Today is the 31st anniversary of the capture of one of the most feared serial killers in Southern California history.
And that’s saying something since Southern California has always been, for whatever reason, the kind of environment that supported the development of such monsters.
During his 14-month reign of terror throughout the state, beginning in June 1984, Richard Ramirez murdered at least 13 people and raped and tortured others in unspeakable ways – men, women and children. That all ended Aug. 31, 1985, when he was caught – not by the police, but by civilians.
How did it happen?
That day, a composite police sketch of the mass murderer was published on the front page of my newspaper, the Los Angeles Herald Examiner, along with others. Ramirez didn’t know it. When he got to the L.A. Greyhound bus depot in East L.A. about 7:30 a.m., he walked right past LAPD task force members who were monitoring outbound buses.
He walked to a liquor store and saw his prominent visage in the papers calling him the “Night Stalker,” a moniker I had given him months earlier. A woman in the store called out in Spanish: “El maton” – the killer.
Ramirez took off on foot, cutting across Interstate 5, dodging traffic and heading toward Boyle Heights. He tried to steal a car, but was pulled out by an angry resident. Then he ran across the street and tried to steal some car keys from a woman, but her husband grabbed a pipe from his gate and beat Ramirez over the head.
A mob formed and chased Ramirez down the street, eventually forcing him to the ground.
That’s when an L.A. County sheriff’s deputy responded to a call about the disturbance. Ironically, his name was Andy Ramirez. He made the collar.
The rest is history.
What had terrified the L.A. area was the sadism exhibited in the spree that was so grotesque we couldn’t even report many details we learned from the police.
At his courtroom arraignment, it became clear what was behind it all, when Ramirez raised his hand, sporting a pentagram and shouted “Hail Satan.”
We learned about Ramirez in the next few years. It turns out he was a member of a devil-worshiping gang called the “Stoners.” One faction of the “Stoners” is said to have morphed years later into the gang MS-13.
But more than two years before Ramirez was caught, I very nearly became a victim of this gang – and, for all I know, Ramirez might have been present.
I was walking to my car in an unlit parking lot through a dark alley one night after leaving the newspaper. I had a bad feeling when I heard shattering glass, heavy metal music and lots of raucous voices. As I got closer to the lot, I could see some bonfires blazing in trash cans. It looked like between 25 and 30 young men. I had a choice. I could run out of there or make a quick dash to my car, which was between me and the crowd.
I got my keys out of my pocket and took a chance – darting to the car in hopes they wouldn’t notice me.
But, by the time I got to the car, I could see the windows had been smashed. There was glass all over the seats. I got in anyway because there was no chance of running back to the office. The crowd was beginning to move toward me. I was praying the engine would start.
It did.
By that time, a dozen of them were beginning to converge on me. I hit the accelerator, determined to run over anyone who got in my way, and sped off – as my car was showered with rocks and bottles.
I found out the next day from police that the “Stoners” were partying in that parking lot the night before.
That was half a life ago. But I still remember it vividly. Sometimes I still have a nightmare or two about it.
I’ll never know if Ramirez was there that night. He died in prison of cancer in 2013.
Media wishing to interview Joseph Farah, please contact [email protected].
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