Badges and bombs: How the 1938 Harry Raymond attack still informs police reform, legal ethics

On the morning of Jan. 14, 1938, former LAPD detective Harry Raymond slid behind the wheel of his car in the garage of his Boyle Heights home, turned the ignition key and unleashed hell. A powerful dynamite bomb wired to the starter exploded with devastating force. The engine was blown through the hood. More than 150 pieces of shrapnel tore into Raymond's body. He survived--barely--but the message was unmistakable: the Los Angeles Police Department's own Intelligence Unit had tried to assassinate one of its own for daring to investigate City Hall and the department itself.
This was not the work of underworld triggermen. The bombers wore badges. They operated under orders from within the LAPD command structure, protecting a corrupt political machine that had turned Los Angeles into a protected playground for vice and graft. The Harry Raymond car bombing remains one of the darkest chapters in the city's legal history--and a cautionary tale whose lessons about police power, retaliation and accountability remain painfully relevant nearly nine decades later.
The Raymond case exposed a systemic collapse of legal ethics at the highest levels of municipal government and law enforcement. Under Mayor Frank L. Shaw and LAPD Chief James E. "Two-Gun" Davis, the line between public service and organized protection rackets had virtually disappeared.

From insider to target: Harry Raymond's dangerous mission

Raymond was no idealistic outsider. Born in 1881, he was a seasoned LAPD detective who had risen through the ranks with a reputation for toughness. In 1933, he briefly served as Chief of Police in San Diego, lasting only about 90 days after aggressively pursuing vice operations and resisting political pressure. Back in Los Angeles, he worked as a private investigator.
In 1936, Raymond was hired by Clifford E. Clinton, the progressive owner of Clifton's Cafeteria and founder of the Citizens Independent Vice Investigating Committee (CIVIC). His mission: document ties between organized crime, the LAPD and the Shaw administration. What he uncovered--alleged protection payoffs for gambling, prostitution and bootlegging--made him a marked man. The LAPD's secretive Intelligence Unit (the "Spy Squad") placed Raymond and Clinton under continuous surveillance.

The bombing and LAPD's internal conflict

On Jan. 14, 1938, at approximately 10:00 a.m., Raymond started his car at 955 Orme Street. The expertly wired dynamite bomb detonated. He sustained over 150 shrapnel wounds, a punctured chest and broken bones. Doctors initially gave him little chance of survival.
The attack exposed deep conflicts within the LAPD itself. The Intelligence Unit, operating with little oversight and direct loyalty to Chief Davis and the mayor's political machine, had become an instrument of retaliation rather than law enforcement. Officers tasked with protecting the public were instead deployed to intimidate reformers and silence investigations into departmental corruption. This internal rot--where one faction of the department weaponized its power against perceived enemies--represented a profound betrayal of public trust and legal ethics.

Badges on trial

The case proceeded to trial in the spring of 1938. Captain Earl E. Kynette, head of the Intelligence Unit, along with Lieutenant Roy Allen and Sergeant Fred Browne, stood accused. The proceedings had a distinctly noir atmosphere. Kynette invoked the Fifth Amendment and, in a dramatic gesture, reportedly read portions of the U.S. Constitution in open court. Chief Davis's testimony was so unpersuasive that Judge Fletcher Bowron dismissed parts of it as "a debris of words."

The prosecution relied on forensic evidence linking the bomb to LAPD sources and extensive documentation of the surveillance operation. Raymond testified despite his injuries. On June 16, 1938, the jury convicted Kynette of attempted murder, assault with intent to commit murder and malicious use of explosives. Allen was also convicted. The California Supreme Court later upheld the convictions in People v. Kynette, 15 Cal.2d 731 (1940).
Kynette received a sentence of two years to life. The outcome represented a rare victory of accountability over official impunity.

Political earthquake: The recall of Mayor Frank Shaw

The trial's revelations fueled public outrage. On Sept. 16, 1938, Los Angeles voters took historic action: Mayor Frank L. Shaw became the first mayor of a major American city to be successfully recalled. Judge Fletcher Bowron, who had presided over key aspects of the case, was elected as his replacement on a reform platform. Chief Davis resigned shortly afterward.

Modern echoes: Lessons for legal ethics and police reform

The Raymond case offers more than historical drama. It provides a foundational reference point for contemporary debates on legal ethics and police accountability.

First, it illustrates the persistent danger of retaliation against whistleblowers and investigators. While physical bombs are rare today, subtler forms of intimidation--career retaliation, strategic litigation and targeted leaks -- continue. California's whistleblower protections exist precisely because of historical abuses like this one. Recent controversies involving LAPD whistleblowers and surveillance of protest movements demonstrate that these tensions have not been fully resolved.

Second, the rogue Intelligence Unit foreshadows later failures, most notably the Rampart scandal that led to a federal consent decree. Modern parallels include concerns over surveillance technologies, fusion centers and the monitoring of journalists and activists. Legal ethics demand that specialized units serve legitimate purposes, not political ones.

Third, the case highlights the critical importance of institutional independence within law enforcement. When loyalty to leadership or political patrons overrides the oath to uphold the law, the entire system is compromised.

Finally, the successful 1938 recall demonstrates both the power and the limits of public accountability. Today's mechanisms--the LAPD Police Commission, civilian oversight, body cameras and inspector general reviews--are more sophisticated, yet cycles of scandal and reform persist. The core question remains: Has Los Angeles built safeguards strong enough to prevent the next Harry Raymond?

Raymond's story is more than classic Los Angeles noir. It serves as a foundational case study in the fragility of institutional integrity. When law enforcement weaponizes its power against those who seek to hold it accountable, public trust collapses. Nearly 90 years later, the central question for Los Angeles remains unanswered: Have we built systems strong enough to ensure that the next Harry Raymond is protected rather than targeted?

The views expressed here are the author's and not those of the California Military Department or the Los Angeles County District Attorney's Office.