
Note: This is an encore post from 2005 and originally appeared on the 1947project.
Her name was Vesta Belle and she was 17, an honor student at Jefferson High, a mile and a half from her home at 5320 Holmes Ave. You might think she got her name in the paper for earning a scholarship or receiving an academic award.
Instead, her 14-year-old brother, Carlisle, came home from a playground and found Vesta Belle Sapenter’s body in her bedroom. She was partially undressed and had been strangled with a thin hemp cord. With so many murders of women in Los Angeles, you might expect The Times to give it decent play, but Vesta Belle got two paragraphs on Page 8. Just enough to give a few details and that fact that she was black.

On the final day of May, 1954, I had an appointment to meet a wiry little Italian immigrant by the name of Simon Rodia.
Don’t get him wrong, writer Don Quinn loves the Hawaiian Islands. But during his latest visit — his 17th, by the way, from which he has just returned — be became painfully aware of the natives’ passionate regard for “The Wedding Song” or “Ke Kali Ne Au.”







