Dragnet

This is the city— Los Angeles, California.

It's a big place...

and getting bigger all the time.

Twenty years ago, this was our telephone book.

Today it takes these five books to do the same job.

People move here from all over the country, looking for a new life.

Some leave their inhibitions back where they came from.

And sometimes their sense of right and wrong.

That's when I go to work. I carry a badge.

It was Wednesday, March 19. It was cold in Los Angeles.

We were working the day watch out of Juvenile Division.

The boss is Captain Lou Richey. My partner's Bill Gannon.

My name's Friday.

Bill and I had just returned from court, where we had testified in a juvenile narcotics case.

We were on our way to lunch when the captain stopped us in the hallway.

The story you are about to see is true.

The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Joe, Bill, you know Sergeant John Pearson. How are you, John?

How are you, Pearson? Good to see you.

As you know, John's O.I.C., Juvenile Unit, West Valley. Yeah, we know.

How'd it go in court? Looked like you had a good case.

We got a petition sustained. Six months' probation, custody of his parents.

How do you figure it, Captain? Kid's an addict, in possession, was even selling the stuff.

I don't know. Sixteen years old.

Pearson's got an epidemic on his hands out in West Valley.

Friday, you remember the way it was in '57? Four radio units covered the entire division.

- Yeah, John. - Things have changed a lot since then.

- 130,000 more people have moved in. - How many more men did you get?

- Not enough. - Here are the statistics, Joe.

John's division covers about 85 square miles.

Eight different communities. At the last count, 330,000 people.

Half of 'em—150,000— are juveniles.

That's more people than the entire population of Savannah, Georgia.

I've got just 10 officers to handle them. It's getting out of hand.

First two months of last year, we arrested 489 kids.

First two months of this year, we arrested 596.

What's your biggest problem, Pearson? All of 'em— narcotics, grand theft auto,

drinking, shoplifting— we got 'em all.

It's not just a problem of law enforcement. It's a community problem.

Trouble is, there's no community, Captain. These people come piling in here from everywhere.

They don't know each other and don't want to.

They come out here, make a down payment on a house, and move in with a couple of kids.

That doesn't mean they've made a home— no more than giving a name to a place makes it a community.

Yeah, and you get a little weary of hearing every kid give you the same excuse when you tag 'em.

"You don't understand. I just want to belong. That's why I did it." Belong to what?

What it boils down to is the new morality, doesn't it? A whole new sense of values.

The kids see it on television, in magazines, even hear it from the pulpit.

God is dead. Drug addiction is mind-expanding.

Promiscuity is glamorous. Even homosexuality is praiseworthy.

How are you gonna fight that? It ain't easy.

But you gotta remember that the vast majority of the juveniles you're handling are the kids next door.

They're not hard-core criminals. It's just that for them...

it's a great deal more important to be accepted by the other kids than to please their parents.

Maybe if you put a couple of men on the lecture circuit.

Talk to the schools, P.T.A.'s.

I got 104 schools, Captain. I got 10 men.

You got 12 now.

2:45 p.m. To help out Sergeant Pearson,

the captain assigned us to temporary duty in the West Valley Division.

After we filed our reports, we drove out to Reseda.

It's a good 35-minute drive from downtown, even on the freeway.

3:20 p.m. Bill and I checked in to West Valley Juvenile.

Yeah, okay. You hold him there. We'll be right over.

Shoplifter. Summer's department store, West Valley Plaza.

They're holding him in the security office. Right.

Fifteen-year-old boy.

3:32 p.m. We headed for the West Valley Plaza,

an old, established shopping center.

Summer's department store is one of the largest in California.

It has branches in almost every part of the city. 3:45 p.m.

Hal Rosten. Friday and Gannon, West Valley Juvenile.

I got the boy in the next office. Here's the theft report.

I'm getting writer's cramp making these out. It's like the locusts have moved in.

Last month or so, we've had pretty big losses. That right?

We've been taken for almost $4,000 worth of merchandise.

Same thing's happening to other stores here in the Plaza.

Young kids take weird stuff. Like the one in the next office.

One Whirlwind hair dryer, $16.98. One package Deep Soft diapers, $2.68.

One box paper clips, 42 cents.

What's a 15-year-old kid want with stuff like that?

Let's ask him.

You the fuzz? Police officers. What's your name, son?

- Bobby Lassin. He asked me that already. - All right, Bob. You're under arrest.

You have the right to remain silent, and any statements you make may be used against you in a court of law.

You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed before questioning.

Do you understand? Yeah.

- Do you live at 20329 Tareyton Place, Canoga Park? - Yeah, that's where I live.

How old are you? Fifteen. Be 16 in August.

- You gonna call my mother? - We have to take you in first.

- You gonna put me in jail? - Maybe.

- What for? I didn't do nothing. - You stole merchandise from this store.

Well, you got it all back, didn't you? Nobody got hurt.

You did, son. You committed a crime.

Even if I'd gotten away with it, they'd never miss it. They got all the stuff in the world.

Why'd you take these things— A hair dryer, diapers, paper clips?

- I had to. - You had to?

Sure. It adds up to 20 bucks, doesn't it?

4:05 p.m. With the subject in custody, we returned to the office.

4:15 p.m. I called Georgia Juvenile Records...

and the Central Juvenile Index in the L.A. Sheriff's office.

Robert Lassin had no previous record.

Following department procedure, I filled in Sergeant Pearson.

Let's get the parents down here, Joe. Find out what his background is.

Maybe we can straighten him up without going to court. Okay, John.

Joe? He wants a favor before his mother gets here.

Yeah? Wants to call a friend of his.

Claims he left a package in a service station a couple of blocks from school.

Wants somebody to pick it up and bring it here. What's in it?

Something about his clothes. I can't let her see me in these. She'll kill me.

Doesn't your mother know you dress like that?

If she did, would I have to change clothes in a gas station every day?

Where'd you get that outfit? I bought it.

You sure about that? You gonna let me change?

No. My mother's really gonna be mad.

I hope so.

4:26 p.m. I called the Lassin boy's mother...

and explained the circumstances of his arrest.

She said it would take about 15 to 20 minutes to drive over.

Are you Sergeant Friday? Yes, ma'am. That's right.

I'm Peggy Lassin, Bobby's mother.

Sorry it took me so long to get here. I had to get a babysitter.

I understand. I'm sorry we had to ask you to come over. Would you like to sit down, please?

Is Bobby here? Yes, ma'am. He's just inside. He's all right.

May I see him? Yes. I'd like to ask you a few questions first.

You going to put him in jail? That depends, Mrs. Lassin.

Has the boy ever been in trouble before? No, never.

He didn't do anything really wrong, did he?

Well, like I told you on the telephone, he was arrested for shoplifting.

You know, boys take things sometimes.

Like a baseball or jackknife, things like that.

It's stealing, Mrs. Lassin.

He's been wanting a pocketknife. Is that what he took? I'll pay for it.

No, ma'am. He took a hair dryer, a dozen diapers and a box of paper clips.

Do you know any reason why he'd want those things? No.

Do you think he might have taken them to give somebody as a present?

He was never in any trouble before.

It's like living in a big vacuum out here.

Do you know that? Back home we used to have friends,

neighbors.

Out here all we have are people who happen to live next door.

We've lived in the same house for two years,

and we still don't know anybody, not really.

Not like it was back home. Nobody's got any roots out here.

My husband says it was like being in the army.

First thing you ask somebody is where they're from.

You know what I mean?

Nobody belongs to anybody or anything.

We're all strangers.

It makes it difficult, you know.

What's that, Mrs. Lassin? Raising a family.

Bobby makes friends in school. I never get to meet their parents.

He used to bring his friends home sometimes.

They were nice boys, mostly.

- Do you know who he runs around with? - Not anymore.

He comes home for dinner,

and he does his homework, and he goes right out again.

But he's always in bed by 10:00 on school nights. His father sees to that.

Do you think your husband will straighten him out, have a talk with him?

He's going to get whipped all right, if that's what you mean.

Nobody in our family has ever been arrested. My husband's not going to like it.

You're not going to put him in jail?

No, ma'am. You can take him home this time.

But if he gets in trouble again, it'll go a little harder for him.

- Thank you. - I'll get the boy.

Hi, Ma. Where'd you get those clothes?

All the guys wear 'em. I asked you where you got them!

From the store. Did you steal them?

You wouldn't let me buy 'em. If your father sees you dressed up like that, he'll have a fit.

Will you tell me what's so wrong with these clothes?

Why can't I ever be like the other kids? Their parents let them.

Well, I'm not their mother! I'm yours!

And no son of mine is going to dress up like a circus clown!

- Well, all the other kids do. - Did they steal them?

- Well, so what if they did! - You took those things without paying for them.

- You stole them, didn't you? - Well, I had to, Mom.

Don't you understand? I can't be in the club if I don't.

You didn't tell us about any club, son. Tell us about it now.

They call it the Mod Squad.

To get in, you gotta steal $20 worth of stuff.

Why didn't you come to me? I could've found the $20 for you somewhere.

It's not the money. You know the little tags they put on stuff that has the price on it?

- What about 'em? - Well, if you buy something, they tear it in half.

But to get in the Mod Squad, you gotta bring the whole tag.

If you buy it, they won't give you the whole tag.

I asked 'em. And if you don't have the whole one, Audie won't let you join.

And it's gotta add up to $20. That's why I took that junk.

Who's Audie? The top man.

- He says who gets in and who don't. - What's his last name?

- Fulton. Audie Fulton. - Do you know the names of the rest of this bunch?

- Do I have to tell them? - Yes, you do.

- I don't wanna be a fink. - Let's have the names, son.

Boy, they'll never let me join the club now.

- Don't let it worry you. - What do you mean?

I got a hunch their membership drive's gonna be over.

Thursday, March 20, 8:30 a.m.

Before we released him into the custody of his mother,

we made the Lassin boy change his clothes that he had stolen and held them as evidence.

He gave us the names of the members of the Mod Squad,

one of the teenage groups that was partly responsible for the current wave of shoplifting in the Valley.

They were all students at the Millard Senior High School.