Wednesday evening, Aug. 11, 1965 was the evening that would change Los Angeles. Fifty years almost to the day of the incident that sparked LA's Watts riots - when 21-year-old Marquette Frye, an African American man driving his mother's 1955 Buick, was pulled over by a white California Highway Patrol motorcycle officer, Lee Minikus, and cited for reckless driving - Norman Edelen, a former officer with the Los Angeles Police Department, recalled the series of events that led up to the rebellion, the city's worst unrest until the 1992 Rodney King riots. Spanning six days, the Watts rebellion left 34 dead. Edelen, one of no more than 60 black LAPD officers, resided just around the corner from Frye's mother, Rena Price, in the nearby Watts area. Though blamed mostly on unemployment, investigation into the riots also highlighted instances of police racism. Edelen, who later authored a three-part novel series about the riots, has looked with a critical eye at the tense relationship between the LAPD and the community at that time. "My emphasis," said Edelen, "is on what happened before Aug. 11, 1965? It's pretty clear what happened afterward.” Edelen was assigned to LA's Central District before being transferred to the 77th Street Division, which included the Watts neighborhood. As a black officer, Edelen experienced his fair share of racism. Having worked the Central, Wilshire, Highland Park and University divisions, Edelen said 77th was the worst. District segregation forbade black and white cops from being partnered together, Edelen said. He spent two years working the desk before he was sent to patrol. On his first day reporting to 77th district headquarters, Edelen found himself in a hammer-lock by another officer. "There was an officer by the door, smoking a cigarette. He blocked my entrance and asked, 'Who are you?' I told him I was from Wilshire and he let me in," said Edelen. "I went to the bulletin board to see my orders and the next thing I know, I'm slammed into the wall. An officer said, 'How many times do I have to tell you people not to come in this station?' The cop who was at the door smoking when I came in said, 'He's from Wilshire,' and I was let go. But that just sets off the attitude between the police and the community, and even between the police and the police. 77th was hard for a black guy." Racial tensions rose, explained Edelen, who requested a transfer to Highland Park. The difference between the divisions "was like shangri la," said Edelen. "That proved two points: the first, was that racial tensions were terrible. But at Highland Park it wasn't. I don't want to take a broad brush to the LAPD and say it was racist, but there was racism in it." At Highland Park, Edelen partnered with Michael Hannon, a white LAPD officer who, off duty and out of uniform, participated in Civil Rights acts. He was shunned by other officers for doing so and was undergoing a Board of Rights hearing, charged with 10 counts of conduct unbecoming an officer. Hannon accused the LAPD of being racist. "Mike asked me if I would testify at his hearing, not if I would testify for him," said Edelen, who agreed to do so. "His thinking was, 'you've been at 77th, you know how it is.' And I, maybe being a little arrogant, said, 'Yeah, and I'll get some of the other guys, too.' Because the black guys, we talked about (the racism) all the time." It didn't happen. Edelen was the only black man to testify for Hannon, while 33 white officers testified against him. The three-man Board requested to hear any question posed to Edelen before he answered. "They wanted to determine if they wanted to hear my answer. Every questiion, the prosecution said, 'I object. This is not the time or the place.' It was like a broken record and the Board sustained them all. I wasn't allowed to say anything and the defense gave up." Hannon was found guilty on nine counts and the Board urged his dismissal. Instead, he was suspended for six months. Following the three-week trial, Edelen was effectively shunned by the white officers in his division. He was later transferred to the Chief's desk and left the force after serving for seven years. "After I left the department, promotions did happen," said Edelen. Prior to that, there were only three black officers who'd ever been promoted to a position higher than lieutenant. "And other (black) officers had so much guilt about not testifying for Mike. That was the irony. The black cops were conflicted because they wouldn't have gotten promotions without the riots. But everyone has their reasons. Marquette Frye and Rodney King are sort of freers of black cops. Change came with pain. It wasn't easy. Thirty-four people were klled before these officers got promoted and they were people they were paid to protect. You ask what goes on in a whistleblower's mind and heart? They say, I have a family to care for, a mortgage to pay. These are legitimate concerns. That line you're straddling between right and wrong, it gets real blurry." Edelen continued to explore these issues, writing a three-part series with his novels "After a While You Wonder," "Tuesday After Next" and "It Don't Matter: Amore Regge Senza Legge." "I think police and community relations have changed for the better. It's a slow process. Look how long it takes," said Edelen, citing recent demonstrations in Ferguson, Mo., Baltimore and New York. "What kicked the change in LA? The riots. Why does society have to wait until something like that happens? If you live long enough, you see it happen again."

50 Years Later Former LAPD Officer Norman Edelen Reflects on LAs Watts Riots