LITTLE WATTS, STREETS THAT MADE A NAME!
a short story
In the summer of 1961, having left three brothers and a sister in my mother’s house, at the age of 11, I moved into my father’s house in Gardena, California, at 147th Street and Crenshaw.
A very small community made up mostly of poor and working class families, who had moved from various parts of Los Angeles or migrated from the South to give their families a better life.
For me, it was a new beginning. Being shy, having low self esteem, he was about to make new friends.
The first was Ronnie Brembre, who lived with his father and his dog just across the street. Later, my best friend would become Irvin (later called G…) who was several years older than me.
In Gardena there was very little to do. A canal divided the community. On my side of the bridge, there was absolutely nothing but houses. On the other hand, there were two schools, Kit Carson and Roosevelt. Divided by a large grassy area, there was a baseball diamond and a basketball field.
Our community was bordered by Rosecrans to the north, Crenshaw to the east, Yukon Avenue to the west, and Compton Blvd., now called Mariner, to the south. If found “outside this area”, we would be subject to police questioning.
At first, on my block, it was just me and Ronnie playing catch with a football, basketball, or baseball. We went to the channel that was nothing more than land and a stream of water where we caught frogs.
Sometimes we would cross the bridge, to the other side, and go to the playground where the school was. We almost always played baseball.
Sometimes we would play flag football or baseball. At some point we would just have foot races. At the time, I guess none of us knew any other young people in the area.
After the summer ended and school started, I was enrolled in Kit Carson School. I would start to meet other young people and that’s when I met Irvin Gardner (G… ). Not at school but hanging around the neighborhood.
Irvin was older than me, cool, and interested me. He and I hung out after school. At night, we would explore our neighborhood. Traveling outside of “our border area” and mostly always successfully evading the police (Lennox Sheriffs…).
He often hung out at Irvin’s house. He and I became close. We became “brothers” in the true sense of the word. His mother, Miss Thomas, became my mother. His sister Bertha, Evelyn and Rita became my sister. His brother’s Joey and Ernest became my brothers.
My father is Filipino and he accepted Irvin as my best friend and allowed me to spend nights at Irvin’s house.
Over a period of time, others joined our circle. The Washingtons (Duke John, Charles, Eddie…). Ronnie and Donnie Patton would soon join our family. We all became brothers!
We were a very tight click. We would hang out at each other’s houses, but Irvin’s house was mostly the GOING OUT PLACE!
At the age of 13 I started drinking beer and wine. That’s when I started smoking cigarettes and then weed.
The circle of the brotherhood grew, the Humdys, the Cobbs, the Edwards, the Rhodes and others.
Although confined to our limits, to our neighborhood, we continue to participate in escapes. Escaping the area with victories over evading police and sheriffs became our “bond” and made us very close friends.
Now teenagers, we were FAMILY, we were COMMUNITY. We became a “community at war” with the surrounding streets and neighborhoods. I know this made us FAMILY! We had a “one for all and all for one” mentality.
In 1965, I was coming from a visit to my mother’s house when something happened in the City of Los Angeles, it “blew up”! Some call it “THE WATTS RIOTING” (…later known as an uprising)!
They diverted me to another neighborhood, people were looting. I tried to stop and do something myself, but I had my little brother in the car with me, this wouldn’t work. People ran everywhere looting.
When I got back to Gardena, the riot was on TV. Irvin was older, had a car and knew how to drive, so we went back to the area of the uprising so we could participate. That’s what we did for 3 days. We keep going back and forth to South Central, evading police, sheriff, and National Guard troops.
Due to our actions, our area, right where we lived, was renamed “LITTLE WATTS”! Writing began to appear on the walls of our neighborhood at every corner. We began to mark our territory and the entrance to our community.
Nicknames appeared on the walls of those who represented the neighborhood, and our involvement with Watts Rebellion became widely known. Now for us to be caught, outside or inside, our community would not only lead to police questioning, BUT imprisonment as well.
Over the years, we’ve become much more challenging (…usually in a negative way), with burglaries, break-ins, etc.
Newcomers to the neighborhood accepted the name “LITTLE WATTS” and spoke of living there with pride…PRIDE!
In 2004, most of the original members are dead or locked up, the LITTLE WATTS name still exists, and the boundaries have grown, as has their membership.
BUT, those who originally represented LITTLE WATTS should be remembered and known as the men and women who “sticked together”, never backed down and “GAVE THE STREETS A NAME”.
By Manuel Benito Compito… (also known as OG MAN)