Former Los Angeles City Councilman Nate “Nate” Holden always talks with a sense of self-assurance and a firm belief in his own destiny.
It was the belief that a black man born in Macon, Georgia, rose to the highest position in political power in Los Angeles in 1929 – representing the area as a state senator who later served on the city council for 16 years.
Holden is a towering figure on the Los Angeles political stage at the age of 95.
“Nate Holden is a Los Angeles legend,” Hahn said in a statement. “He is the lion of the state Senate and a unit of the Los Angeles City Council. I sit next to him next to Chambers with a lot of new members.”
Before starting his political career, Holden served as Hahn's father, an assistant to former Los Angeles County Supervisor Kenneth Hahn, who relied on Holden to acquire a “unique smart brand.” Young Hahn said she called him Uncle Nate and was considered part of Holden.
Holden said he said he heard the state’s governor continue his mission to suppress black people in a radio oath, he was deprived of the most basic human rights and was often targeted by angry white mobs.
He recalls his childhood contempt for racism, which was fully demonstrated in the Deep South. On days when only white people are allowed to use them, he would throw rocks into the local public swimming pool, and once a white couple was told he intended to become the backyard of the U.S. president.
His father was a manufacturer of the Central Georgia Railroad Company, and when his parents separated when they were 10, Nate moved to Elizabeth, New Jersey, where his grandmother lived.
He is a 16-year-old new boxer who eliminated experienced competitors and local champions in his New Jersey gymnasium. In 1946, he lied about his age and joined the U.S. Army. He was deployed to Germany after World War II, where he served as a military policeman.
When Holden returned to the United States, he decided to become a cartographer. But, he said, one of his teachers deliberately gave him a bad grade to stop him, telling him that such a job is black.
When he applied for a training program for veterans, he was denied again and told him to waste time, which would never lead to work.
“I serve God and the countryside and I will be in that training program,” Holden said. “If I don’t understand, I will go to Washington to knock on that president’s door.”
Finally, when he finished high school in the evening, he was finally admitted and studied design and engineering. He ended up working for several aerospace companies, which led him to travel to California.
Holden became a member of the California Democtal Council, and Holden made his first foray into politics, a left-leaning reform organization. As an opponent of the Vietnam War, he lost his Congress bid after his campaign, but also built the president of the democratic reform group.
After being elected to the California Senate in 1974, he helped write the state's Housing Financial Discrimination Act, which prohibits financial institutions from discriminating on the basis of race, religion, gender, or marital status. He also advocated legislation that requires California public schools to commemorate the birthday of Martin Luther King Jr.
Holden left the state Senate after one term and ran for Congress again, losing again. In 1971, he became assistant deputy deputy deputy to Los Angeles County Supervisor Kenneth Hahn, a popular white politician in the black area.
By 1987, when Holden set his sights on the Los Angeles City Council, he had lost six of seven political movements in two decades.
“I don't think I've never lost the game. Maybe I'm not elected, but I've not lost the game. Every time I play, I think the community benefits.”
Holden enjoys political struggles, usually at the expense of colleagues.
He told the Times in 1987: “There is nothing wrong with competition. It's like boxing. If you stand up on that ring and you're there yourself, it's Shadowboxing. It's always good to play. There's nothing wrong with that.
During Holden's nearly two decades of tenure on the Los Angeles City Council, he was known for his lone wolf, sometimes difficult–abrasive, fighting spirit and a grand position in political engagement. He often voted on the rest of the Council by an uneven vote and publicly called his colleagues “stupid”, “fake” and “lazy.”
Then-President Joan Milke Flores told The Times in 1989 that she had seen Holden vote against each of his people by city council and then approached everyone on his list to remind them that he would not forget to vote.
“I didn't go to any nursery,” Holden said. “I asked the bureaucrats hard questions. Hey, politics is a tough thing.”
When Time columnist Patt Morrison was forced to leave the council by term limits in 2003, Los Angeles would lose “16-year franchise about outrageous, showcased and chutzpah”.
However, among the voters, Holden was enthusiastically accepted, an opponent of political institutions and a supporter of his community.
Holden represented the main Black District 10 and became a spokesperson for the poor and middle class in South Central and Southwest Los Angeles, in the late 1980s, the community fought against drug and gang violence. He worked to fight for increased funding for police patrols to reduce crime and build a more trusting relationship between officials and residents.
He kept making to-do lists – pothole repairs, tree trimmings, broken street lights – and the pepper city department with letters and phones to make the job roll. When things didn't happen quickly enough, he became a legend for city employees.
“They used to call me a stop sign Holden because I made my area safe for pedestrians,” Holden said. “When something had to be done.”
He also pushed for more parks, libraries and leisure centers in his area and invested so much in the community that when Midtown built the Performing Arts Center in 2003, it was named after Holden's honor.
At the time member Joy Picus told Times in 1993 that “Nate worked harder with voters in Los Angeles and other residents in Los Angeles. He had smart street people and was very populist.”
Holden has been looking for a fight, in 1989 with the pass to the respected incumbent Tom Bradley, who previously represented the 10th District as a council member.
Holden launched a then-gun buyback program during the campaign, offering $300 from his own campaign war box and $300 to anyone willing to surrender assault rifles.
Holden lost, but his fierce campaign combined with low voter turnout made Bradley profitable.
“He was a fighter,” said Herb Wesson, who served as Chief of Staff for Holden in his first semester. “If I’ve ever been to a bar fight, I definitely want Nate Holden to be on the bar stool next to me.”
Holden's long term on the city council was cemented by part of his Korean-American voter proposal. Although Koreatown residents do not have a large voting group, they do have the right to raise funds, donating a quarter of campaign donations that Holden received from 1991 to 1994.
In return, Holden helped South Korean business owners get alcohol licenses in Los Angeles, making the area a hot spot in the city’s nightlife after staggering during the economic downturn in the early 1990s.
“That's Nate Holden's legacy in the Korean town,” Charles Kim, executive director of the Korean American League, told the Times in 2002.
A later investigation report showed that many business owners who obtained alcohol licenses donated to Holden's campaign. Some people have repeated in Holden's efforts since the 1992 uprising that Holden's efforts restricted alcohol licensing in South Los Angeles.
Beyond politics, Holden's tenacity is also evident in other aspects, such as the Ramarathon, who ran 61 at the age of 61. When he ran for a rally seat after his council career, he marched through the streets of the area and stopped each block once.
“I used to run in the snow in New Jersey every morning. It was cold. Every morning before school, I ran.” “When I came to California, I ran every morning – 5 a.m.,” Holden said.
Holden's long career was not without flaws. In the 1990s, Holden was faced with three separate charges of sexual harassment from his former assistant. These women accused him of being touching, offensive comments and creating a hostile work environment.
Holden fought back aggressively, winning one case in court and resolving another. The third claim was revoked. But his legal defense lost about $1.3 million to the city.
He has also been repeatedly fined for violating campaign finance laws, violating more than 70 violations and a $30,000 fine. Holden acknowledged some of these violations, but claimed the city’s Ethics Commission had higher standards than colleagues.
Holden retired in 2003 but remains active in the community. At 92, he was still on the board of directors of the South Coast Air Quality Management District, an agency that oversees air quality in Los Angeles and much of the Inland Empire.
Thinking about his legacy, Holden said he wanted to be remembered as “a good person.”
Holden said: “Do your best.
Holden is survived by former Los Angeles County Sheriff's deputy Reginald Holden, a former former member of the California Legislature and former mayor of Pasadena, as well as several grandchildren, Chris Holden, and several grandchildren. His wife, Fannie Louise Holden, died in 2013 from complications of Alzheimer's disease.
Times worker Clara Harter contributed to the report.
