Two days after Veterans Day was unseasonably warm and reminiscent of summer. I wasn’t planning on doing much except to drive over the Vincent Thomas Bridge to pick up a book. But my trip to Long Beach was stalled by a bridge closure due to a reported “jumper,” who had climbed up the west tower. This wouldn’t be the first time this has happened.
At around 10 a.m. I received a text message from one of my longshoreman friends asking, “Why is there no press coverage of this guy on top of the bridge?”
I replied, “Probably because he didn’t jump. Is he still up there?”
I actually wanted to know so I could plan my trip to Long Beach. Well, he was still there. So my next call was to Los Angeles Port Police Captain, Dan Cobos.
“It’s a funny thing that you called just now,” Cobos says. “Yes he’s still up there and we’re negotiating to get him down. The thing is we’ve offered him several incentives to come down, but the one thing he’s asking for is to be interviewed by the media and he specifically asked for you!”
“By name?” I replied.
“Yes,” Cobos kind of laughed thinking that I might not take this seriously.
So, I thought for a moment and then considered that I’d never interviewed anyone who wanted to jump off of a bridge. “Is this guy serious about jumping?”
“No, he’s a veteran trying to make a statement and he wants it on camera.”
So I consented and rounded up my team to go see what this was all about. I was curious, and this appeared to be an exclusive.
It was sometime past noon when I arrived at the Caltrans parking lot at the south side of the foot of the bridge and soon Capt. Cobos showed up. “So what’s the deal?” I ask.
“I am told this guy, Brian Thomas, has climbed up on the bridge twice before. He’s an ex-marine and he says he’s been wronged by the Marine Corp”.
“So what does he want?”
“A bucket of hot wings, some Gatorade, a hotel room, a bus ticket back to Peoria, Illinois, and an interview with you.”
I laughed, “Really?”
At this point, I’m flabbergasted but skeptical. I wondered just what this man’s true intentions were, but more than willing to help out the Port Police just to get the bridge back open for everyone, not just myself. I’m also rather amazed at the amount of patience and sincerity expressed by Cobos, as it’s now been 36 hours on this incident. It’s taken up the resources of the California Highway Patrol, Los Angeles Police Department, Los Angeles Fire Department, and the Port Police just to negotiate to get Mr. Thomas down from his perch. I wondered if this is a normal procedure?
My crew has set up their telephoto lens so we can actually see him start to descend the large wire cables to solid ground. It seemed to take forever. After making it down from the bridge, he was transported to the Metro Park and Ride adjacent to the Route 47 offramp on Harbor boulevard in the back of a port pickup truck with a motorcycle escort. He was then checked for injuries by the fire department’s emergency medical technicians.
Standing there in the parking lot surrounded by police is this 58-year-old black man in full Marine dress uniform with a graying beard. He’s not handcuffed nor wrapped in a straight jacket. He was just casually chatting with the officers. Joking in fact, the officers looked relieved.
I learned this was his third time climbing the bridge. The past two times he climbed the bridge and was detained, he was placed on a 72-hour mental health hold, then released. This time the Veterans Administration didn’t want to get involved. In fact, the police weren’t even going to arrest and book him because he’d just be cited for a misdemeanor trespassing violation. According to Cobos, if he were booked into custody he’d be out with the same citation.
“What would be the point?” Cobos said. The bridge would be back open soon either way.
So I interviewed the marine, Brian Thomas, and listened to his long, sad story of how he was wrongly convicted in a court-martial on a theft and minor drug paraphernalia charge. He said he was framed and convicted with false evidence. He explained that over the years, he has attempted to get his name and record cleared multiple times but no one was willing to help him. You can view the whole interview here and judge for yourself.
Cobos, who is a veteran himself, seems skeptical of his story but is just relieved that the case ended without further incident and thanked me for the assist. The video is packaged up and offered to the three major TV stations in Los Angeles as the Port of LA has been in the news for weeks because of the congestion in the harbors, but no they’re not interested. And like I told my Longie friend, “If he doesn’t jump they probably won’t be interested in it.”
In the end, he was just another of the lost homeless vets wandering our streets looking for a home. His story differs in detail, but not the end result. He climbed the Vincent Thomas Bridge the day after Veterans Day to draw attention to his fight to correct a wrong he believes he had suffered ― a grievance perhaps too old to be appealed today, but the grievance persists.
So I pack up and my film crew take off and I head back to downtown San Pedro to wait for the bridge to actually reopen. It’s now around 3 pm. I’m driving along Centre Street just south of the Port Police station when I catch out of the corner of my eye a tall black man in a Marine uniform and white cap walking along. I pull up and park on Seventh Street and get out to see.
“It’s got to be the same guy,” I thought. “But why is he wandering around town?”
I checked the liquor store. He wasn’t there. I went inside GodMothers saloon. He’s not there either. So I ask one of the regulars if a guy in a Marine uniform came in?
“Yeah I think he’s in the bathroom in the back,” was the reply. So I wait.
And sure enough, he comes back bellies up to the bar next to me and he orders a Jack Daniels and I order tequila on the rocks. I think this is probably the most hilarious ending to the bridge standoff that I could not have ever imagined. So I posted a short Facebook live interview with him drinking at GodMothers and I wonder if he’ll ever get back to Peoria and if he’ll ever get the help he needs.
He paid for his own drink and then walked back to the police station to get the hotel room they offered him out in West Covina.
“I have a friend out there,” he says before he leaves.
The bridge opened back up at 3:29 p.m. and I took my trip to Long Beach thinking, “what a curious day this has been. And this could have ended in so many tragic ways.”
I don’t think anyone would believe this if I hadn’t recorded it.