dedalus_1947 | V for Vandalism

Remember, remember,
The fifth of November

The Gunpowder Treason and plot;

I know of no reason

Why the Gunpowder Treason

Should ever be forgot.

(Variation of traditional rhyme recited on Guy Fawkes Night, in the graphic novel and movie, V for Vendetta, by Alan Moore.)

I glided my car down the slope of the freeway off ramp and stopped at the stop sign. Years of constant repetition forced me to look carefully for oncoming traffic on my left and possible pedestrians on my right. It was evening, and although a street light shone overhead, intervals of darkness, like long, black dashes, hyphenated the sidewalk and curbs of this section of Ventura Boulevard. These blind spots could easily hide a cyclist or child. Seeing nothing, I turned sharply to the right onto the boulevard, then right again, onto Shoup Avenue. Cruising at a easy speed, my mind slowly drifted back to the football game I’d just watched, and UCLA’s stunning upset over Tennessee. I shook my head, thinking of the miserable performance of the Bruin quarterback in the first half, and his redemption in the final minutes of the game and overtime. What a great season opener! After traveling a mile or so, I looked sharply to my right. Somewhere along this tree-lined and familiar route, a mocking hint seemed to be whispered in my ear. “Something’s wrong”, a shadowed voice hissed. I looked again. Everything was in its place along the street; there was nothing out of order. However, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling of wrongness, as I drove. At the well-lit intersection of Victory Boulevard, I sensed it again. “There’s something wrong” I seemed to hear. Now I was frustrated. I was missing something. I concentrated fully on the road ahead, and checked off each object as I approached them on the street: the curb, sidewalk, grass, tree, sign pennants, apartments, houses, street sign, speed sign, mobile ad, bus stop, street lights, and intersection. Everything was there, and everything was in the right place; so what was wrong? As I came to the last large intersection at Sherman Way, I stopped for the red light. Staring at the street and curb ahead, I again thought “What am I missing?” I turned away for a moment to watch the gas station customers using the pumps and walking into the mini-mart at the corner as the signal changed. When I drove across the intersection, I glanced to the curb and finally saw the detail I had been missing. A tall, mobile billboard, about 5 feet tall and 3 feet across, was mounted atop a licensed trailer platform. I had seen these mobile ads all along Shoup; what I had missed was the distinct lettering. As I passed the sign, I saw that all the words on the white background had been blocked out in black house paint with wide brush roller strokes. Nothing was readable. Each of the 6 or 7 curbside billboards along Shoup, between Ventura Boulevard and Sherman Way had been defaced and vandalized that evening.

I discovered this damage on Labor Day, the night of the UCLA game, on my way home. I’d been noticing these mobile billboards in the west San Fernando Valley region, all year long, especially on streets with heavy traffic density and large stretches of open curb space. Shoup and Fallbrook Avenues, sections of Topanga Canyon, and Roscoe and Devonshire Boulevards, were places where they seemed most prominent. These mobile ads and curbside billboards have become ubiquitous and annoying; they prevent the flow of traffic, and disrupt the scenic continuity of neighborhood streets. I have to admit that a part of me was secretly amused by the idea that an ordinary citizen had finally gotten “fed up” and struck a blow against billboard pollution. However, this was not a one-night stunt. Over the course of the next three weeks I saw more and more of these painted and defaced curbside signs, billboards, and mobile ads. This was not a single symbolic act; it was a crime spree. The more defaced billboards I saw along Topanga Canyon or Shoup, the more troubled I became. Who was doing it, and why? Had a citizen despaired of city government and the law, and was now taking matters into their own hands? Was this vigilantism, or a personal vendetta? It was clear that considerable damage was being done. Someone was losing money, and an angry citizen (or citizens) was increasing the odds of being identified and apprehended. My speculations would flare up whenever I saw a defaced billboard on the street. After three weeks of letting my imagination run wild, I finally decided to get some facts. I called one of the telephone numbers on an undamaged trailer hitch carrying a mobile billboard, and talked to Bill of Mobile Ads. He confirmed that the crime spree started on the Labor Day weekend and hadn’t stopped. The first billboards vandalized were the property of At a Glance advertisements, and a report had been made to the police. So far, Bill had suffered only about $800 worth of damage.

Bill’s information only raised more questions. Were these destructive acts aimed at businesses or the city’s parking ordinances? Municipal codes permit these vehicles to occupy curb space. Had this citizen become so frustrated with the city that he transferred his civic outrage to other citizens? Had he fanned and stoked his anger to the point of willfully damaging other people’s property? Vandalism is a vile and negative act; it is committed subversively, and under cover of darkness. The defacement of these billboards disturbed me. Wrongs were not corrected; laws were not changed; and civil rights were not protected. My conversation with Bill put a human voice to the phenomenon I was watching played out in the west San Fernando Valley. He sounded relieved that someone was discussing the problem. For him, this was not a crime against property; it was a personal attack. He told me that people just didn’t want to see these ads on the street. They called him and threatened him. He was responsive when callers were civil and polite in stating their complaints or requests, but he couldn’t understand the hate and violence. The only counter-strategy he had was to keep his trailers moving on a regular basis, and not concentrating them on one street.

I couldn’t help but be sympathetic to Bill’s plight, and angry at the perpetrator. There is always a side of us that wants to root for the underdog, the little guy, the lone voice calling in the wilderness. We love to be angry at them - the government, “the man”, bureaucracy, or lawyers. Stories abound around the world of heroes rising up to fight greedy overlords and faceless bureaucracies: Robin Hood and “his merry band of outlaws” plagued England’s Prince John, Zorro fought the alcalde of Los Angeles, Jesse James attacked the railroads in Kansas and Missouri, and Emiliano Zapata opposed Victoriano Huerta and the federales of Mexico. But what happens when one underdog victimizes another underdog. Bill was not a “fat cat”, a greedy, Wall Street capitalist. He works hard, answers the phone Monday through Sunday, worries about his trailers, and shepherds the mobile ads and signs to safe pastures; he’s just an ordinary guy trying to make a living.

I’m not a stranger to vandalism; as a public school principal it happens to school buildings and walls all the time (see A Monday without Graffiti), I should also confess, that some years, graffiti vandalism becomes such an overwhelming problem, that I find myself fantasizing about placing land mines or snipers on roofs to stop despoilers from defacing my professional home. Of course I never give into these murderous thoughts, but I still have to guard against impulsive tendencies that punish innocent students or “the usual suspects” who come so readily to mind when vandalism occurs. First of all, I have to step back and wonder if I have become “the man” to somebody’s Robin Hood. Is the graffiti a political act or destructive mischief? Next I avoid reacting to these crimes by restricting or depriving students of their rights or privileges. Closing frequently “tagged up” restrooms does not stop vandalism; it only produces annoyance, anger, and constipation among other students (and their parents). Lastly, I have to avoid harassing or prosecuting the students who fit my profile of likely hoodlums, simply because I don’t like the way they look, act, dress, or behave. Over 24 years of anecdotal experiences have taught me that “the usual suspects” are rarely guilty of anonymous crimes. The few times we actually caught a teenage vandal, spoke with their shamed and humbled parents, and heard the perpetrator’s childish and thoughtless reasons for destruction, they actually made sense to me. Children’s and adolescent mental development allows them to make stupid choices; our goal as teachers is to help them learn to THINK and make better ones. But the vandalism I was seeing in the west San Fernando Valley was different. The actions of thoughtless and boneheaded kids are bad, but developmentally logical; the deliberate and malicious act of retaliation or vigilantism, by adults, against private property was sinful.

The billboard bandit has staked himself to dangerous ground. He is not a vigilante in the classic sense, because the laws that regulate street parking are flexible and open to challenge – if one is determined, the law can be changed. Impatience with the legal system is not justification for violence; attacking a person who annoys you, but obeys the law, is a personal vendetta and a crime. This is what I believe is happening in the West Valley, and it bewilders me. The mobile ad marauder is not a child or a teenager; he’s an adult who is making criminal choices.