When Jesse Marquez walked into the Los Angeles harbor commission hearing room in 2013, he didn\u2019t bring a consultant or a slideshow. He brought death certificates.<\/p>\n
Each sheet of paper, he told the commissioners, bore the name of a Wilmington resident killed by respiratory illness. Wedged between two of the country\u2019s busiest ports, the neighborhood is dotted with oil refineries, chemical plants, railyards and freeways. It\u2019s one of several portside communities known by some as a \u201cdiesel death zone,\u201d where residents are more likely<\/a> to die from cancer than just about anywhere else in the L.A. Basin. For decades, Marquez refused to let anyone forget it.<\/p>\n He knocked on doors, installed air monitors, counted oil wells, built coalitions, staged demonstrations, fought legal battles and affected policy.<\/a> He dove deep into impenetrable environmental impact documents.<\/p>\n \u201cBefore Jesse, there was no playbook.\u201d Earthjustice attorney Adrian Martinez said in an interview. \u201cWhat was remarkable from the beginning is that Jesse wasn\u2019t afraid to write stuff down, to demand things, to spend lots of time scouring for evidence.\u201d<\/p>\n Marquez, founder of the Coalition for a Safe Environment, or CFASE, died surrounded by family in his Orange County home Nov. 3. His death was due to complications after he was struck by a vehicle while in a crosswalk in January. He was 74.<\/p>\n \u201cHe was one of a kind,\u201d Martinez said. \u201cHe had a fierce independence and really believed in speaking up for himself and his community. He played an instrumental role in centering Wilmington in the fight for environmental justice.\u201d<\/p>\n In 2001, when the port planned to ramp up operations and expand a major terminal operated by Trapac Inc. further north into Wilmington, Marquez and neighborhood organizers pushed back, winning a $200-million green-space buffer between residences and port operations.<\/p>\n When oil refineries evaded pollution caps through what organizers called a \u201cgaping loophole\u201d in Environmental Protection Agency policy, Marquez and others sued,<\/a> overturning the policy and successfully curtailing pollution spikes at California plants.<\/p>\n And when cargo ships idled at California ports burning diesel fuel, Marquez and his allies pressed the state to adopt the nation\u2019s first rule requiring vessels to turn off their engines and plug into the electric grid while docked.<\/p>\n Born Oct. 22, 1951, Marquez was raised in Wilmington, and lived most of his life there. As a child, he had a view of Fletcher Oil Co.\u2019s towering smokestacks from his frontyard.<\/p>\n Years later, black pearls of petroleum rained down on Wilmington the day the oil refinery exploded.<\/p>\n Then 17, Marquez hit the floor when he heard the blast. Frantic, he helped his parents hoist his six younger siblings over a backyard fence as fireballs of ignited crude descended around their home, just across the street. His grandmother was the last over, suffering third-degree burns along the entire left side of her body.<\/p>\n \u201cFrom that moment on, he\u2019s always had Wilmington in his mind,\u201d his 44-year-old son, Alex Marquez, said in an interview.<\/p>\n The memory shaped the battles he fought decades later. In college at UCLA, he crossed paths with young members of the Brown Berets, Movimiento Estudiantil Chicanx de Aztl\u00e1n, and the Black Panther Party, later volunteering in demonstrations led by Cesar Chavez and Dolores Huerta.<\/p>\n \u201cHe started off within that movement,\u201d Alex Marquez said. \u201cIt was his reason to bring a lot of different communities into his work.\u201d<\/p>\n After a career in aerospace, he began organizing in earnest in the 1990s, aligning with groups such as the Natural Resources Defense Council and Coalition for Clean Air to oppose port expansion projects.<\/p>\n When his sons were old enough, he brought them along to photograph and count oil wells, later folding them into his other projects.<\/p>\n He described his father as a man of contrasts.<\/p>\n \u201cWhen it was time to work, he was the most serious, stern, no patience,\u201d Alex Marquez said. \u201cBut the minute the job was done, he completely transformed. He was your best friend who brought a roast turkey and a six-pack of beers. He partied and relaxed better than anyone I\u2019ve ever met.\u201d<\/p>\n Marquez\u2019s home was always filled with dogs \u2014 he jokingly called his lawyers his \u201clegal beagles,\u201d Martinez recalled. He loved reggae music, dancing and was an amateur archaeologist. He kept a collection of colonial maps tracing the migration of the Aztec people, part of what his son called \u201chis love for Native American and Aztec culture.\u201d<\/p>\n He founded CFASE with a group of Wilmington residents. After learning about the port\u2019s expansion plans, he hosted an ad hoc meeting at his home. There, residents shared their experiences with industrial pollution in Wilmington.<\/p>\n They talked about the refinery explosions in 1969,<\/a> 1984,<\/a> 1986,<\/a> 1991,<\/a> 1992,<\/a> 1995,<\/a> 1996<\/a> and 2001.<\/a><\/p>\n