LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

AUGUST 20, 2014

The People called Leila McClain for the second time.

The first time McClain had entered, she took one look at Sam and dropped as if tasered.

Hilda Nelson and Darren Versiga lifted her by the elbows and led her out.

“You don’t gotta be scared of him no more. I know we didn’t come all this way for you to fall apart,” said Nelson.

“I’m not scared,” said McClain. “I’m so…” She reached for the word. “I straight want to kill him. I want to kill that motherfucker.”

She pinned her shoulders back, dusted them off, reapplied her coral lipstick for the twelfth time.

All five foot three of her had scrapped with Samuel Little that long-ago night before running half-naked across four lanes of heavy traffic. The other three living victims had been left for dead or a third party intervened.

McClain was the only one of almost a hundred victims who got away by boxing him. She wasn’t the only one who tried. Plenty of Sam’s victims fought with all they had, as evidenced by his epithelial cells beneath their fingernails. They’d lost.

McClain’s heels on the polished hardwood floor were the only sound in the room. On the second try, her storied bowlegs carried a now middle-aged woman with a straightened coif, fussy magenta suit, and thin gap between her front teeth to the witness stand. Finally.

On the stand, McClain turned her back to Sam. A victim’s advocate sat behind her. McClain shrank into her suit, looked down at the hands folded in her lap.

She told a story of the night a predator had caught her scent, homed in on her, offered her a fifty for a date, charmed her into his car.

This spectacular fighter shook like a Chihuahua when facing a jury of…of who?

Why was she always on trial? The jury’s responsibility was to hold the presumption of innocence for her attacker. They had no such obligation to her. They had failed her again and again in this regard. She was guilty before she was born. And even so, she had come this far.

SILVERMAN: Leila, you seem nervous. Are you nervous?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: Okay. I’m just going to ask you some questions. Okay?

MCCLAIN: (No audible response.)

SILVERMAN: Is that alright with you?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: Okay. Did you fly in yesterday from out of state?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: Did you fly in with a friend of yours, Hilda Nelson?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: And also Detective Darren Versiga?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: Can you tell us how old you are?

MCCLAIN: 54.

SILVERMAN: Can you also please tell us where you were living back in November of 1981.

MCCLAIN: I had two residences. Which one would you like?

SILVERMAN: Let me ask you this: in terms of those two residences, were they both in the city of Pascagoula, Mississippi?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: And how old were you back in November of 1981?

MCCLAIN: I’m thinking I was about 19, 20.

SILVERMAN: Now, you said that you had two residences. Tell me where one was, and then we’ll talk about the second.

MCCLAIN: I had one residence where I was taking care of business. 147 Carver Village.

SILVERMAN: And where was your second residence?

MCCLAIN: 6900 Robinhood Drive, Regency Woods Apartments.

SILVERMAN: And which apartment did you actually live at?

MCCLAIN: Regency Woods.

SILVERMAN: And who did you live there with?

MCCLAIN: Along with three childrens.

SILVERMAN: Whose children?

MCCLAIN: Mines.

SILVERMAN: How far away was the Regency Woods residence from the Carver Village apartment, approximately?

MCCLAIN: Approximately—approximately 3 miles.

SILVERMAN: Now, you said that the apartment at 147 Carver Village was where you were “taking care of business.” What does that mean?

MCCLAIN: That means that—turn tricks, date for cash.

SILVERMAN: When you say “turn tricks” or “date for cash,” you’re talking about prostitution?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: And at that point in time in 1981, how were you making a living?

MCCLAIN: I ran a nightclub. I had just got laid off. I sold shoes out the trunk of my car. And I prostituted.

SILVERMAN: Why do you think you engaged in prostitution back then?

MCCLAIN: Because it was hardship. I had got laid off from the shipyard. I had three children. I am not the kind to kiss nobody’s behind for money. I don’t want to be on the welfare. That was my way for me and my kids to have the essentials that we needed.

SILVERMAN: Were you a single mother?

MCCLAIN: Yes.

SILVERMAN: Did you have any family around in the area that were supporting or helping you?

MCCLAIN: No, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: I want to direct your attention back to November 19 of 1981, let’s say a week before Thanksgiving. Do you remember that time period?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: Do you remember on that evening where you were?

MCCLAIN: Okay. I was at my nightclub at the beginning of the night. And then after it turned dark, I went walking through the path to the Front. That’s the Village.

In the day, thumping bass and the rise and fall of laughter spilled from the twenty-four seven juke joints, gambling dens, and brothels of the Front. Hustlers and whores of all stripes slinging every imaginable vice crawled the sidewalks. They called it a “Small California.”

If you wanted it, you could find it in Carver Village.

Booze, hos, Ts and blues, guns and dope, boosted goods sold cheap. It was a world under a bell jar, so ignored by law enforcement that its women formed a sacred pact to look out for each other, because they well knew no one else would.

MCCLAIN: I was renting a nightclub where you make as much money as you want in the club, you only have to pay one rate that month for rent.

SILVERMAN: Okay. And what was going on in the nightclub? Was that the normal atmosphere that we would expect to have in any type of bar?

MCCLAIN: No, ma’am. Not my bar. It was different because it was an old house. And it had rooms in the back, and the whole front was tooled out nice with a pool table and a bar. And sometimes, late at night, I stayed there.

SILVERMAN: So you had a—some rooms that you rented in the back, basically, of the nightclub?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am, to other girls.

SILVERMAN: And what was the name of that nightclub? If you remember.

MCCLAIN: B&B.

SILVERMAN: And was that near the Village, Carver Village?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: How far was it, would you say, from Carver Village?

MCCLAIN: The nightclub?

SILVERMAN: Yes.

MCCLAIN: It was a pathway. From me to that picture of George Washington. It was a pathway.

SILVERMAN: So it was very close?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

THE COURT: That’s 36—You’re talking about the picture in the back here?

MCCLAIN: Yes, sir. Straight path.

THE COURT: 36 feet from the witness stand.

SILVERMAN: Thank you, your honor. And so were you there for a period of time that night. Were you drinking at all?

MCCLAIN: No, ma’am. I’m not really a drinker.

SILVERMAN: How about doing any drugs? Were you doing any drugs?

MCCLAIN: At that time, I was not doing drugs.

SILVERMAN: Would it be safe to say that today, yesterday, the day before, you’re not using any drugs or alcohol, at this point?

MCCLAIN: I’m 19 years clean, December the 16th.

SILVERMAN: Congratulations. Let me ask you—that night, you said you left the B&B at some point?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: So back on the night of November 19 of 1981, you mentioned that you walked away from the B&B and you were walking through the Village; is that right?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: At some point did you come in contact with a male?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: And tell me about that.

MCCLAIN: It was this guy, an old lady, and a young boy kept driving past my club earlier that day. And when I went through the path—as I was coming through the path, the station wagon came through the path. The station wagon came around again, but it was only a man in it. He parked and got out.

SILVERMAN: Okay. Now, can you describe this vehicle?

MCCLAIN: It was a long, old station wagon with a hatch in—hatchback. And it had paneling, like this, on the sides.

SILVERMAN: Like wood paneling?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: And this man, once he departed the vehicle, did he speak with you?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am. I was walking along the road, and then, you know, the strip was so small, we kind of came in contact with each other.

SILVERMAN: You passed him?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am. And he say, “How you doing?” And I say, “Fine. And you?” He say, “Do you date?” I say, “Yes, I do.”

SILVERMAN: And what did you take that to mean when he said, “Do you date?”

MCCLAIN: “Do you prostitute?”

SILVERMAN: Okay. And you said?

MCCLAIN: “Yes.”

SILVERMAN: And what was the conversation at that point?

MCCLAIN: He said, “How much will it be?” I said, “$50.” He said, “No problem.” And then I said, “Well, I live right around the corner.” He said, “No. We going to the Shamrock Hotel.” It’s right across the street, so I’m figuring, you know, I’m in close distance to the strip, so I tells him yes.

SILVERMAN: So he told you that he wanted to go to the Shamrock. Where was the Shamrock in relationship to the Village?

MCCLAIN: One street over, with woods and clubs in between it.

SILVERMAN: “Woods,” meaning a rural area, with trees and things of that nature?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am. Brush.

SILVERMAN: Okay. So what did you do at that point?

MCCLAIN: At that point, him and I—well, him and I got in the station wagon and we was headed towards the Shamrock.

SILVERMAN: Was it just the two of you in the vehicle?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: Who was driving?

MCCLAIN: He was.

SILVERMAN: Okay. And you told him it was going to be $50. Before you got in the vehicle, did he give you any money?

MCCLAIN: No, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: And he started driving towards the Shamrock?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: And then what happened?

MCCLAIN: And as we was going around the corner, he passed the Shamrock, and I said, “You just passed it, turn around.” I say, “Go back that way.” He say, “I don’t need to turn around for what I want to do to you.” And he hit me right here, in between my eyes, and then coldcocked me behind my head. He fought me.

SILVERMAN: Let me ask you this: when you said that he made a comment to you, you showed us with your left—

MCCLAIN: My left—

SILVERMAN: Which arm? If you remember.

MCCLAIN: All right. I got it—I got to set myself up. He drive and he say, “…Not for what I want to do to you.” But the way he came around with that hand, pop—pops you in the head somewhere right there, that makes you just… It will either wake you up or knock you out. I woke up.

SILVERMAN: In terms of the way that you described it, for the record—Take a deep breath.

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN:—Your right hand, you showed us being on the steering wheel. Is that what he had?

MCCLAIN: Right hand on the steering wheel.

SILVERMAN: And left hand across you?

MCCLAIN: I’m facing him. He comes around, coldcocks me here, somewhere there (indicating). The next hit in between the eyes. And he knew he had stung me enough that he could go like—like his thumbs up in this part of your throat… And we in between an area—sorry—so small, he just jammed the car up in gear and went to wailing on me.

SILVERMAN: And when he was hitting you, did he hit you with an open hand or with a closed fist?

MCCLAIN: Ma’am, he was boxing me.

SILVERMAN: He was boxing you?

MCCLAIN: He was boxing my face and head and when he opened his hands, he use ’em to choke you.

SILVERMAN: When you said he was boxing you, is that a term that you would use for someone that’s hitting you with—

MCCLAIN: That I would use for hitting me.

SILVERMAN:—with both the right and the left fists?

Sam alternately muffled giggles or sneered as McClain spoke.

Juror #7 wept. It wasn’t just the woman’s wrenching testimony. Something about the viciousness in the set of Sam’s jaw, watching her speak. Those hateful eyes were the last things these women saw? After all the trying, even if they failed. Look at Audrey Nelson’s body. It was nothing if not a body that had tried everything. She had to leave under that monstrous gaze?

MCCLAIN: He was choking me, choking the life out of me. And I’m still fighting, scratching and kicking and biting, and he have to turn me loose because I’m biting his hands. If I can—anywhere I can get me a piece of him, I’m trying to get him like he was trying get me.

SILVERMAN: So you fought back?

MCCLAIN: With everything I had.

SILVERMAN: Did you think that he was trying to kill you, choke you to death?

MCCLAIN: Definitely. He was going to kill me.

SILVERMAN: And so what did you do?

MCCLAIN: I fought with him. We was jumping in and out of the station wagon.

SILVERMAN: You got out of the vehicle at some point?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am. But this man was so quick, he could catch me before I could get from here to here, from the station wagon, and drag me back. At one point, it was a guy came by on a bicycle, a little white boy come by on a bicycle, and he asked me did I need some help, and I couldn’t say nothing because at this time I couldn’t talk.

SILVERMAN: Because of the pressure that he had put on your throat?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am. And he say, “She drunk. That’s my ol’ lady.”

SILVERMAN: Who said that?

MCCLAIN: The guy.

SILVERMAN: Do you see that guy here today in court?

MCCLAIN: That’s him sitting right there in that chair, with that blue shirt on.

THE COURT: All right. Identifying the defendant, for the record.

McClain pointed, her entire arm shaking. Silverman said, “Look at me, now. Look at me.”

SILVERMAN: You seem to be shaking. Are you nervous?

MCCLAIN: I’m good, but I am nervous.

SILVERMAN: Okay. Don’t be nervous. Okay?

MCCLAIN: (No audible response.)

SILVERMAN: I know those are cheap words. Back in 1981, did the defendant look like he looks now?

MCCLAIN: No, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: Was he in a wheelchair?

MCCLAIN: No, ma’am. He was a big, healthy, strong Black man. He had hair on his head. He not standing up, but he about six-two or six-three. He was weighing 170 pounds. With them big hands.

SILVERMAN: So you said that you got out—actually out of the car at some point, and then he would drag you back in?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am. It was like ring around the rosies; in and out, in and out, in and out. And I’m talking about fighting me in between the time and laying me up on the car, choking me. You know how you push somebody up against something? And choking me. And—but I wouldn’t give up.

SILVERMAN: So how many times would you say you actually tried or did get out of the car? If you can remember.

MCCLAIN: I don’t want to tell a lie, but, frankly, I think it was about three times I got out and he’d get me back in. But I got a chance to get in that little small part of the back of the station wagon. He couldn’t get in there. And he was trying to get all up in there and whip me, and I come out through a little window about this big. By the time he got over from that seat part, reaching at me, I done got loose. I’m going across highway 90, no clothes on, just my bottoms and flip flops. I’m gone.

SILVERMAN: Okay. So when you got out, were you at all concerned that you were naked from the waist up?

MCCLAIN: No, ma’am. I’m trying to live. I don’t care about being naked. I want to live.

SILVERMAN: When the assault is going on and you’re in and out of the car, where in relation to the Village is the vehicle parked? This is the brown station wagon hatchback.

MCCLAIN: It’s on a little service road from highway 90. I think highway 90 only had two lanes—two or four lanes. I’m not really sure, but—it was two lanes on each side. That’s what it was, two lanes on each side. And it was the shipyard traffic coming. And I knew if I could make it across that shipyard traffic, I was going to be at home. So I just ran in front of all the traffic, because it was time for them to get off.

SILVERMAN: And you then ran across the lanes of traffic?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: You didn’t get hit by anybody?

MCCLAIN: No, ma’am. Cars were swerving everywhere, but I did not get hit.

SILVERMAN: And where did you run to?

MCCLAIN: I ran back to the Village, which would have been across the street. I had to run through some bushes and brush and a little wooded area, but it landed me right back on the Front. I fell down because I ran into a guy that was urinating; he almost peed on me.

SILVERMAN: A man that was urinating on the sidewalk?

MCCLAIN: He was urinating between where the clubs was and the woods was. Because they had been in—to be honest, they was gambling or drinking, whatever they doing in there, and he had to use it so he came outside to use it. I thank God he came outside to use it. I said, “That man trying to kill me.”

SILVERMAN: What happened at that point?

MCCLAIN: They said, “Who?” I said, “I don’t know his name. That man in that station wagon.” Then everybody start coming out, club-by-club-by-club. And they say, “Take her to the hospital. Take her to the hospital.”

SILVERMAN: After these people came out of the clubs, did someone actually take you to the hospital?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: And were you treated at the hospital?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: And can you describe for us what kind of injuries you had as a result of this?

MCCLAIN: I had migraine headaches at that time. And then my eyes, they closed, with blood coming out of them like tears. The white part of my eyes was red. And this went on for approximately two weeks. I couldn’t eat. I was—

SILVERMAN: Why couldn’t you eat?

MCCLAIN: I couldn’t hardly swallow.

SILVERMAN: Did you also have any problems in terms of your vision?

MCCLAIN: Yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: When the defendant was hitting you in the head, did you ever lose consciousness?

MCCLAIN: No, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: Did you see, what some people call it, stars?

MCCLAIN: I seen stars and clovers.

SILVERMAN: Did you tell anybody in the hospital what had happened to you?

MCCLAIN: No, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: Well, let me ask you this question: did anybody ask you?

MCCLAIN: No, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: Nobody asked you what happened?

MCCLAIN: Hmm. No, ma’am. I don’t believe nobody really asked me nothing about that.

SILVERMAN: So, you had headaches, migraines. You had problems with your vision. You had red where the white part of your eyes should be. How long were you there?

MCCLAIN: In the hospital?

SILVERMAN: Yes.

MCCLAIN: That night, and released early that morning up in the day.

SILVERMAN: So, the next morning?

MCCLAIN: If I’m thinking right, yes, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: Did any police come to the hospital to interview you?

MCCLAIN: No, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: Did you ever go to the police after you were released from the hospital and report this?

MCCLAIN: No, ma’am.

SILVERMAN: Can you tell us, explain to us, why not.

MCCLAIN: I’m Black. I live in a Black neighborhood that one side of the street is nothing but clubs, the other side is projects. They don’t know my condition of why I’m out there, but I’m out there trying to take care of my family. They—I can’t go downtown and tell them that I’ve been a prostitute to feed my children. They don’t care nothing about no Black prostitute in Pascagoula. No, ma’am.