By K. W. Lee

How easily LA Koreatown forgets. Few know his name or care to remember. But his legacy endures among a few good children of Sa-ee-gu (the 1992 Los Angeles riots) who haven’t forgotten.

Nine years ago this month on the second night of the fiery Koreatown siege, a humble homie named Eddie Lee died a martyr 24 days short of his 19th birthday.

Eddie and three other homies were gunned down in a wild crossfire between two barricaded defenders at an intersection, while responding to cries for help over radio that their stores were in danger. The brave volunteers were mistaken for approaching arsonists and looters. All but Eddie survived the murderous fusillade.

Thus Edward Song Lee, born and bred in Koreatown, became the only Korean American fatality in the 1992 LA riots that devastated the lives of 10,000 fellow immigrant victims and wrecked 2,300 Korean businesses to the tune of nearly half of the city’s $1 billion total loss.

Out of the ashes of Sa-ee-gu Eddie Lee has ascended to its lone redeeming figure showing the way toward developing a thing called community conscience for generations to come.

Eddie’s supreme sacrifice to defend the helpless fellow immigrants under mob assaults has put to shame the American-educated elites who, except for a handful, had remained silent and aloof throughout the darkest hours of Korean American history.

Tall, handsome, big and open of heart and full of life and laughter, Eddie was a happy warrior in demand among his troubled homies in their gritty hood where they were left to fend for themselves from the ever-lurking violence and danger.

"Since the time Eddie was shot, he was alive for another 30 minutes," said James Kang, 18, who lay bleeding profusely right next to his mortally wounded comrade on that fateful night.

Miraculously Kang survived to tell his eyewitness account to then-staff writer Sophia Kim of the Korea Times English Edition weekly. "He was a fighter. He didn’t want to die, I know Eddie. You could tell he was fighting for his life."

Kang said his fellow Koreans in passing cars just gawked at the wounded youths and left the scene with Eddie bleeding to death.

"We all loved him," said Kang. "He was different. He was a happy guy. If you were in a sad mood he would be there to cheer you up."

In death Eddie has inspired another homie named Peter Lee who has successfully battled drugs, guns and gang life to take charge of a national model intervention project that works specifically on Asian gang members. It’s called the Gang Awareness Program, a pivotal part of the Korean Youth and Community Center (KYCC) program.

"The day of the riots Eddie was with all the other ‘homies,’ watching the Korean American community falling apart right before his eyes," recalled Peter Lee, the GAP coordinator.

"On the Korean radio station, Eddie heard a man asking for help at his store, so Eddie felt the need to do his part for the community, and he went out to defend the store.

"That night, Eddie passed away serving his community. To me I see Eddie as a true hero. He was ‘down’ for his community and his people."

Peter’s ties with Eddie go back to their happy childhood in the emerging Koreatown:

"I remember him coming to our block with his skateboard to play ‘Da Bang Gu,’ a Korean version of cops and robbers.

"I used to live on Serrano Avenue between Second and Third and all the kids in the neighborhood used to come to our block because we had a lot of skaters living on our block.

"Skating was very popular back in those days and we called ourselves the Rapid Skate Team (RST). RST grew into one of the biggest skating groups in LA.

"We began competing with other skating groups and I was one of the youngest members in RST. I remember Eddie being one of the coolest ones in our group and always treating me like a little brother. We had so much fun when we were young."

Only a couple years later, Peter recalled, things turned rough. "I remember some of the skaters from RST getting ‘jumped’ (initiated) so that they could join the Crazys gang (CYS). The main gangs in K-town were B. K., A. B., K. K., and U-Boys. We were one of the first gangs to start playing around with guns at that time.

"CYS was also gaining popularity in the community and there were a lot of members even back then—around 100 of us. We had two main cliques: Koreans from K-Town Crazys and the Latinos from Mayberry Street Crazys."

By a gang, Peter Lee means a group of friends hanging together in their hood and being loyal to each other for mutual protection from threats and violence in the mean streets. "To me," he elaborated, "being in a gang wasn’t about crime."

"Eddie was ‘down’ for his friends but was always straight-minded. We used to call him Eddie ‘Rambo’ because he knew how to handle guns well. Despite the knowledge of guns and gangs, Eddie had a good heart, knew the difference between right and wrong, and was someone to look up to."

Unfortunately, Peter Lee said, many of the gang members were falling into drugs and anti-social activities. "But Eddie wasn’t into any of that," Peter said.

Peter says he is still haunted by Eddie’s courageous act simply because he didn’t have to die so young. “But he couldn’t help it. He was ‘down’ for his helpless people."

Eddie Lee’s martyrdom undoubtedly helped motivate Peter Lee to join the GAP experiment as a volunteer three years ago, said GAP founder Do Kim, now a second-year law school student at UCLA. Like Eddie, Do grew up in a world of drugs, suicides, gang shoot outs and countless "dead spirits." A survivor, Do finished Harvard University and returned to his neighborhood to do something for the troubled post-Sa-ee-gu community.

"Without fail," said Do Kim, "Peter came every Friday night to help mentor the GAP youth. Right from the start I could tell he was something special.."

A latter-day Eddie, Peter Lee quickly developed a good rapport with them. In turn they looked up to him, according to Do.

Several months later, Do Kim hired Peter as the full-fledged GAP coordinator with funds from the Americorps program. Peter calls GAP a "second family" for troubled youths to find a safe space away from the violence in the streets and get training for jobs and community service.

As for Peter’s MO (modus operandi) Kim said, "He is able to get rival gang members to break down their ‘fronts’ and get to know each other as people instead of members of this gang or that gang."

Do Kim summed up: "Some people do great things building organizations or businesses, but Peter deals with life and death situations every day. He’s in the business of saving lives and changing lives. And I think that’s a good business to be in."

Peter’s big brother, up there in the Big Sky, would be proud.


K. W. Lee edited The Korea Times English Edition from 1990-92. He lectures investigative journalism in the UC systems.