The City Attacked Me!

The e-management team of Baldwin Park attacked me yesterday and today.  All of you, who personally know me, you know that this is real.  I am asking, that you please email the following people and tell them: "Stop your bullying!"

llara@baldwinpark.com, vsinghal@baldwinpark.com, lhadsell@baldwinpark.com,

mlozano@baldwinpark.com, mgarcia2@baldwinpark.com, monica_garcia@baldwinpark.com, rpacheco@baldwinpark.com, srubio@baldwinpark.com

Part of the purpose of this post is to educate other concerned members of their community.  We don't need to tolerate such behavior.  We don't need to be afraid.  We do need to stand up for ourselves, though.

Start of letter.

Re: City Attack Against Paul Cook – First Amendment Retaliation

Dear Human Resources Manager, Leticia Lara; City Manager, Vijay Singhal; and Chief of Police Lili Hadsell:

This letter is to inform you of a serious concern.  The City of Baldwin Park retaliated against me twice illegally on July 9, 2013 and today on July 10, 2013.

The underlying facts are that I contacted an ex-employee of the City who had potential knowledge of allegations of corruption about Baldwin Park.  As a result, I was told by several informants (whose identity must remain anonymous for their protection) that she stated she was uncomfortable to the HR Manager.  The HR Manager told the City Manager, who contacted the Chief of Police – who had her acting lieutenant contact me.

I made a phone call.  I found the ex-employee’s number in the White Pages.  I asked questions.  For this, I was made to feel intimidated from the Baldwin Park Chief of Police.  As a free citizen of this country of the United States of America, do I not have the right to ask questions and to call people?

Because I felt so violated, I went today to City Hall.  I wished to file a complaint against the City Manager, the HR Manager, and the Chief of Police.  When the HR Manager arrived, I informed her in an assertive manner that she had retaliated against me and my First Amendment Rights.  She told me no grievance process existed for employee complaints, except for property damage that city employees have committed.  I explained to her that she needed to be educated.  She stated that she needed no education from me.  I said that she did because she obviously didn’t understand what First Amendment retaliation meant.  She said that my assertive manner was threatening, so she was called the police against me.  Once again, I felt bullied and intimidated.

I waited.  Two police officers arrived.  They witnessed as I told the HR Manager that I have the right to make a phone call and to ask questions.  That the Chief of Police shouldn’t call me for activity that is not illegal.  She explained that she was threatened by me.  I asked her, in front of all the witnesses what I did that was threatening.  She said it was my tone of voice and how I approached the counter.  That was all.  

I explained to her that she needed to learn better about the Constitution.  That we did not live in a third world country.  That this was the United States of America and that the First Amendment protects the Exercise of Free Speech.  That what she did was retaliatory in measure.  The irony being that her second call to the police was also retaliatory of my First Amendment Right to address the grievance of her first violation and the violation of the City Manager and Chief of Police.  I finally stated that if this happens again, I will make a report to the Attorney General’s Office.

Leticia then denied that she had done any wrong.

The police escorted me down.  Asked what my point was.  I explained it simply, “To let them know I have rights and to not trample on them again.”  The male officer took my driver’s license, and justified it by saying there was a suspect that looked like me at Parks and Recreation.  I find this hard to believe, since I’m Korean-American and I live in 90% dominated Hispanic community. In any event, he recorded my driver’s license information.   I asked the officer if I was under arrest.  When he said no, I asked him if I could leave.  He said I could.

I was told by informants later that the HR Manager actually pushed a “panic button” because I told her I had rights.  What this panic button does, I’m not sure.  But I was thankful that it was broken that day and a service order was requested to fix it.

I have several concerns with this situation.  The first one is I ask that the City no longer bully me or any of its citizens for asking questions or contacting people.  We live in a free country and the Constitution, under the First Amendment prohibits such behavior clearly.

The second one is that I have concerns regarding the fitness and competence of this HR Manager Leticia Lara.  She obviously didn’t know federal law.  She didn’t want to learn it.  Furthermore, core functions of human resources are to listen to grievances, deescalate conflicts, and to respect the rights of employees, and in my case, citizens.  Here, Leticia called the police for a disagreement.  Also, she no longer has a duty that runs to an ex-employee.  The employee no longer works for the City.  Furthermore, how could there be no grievance process for City employees?  Such actions and decisions reflect poorly on the judgment of a HR Manager, especially one that is compensated at least $100,000 per annum.

 In fact, the behavior of these three in e-management team is unfitting for how they have treated me in my homecoming to Baldwin Park.  Why does a Chief of Police and City Manager have to use their time sorting out legal and warranted activity?  All I wanted to know is why the City has no money for its treasured and beloved boxing program.

The third concern I have is that there are allegations and rumors that this type of behavior has happened over and over again to citizens of my city by these three in the e-management team, who do not live in Baldwin Park.  Such behavior definitely produces a chilling effect on asking questions about the City.

I demand an apology from all three of these members of the e-management team, and especially from Leticia Lara.  I also ask that I, nor any resident of my city, ever be retaliated, bullied, or intimidated again.

This is a notice of warning.  Next time, I will have to escalate matters to the Attorney General and take further action.

This letter has been posted on several forums and emailed to the LA Times and the San Gabriel Tribune, and the National Lawyers Guild.

Yours truly,

Paul Cook

Victim of First Amendment Retaliation, Former Valedictorian of Baldwin Park, Baldwin Park Boxer, Attorney at Law, Concerned Citizen of Baldwin Park

Join the fight.  Share the story.  Send the message to stop the bullying!

Updated on 8/11/2013

As of now, nobody has apologized to me.  I criticized Vijay Singhal, City Manager, and Chief Lili Hadsell, at City Hall for violating my First Amendment Rights.  In fact, the City Attorney denied my allegations.  Two other citizens expressed concern that City Administrators violate First Amendment Rights too.  If you're outraged by this story, please continue to email the people above. 

Open Letter to the Director of Parks and Recreations

Dear readers,

If you're reading this, you probably know that "The Boxers" have taken up a fight against the "The City of Baldwin Park."

Our beloved Head Boxing Coach, Julian Casas and Luis Rosales, Assistant Boxing Coach, has decided to take a stand against their own director.  Imagine how hard it is to confront the big boss of your organization.  And at first, they decided to stay quiet and to not do anything.  But after 14 years of serving, Julian realized that enough is enough.  Poor decision after poor decision.  Mistreatment of staff, again and again.  So, him and Luis took on a small issue but decided that they and the boxing program needed to be heard.  Their courage needs to be commended.  Imagine how hard this would be for you to do.

This week, the Director of Parks and Recreations has implemented changes to our program that make him look like he is fixing the problem.  But in reality, it's like an accounting trick.  We need our Thursdays back.  To make that happen, he's cut an hour from Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday and given us a three hour Thursday.  This is like the right hand taking from the left hand and making sure the left hand doesn't know.  The Boxers know.  We don't like this cooking-the-books kind of practice.

Below, I have provided a list of email addresses to copy and paste.  Please tell the director, Councillors, and mayor of our city that this deceptive practice needs to stop and to please give our Thursdays back.  It hardly costs anything.

Join the fight.  Share the story.  Email the people below.

* * *

7/9/2013

Re: New Boxing Hours

Dear Manuel Carrillo Jr., Councillors, and Mayor:

Director Carillo, I am sorry that I have escalated the matter to also include the Councillors and Mayor.  Yet, as we all know, the boxers made the dying boxing program a public matter with the Baldwin Park City Council on June 19, 2013.

At that meeting, Paul Cook, representing the boxers, stated on the record that the new proposal for adding a Thursday back to the program, which was removed earlier this year, was not acceptable.  Nonetheless, Director Carrillo still went ahead and implemented this new schedule.  

All Director Carrillo has done is removed one hour from Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, and added three hours to Thursday.  Although it appears that we get the Thursday back, indeed, it does not solve the fundamental issue of having lost the five hours of training in the week by shutting Thursday down from this year’s schedule.  Furthermore, it is concerning that the Director of Parks and Recreation is trying to appear that he is fixing the problem, instead of really attempting to understand the program and the repercussions his decision has wrought on Baldwin Park’s boxing program and the at risk youth of the City who need it.

There are several critical problems with the new schedule.  One, the main problem is that although the coaches were told about the proposed schedule, they were not consulted in the matter.  For the record, I have coached for fourteen years for the boxing program.  I have never been consulted once by Director Carrillo on the Thursday and Friday cuts he made in the boxing schedule.  

It reflects once again on the director’s negligence in his duty to understand his portfolio of projects, in which boxing is one.  Instead, it does, however, show that Director Carrillo is trying to enhance his public image by illusorily fixing a more fundamental problem brought on by poor decision making.  

Two, the boxing staff have more work, which is uncompensated for.  It takes planning time to start and stop a class, and to do this for a three-hour-Thursday cannot justify such planning efforts, which again Director Carrillo expects us to do for free.

Director Carrillo, the Councillors and the Mayor, with the exception of Ricardo Pacheco, have intentionally ignored are many requests for help.  Director Carrillo, as well as the Councillors, have stated that the main problem with re-extending the boxing program is money. 

Therefore, I have proposed a clean solution.  1) Please reinstate our regular hours for Monday through Wednesday.  2) The boxing coaches have agreed Thursdays are important, that this program is important, and so we have agreed to volunteer our time for Thursday; hence, the City will not have to worry about the financial costs.  3) Please expedite the interview process for our third coach, since we are severely understaffed.  At times, we have had only two coaches for forty children.

May we please hear back before Monday, July 14, 2013 next week?  We know that your intention is in the best interest of the community. 

This letter has been made open to the public.

Sincerely,
Julian Casas

Head boxing coach, boxing coach for fourteen years, and proud citizen of Baldwin Park

Supported by Luis Rosales

Assistant boxing coach, four year member of the boxing program, and proud citizen of Baldwin Park

* * *
I'm proud of the boxing coaches who wrote this letter and took a stand.

Please copy and paste these email addresses and write to those in power to help our cause.  Thank you for joining our fight.

MCarrillo@baldwinpark.com, mlozano@baldwinpark.com, mgarcia2@baldwinpark.com, monica_garcia@baldwinpark.com, rpacheco@baldwinpark.com, srubio@baldwinpark.com

Updated on 8/11/2013

If you've been following the post, Carrillo has done nothing to fix our program in the seven weeks.  Sad.  In fact, we've discovered that the boxing program may most likely make a profit.  Therefore, he should have never cut it in the first place.  But then again, he doesn't practice standard accounting practices as he's conflated the boxing account in some strange general fund.  

The Informants Meet With "The Boxers"

After our debut at City Hall, the boxers became local heroes.  During the day, the city politicians, including the mayor and councilman wanted to take photos with the boxers.   But at night, it was a different story.  The knives came out.

The upset at City Hall sent a shock wave throughout the City, which pulsed throughout the citizens.  "The Boxers" had stood up to the City, and that message alone enabled others to have the courage to do the same.

I had a Taiwanese friend of mine tell me once - "Paul, you never know what happens behind closed doors."  It was after the following series of events that I realized this applies not only to households but to cities as well.

Julian, the head boxing coach, and I met with informants at diners and parking lots and at my house.  In one instance, we were invited to meet at the most hidden corner table at Denny's.  An informant began sharing with us about the years of history of city misappropriation of funds.  Listening to all the damning information about how the city politicians and management team spend and take our money came with a cocktail of emotions.  It was exciting and tantalizing, like hearing the most recent scandal.  And it was cool to know we were hearing it first, before it hit the press. But it was also angering and upsetting for us because all we could think about was how the City kept telling us it had no money.  It didn't have $1,500 a month for our little boxing club, but here we were being presented on the extravagant waste and theft of it.  We were talking about figures that went into the hundreds of thousands.  Even the waitress lingered around trying to snatch a piece of information here and there.  In the emptiness and solitude of that diner, she knew we were speaking of something important.

In another case, Julian and I met with another informant at a parking lot at midnight.  There was something definitely exhilarating about meeting with a secret spy who handed us a file, proving again the misappropriation of funds and again: waste.  It implicated so many of the politicians and the management team once again.

Then there were the phone calls.  People called us up to allege scandals that ranged from sexual misconduct to plain theft of city monies.  They gave us account numbers to research and funds to trace back and the businesses that were part of the racketeering scheme.  Where was the money?

I was told, by another informant, to meet with another person in the city, who then handed me another file of records.  When I leafed through it, I thought, What the hell?!!!  Are they truly doing this?  

Finally - people in the inner circle wanted to tell me things.  I felt like I was clergy.  I provided them a chance to confess their owns sins and wrongdoings and also to condemn others.  I hope absolution came to them.  I just listened and listened to the whispers of what happens in my sin city.

All this happened because the City said there was no money for our boxing program.  Why then was there so much money available for them?

Join the fight with the boxers against the City.  Share this story.

Updated on 8/11/2013:

More informants have still been coming forward since our City Hall meeting. 

The Baldwin Park Grand Showdown: The Boxing Club v. The City of Baldwin Park

 

The boxers of my City became small town heroes and local celebrities by taking on the City.  We were able to get the Mayor on the record to promise a meeting with me, their representative.  Now, I feel so run down with all the councillors, mayors, and local political leaders who want a meeting with me.  But just yesterday, we were nobodies.  Here's how we made our presence known.

The City has run down its own boxing program to shambles.  At one point, our boxing program has produced national champions and hosted tournaments, in which Shane Mosley, Fernando Vargas, and Oscar de la Hoya fought in.  Now we're open three days a week.  Now we can't produce fighters.  And the City still keeps cutting.

Why would it do it?  I mean the answer wasn't so obvious but after doing enough research and understanding the politics of the City, you find out that all roads lead back to one Council Member.  It takes three out of five votes to make anything in this City happen.  The Matron Council Member, controls the majority faction.  But why would she keep cutting from our program and where does it go?  

She likes to run the City like it's her home.  Not our City.  So, a little research reveals that she places her friends in power: such as the Chief of Police, the Director of Finances (come and gone), and others.  Matron Councillor's children are in the aquatics program.  Therefore, the boxing funds got cut and put into her children's program - aquatics.  

After coming back from Cabo San Lucas, many of the promises made by the director were not kept.  We were not getting funding from the city.  The City didn’t care about us.  So, it was time for mobilization, organization, and the exercise of the Freedom of Assembly and Speech.

We planned it out at my house - the whole thing.  It was in the living room, usually at evenings.  And as the leaders of the program and I met at my home, I felt the spirit of my father haunt me.  He used to sit in the living room with his business friends in the same chair I was sitting in.  

When I was a kid, I would run around the living room as a six year old.  His friends would give me money.  I would thank them.  They would pat my head.  My father would tell me that the adults were talking and to quiet down.  

When we planned our campaign against Baldwin Park in his chair, I felt a phantasmic, eerie feeling overcome me.  I was him and those at my roundtable were like his friends.  They were my small council.  But we were really nobodies.  We had no money, no real power.  I had no job.  But we had a cause: Bring Back Our Boxing Club!

At my small council, we were devising a strategy, and my boxing masters chimed in on what to do.  We would debate and listen and re-discuss.  It's been a long time since I've been a meeting in which I wasn't bored.  We were having way too much fun.

I printed out the boxing posters that have been attached above in the post.  I had all the kids sign it.  They would be gifts for the Mayor , the Councillors, and the Director of Parks and Recreation 

The director walked into the boxing gym before our presentation (or should I say demonstration).  He looked nervous.  He wasn't puffed up as usual.  He asked how everything was.

I saw him trying to assert himself against my boxing coaches.  But it wasn't working.  He knew we were up to something but didn't know what.

I walked over with a big smile on my face and said, "Hey you like our posters?  They're really nice.  Aren't they?"

"Yeah - they look really good."  He looked like he was sweating.

I told Luis, my boxing coach and organizer, get everyone to City Hall with the posters.  I changed out into my gym shorts.  I wore a sleeveless red shirt.  I put on my dog tags.  I asked Julian to wrap my hands in that mummy wrap.  Now, I looked like a boxer.

I met the boxers in front of the Council Chambers.  One girl said, "Paul, you didn't say we had to do public speaking?"

Another girl said, "Why did you tell us to come in our gym clothes?  It's embarrassing.  They're wearing suits."

A white guy, in a suit walked out of the Council Chamber.  He looked at me.  He looked disgusted at me and us.  He was the director of public works.

I said, "Don't worry.  It's alright.  We want to be in our gym clothes."

I could feel the tension in my group.  Many of them never did public speaking before.  Although most were kids and teenagers, even the men had very little experience speaking too.  I had to ease their tension.

I spoke to the group.  "Don't worry.  Have courage.  They can't do anything to us."  

Everyone listened.  

"I'll be there.  But I want you to remember why we're here.  We're here because we love our boxing program.  We're here because they've cut our boxing program and taken away one day after another.  And we're just going to let them know that it's not right."  

They nodded in silence.  

"I'll be up there for you.  So have courage.  Do not be afraid.  Speak from the heart."

When the public comments period opened up, I took the hand of a six year old boy and two little girls followed me down the isle to the podium.  I could see the eyes scanning my body, which was the point, by the way.  They had let themselves get fat.  I had stayed fit.  It was a message about the boxing program.  In their hands, the kids carried red boxing gloves.

The little boy went up first.  But he was paralyzed and couldn't speak.  One of the Council Woman in the minority power said, "It's ok.  Take your time."

But he got so shy, the girl went ahead of him.  She said her name and then said, "I love boxing."  We all clapped.

Then the little boy did speak.  And he said, "I love boxing."

Then the little girl spoke and said she loved boxing too.  I had the three of them sit in front row, where the Mayor and Councillors could see them.  I took the red boxing gloves from the kid's hands and hung them around my neck.  I would stand at the side of the podium, comforting the nervous speakers, while being in my boxing outfit and having gloves hang from my neck.  It made a statement.

Then from the back, one teenage boxer came after another.  It took time between each boxer, and that created an effect of silence, in which everyone in the room had to reflect on the words just spoken.  Although they were nervous, each teenager said their peace.

The statements ranged from, "Why are you cutting our program?" to "Boxing has changed my life."  

One fighter, someone in their thirties said, "I joined boxing for all the wrong reasons.  I wanted to learn to crush people.  But you know, because I had a program to come to, and it really did keep me off the streets and drugs."  

The last four speakers were special.  Luis, the boxing coach, came up and said, "I've been in the boxing program now for four years.  You don't know how much it's done for my life.  But now that I'm a coach, I wanted to let you know it's impossible to make a fighter while only having three days."

Then a retired coach, called the Chief came up to speak.  He addressed the Mayor and Councillors and said, "I've been coaching for 10 years at the program.  And it's a really good program."  He started shaking with emotion, so I put my hand on his shoulder.  Then he continued, "You know - we never said anything before.  I would continue coaching, but I have health problems now."  The guy invested so much of his own money into the program and took care of the kids because the City wouldn't.  "And I know that Carrillo does the best he can."  

During the whole demonstration, I watched a very stressed out director, who was constantly fidgeting his pen.  

"But we really can't go on like this with all these cuts."  His words were sparse but his life spoke volumes.  

When he left, a sports journalist, boxer, and producer took the podium.  He was different from the rest of us because he was white with blonde hair and blue eyes and he wore a suit.  He stated how he joined because of the tournaments.  How the surrounding cities have longer hours than us.  And how he remembered Shane Mosely, Oscar de la Hoya, and Bradley and Vargas coming through our gym.  Him mentioning the facts and his journalist-producer role threw them all back too.  

When he left, I moved a few inches to the right.  The one who was standing on the side now took the podium.  I stayed quiet for a few seconds to let the pain and presence settle with them.  Now it was time to speak in front of the King and his Court.  The few seconds of silence announced my presence in a way that only silence could do.

I said, "Good evening, Mayor and Councillors."  I paused again.  I had written three of them, who all refused to meet with me.  They all received my letter and now they could see the face that accompanied my name.  "I'm Paul Cook."  I smiled.  I knew four of five of them didn't have a college degree.  "I graduated from this town, Valedictorian of Sierra Vista High School.  I was a full scholar at UCLA with a degree in a bachelor of arts and a bachelor of science.  I have a Masters from New Zealand and juris doctorate from UCLA.  I am an attorney at law.  I'm disappointed Mayor and Mayor Pro Tem that you would  not meet with me.  So because you did not, I brought the boxing gym to you."  I paused again.  

"Let me tell you why the boxing gym is important to me.  When I came back to Baldwin Park, I had failed the bar because of a loved one of mine, who had cancer.  I asked myself what Baldwin Park had to offer.  I figured it was boxing.  I took it up for the psychological rebuilding and also the discipline.  But I found much, much more.  

"When I went to re-sit the bar in Culver City, Julian the head coach and a boxer accompanied me to see me off.  I felt like I was like a Native American going out for the hunt to prove myself before I could return back to my tribe.  They drove me all the way out to the West Side to wish me luck.  My own family would not do that for me."  

I paused again.  

"But they did.  My boxers were there for my celebration dinner as well.  I just wanted to let you know, not only did I pass one of the most difficult bar in California's history, in which it failed 60% of test takers, but my multiple choice score was at least in the top 20%.  Guess what?  There's only one person who passed the February bar that came from Baldwin Park.  That's me."  I paused again and my boxers clapped.  Then the Councillors clapped.

"Our boxing program has been run down to shambles.  We only need $1,500 a month to extend the hours.  Nonetheless, we are grateful for what we have.  I've brought gifts for you to thank you for the little you've given us."  

Six of my boxers, against protocol, crossed the Council area and gave a poster to each of the Councillors and Mayor.  I left it at that.  The management team, those who represent the King's court, didn't look too pleased with the boy in boxing shorts. 

The mayor then chimed in and said, "I love the boxing program.  I met Oscar de la Hoya in it long time ago."  He went on and defended himself and how he was going to support the program.  Then he said the golden promise, "This isn't the time to discuss the boxing program.  It's the public comments period.  But I will meet with you.  I promise."

"Are you telling me, Mayor," I said, "That you promise me on record for a meeting."

"Yes, Paul.  I will meet with you.  You will get back your Thursday."

But then the Matron Councillor retorted, "I disagree with the mayor.  We cannot give you back your Thursday, Mr. - Mr. - Mr. -"

"- Mr. Cook," I replied back.

"If we give you back your Thursday," she said, "then the swimmers and the basketball team could also ask for money.  We're just not going to do it.  You're lucky to have a boxing program in place."

I tried to utter some words but she said, "HEY YOU'RE BEING DISRESPECTFUL.  I listened to you when you -"

"I defer to you," I said.

"-spoke.  So listen to-"

"I defer."

The mayor came back in and said, "You know this is public comment's period.  We'll have to discuss this later.  You're only supposed to get three minutes anyways.  We've gone way over.  We will meet, Paul."  

"If I may just say one thing.  $1,500 is the cheapest amount you'll ever spend to keep kids off the street and to keep kids off of drugs.  The City lingo is always to be preventive and not reactive."  This awakened the management team. I knew the lingo consultants always pitched to them.  Word such as: preventative, proactive, and reactionary.  

I started again: "This is as preventive of a program that you can get.  It's better than having them already going through the system and having a record, and now I have to deal with it to clean it up so people can get jobs."

The Matron came back and said, "Every program can make the claims you're talking about.  Aquatics.  Basketball.  So we're just not going to increase the boxing budget.  You're lucky to have your boxing program."

At that point, I thought to myself, You don't get boxing.  Boxing gets the bad kids and the street kids.  The coaches give their lives to discipline and train them in a way that her pet program swimming can't.  

The Mayor asked the director what was going to be done.

The director said, "Well I have a plan to cut one hour out of Monday through Wednesday and put three hours back on Thursday."

I responded, "That's pretty clever.  That's like the left taking from the right hand but the right hand not knowing.  Guess what?  We know."

The director refused to respond.  The Mayor said, "That's enough.  We've went way over your speaking time, Paul.  We'll meet, as I said."

I said what I needed.  I grabbed the hand of the little boy and was ready to walk back with the two other kids, when Councillor of the minority faction said, "I wanted to thank you all for coming to us today."  She reminded me of Paula Abdul from American Idol.  "I know public speaking is so hard.  And even that little boy did it.  It's a really difficult skill.  So, I'm proud of all of you for bringing this to our attention.  And we would welcome you all back sometime."  While she was speaking, I turned around with the kids and stood at the podium.  I nodded, and said, "Thank you."

Another Councillor said, "I met with Paul.  I wanted to thank him for his efforts today.  We're working on ways to raise money for the boxing program."

I thanked him.

This forced the last Councillor, who was also the Mayor Pro Tem to speak.  She thanked me for coming back to Baldwin Park and my accomplishments, although she had to mention that Baldwin Park had a terrible reputation for creating successful people.

I finally took the kids and the boxers to the back of the room.  Before exiting, the bailiff grabbed me and said, "Paul, before you leave you need to see me."

I told him, "Ok, but let me talk to my boxers first."

Outside, there was this great sense of victory and empowerment.  I told my boxers, "You all did very well.  But I want to let you know this is the start, not the end.  We have to keep on going."  They left proud with their heads held up high.

I went to see the bailiff, who had information for me.  He even gave me a hug, and I was shocked.

Now to my faithful readers:Join our cause!  Spread the word of the BP Boxing Club's Fight against the City of Baldwin Park. 

More to come.

Updated on 8/11/2013:

This is the blog post that started off the viral journey.  Since then, the Director has done nothing for our program.  The Mayor lied and didn't meet with me  The boxers went back to City Hall.  Read about it here.  The Boxing Rematch Against the City 

My first short story published - AND ON MY BIRTHDAY TOO!

Without Remedy

An Original Short Story by Paul Cook

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KoreanAmericanStory.org announces its publication of Paul Cook’s first short story, Without Remedy, as a fitting work to commemorate the twenty-first anniversary of the Los Angeles Riots. Set in present day Los Angeles County’s San Gabriel Valley, Without Remedy chronicles the escalating tension between two families: one ex-gang Chicano and the other Korean. Fueled by misunderstandings and resentments, the two families battle to exert their will and dominance over their tiny plots of the American Dream. 

Telling the story through multiple perspectives, voices, and even languages, Cook’s haunting story delves into the fault lines between the two settled immigrant American families. In doing so, he exposes the very same complex dynamics of resentment and mistrust that existed between the Black and Korean communities and erupted into the violent mayhem of the L.A. Riots. 

Cook’s modern recasting of the classic American family feud also contains a damning portrayal of a contemporary America, whose broken educational, social, and judicial systems conspire to create the perfect conditions for the fostering of violent and even homicidal youth. Paul Cook’s impressive debut heralds the emergence of a new, important voice in the evolving narrative of Korean Americans.

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Without Remedy

     A Chicano family with a gang history of slanging drugs and robbing houses moved in next to the Korean house. They wanted their smallest house on the block to mean something. The Korean mother said that their house was inhabited, though, by evil demons. The previous owner, a middle-aged-lady of the house, had a heart attack and asked her sons to call nine-one-one. Instead, they allegedly left and played basketball. When the teenagers came back, their mother was already dead and cold.

     In their front yard, the new Chicano family planted palm trees, which had grown thick and tall. They felt like they were becoming Egyptian royalty now. Finally, they could start their lives afresh in the sleepy San Gabriel Valley, where they believed the mountains would hide and protect them from their past.

     The Korean family’s relatives too found haven there as well, when Los Angeles burned. They lived at the dead end of the cul-de-sac in the valley of the greater Los Angeles region. 

     The depth of the valley resembled its guardian-Archangel-Saint Gabriel’s horn, which apparently has an infinite surface area but finite volume. Thus, the angelic mountain ranges stood as a row of blue, stone guardians for the grand valley. But because of the smog screen, one almost never perceives how far away they are.

      The block used to be Filipino dominated, but they flew when the Mexicans and Chicanos moved in. Now, only one remained. The Korean family should’ve flown too, but the old lady of the house hated change.

     One Saturday, at the dead-end house, John woke up from his tall, custom-made, princely bed. He jumped off it. The balls of his feet landed against the cool, golden, hardwood floor, like a cat springing off the top of a wall and landing on stone. He always loved the hard and smooth texture against his bare feet; it felt better to his naked feet than stepping on cheap plastic laminate or worn carpet. 

     He went to urinate in the toilet, the same one he had urinated in since he was two. His urine was a bright yellow and created a bubbly froth on the surface of the toilet water. Smells earthy, he thought.

     His mother heard him flush the toilet and she screamed, “John! John! Breakfast is ready.”    She screamed because that’s how she always called for her kids, even when they were close and already fully grown. She was missing a front tooth and had black wiry hair that showed her scalp. The latter was probably in her DNA.  

     She had a worn face, evidence of the bitter sufferings she went through from her first life in North Korea, her second one as a refugee in South Korea, and her third one in America. She survived by telling herself every morning that life goes on. She even learned to reincarnate her suffering to her advantage. For instance, her marriage battles with her then-husband seasoned her in how to raze a man away to nothing with words...

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Diaster Before Becoming An Attorney

I think the forces of this universe tried to prevent me from becoming a lawyer.  I don't think it's too over dramatic of a statement because it happened, even until the end.  But you know, I'm stubborn and I was going to be an attorney even if the universe was trying to stop me.

First - there was getting into law school.  That was really tough because I sucked at standardized tests.  (I think I'm a lot better now though and am thinking of retaking it.)

Then there was my moral character.  One of my employers made a false accusation against me.  When she realized what she had done, she was way too arrogant to admit she was wrong.  She didn't check the facts and I didn't do what she thought I did.  It was so bad she still didn't want to exonerate me for the bar moral character.  I, against the advice of those who said that the system would support her, wrote a letter to her boss.  He reversed her immediately - as she actually lied to him about the whole fiasco.  She eventually ended up upsetting enough people that she got booted from her office.  Hallelujah and amen. I think the incident cost me a few shots of whiskey.

Then there was the professor at law school who wanted to steal my research.  As a result of trying to get published, she tried to accuse me of unethical behavior.  Can you believe it?  I tried to apologize to her, but the sad part of the whole thing was that she couldn't replicate my work.  She couldn't do the hard wired statistical work.  I thought once again my moral character was going to be dinged.  But to my surprise, again it worked out.

I had thoughts about dropping out of law school.  Bluebooking, which is the painful process of checking pagination and citations gave me a headache.  I remember thinking I never thought being a lawyer meant doing this kind of work.

Then there was the bar - at which time my cat had to have cancer.  And I devoted a lot of my time.  The cat still died.  I failed the bar.  All of it was just one awful procedure.

Then I passed the bar, with a MBE score in the top 20%.

So, all that was left was that I had to get sworn in by a judge I knew at Pasadena.  Usually, most people get sworn in at the Los Angeles Convention Center.  It's large and impersonal.  But I chose a judge who knew me and shared similar values.

Getting there should be no problem, right?

My mother's family decided to run late.  I wanted to go without them.  But she said, "NO!  I CAN'T GET TO THE COURTHOUSE WITHOUT YOU."  And this was a family event.  So, how could I go without my mom.  And how could they show up late.

In fact, everyone was late because my swearing in was at 4pm.  The Los Angeles traffic was clogged and prevented people from coming.

I took the 1967 mustang.  My mother told me not to take it.  But I had a number of friends to take and my two seater BMW couldn't fit them.  Later, she would tell me she had that woman's intuition not to take it.

So, I drive my car in the Friday traffic.  I'm running late to the courthouse.  My father calls and says, "HEY!  Where the hell are you?"

"I'm trying, Father.  I'm trying to get there.  But I'm late."

"You're such an idiot!  You know that.  They're going to close the courthouse."

My other friends call and ask me why I'm not there.  My mother calls and asks for directions.  My dad calls again.  My friends call to tell me they're running late.  I'm driving.  I'm late too.  I feel stressed.  I can't even talk to my passengers because I'm under so much stress.

Then I knew something went wrong.  I could smell the freon.  Why does it smell like my radiator busted?  It should be ok, no?  The heat gauge doesn't say my car is overheating, though it is getting a bit hotter.

And then it red lines in the temperature.  I pull over immediately to the right shoulder.  The white smoke rises from the engine.  The engine is frozen.  I busted it.  The car overheated.  My high school friend and my boxing coach are worried.  What do we do?  I'm stuck.  I'm not going to make it to my own swearing in.

I do think (&^(*##.  What do I do now?

I call my friend and tell them what happens.  The judge wants to talk to me.  He says if I can make it work within the hour, he'll wait for me.

I call my head boxing coach.  He agrees to rush over and take us from our stuck location to the courthouse.  My other friends also agree.

I see a car pull behind me.  I see a tow truck come too.  Oh, this tow truck is going to charge me.  I wonder how much.

But he doesn't.  He says, "It's a free freeway service.  We'll take you to the nearest side street."  Oh that's good.  I can get the car tomorrow.

I walk on the shoulder to the car that's behind me.  It's a silver car.  The cars are zooming by me and honking.  If I got hit, I would've died.  It wasn't that close, but close enough for you to feel the pressed air zoom across your face.

A guy gets out of the car.  An Asian guy.

"Scott?!"  It's my younger brother.

"Hey stupid, get on the other side.  You could get hit."

It is Scott.  How did this happen?  What are the odds he saw me?

Scott said, "Grace saw your car overheat.  She said look at that poor mustang.  But I knew it was you, right away."

What luck?!  I mean what are the chances that your family member randomly sees you on the freeway too.

I arrange with the tow truck to take us to the nearest side street.  Scott and his wife take my friends and I to the court house.  Everyone's waiting.  I made it.

I get sworn in.  Everyone cheers.  It's finished.  I'm an attorney now.

We celebrate at the Korean restaurant. The food is cooked over charcoal.  We drank the night away on champagne and toasts and ate the smoky meats.

My car got towed back home.  Yes, the engine is busted.  I don't have the money to fix it now.  Am I worried about it?  Not really.

I was just grateful my friends were safe in that car.  I was grateful my judge was gracious enough to wait for me.  I was thankful I got sworn in by him.  I'm appreciative and relieved I'm finally an attorney, although my mother had to remind me that it was the beginning of a new life not the end of this journey. 

If there was any time in my life that I knew for certain that God existed, it was then.  Maybe it was his angels who protected us from harm that day on the 210 West on the shoulder of that freeway.

PS: My mom told me later she had a bad premonition about the car.  Why don't women tell you those things up front?  Yes, I could have listened to her.  But she's always being a naysayer.  So how am I supposed to know when her nays are actually real nays?

PSS: Why are Korean families so demanding?  At dinner, my father made the request I now become famous.  My mother said I had to become wealthy.  And me being a good son, want to make them both happy.