slow pace?
Isn’t the battered truck missing a wheel? I’ve heard stories about
three-legged dogs, but a three-wheeled truck?

At 10 p.m. my parents called it a day. The driver’s ethnicity
was no longer important and neither was the name of the drug aiding
his delusion. He was just another media honey, another display of
"quick on-the-scene reporting." It takes professional journalists
to find news-breaking speculation to fill up two-and-a-half hours;
they even bumped "The Maury Povich Show."

The show ended at Long Beach and Vernon, far from any
possibility of a would-be glamorous tribute to O.J. Simpson. The
driver was not part of a huge cocaine cartel. The truck was not
stolen.

It turns out that the driver panicked when a park ranger
attempted to correct him as he drove the wrong way down a one-way
street. The ranger claimed it was a common mistake. But a
two-and-a-half hour chase? The driver’s mother said that he had
just been released from prison and was fearful of returning.

Oh yeah, he is Latino, and he was smoking marijuana … (sigh) –
CLICK.

Serafin is a third-year English/American studies student and the
Assistant Viewpoint Editor.

Televised police chase lifts head out of sand