BY GRACE YUAN GAO, RACHEL KISELA AND HANNU KIVIMAKI

Welcome to Los Angeles, CA, in the last few days of April 1992. Four photographers — some freelancers, others staff photographers at institutions like the Los Angeles Times — recall the moments leading up to and surrounding some of their most iconic photos of the L.A. uprising.

Ted Soqui was a photographer for LA Weekly during the 1992 uprising, one of the only professional photographers to capture the burning palm trees of L.A.

“I saw someone burning a palm tree, and they were using a long pole with a flag on it, and I didn’t really realize it was an American flag,” Soqui recalled, “until I printed the image.”

“The subject kind of intrigued me, not only was he holding a flag, he was masked. Back 30 years ago, not many people wore masks during demonstrations.”

After spending daylight hours shooting photos, Soqui would process and develop the film overnight in his garage. Constrained by the closure of photography stores in Los Angeles, he shot mostly in black and white film, which was faster and easier to develop on his own.

David Butow witnessed many historical events through the lens of his camera as a freelance photojournalist, including the 1992 uprisings in L.A., the 2003 invasion of Iraq, and the 2019 protests in Hong Kong. Most recently, he was in Ukraine shooting photographs of the war.

Hyungwon Kang focused his photography on the experiences and emotions of Korean-Americans during the L.A. uprising. With his Korean, Kang was able to put subjects of his photography at ease, becoming a fly on the wall during the events of April 1992. Kang is currently a freelance photojournalist and won a Pulitzer Prize for his coverage of the 1992 uprising for the Los Angeles Times.

Photo courtesy of Kirk McKoy

Kirk McKoy, also a Pulitzer Prize-winning staff photographer for the Los Angeles Times, immersed himself fully in the 1992 protests just before the intersection of Florence and Normandie became the primary subject of police attention. He recalls witnessing one protest on the evening of April 29, 1992, at the corner of Crenshaw and West Adams.

“When I arrived on the scene, there were already people out on the streets, banging pots and pans, already holding homemade signs,” McKoy said. “Right after that, I turned around, looked up and saw a bunch of helicopters circling an intersection, which happened to be Florence and Normandie, and figured, ‘that’s the place to be.’”

View these historical images overlaid on present-day 360º video in this immersive piece, and hear from the photographers themselves. Scan the QR codes using Snapchat on your smartphone to walk through an augmented reality doorway to examine the space around you.

STEP INTO THE PAST

Using the Snapchat app, load our augmented reality lens to step into a portal to the past and hear the photographers discuss their iconic images.

David Butow recalls taking photos of burning rubble just a couple blocks from his L.A. apartment in 1992.	Hyungwon Kang discusses how he used his Korean fluency to blend in among activists in Koreatown.
Kirk McKoy talks about how he moved from protest to protest the night of April 29, 1992.	Ted Soqui remembers spotting burning palm trees next to the freeway in downtown L.A.

How to unlock and use Snapchat Lenses

BY LAJJA MISTRY, SAM SCHWARTZ AND RANDY VAZQUEZ

Cornelius Pettus, former owner of Payless Market was working the night when fires erupted all over Los Angeles. Little did he know that the fire would also come to his doorstep. Hours into the night, the shop next door – Ace Glass was set ablaze. Pettus, along with the community stayed up all night to stop the fire from spreading. Today, Ace Glass no longer stands. Instead, it is now an empty storage lot.

The corner of 57th Street and Western Avenue, where Ace Glass stood, is not the only scar left behind because of the uprising. Today, many vacant lots lie all around South Central Los Angeles as a direct result of the 1992 riots.

Courtesy of The Los Angeles Times

“There was a shopping center diagonally across from us that had a hamburger stand, a video store. The whole shopping center on the corner … was completely burned to the ground. Next door to the [Payless] Market, the Ace Glass company had burned to the ground. And a lot of places up and down the street that were there over 30 years ago were burned to the ground, they were never replaced,” said Pettus.

These scars were not only physical. The destruction and fires were also followed by loss of livelihood, loss of business and income – all within a few hours. The events of 1992 had lasting emotional impacts. Many services became unavailable in the area because they were burned down. People had to go outside of the community to avail the basic services because shops were reduced to ashes.

There have been talks of restoration and revitalization of the empty lots over the years, but to date, nothing has come to fruition. There have been multiple reasons. Some people have chosen not to come back because of the stigma of what happened 30 years ago. Pettus claimed that most banks require some kind of structure on a piece of land to give out money to purchase a vacant lot. Most banks do not loan out money on empty land.

“I don’t know how to fix this dilemma that’s been going on for 30 years and from the looks of it I don’t see anything in the near future to correct it,” said Pettus.

“My heart went out to the people who not only lost their building but also their livelihood. So many people lost so many things; not just money but their personal items – their clothes, their cars. Everything possibly they owned.”

Pettus, along with hundreds of others carries with themselves the scars that have not faded since the night that left Los Angeles burning. Today, Pettus hopes that someone recognizes the potential in South Central L.A. and provides the goods and services that the community needs.

Cornelius Pettus found himself fighting a fire and becoming a historic image.

How to unlock and use Snapchat Lenses

BY MARTA HERNANI FERNANDEZ, CHARISMA MADARANG, JESSE MECHANIC AND JACQUELINE PINEDO

Tom’s Market overlooks the intersection of Florence and Normandie — the flash point of the 1992 Los Angeles uprising.

The event had lasting effects on the South Los Angeles community that can still be seen from the lack of access to medical services, fresh produce food and affordable housing. Many lots in the area have remained empty and undeveloped for three decades after the civil unrest.

The Market, formerly Tom’s Liquor, has been a symbolic center of a debate about businesses in the area.

James Oh, the current owner of Tom’s, acknowledges the historical significance of the store and says he wants to support the local residents. “I’m here for the community,” Oh said. “What they need, I can help.”

Although Tom’s has rebranded since the civil unrest, many residents in the South L.A. community still believe there is work to be done.

Community Coalition, a local organization, works to transform the landscape of South Los Angeles by converting liquor stores to businesses that help rebuild the community in a way that is responsible and respectful. The organization also hopes to attract small businesses that will generate economic and social growth.

Marsha Mitchell, Communications Director at Community Coalition, works to transform the local landscape to ensure liquor stores have a more positive impact on the local community.

“We can partner with owners to make their liquor stores into markets that are more positive and have the ability to get groceries in a food desert,” said Mitchell.

Part of this change involves markets offering healthier alternatives such as fruits and vegetables and accepting EBT to keep food purchases accessible.

Tom’s Market was at the epicenter of the uprising and part of this iconic photograph.

How to unlock and use Snapchat Lenses

BY HALLE HAZZARD, JESSE MECHANIC, MALLIKA SINGH AND VAISHNAVI VASUDEVAN

“I remember it like it was yesterday even though it was 30 years ago,” recalls Jonathan Bell, a professor who teaches urban and regional planning at Cal Poly Pomona University. “I could still smell the smoke in the air and know what that meant. At that point, South Central and the larger Black and Brown community had enough.”

As we mark the 30th Anniversary of the 1992 Los Angeles Uprisings, a collection of oral testimonies reflects and shows how the echoes from this event still resonate today.

From an artist who made rubbings of the riots to an Asian American police officer’s personal account of the event; to a student who started a non-profit organization to bring communities together and an urban planner who is working to rebuild South Central into a safer community; these voices form a human library, of sorts, that not only encompass the unrest, but also the communal impact that occurs afterwards.

The uprisings were not just about the damage that was inflicted upon the city. They were also about the people whose voices were silenced, unheard, or forgotten during this time of suffering.

“It is the system that left us. During the riots, some Koreans were seen on rooftops pointing their guns,” remembers Hyepin Im, now president and founder of Faith and Community Empowerment (FACE) organization. “They were there for their American dreams and the last thing they ever thought was risking their lives and pointing out their guns. But the police had totally abandoned Koreatown. Those store owners were left to fend for themselves.”

Three decades later, even though initiatives have been taken to rebuild L.A, some believe that a lot needs to change.

“I still feel that the systemic racism that ignited the L.A. uprisings exists today and I hope we take more time to distill down the reasons why uprisings occur,” said Tyree Boyd-Pates, the museum curator that oversaw the California African American Museum’s uprising exhibit honoring the 25th anniversary.

Each personal experience you experience through this collection – either through a VR Gallery or 360/VR video – is a testament to how historic events shape our daily lives.

As Najuma Smith-Pollard, a volunteer who worked at the First AME church during the uprising says, “Nothing changes without people coming together.”

BY MYRAH SARWAR

The South L.A. intersection of Florence and Normandie avenues was the epicenter of the 1992 civil unrest. Photojournalists captured powerful images here 30 years ago.

Using 3D-modeling and browser-based virtual reality, we re-created the intersection and positioned photos aligned with where the photographers took them.