The Brief

Carly Usdin was the kind of kid who spent a lot of time in imaginary worlds: reading comic books, imagining superheroes and watching David Copperfield specials.

Whenever their parents hit the garage door button, Carly liked to stand next to it with their arm out, as if they were controlling the lifting and lowering of the heavy metal gate.

Carly Usdin in 2023.

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When Carly Usdin moved to Los Angeles, they became obsessed with getting inside its iconic members-only club for magicians, the Magic Castle.

The Castle: Part 1

When Carly Usdin moved to Los Angeles, they became obsessed with getting inside its iconic members-only club for magicians, the Magic Castle.

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Carly knew they didn’t have real magical abilities, but in pretending they found something they needed — a sense of power.

“I think many kids feel powerless,” they say, “but especially the kid that I was, getting teased at school for being smart and being queer and being Jewish, and not even knowing I was queer yet, and wanting out of that so badly.”

Carly Usdin as a child.

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Carly did get out. They left their small town in central New Jersey, became a filmmaker and married their now-wife. And then in 2013, at the age of 30, they moved to Los Angeles.

In L.A., Carly was reminded of their childhood interest in magic, and started to get curious about why there were so few famous women magicians. At the time they were identifying as a woman, their gender assigned at birth (they now are non-binary and trans). While in a research rabbit hole, they started reading about the Magic Castle, an exclusive members-only Los Angeles club for magicians and lovers of magic.

Carly had heard of the Magic Castle. They knew it had a reputation for being frequented by celebrities, that its former president was Neil Patrick Harris and that it was invitation-only. And Carly desperately wanted to get in.

Besides being invited by a member, there are several workarounds to getting into the Magic Castle — for example, if you book a stay at the Magic Castle hotel. But gaining longer-term access is more difficult.

“I started doing research into the Magic Castle,” Carly remembers, “and I found the Magic Castle website and it said ‘we offer adult magic classes.’ And the kicker is that while you're enrolled in lessons, you basically have a temporary membership to the castle.”

The Magic Castle in Hollywood on Oct. 13, 2021.

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Carly had found a backdoor into the Castle.

And Carly was aware they didn't fit the magician stereotype. Actually, that’s what made them excited about it.

“If you say magician, you get a very specific image in your head," says Carly. "It's probably an older cis white heterosexual man, because that has long been the archetype of the magician in American popular culture. So I was like, I'm gonna infiltrate. I'm gonna take my queer self in there, cause it's a space that's clearly not meant for me.”

Why is the Magic Castle a big deal? 

The Magic Castle , or just “The Castle” as many members call it, is run by the Academy of Magical Arts. Just a few blocks from the tourist center of Hollywood, the Castle, with its stained glass windows and turrets, looks like a French chateau plucked out of a Disney movie. It was built as a private home around 1909. And then in 1963 it opened as a private clubhouse for magicians, complete with a liquor license.

An evening at the Castle requires not only an invitation but adherence to a dress code, an admission charge, parking fees and the purchase of an entree. If you throw in a cocktail, that’s at least a $100 night out. There are no photos or videos allowed inside. The exclusivity of the experience is part of the allure.

Besides its mystique to the layperson, the Castle is an important institution in the world of magic because being a member, or better yet, a booked performer, serves as a stamp of legitimacy.

“There isn't a Ph.D. in magician,” says magician and Castle member Paul Draper. “So, when I'm auditioning for a television show, when I speak to an event planner, the first question I'm asked is, 'Have you ever performed at the Magic Castle?'"

Magician Kayla Drescher performs at the Magic Castle on Oct. 13, 2021.

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The Castle is also a coveted and somewhat rare performance venue, especially in contrast to the kinds of gigs that sustain many magicians.

“You know who doesn't wanna watch magic? A bunch of people at their company holiday party. They wanna get drunk and just talk about how weird the year was,” says magician Kayla Drescher.

But at the Castle?

“People actually put in the effort to come watch magic,” says Kayla. “They're all dressed up and they're so excited to see you.”

Membership at the Castle comes with other benefits: access to its library, spaces to workshop tricks and a place to connect with some of the best magicians in the world.

“You have all these magicians that have performed here, you have all this history,” says Kayla. “There's a library of all these books with secrets. The guy who made the Statue of Liberty disappear for David Copperfield? He's just sitting at the bar. All the people, all the tricks, all the stories, it all just exists in one place.”

Beginner's magic

Carly was full of nerves driving to their first class at the Magic Castle in the fall of 2014.

Inside, there was a small reception area lined with bookshelves and no doors. Unsure of what to do next, Carly examined the bookshelves, drawn to one particular statue of an owl.

“The people working at the front told me you have to say the magic word in order for the owl to grant you admittance to the Castle,” says Carly. So they spoke the magic words (“Open Sesame”) and the bookshelf pulled back to reveal the Castle.

“Just that moment alone, I was giddy,” Carly says. “Basically you're in a parlor-looking bar area and there's like a big old timey fireplace. The color palette is like reds and golds and purples. All the wood is old, dark wood. It is Victorian, dark, moody, so much old art and old artifacts of magic. It feels like exactly this thing that's plucked out of time.”

The Close-up Gallery at the Magic Castle, in Hollywood on Oct. 13, 2021.

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The Castle can feel maze-like, with its various floors and bars. Every week there’s a new schedule of booked magicians performing at the many theaters, from the intimate Close-up Gallery to the larger stage at The Palace of Mystery. There are tables for magician members to set up impromptu shows. And a self-playing piano takes song requests (if they’re directed to the ghost of Irma — and yes, she also takes tips).

After several wrong turns, Carly found their way to a small instructional classroom. And they were delighted by every aspect of that first class.

“It felt like being back in school,” they say. “We went over the rules of being a magician. Some of the primary ones being, you don't do the same illusion for the same audience more than once. Obviously, you do not reveal your secrets.”

Carly remembers the initial classes being focused on card tricks: how to handle a deck, different ways of shuffling and grips. And Carly was delighted that they learned it all easily.

Carly has obsessive compulsive disorder — OCD. In high school, before they got proper care, they had a tough time focusing because of it. But learning magic tricks engaged their attention in a very specific way.

“When I was doing these tricks, I wasn't experiencing my OCD symptoms," Carly says. "It's just this perfect blend of mental and physical working in harmony where you have to be paying attention on both levels really closely.”

Carly Usdin practicing close-up magic, circa 2014-2015.

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Carly was in love. They didn’t want to become a professional magician, but they were constantly thinking about magic, carrying a deck of cards everywhere to practice, savoring the feeling of delight that came with successfully pulling off a trick.

After the beginner course ended, Carly took Magic 2 and then Magic 3 and Magic 4, learning coin tricks and more complicated illusions. After class, Carly would catch magic shows at the Castle with their classmates.

And they noticed that the Castle’s demographics matched their initial assumptions.

Stepping back in time

Several current and former Magic Castle members have described the experience of going to the club as stepping back in time, which comes with charms and also, drawbacks. Most glaringly, the demographics of the Castle.

A shelf hangs at The Houdini Seance Room at The Magic Castle on Oct. 24, 2008.

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Several members have described the club as mostly white and mostly male. In an email, a Castle representative said the club doesn’t keep data on the race of its members and did not provide data on the gender of members, either.

But according to one former member who gathered numbers from a Castle membership representative, in 2019 magician membership was 12% women.

Numbers of women performers at the Castle are even lower — the Castle’s own records identify only about 8% of performers over the last three years as being women.

That tracks with national estimates of women magicians in the U.S. For much of its history, performance magic in the Western world was exclusively male.

For magic historian and Magic Castle member Angela Sanchez, the story starts as far back as the Witch Trials in 16th century Europe.

“In a patriarchal society, for women to know something that men do not, is a bad thing. And so to be accused of being a witch is to be accused of having secret knowledge that a man does not have access to,” says Angela. “And so this notion that a witch, a woman who holds power, is adverse to what a woman should and ought to be, is something that cues you into how women in magic are generally treated in Western European societies.”

At the same time as women were being burned at the stake for witchcraft, there were men who earned money doing magic tricks at carnivals. In the 18th and 19th centuries in Europe and the U.S., magic made its way from street entertainment into Broadway theaters and the parlor rooms of upper classes.

There were some famous women magicians, notably English performer Adelaide Hermann, who was billed “the Queen of Magic,” as well as female assistants who would vanish or levitate, but many onstage assistants at the time were boys and for the most part, magic was a field for men.

And then in 1921, magic introduced a new role for women: being in peril.

John Shryock and his daughter Jasmine, 16, rehearse before their performance at the Magic Castle on Oct. 13, 2021.

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In 1921, illusionist P.T. Selbit specifically called for women to participate in what would become an iconic trick: sawing a woman in half.

“This was very much a situation that would go forward in branding magic with very clear gender roles,” says Angela. “The magician is a guy in a tux and a woman on stage is the individual who gets sawed in half, split apart and lit on fire.”

Carly was seeing echoes of this history at the Magic Castle in the ways that some magicians spoke about or interacted with women onstage, but they also saw signs of progress. They recalled their magic class being fairly diverse, and were inspired by a women magician’s group at the Castle, co-founded by Angela.

Carly dreamed about starting a group for queer magicians. Of getting to spend as much time as they liked in the immersive magical space of the Castle. And of being able to invite whomever they wanted.

Carly realized that they wanted to become a member.

The audition

There are different levels of membership at the Castle (for example, Junior, or Associate for magic-lovers) but to become a Magician Member requires several steps, including an application with essays and, most nerve-wracking for Carly, an audition.

Carly Usdin at the Magic Castle.

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Carly had heard horror stories about people bombing auditions and about how hard it was to impress the panel.

They picked out four tricks that they practiced for months.

“I was full of fear and dread driving there,” Carly says.

Carly remembers about five other people auditioning. All of them, hanging out at the bar, getting called downstairs, one … by one. Until finally … it was Carly’s turn to go before the panel.

“And I went in and there was like, I wanna say four or five magicians in there. I don't believe any of them were familiar to me, but they were all cis men. It was an incredibly intimidating room. They do a little interview. And then they're like, all right, show us your tricks.”

It didn’t go as smoothly as Carly had practiced.

Carly Usdin with a spread of cards.

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“The thing with close-up magic especially, is that it's all about your hands,” Carly says. “And the thing with anxiety is that my hands were shaking. I felt like I fumbled stuff and it wasn't as clean as it could have been.”

The panel stopped Carly, telling them they had seen enough. Carly felt like they’d blown their chance and went back to the bar to wait for the bad news.

“And then they came and, and got us. And so we had to go back to the room downstairs. And they're like, congratulations, all six of you made it. And I wanted to cry.”

Carly was officially a member.

They were on the inside of this private, exclusive, prestigious magicians club. For Carly it was like being handed a golden key, because members can invite any guests they want. It meant Carly could open up the Castle to their friends ... people who didn’t necessarily look like the typical magic showgoer.

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“I had no misgivings of like … I'm gonna change the face of the community,” Carly says. “It was on a very small scale of like, I just wanna bring my friends and then from there, if I can start a group for queer magicians, that would be really cool.”

Did Carly think the Castle would be receptive?

“I really didn't know.”

In Part II, Carly finds out. Coming Dec. 6, 2023. 

It's spring break season in the U.S. — and travelers are facing long airport lines as security screeners work without pay while the Department of Homeland security is shut down.

Congressional Democrats have declined to fund the agency in an attempt to force reforms of federal immigration enforcement practices.

Wait times at major hubs in Houston and Atlanta reached two hours on Friday, while New Orleans's Louis Armstrong International Airport advised passengers to arrive at least three hours before their scheduled departures. In Philadelphia, airport officials closed three security checkpoints entirely this week because of short staffing.

On Saturday, President Trump threatened to send Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents to staff airport security lanes if Democrats don't "immediately" agree to fund DHS. A bipartisan group of senators has been negotiating with the White House over immigration enforcement and ending the shutdown.

"I will move our brilliant and patriotic ICE Agents to the Airports where they will do Security like no one has ever seen before, including the immediate arrest of all Illegal Immigrants who have come into our Country," Trump posted on Truth Social. In a follow-up post he said he told ICE to "GET READY" to deploy to airports on Monday.

Why are wait times so long?

Officials say wait times are unpredictable and can fluctuate sharply as airports struggle with Transportation Security Administration staffing shortages.

TSA staffers are considered essential workers, so about 50,000 have been working without pay due to the shutdown that started Feb. 14. Last week, they missed their first full paychecks. The Department of Homeland Security says more than 300 TSA officers have quit. More than half of TSA staff in Houston called out sick and nearly a third called out in Atlanta and New Orleans last week, DHS said.

The staffing shortage comes as travel has also been disrupted by severe weather, and as schools across the country close for spring break.

Some 2.8 million people were projected to travel on U.S. airlines each day in March and April, adding up to a record 171 million passengers, according to the industry group Airlines for America.

What do officials say?

Transportation officials are warning the situation could get worse if the shutdown isn't resolved. A second missed paycheck would put even more strain on TSA workers, Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy told CNN on Friday.

"If a deal isn't cut, you're going to see what's happening today look like child's play," Duffy said. "Is it still safe as you go through the airport? Yes, but it takes a lot longer because we have less agents working." He added that some smaller airports may be forced to temporarily close if more staff calls out.

In the U.K., Foreign Office officials are also warning travelers of "travel disruption" caused by "longer than usual queues at some U.S. airports," and recommended passengers check with their travel provider, airport, or airline for guidance.

On Saturday, billionaire Elon Musk weighed in with an offer to personally pay TSA staff.

"I would like to offer to pay the salaries of TSA personnel during this funding impasse that is negatively affecting the lives of so many Americans at airports throughout the country," Musk posted on X early Saturday morning.

U.S. law generally bars government employees from receiving outside compensation for their work.

Even with disruptions, travel demand is still high

On top of long security wait times and weather impacts, travel is being affected by the war in Iran, which is driving up global oil prices.

On Friday, United Airlines said it would cut some flights over the next six months after jet fuel prices doubled in recent weeks. Capacity cuts are likely to send airfares even higher, even as ticket prices are already rising, said Clint Henderson, a spokesperson for the travel website The Points Guy.

Still, he said, none of that seems to be deterring Americans from flying.

"The appetite for travel is insatiable," he said. "People seem willing to endure a lot of stuff to travel. And I don't see any signs of that decreasing."

How can travelers prepare?

Travel experts say it's not just long wait times that travelers should prepare for — it's the uncertainty.

"Every day this goes on, it's getting worse and worse and worse," Henderson said.

Here are some tips on how to prepare for upcoming air travel:

1. Know before you go

Many airport websites list estimated security wait times. That should be the first place you check to get a sense of how long lines might be, Henderson says. (TSA also estimates wait times on its website and app, but that's not being regularly updated because of the shutdown, he added.)

"Knowledge is power," Henderson said. "You should know what's going on at your local airport."

He noted there are 20 U.S. airports where security screening is done by private contractors, not the TSA — and they are not experiencing staffing shortages or long waits. Some are smaller regional airports, but the list also includes some larger hubs, including San Francisco International Airport and Kansas City International Airport.

"There's big, big, big metropolitan areas where it's not an issue at all," Henderson said.

2. Budget extra time

If you're someone who shows up at the airport when your flight starts boarding, think twice, says travel writer Chris Dong.

"I'm the type of traveler who usually arrives pretty last minute," Dong said, "but I think that that advice would not be sound for the current situation."

Even if wait times are listed as short, things can change on a dime. Dong recently flew out of John F. Kennedy Airport in New York and found the TSA PreCheck line unexpectedly closed.

"So then everyone that was funneled through the regular line, it was an extra like 20, 30 minutes," he said. "I was sweating it out because I usually arrive super last-minute. And those levels of uncertainty are just higher now with the shutdown."

3. Consider biometric screening

Henderson typically recommends signing up for TSA PreCheck or the Global Entry program to move through airport security more quickly — and to opt in to biometric screening. That has to be done in advance, and travelers also have to choose biometric screening in their airline apps.

"Make sure if that's an option that you're opted in for that, because that will save you so much agita," he said.

For those who haven't signed up in advance, there is a last-minute alternative: the private CLEAR program, which allows people to enroll at the airport. Henderson notes it's pricey — annual membership costs $209 — but that some credit card companies will refund that fee.

"For me to skip a three-hour line is probably worth the membership fee, especially if you know your credit card will pay you back for it," he said.

That said, expedited screening lanes are not always faster than regular screening, both Henderson and Dong warned. Always check what all the lanes look like when you arrive at the airport.

4. Make a plan B

If you miss a connection or your flight is canceled, be proactive about rebooking. "Have all the tools available to you in the toolbox in case things go wrong," Henderson advises.

That includes installing your airline's app on your smartphone and writing down their customer service number, so you aren't scrambling to find it.

"And then, you know, obviously have a plan B," Henderson said. "Know what other airlines fly the route that you want to take in case, you know, you missed your Delta flight and American is offering a flight you can take later that day."

He says while airlines don't generally like to rebook passengers on competitors' flights, it's worth asking. He also recommends having the information at hand to give to customer service agents, including flight number, airline and departure time.

And if an airline cancels your flight in the U.S., you're entitled to a refund, according to the Department of Transportation.
Copyright 2026 NPR

Updated March 21, 2026 at 17:36 PM ET

Robert Mueller, the former FBI director and special counsel who led the high-profile investigation into Russian interference in the 2016 election and the possible obstruction of justice by President Trump, died on Friday at 81.

"With deep sadness, we are sharing the news that Bob passed away," his family said in a statement Saturday shared with NPR. No cause of death was given.

Mueller had been diagnosed with Parkinson's disease four years ago, his family told The New York Times in August.

Trump, who openly despised Mueller and his investigation, celebrated his death on Saturday.

"Good, I'm glad he's dead," the president posted on social media. "He can no longer hurt innocent people!"

WilmerHale, the law firm where Mueller served as a partner, remembered Mueller as a "friend" who was "an extraordinary leader and public servant and a person of the greatest integrity."

"His service to our country, including as a decorated officer in the Marine Corps, as FBI Director, and at the Department of Justice, was exemplary and inspiring," a spokesperson for WilmerHale told NPR in a statement. "We are deeply proud that he was our partner. Our thoughts are with Bob's family and loved ones during this time."

Former President Barack Obama on Saturday called Mueller "one of the finest directors in the history of the FBI, transforming the bureau after 9/11 and saving countless lives."

"But it was his relentless commitment to the rule of law and his unwavering belief in our bedrock values that made him one of the most respected public servants of our time," Obama wrote on social media. "Michelle and I send our condolences to Bob's family, and everyone who knew and admired him."

Path to public service

Born on Aug. 7, 1944 in New York City, Mueller was raised in Philadelphia and graduated from Princeton University in 1966. He received a master's degree in international relations from New York University.

Mueller, throughout his career, ran toward tough assignments. Following the lead of a classmate at Princeton, Mueller enrolled in the Marines and served in the Vietnam war. He earned the Bronze Star for rescuing a colleague. Mueller said he felt compelled to serve during that conflict, an idea he returned to throughout his life.

Law professor and former Justice Department lawyer Rory Little knew Mueller for many years.

"Bob is kind of a straight arrow, you know, wounded in Vietnam," Little said. "You keep wanting to hunt for where is the crack in that façade — 'Where is the real Bob Mueller?' — and after a while you begin to realize that's the real Bob Mueller. He is exactly who he appears to be. This kind of sour-faced, not a lot of humor, sort of all-business guy. That's him."

But with his closest friends, Mueller let down his guard. They teased him — saying Mueller would have made an excellent drill instructor on Parris Island, where Marine recruits are trained.

Instead, Mueller went to law school at the University of Virginia. He joined the Justice Department in 1976. There, he prosecuted crimes, big and small, for U.S. attorneys in San Francisco and Boston. He was a partner at Hale and Dorr, a Boston law firm now known as WilmerHale.

He later became a senior litigator prosecuting homicides at the U.S. attorney's office in Washington, D.C.

Head of the FBI

In 2001, President George W. Bush nominated him to serve as the director of the FBI. Mueller was sworn in a week before the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks.

"I had been a prosecutor before, so I anticipated spending time on public corruption cases and narcotics cases and bank robberies, and the like. And Sept. 11th changed all of that," Mueller told NPR during an interview in 2013.

He shifted the bureau's attention to fighting terrorism. He staffed up the headquarters in Washington. He pushed those agents to try to predict crimes and to act before another tragedy hit.

"He directed and implemented what is arguably the most significant changes in the FBI's 105-year history," said his former FBI deputy, John Pistole.

Along the way, Mueller drew some criticism when his agents erred. During the investigation of the deadly anthrax attacks, the bureau focused on the wrong man as its lead suspect.

Mueller left the bureau in 2013.

Return to the national spotlight

After Trump fired FBI Director James Comey, Mueller in May 2017 was appointed by then Deputy Attorney General Rod Rosenstein as special counsel to oversee the probe into Russian meddling in the 2016 election and possible connections to Trump associates.

Trump called the investigation "a witch hunt" and Republicans in Congress started to attack the investigators.

When then the investigation eventually concluded in March 2019 with the more than 400-page "Mueller report," the special counsel said the investigation did not establish that Trump's campaign or associates colluded with the Russian government to influence the 2016 election. The report did not take a position on whether Trump obstructed justice.

Mueller said the report spoke for itself. But Democrats wanted more and insisted he testify. A reluctant witness, Mueller once again fulfilled his duty. He was visibly older than at the time of his appointment and kept his testimony restrained.

He said Justice Department guidelines would not allow him to charge a sitting president with criminal wrongdoing. But he also refused to exonerate Trump.

"If we had had confidence that the president clearly did not commit a crime, we would have said so," Mueller later told Congress.

In the end, the team charged 37 people and entities, including former campaign chair Paul Manafort, national security adviser Michael Flynn and 25 Russians.

Trump went on to grant clemency to or back away from criminal cases against many of the people Mueller's investigators had charged.

Copyright 2026 NPR

At the Koreatown Senior and Community Center, people were used to seeing Keum-soon Lee arrive early. When she didn’t show up for the 11 a.m. group harmonica class at the center last Friday, people took notice. 

“She would always be there first,” said conductor Eun-young Kim. “If she couldn’t come, she would tell me ahead of time. This time, I didn’t receive any messages from her. I thought, something isn’t right.”

Kim tried calling and sending messages. She didn’t get a response.

Members of the center later learned that Lee, 73, was critically injured in a hit-and-run crash while biking home in Koreatown after attending early morning prayer at her church. She died in a hospital March 13 from her injuries, according to the Los Angeles Police Department.

“I was shocked,” said Jin-soon Baek, who has played with Lee for years. “We’ve been friends for a long time. We ate together, practiced together. She was like a sibling to me.

“She was so hardworking. Always the first one there to sign in for class. She’d walk ahead of me and I’d follow behind. That’s how it always was.”

Baek, who is in her 80s, said the two also shared something more personal: Both had cancer.

“I had cancer years ago, and she was going through treatment recently,” Baek said. “We understood each other.”

In January, Lee played with the harmonica ensemble at an LA Kings game. Lee spoke with a journalist about undergoing surgery and chemotherapy, and what the group meant to her. 

“I think I’ve almost fully recovered,” Lee told journalist Chase Karng at the hockey game. “Even while receiving chemotherapy, I felt encouraged when I heard that I could perform here.”

At the Koreatown Senior and Community Center, people were used to seeing Keum-soon Lee arrive early. When she didn’t show up for the 11 a.m. group harmonica class at the center last Friday, people took notice.

Lee was born in 1952 in South Korea and immigrated to the United States in 1998. She was an elder at Saehan Presbyterian Church in Pico Union and is survived by her husband, Sang-rae Lee, and son, Young-jo Lee.

The senior center, where Lee was a fixture and known as a reliable friend, has designated March 20 as a day of mourning.

On Friday, Lee’s church held a funeral service, where members of the harmonica ensemble performed the hymn, “Nearer My God to Thee,” in her memory.

“I usually don’t attend funeral services, but I had to come for hers,” said Alice Kim. “Whenever I came to church, I would see her watering the grass, bent over, and she would smile and say, ‘You’re here, Alice,’ and hand me the Sunday bulletin.”

In her eulogy, elder Gyu-sook Lee said the sudden loss has hit the congregation hard.

“She always greeted everyone with a warm smile,” she said. “She was the kind of person who always stepped forward first to do the hard work that no one else wanted to do. And when she took something on, she saw it through to the end.”

At the Koreatown Senior and Community Center, people were used to seeing Keum-soon Lee arrive early. When she didn’t show up for the 11 a.m. group harmonica class at the center last Friday, people took notice.

“She still had so many years ahead of her,” Baek said. “She was younger than us. Full of hope. It feels like it should have been me instead.”

According to police, Lee was riding through a crosswalk when a white Dodge Ram truck turning right struck her around 6:40 a.m. near Olympic Boulevard and Vermont Avenue. The driver briefly stopped, then drove away, authorities said.

Investigators found the truck and are looking into whether the driver was impaired on drugs or alcohol. The truck was seized and there was no information about the driver.

Kim, the conductor, said Lee was the first person to reach out to her when she started to lead the ensemble in September. 

“She sent me a message saying thank you for coming,” Kim said. “She was such a special person to me.” 

At Friday’s service, speaker after speaker described Lee as someone who was a light in every community she was part of. 

“The way she served the church behind the scenes became a lesson in faith for all of us. There isn’t a single part of this church that hasn’t felt her touch. Her warmth, her love, her dedication — I can still feel it,” Gyu-sook Lee said.

When Gilbert Lindsay became the first Black person elected to Los Angeles City Council in 1963, it gave the residents of the predominantly Black District 9 someone who understood the challenges they faced living in South Central. 

This area was the center of Black political power in LA because it was one of the few places in the city Black people were allowed to live and thrive due, in part, to housing restrictions. For the next 63 years, voters in this district — which includes historic South Central, Exposition Park and a small portion of downtown Los Angeles — consecutively chose a Black representative. 

That will end with Curren D. Price Jr., the current District 9 councilmember who can’t run again due to term limits. 

Twelve candidates announced campaigns in February to replace Price. Of them, six candidates have qualified to be on the June 2 primary election ballot, none of whom are Black. They include: Estuardo Mazariegos, Elmer Roldan, Jorge Hernandez Rosas, Jorge Nuño, Martha Sánchez and Jose Ugarte. 

The list is a reflection of the demographic shift of the area, but candidates also told The LA Local that it shows the strength of the district’s Black-Latino political coalition. And with the civil rights gains since the 1960s, while some locals are concerned that issues facing Black voters won’t get the attention they need, others who live in the district said they’re less concerned with what their representative looks like. Instead, they said they want someone who listens and gets things done. 

“As long as you do good in the community, we’re going to be happy,” said Dennis Anya, who works on Central Avenue and has lived in the district for nearly 40 years.

What the demographic shifts in District 9 mean for the June election

The upcoming election comes as the demographics have changed in District 9 and South LA. The Black population in South Los Angeles was 81% in 1965, according to a special census survey from November 1965 of South and East LA. 

As of 2021, District 9, specifically, is about 78% Latino and 13% Black, according to LA City Council population demographic data taken that year as part of a redistricting effort. 

Officials have predicted the district’s shift for years. Former City Councilmembers Kevin De León and Nury Martinez discussed the district’s future in the leaked 2021 audio — checkered with racist remarks — that the LA Times reported in 2022.“This will be [Price’s] last four years,” De Leon said at one point in the conversation, the transcript of which the LA Times published in full. “That eventually becomes a Latino seat.” 

Erin Aubry Kaplan, a writer and columnist who traces her family’s roots to South Central, told The LA Local that because District 9 has historically voted for a Black candidate, there is some anxiety amongst Black voters about losing Black representation in Los Angeles. 

“I would hope that whoever wins, will carry the interest of Black folk forward,” she said.

Manuel Pastor, a USC professor and co-author of “South Central Dreams: Finding Home and Community in South LA,” told The LA Local that traditionally, voters are older. While District 9 is now home to a younger, immigrant community, they may not vote at the same rate as older generations, and undocumented residents are ineligible to vote.  

Pastor said it’s likely for this reason that the current District 9 candidates are not emphasizing being Latino but are modeling their campaigns after other city leaders and focusing on Black-Latino solidarity. 

“Just because the demographics have changed, doesn’t mean that the voting population has changed,” Pastor said.  

Here’s what the candidates say about the transformation of District 9

Chris Martin, one of the two Black candidates who campaigned for the seat but did not qualify for the ballot, said he believes the city’s Black elected officials should have supported Black candidates in the race. Martin said he will challenge the city clerk’s decision on his nomination petition in court. 

“The story of Black political power in the city of Los Angeles is dying,” Martin said. “I felt like I had a good chance of keeping it alive.” 

When Gilbert Lindsay became the first Black person elected to Los Angeles City Council in 1963, it gave the residents of the predominantly Black District 9 someone who understood the challenges they faced living in South Central.

Michelle Washington, the other Black candidate who also did not qualify, did not respond to a request for comment.Price, the current District 9 councilmember, endorsed his deputy Jose Ugarte in the race and wrote in a statement that this election is about solidarity. 

“As a Black man who has served a majority-Latino district, I know that progress in South Central has always come from Black and Brown families moving forward together,” Price wrote. “We’ve had to fight harder for housing, safety, opportunity and the basic investments every neighborhood deserves. And when we’ve made gains, it’s because we stood united.”  

Five of the six candidates who qualified for the ballot told The LA Local that not having a Black candidate on the ballot doesn’t diminish the place of the district’s Black community. (Candidate Jorge Hernandez Rosas did not return requests for comment.) 

“It has always been a Black community and will always be a Black community. This isn’t about a passing of the baton or one community taking over another. It’s about building a solidarity movement,” Estuardo Mazariegos said. 

Elmer Roldan, who carries endorsements from LA Mayor Karen Bass and City Council President Marqueece Harris-Dawson, said the district needs a councilmember who won’t leave anyone behind.“We have to avoid at all costs contributing to Black erasure and Black displacement,” Roldan said.

Ugarte said that the major quality of life problems — like dirty streets and broken street lights — affecting the neighborhood’s Black and brown communities haven’t changed since he was a child living in the district. 

“The same issues are still here,” he said. 

Here’s what happens next

If you haven’t registered to vote and you want to receive a vote-by-mail ballot, you must register to vote by May 18.

Results from the primary election will be certified by July 2. If no candidate receives more than 50% of the vote, the top two candidates will move on to the general election on Nov. 3, according to the City Clerk’s website. 

The winner of District 9 will begin a four-year term Dec. 14.