OS
ANGELES, Sept. 26 — This city's attitudes toward New York were
always a cocktail of sweet and sour ambivalence, blending
braggadocio, competitive pride and cool indifference, with a twist
of culture envy.
But watching the terrorism crisis unfold has cut through all that
like no other event. Los Angeles has been riveted by what is going
on in New York, and the usual emotional divide has been bridged,
replaced with elemental anxieties: fear, empathy and even a touch of
guilt.
Greatest of all is the fear, perhaps particularly palpable here
because Los Angeles was the target of a foiled bombing plot two
years ago and there have been warnings that it might be a target
again.
In addition, three of the four jetliners hijacked on Sept. 11 had
been headed for Los Angeles, and so some of those killed were
residents of the area. That has added to a bond of grief with
victims' families in New York, Washington and elsewhere.
"Two things made it real for people here, I think," said Stewart
Kwoh, executive director of the Asian Pacific American Legal Center
of Southern California. "There was the indiscriminate nature of the
killing, which means anyone could have been affected. And I think
everyone realizes it could happen here. It almost did happen
here."
Mr. Kwoh was referring to the 1999 arrest of an Algerian man
later convicted of planning a major attack on Los Angeles
International Airport at the millennium.
Terrorists "missed doing the damage they wanted at the World
Trade Center the first time, and they went back," said Victor Hwang,
chief operating officer of the Los Angeles Regional Technology
Alliance, a trade group.
"They also tried before to hit LAX and they missed; these guys
are pretty stubborn," said Mr. Hwang, whose wife has insisted he not
go near the airport.
Just last week the Federal Bureau of Investigation warned movie
studios that they might be the target of a new bombing plot. The
studios have tightened security at their many gates and have closed
some, causing long lines of Range Rovers and Mercedes-Benzes. One
result is that meetings that would have been conducted in sunny
conference rooms over bottled European mineral water are now being
held by telephone. In addition, movie executives have said they are
postponing or canceling projects requiring extensive travel.
At Elixir, an exotic tea and herbal remedy bar on Melrose Avenue
that is popular among celebrities, Jeff Stein, a co-owner, said the
number of customers getting tarot cards read by a medium who works
there had jumped since the attacks.
"There is an enormous amount of fear and apprehension about what
might be coming next," Mr. Stein said. "People feel a real pride in
New York now, but they also feel drained and just scared."
At least in some circles, there have also been vague feelings of
guilt stemming from a perception that the entertainment industry has
produced too much superficial fare and may have undermined the
country's sense of purpose and vigilance.
"There is a feeling among people in show business that we
contributed to a culture that let its guard down," said Chris
Carter, the creator and executive producer of the popular television
show "The X-Files."
Michael Tollin, a producer of the movie "Hardball" and of
television shows like "All That" and "Smallville," a fall program
about the young Clark Kent, said the prominence of Hollywood and
resentment around the world over its products could well make this
city a target.
"I think people are freaked by the threat," Mr. Tollin said.
"Look, what is our biggest export? Movies and entertainment. We're
the ones accused of cultural imperialism, so arguably we make a
strong target. And people know that."
Still, Angelenos have expressed an unusual sense of unity. They
have placed flags on thousands of their beloved automobiles, firemen
have stood at street corners collecting money in their boots for the
families of victims, and, most conspicuously, Hollywood celebrities
have turned out in large numbers to perform at fund-raisers.
There is also still a touch of envy, some here say — not of the
tragedy itself, of course, but of the kind of civic backbone New
York has demonstrated. Los Angeles endured three disasters in the
last decade — the rioting in 1992, a series of fires and floods the
next year and the Northridge earthquake in 1994. Each time the city
came together to rebuild, but many leaders acknowledge that the
efforts were erratic at times and relatively short-lived.
"We've always been centerless, and that affects us a lot," said
Linda Griego, a former deputy mayor and onetime head of Rebuild
L.A., which helped in post-riot recovery. "People need to work a lot
more to come together here, so it doesn't happen very often. You
don't have that in New York. There's a spirit that just seems
deeper, especially now."
Others said the relative youth of Los Angeles, a central fact in
its self- image, had come to feel a little like a liability.
"Our civic maturity is a long way off still," said the state's
librarian, Kevin Starr, the author of numerous books on the region.
"We have a civic culture here, but it is very thin. We can come
together, as I think we have now, but it dissipates very quickly. It
is so obvious watching this that New York is
different."