Comments
SAFETY & SECURITY - When I walked into my home just after 6 p.m. on a November evening in 2023, I was met with a sight I’ll never forget: shattered glass blanketing the kitchen floor, my rear patio door blown open as if a bomb had gone off. I spun around to my wife and kids and told them the unthinkable—we had been burglarized. My hands shook as I dialed 911, clinging to the hope that help would arrive quickly. Two minutes passed. Then four. Ten. The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. It wasn’t until the 29th minute that a human voice finally answered. Later, we learned that the burglars were still inside as we pulled into the driveway, fleeing only as we approached.
The police didn’t arrive until nearly two hours after the call connected. I don’t blame the officers; they showed up, were very professional, apologetic, yet powerless. They had seen this same heartbreaking scene too many times in the span of just a week. The real issue wasn’t the LAPD; it was that they are outnumbered, outpaced, and under-resourced.
As my family and I waited for the police to arrive, we began tallying the wreckage of what had been our safe haven. The back door hung mangled and useless, our beloved dog had been pepper-sprayed multiple times, our security cameras ripped out, and our bedroom and office tossed like garbage. Thankfully, I’ve advised enough clients to never store their most valuable possessions at home. Still, the loss cut deep; items of sentimental value, family mementos, and irreplaceable reminders of our lives were gone forever. But what hit hardest wasn’t the missing belongings. It was the feeling that the walls of our home—the place we trusted to protect us—were nothing more than paper-thin. Being burglarized is more than a financial loss. It’s a wound to your sense of safety, a scar that lingers long after the glass is swept up. You suddenly see the fragility of the locks, the illusion of security, and you carry the weight of that violation with you for a long, long time.
Now, I know the numbers. Homicides are down nearly 28% in Los Angeles this year. Shooting victims have dropped by 9%. And across the board, violent crimes and property crimes alike are declining. These statistics, reported by LAPD leadership, are encouraging. They show progress, and they matter. But let’s be honest: numbers don’t tuck your kids in at night. Numbers don’t clean shattered glass from your kitchen floor. Numbers don’t give you back your peace of mind when you lie awake, wondering if someone might come back. Safety is not measured in percentages. It is measured in the ability of families to walk to the park without fear, of seniors to shop for groceries without worry, or small businesses to close at night knowing they won’t return to destruction in the morning.
I was born and raised in Canoga Park, educated in our public schools, and graduated from El Camino Real High School, Pierce College, and Cal State Northridge. My life has been shaped by this community, and it is here that I chose to raise my family. In 2008, I founded Gaspar Insurance with a simple mission: protect what matters most. Over the years, I’ve sat across the table from families who had lost their homes to fire and small business owners whose livelihoods were jeopardized overnight. I learned that resilience is not built on empty promises; it is built on preparation, trust, and a commitment to act when people are most vulnerable.
The same applies to public safety. Yes, crime rates are declining, but the measure of success isn’t a chart—it’s whether people feel safe on their block, in their homes, and on their commutes. And right now, too many Angelenos still don’t.
The latest crime statistics are encouraging, in part because LAPD officers are doing a remarkable job under enormous strain. Aggravated assaults and robberies are down 8%. Burglaries and car thefts are down 12%. By almost any measure, Los Angeles is safer today than it was a year ago. But averages don’t tell the whole story. Try telling the mother who hesitates before letting her child walk to school that things are “better.” Try telling the shopkeeper who has been robbed three times this year that “crime is down.” Until every family feels that safety in their bones, the work isn’t finished.
Every Angeleno, regardless of ZIP code, income, or background, deserves to feel safe. Public safety is not a luxury—it is the foundation of a thriving city. Yet in the West Valley, we too often feel forgotten when it comes to resources. Our officers are stretched thin, emergency response times are painfully long, and much of their equipment is outdated and belongs in a museum. If crime is declining citywide, then now is the time to double down and ensure every neighborhood shares in that progress—not just some.
Here’s what that means in practice:
- Hire and retain a fully staffed, well-trained force of police officers and firefighters. Recruitment and retention must be priorities. We cannot let budget gaps or politics weaken the frontline of safety.
- Modernize outdated equipment and vehicles. Officers should not be asked to patrol with tools from another era. Investing in modern technology keeps both the public and first responders safer.
- Embrace innovative technology. Tools that streamline paperwork, improve communication, and shorten response times enable more officers to return to the field, where they are needed most. The use of drones and other high-tech equipment can serve as force multipliers for our officers.
But public safety is not only about officers on the streets—it’s also about neighbors looking out for one another. After our burglary, our family helped launch a neighborhood watch, and we quickly discovered that many of our neighbors had been waiting for something like it but didn’t know how to start. In just a few months, we got to know dozens of families we hadn’t known before, building trust and connections that strengthen not just crime prevention but also resilience in the face of an earthquake, a fire, or any disaster. We’re even planning our first neighborhood block party—a reminder that community and safety go hand in hand. The city can make this easier by offering toolkits and guidance to help residents organize their own neighborhood watches. The reality is simple: city resources are stretched thinner than ever, and it’s up to us to look out for one another.
As someone who has dedicated his career to helping families and businesses recover from hardship, I know prevention and preparation matter just as much as response. Public safety requires community investment: strong after-school programs, partnerships with nonprofits, mentorship opportunities, and civic engagement. I’ve seen firsthand through my service with organizations like the Discovery Cube Los Angeles, the YMCA, and the Woodland Hills/Warner Center Chamber of Commerce that when we invest in people, we strengthen the social fabric that keeps communities safe. Crime reduction is not only a policing challenge—it is a community responsibility.
My wife Christina and I are raising our children, JJ and Ry, in Woodland Hills. Like every parent, I want them to grow up in a city where they can play in the park without fear, where walking to school is routine and not risky, and where neighbors look out for one another.
Los Angeles has made progress, but we cannot afford to be complacent. A nearly 28% drop in homicides is worth celebrating—but one life lost to violence is still one too many. Lower crime rates are encouraging—but fear will persist until every family feels the difference on their street.
We must be honest about both the successes and the challenges. We must commit to fully resourcing public safety, investing in our communities, and standing with the officers who protect us while demanding accountability and transparency.
The numbers tell us crime is down. Our responsibility is to make sure safety is felt in every living room, on every block, in every neighborhood. Because until that happens, the job isn’t finished.
(Tim Gaspar is a Businessman and Candidate for L.A. City Council - West Valley)
