In this series, L.A. Times staff writer Christopher Goffard revisits old crimes in Los Angeles and beyond, from the famous to the forgotten, the consequential to the obscure, diving into archives and the memories of those who were there.
He is mostly forgotten today. But Caryl Chessman’s death penalty conviction dominated the debate about capital punishment for years.
Hunkered over a Xerox machine at an ad agency above a flower shop on Melrose Avenue, Daniel Ellsberg began the laborious process of photocopying the smuggled documents that he hoped would end the Vietnam War.
Patricia Hearst’s transformation into a fervent member of the SLA was part of a strange saga at the nexus of leftist militancy and American aristocracy, saturation media coverage and youth revolt.
George Franklin’s freedom was at stake. So was support for the idea that ‘repressed memories’ like his daughter’s recollection of Susan Nason’s 1969 slaying are accurate.
Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme was one of Charles Manson’s earliest disciples and remained devoted to him long after he went to prison. In September 1975, she brought a loaded gun to Sacramento’s Capitol Park with plans to confront President Ford.
The criminal trial was fresh in memory when the DMC-12 — equipped with the mysterious “flux capacitor” — served as a time machine in the 1985 hit “Back to the Future,” enshrining it in pop culture.
The McMartin Preschool trial ended with zero convictions. “McMartin” became a byword for social contagion, hysteria and the epic failure of trusted institutions: law enforcement, courts, the child-therapy establishment and the media.
Ronald Hughes was supposed to be another puppet, a neophyte attorney who would be easily manipulated — or intimidated — to do whatever Charles Manson demanded.
About 100 workers were in the Los Angeles Times building at 1:07 a.m. Oct. 1, 1910. Then 16 sticks of dynamite exploded at the anti-union newspaper, and people began dying.
The length of the trial ensured that the terrible footage was constantly on the nightly news.
Recovering at USC Medical Center, Paul Morantz was wheeled out in his hospital bed to face the press. He had no doubt the snake had come from Synanon, the drug rehab group founded 20 years earlier by a magnetic pitchman named Charles Dederich.
William Leasure, killer cop, still denies the big crimes, the ones that put him in prison: orchestrating the contract murders of a beauty shop employee and a jazz bassist.
Rebecca Schaeffer’s murder by an obsessed fan led to anti-stalking laws. Marcia Clark, the lead prosecutor, reflects on the case.
If you have information on old crimes, famous, once-famous or obscure, contact christopher.goffard@latimes.com
Credits
Editor: Cindy Chang
Research: Cary Schneider, Scott Wilson
Photo editor: Marc Martin
Design: Taylor Le
Sign up for Essential California
The most important California stories and recommendations in your inbox every morning.
You may occasionally receive promotional content from the Los Angeles Times.
