On another busy day at Skid Row People's Market in downtown Los Angeles, workers stocked shelves as shoppers bought sandwiches, fresh produce and fruit.
The store at 5th and San Pedro streets, on the corner of a wellness center and across from a women's shelter, is a vital asset for this impoverished, black and Latino neighborhood.
Danny Park, 39, who took over the business from his Korean immigrant parents in 2015, embodied social justice by providing healthy, affordable food, providing in-store credit to cash-strapped customers and helping the homeless population , the largest anywhere. from the city.
“I know it's a corner market, but we try to help in every way we can,” he said.
Employee Mark Burton, right, and owner May Park help customers at Skid Row People's Market.
(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)
But operating the store has taken a toll on Park's health, and now he wants to sell it, not to the highest bidder, but to Creating Justice LA, a Black-led nonprofit serving Skid Row.
“We wanted this to be a generational thing where the store can continue to be a benefit to the community,” he said.
Pastor Stephen Cue Jn-Marie, founder of Creating Justice LA, said the goal is to expand the services created by the park, with input from Skid Row residents.
“We are not going to leave people without jobs,” Jn-Marie said. “Whatever benefits the community, that's what we're going to do.”
Park and Jn-Marie said it could take up to three months before the ownership change is official.
The importance of selling a Korean-American-owned store to a Black-led nonprofit is not lost on Park and Jn-Marie. They say it's another step toward healing the conflicts between Koreans and blacks of the early 1990s.
At the time, many liquor stores in South Los Angeles were owned by Korean immigrants, who had often acquired them from Jewish store owners who left South Los Angeles as it underwent enormous social and economic changes: the loss of manufacturing jobs, a crack epidemic, gang violence, police brutality.
Cultural misunderstandings created friction, and some black customers believed that Korean merchants were exploiting them and stealing business opportunities.
Tensions escalated on March 16, 1991, when 15-year-old Latasha Harlins walked into the Empire Liquor Market Deli in South Los Angeles and placed a $1.79 bottle of orange juice in her purse. Latasha, who had $2 in her hand, intended to pay at the register, but Soon Ja Du, the store owner, accused the teen of trying to steal the juice. After a fight, Du shot and killed Latasha, who was walking away.
Police later confirmed that Latasha had not been stealing. Du was convicted of voluntary manslaughter, but received probation instead of prison.
Korean owners were hit hard during the 1992 riots, losing more than 2,000 stores and suffering more than $400 million in losses, according to a 2002 UC Riverside study. Some occupied rooftops with guns, ready to defend their businesses.
In 1995, May and Bob Park took over the lease of the Best Market on Skid Row.
May Park, 68, said there were rarely problems at the store and attributed it to the respect it showed customers.
When Bob Park died in 2018, Danny Park was already running the store. He changed its name to Skid Row All People's Market, hoping it would empower residents and serve as a healing space.
Today, that mission is visible throughout the store. A hand-painted message in English and Korean reads: “A safe space for the Skid Row community to heal and develop healthy identities.” “Food is medicine not only for the body, but also for the spiritual connection to history, ancestors and the land,” another message below reads.
On the back, “Equity” is written in silver balloons taped over the beverage coolers.
Near the entrance, a framed photograph of Latasha Harlins is part of a community altar. Brochures and flyers about public services are posted on a bulletin board near the cash register, beneath various drawings and paintings made by customers.
The store is one of the few in the area that offers fresh fruits and vegetables, and also sells a little bit of everything, from portable stoves to underwear and tampons. EBT cardholders get a 50% discount.
Park, who serves on the board of directors of Creating Justice in Los Angeles, said he started thinking about selling the store last year. He was struggling mentally and worried about his health after a close friend suffered a stroke. He said his father and his uncles had died from similar causes.
“I think I personally was in denial for a long time, but I've been fighting a lot,” he said. “I thought if I let the market go or sold it, I would be letting the community down. But if I didn’t do that, I would basically start getting sick.”
Park approached Jn-Marie, his mentor and older brother.
Danny Park decided to sell his family's Skid Row People's Market to Creating Justice LA to keep ownership in the community, address food insecurity, and maintain and provide community jobs.
(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)
“He was tired. He was trying to do right in the community and serve the community,” Jn-Marie said. “I imagine having to see the difficulties of living on the streets and hearing everyone's pain and what they are going through. “It takes its toll on you.”
Jn-Marie said she thought about purchasing the store, but realized it would be a good addition to the nonprofit, which already had some experience running a co-op smoothie shop and resource center.
One Wednesday afternoon, Don Johnson, 40, went in to buy some vegetables.
While lifting a bag of vegetables from a straw basket, it broke underneath.
Mark Burton, 37, who was stocking shelves with cans of fish fillets, rushed to help.
“Let me get you a bag,” Burton said.
“Good care, man,” Johnson responded.
Johnson has been shopping at the store for eight years. He said he was saddened to learn it would be sold and that he would miss the owners.
“I love shopping here,” she said.
Burton said he hopes to continue working at the store. He said he knows almost everyone who comes in.
“I just hope that the store stays the same or at least that we maintain our values,” he said.
Nearby, Solomon Hailenicael, 75, approached the register to pay for the snacks.
“Where is May?” she said hoarsely.
“Here, here,” May Park responded.
“I was wondering where you were. I've missed you.”
This is the only place where Hailenicael buys food.
“They take care of me here,” he said. “I can shop in peace.”
Hailenicael said she is heartbroken but will keep coming back. She took her bag and said goodbye to May Park.
