Usc Quotes

Back in business grad school at USC when I was a student, I took the Briggs Meyers test. I took the test again at my first job. Both time it tested the same: That I have the personality of a CEO and an Inventor. Guess it was pretty accurate. - Kailin Gow on Briggs Meyers Tests

Neil didn't care how many hearts they broke that night. They'd beaten USC. When the Trojans lost to the Ravens next week they'd be eliminated from championships. The Foxes were going to finals, and that was the only thing that mattered. -

...empathy is the most important power there is. Without it, we are doomed. With it, we can truly change the world. (interview from USC)

With a Masters in Management from USC, I did some consultant work in Reorganization, New Products, and Change. Amazon was smart to have me as a Beta and got my advice for free. Amazon was the only company who did because for other companies, it wasn't. But what I got from Amazon is a good understanding of how they operate, the culture, and the people behind the business - Strong by Kailin Gow

Often I have asked at USC and other places in public, “Has anyone shown that reality is secular? Could you show me the person and where this was done? If it has not been done, isn’t it a little on the questionable side to announce we are a secular university?

It's now so dysfunctional that I sometimes think the only solution is to blow the whole thing up. [Quoting Glenn Melnick, Professor of Health Care Finance at USC]

River looks at me for a beat, dragging his tongue over his lower lip before continuing. “This is how I remember it. I was singing a gig at the USC Campus Bar. During a break I went to grab a beer. I met the most incredible girl whom I don’t think even knew that I sang in the band, but loved music. We seemed to hit it off. We did a couple of shots, drank a few drinks, and talked without any pretense. I asked her to wait for me after the show. She didn’t say anything about having a boyfriend or not sticking around and then when I finished she was gone.

the active measures investigation has resulted in criminal charges against 13 individual Russian nationals and three Russian entities, principally for conspiracy to defraud the United States, in violation of 18 U.S.C. § 371.

In December 1935, Louie graduated from high school; a few weeks later, he rang in 1936 with his thoughts full of Berlin. The Olympic trials track finals would be held in New York in July, and the Olympic committee would base its selection of competitors on a series of qualifying races. Louie had seven months to run himself onto the team. In the meantime, he also had to figure out what to do about the numerous college scholarships being offered to him. Pete had won a scholarship to the University of Southern California, where he had become one of the nation’s top ten college milers. He urged Louie to accept USC’s offer but delay entry until the fall, so he could train full-time. So Louie moved into Pete’s frat house and, with Pete coaching him, trained obsessively. All day, every day, he lived and breathed the 1,500 meters and Berlin.

It was time for me to go that Thursday night. We’d just watched Citizen Kane--a throwback to my Cinema 190 class at USC--and it was late. And though a soft, cozy bed in one of the guest rooms sounded much more appealing than driving all the way home, I’d never really wanted to get into the habit of sleeping over at Marlboro Man’s house. It was the Pretend-I’m-a-Proper-Country-Club-Girl in me, mixed with a healthy dose of fear that Marlboro Man’s mother or grandmother would drop by early in the morning to bring Marlboro Man some warm muffins or some such thing and see my car parked in the driveway. Or even worse, come inside the house, and then I’d have to wrestle with whether or not to volunteer that “I slept in a guest room! I slept in a guest room!”, which only would have made me look more guilty. Who needs that? I’d told myself, and vowed never to put myself in that predicament.

Snyder was a progressive. Unlike Avery Brundage of the AOC and Dean Cromwell of USC, he was far from sympathetic to the Nazi cause. But his first loyalty was to Jesse Owens. He thought that if Owens got the chance to compete, he would win every event he entered. He knew, too, that then Owens would never have to look back. Of course, it is also crucial to remember that Snyder’s opinion was not informed by the gift of foresight. Like the AOC, he did not know, as we now know, that there would be a holocaust, that Hitler and his regime would eventually kill millions, that the Germans would attack Poland, France, and the Soviet Union. If he had known, he would have felt differently about the boycott. But in 1935 it was still possible to assume that European Jewry was not on the precipice of extinction, just as it was possible to believe that Hitler was not quite a madman. Everyone knew that Hitler disliked the Jews, but few imagined that he would attempt to exterminate them. In

Airmen would later speak of sharks arriving almost the moment that their planes struck the water. In 1943, navy lieutenant Art Reading, Louie’s USC track teammate, was knocked unconscious as he ditched his two-man plane. As the plane sank, Reading’s navigator, Everett Almond, pulled Reading out, inflated their Mae Wests, and lashed himself to Reading. As Reading woke, Almond began towing him toward the nearest island, twenty miles away. Sharks soon began circling. One swept in, bit down on Almond’s leg, and dove, dragging both men deep underwater. Then something gave way and the men rose to the surface in a pool of blood. Almond’s leg had apparently been torn off. He gave his Mae West to Reading, then sank away. For the next eighteen hours, Reading floated alone, kicking at the sharks and hacking at them with his binoculars. By the time a search boat found him, his legs were slashed and his jaw broken by the fin of a shark, but thanks to Almond, he was alive. Almond, who had died at twenty-one, was nominated for a posthumous medal for bravery.

On July 13, 2018, a federal grand jury in the District of Columbia returned an indictment charging Russian military intelligence officers from the GRU with conspiring to hack into various U.S. computers used by the Clinton Campaign, DNC, DCCC, and other U.S. persons, in violation of 18 U.S.C. §§ 1030 and 371 (Count One); committing identity theft and conspiring to commit money laundering in furtherance of that hacking conspiracy, in violation of 18 U.S.C. §§ 1028A and 1956(h) (Counts Two through Ten); and a separate conspiracy to hack into the computers of U.S. persons and entities responsible for the administration of the 2016 U.S. election, in violation of 18 U.S.C. §§ 1030 and 371 (Count Eleven). Netyksho Indictment.1277 As of this writing, all 12 defendants remain at large.

The first day we rode our bikes to Chelsey and parked them. It was a terrible feeling. Most of those kids, at least all the older ones, had their own automobiles, many of them new convertibles, and they weren't black or dark blue like most cars, they were bright yellow, green, orange, and red. The guys sat in them outside of the school and the girls gathered around and went for rides. Everybody was nicely dressed, the guys and the girls, they had pullover sweaters, wrist watches and the latest in shoes. They seemed very adult and poised and superior. And there I was in my homemade shirt, my one ragged pair of pants, my rundown shoes, and I was covered with boils. The guys with the cars didn't worry about acne. They were very handsome, they were tall and clean with bright teeth and they didn't wash their hair with hand soap. They seemed to know something I didn't know. I was at the bottom again. Since all the guys had cars Baldy and I were ashamed of our bicycles. We left them home and walked to school and back, two-and-one-half miles each way. We carried brown bag lunches. But mot of the other students didn't even eat in the school cafeteria. They drove to malt shops with the girls, played the juke boxes and laughed. They were on their way to U.S.C.

You’re…you’re what? Where?” I stood up and glimpsed myself in the mirror. I was a vision, having changed into satin pajama pants, a torn USC sweatshirt, and polka-dotted toe socks, and to top it off, my hair was fastened in a haphazard knot on the top of my head with a no. 2 Ticonderoga pencil. Who wouldn’t want me? “I’m outside,” he repeated, throwing in a trademark chuckle just to be extra mean. “Get out here.” “But…but…,” I stalled, hurriedly sliding the pencil out of my hair and running around the room, stripping off my pathetic house clothes and searching in vain for my favorite faded jeans. “But…but…I’m in my pajamas.” Another trademark chuckle. “So?” he asked. “You’d better get out here or I’m comin’ in…” “Okay, okay…,” I replied. “I’ll be right down.” Panting, I settled for my second-favorite jeans and my favorite sweater of all time, a faded light blue turtleneck I’d worn so much, it was almost part of my anatomy. Brushing my teeth in ten seconds flat, I scurried down the stairs and out the front door. Marlboro Man was standing outside his pickup, hands inside his pockets, his back resting against the driver-side door. He grinned, and as I walked toward him, he stood up and walked toward me, too. We met in the middle--in between his vehicle and the front door--and without a moment of hesitation, greeted each other with a long, emotional kiss. There was nothing funny or lighthearted about it. That kiss meant business. Our lips separated for a short moment. “I like your sweater,” he said, looking at the light blue cotton rib as if he’d seen it before. I’d hurriedly thrown it on the night we’d met a few months earlier. “I think I wore this to the J-bar that night…,” I said. “Do you remember?” “Ummm, yeah,” he said, pulling me even closer. “I remember.” Maybe the sweater had magical powers. I’d have to be sure to hold on to it. We kissed again, and I shivered in the cold night air. Wanting to get me out of the cold, he led me to his pickup and opened the door so we could both climb in. The pickup was still warm and toasty, like a campfire was burning in the backseat. I looked at him, giggled like a schoolgirl, and asked, “What have you been doing all this time?” “Oh, I was headed home,” he said, fiddling with my fingers. “But then I just turned around; I couldn’t help it.” His hand found my upper back and pulled me closer. The windows were getting foggy. I felt like I was seventeen. “I’ve got this problem,” he continued, in between kisses. “Yeah?” I asked, playing dumb. My hand rested on his left bicep. My attraction soared to the heavens. He caressed the back of my head, messing up my hair…but I didn’t care; I had other things on my mind. “I’m crazy about you,” he said. By now I was on his lap, right in the front seat of his Diesel Ford F250, making out with him as if I’d just discovered the concept. I had no idea how I’d gotten there--the diesel pickup or his lap. But I was there. And, burying my face in his neck, I quietly repeated his sentiments. “I’m crazy about you, too.

And when your best efforts fail at stopping a specific mailing, you can resort to the U.S. Postal Service’s PS Form 1500: It declares that “Under the Pandering Advertisements Statute, 39 USC 3008, if you are the addressee of an advertisement, and consider the matter (product or service) that it offers for sale to be ‘erotically arousing or sexually provocative,’ you can obtain a Prohibitory Order against the mailer.” Don’t let big words intimidate or stop you; your opinion of “sexually oriented” material is at your sole discretion and will not be questioned. Today this USPS form may be our last recourse against the peskiest junk mail.

At least Kamille made an effort. She couldn’t say the same thing about her big sister, Kass, who was naturally pretty but couldn’t be bothered to do much with her appearance. (Kass’s idea of glam was carrying a purse instead of throwing all her stuff into her USC backpack) or their baby sister Kyle, who cared more about looking shocking than stylish. (Fishnets and skull chokers were so yesterday.)

Kamille knotted her fists, stifling several choice swearwords. She was sick-to-death-tired of constantly hearing what a saint Kass was. It had been going on for years, and seriously, who cared? So Kass had been valedictorian in high school. So she was at the top of her class at USC. So she worked long hours at the restaurant, doing everything from waiting tables to organizing the bills to whipping up gourmet fucking chicken stock like some Rachael Ray clone.

(Some competitions would offer a few hundred dollars as prize money, but it’s not like So So Def Records set up a booth at USC’s job fair seeking “sick lyricists.”)

Bruce Shi, a recent USC graduate with a B.S. in Finance and an impressive 3.9 GPA, is making strides in the finance field. At Holmes Financial Sales, Bruce's data analysis and reporting skills resulted in substantial cost savings of over $200,000. As an intern at Analytic, Inc., he received accolades for his contributions. Bruce's altruistic side shines through his volunteer work, where he helped clients collectively save $25,000. With meticulous attention to detail and a passion for financial analysis, Bruce is poised for a promising career in finance.

The following sections survey some of the many US federal computer crime statutes, including         •  18 USC 1029: Fraud and Related Activity in Connection with Access Devices         •  18 USC 1030: Fraud and Related Activity in Connection with Computers         •  18 USC 2510 et seq.: Wire and Electronic Communications Interception and Interception of Oral Communications         •  18 USC 2701 et seq.: Stored Wire and Electronic Communications and Transactional Records Access         •  The Digital Millennium Copyright Act         •  The Cyber Security Enhancement Act of 2002

attending USC or Occidental.

I would like to clarify one thing about the 1970 USC game. Talk about urban legend. There have been numerous stories and documentaries about Coach going to the USC dressing room after that game and bringing Sam Cunningham back into our locker room and saying, “This is what a real football player looks like.” I was there and it didn’t happen. It wasn’t unusual for Coach Bryant to go to a visiting locker area after a game and congratulate the other team if they beat us and he did do that after the game. But he never brought anyone back to our dressing room.

Why It Works: Artificial Advancement Drives Effort Researchers at the USC Marshall School of Business describe the ‘endowed progress effect,’ whereby individuals put greater effort into completing a task they think they have already begun, even if that process is constructed artificially. Through a series of studies, Nunes and Dreze found that the illusion of progress was a powerful motivator – as users felt they’d already started a task, they gained momentum towards completing it.

Artist M. v. Johnson, 917 F.2d 980 (7th Cir. 1990): Does the federal Adoption Assistance and Child Welfare Act of 1980 create a right under which a plaintiff may bring a claim that an organization bound under that legislation has violated such legislation and that the state is equally bound by such federal legislation under 42 U.S.C. § 1983? Yes.

Bobby Hughes, the Brewers’ catcher who had gone to Matt’s alma mater, USC, hit a high fly ball to left field, and it hit a clock at the top edge of the fence. It almost went out of the park. Vasgersian was doing the call, and his voice went up in anticipation of a home run, and without batting an eye, he said, “Bobby Hughes just got clock-blocked!” It was one of the funnier moments of my time with him.

Still, my reporting found that P2P meth in massive quantities is damaging minds, perhaps irreparably, across the United States. The growing homeless encampments in many cities and rural towns are meth’s deadening creation, I’m convinced. Though other drugs and alcohol are part of the mix, many encampments are simply meth colonies. They provide a community for users, creating the kinds of environmental cues that USC psychologist Wendy Wood found crucial in forming habits. Encampments are places where addicts flee from treatment, where they can find the warm embrace of approval for their meth use. “It took me twelve years of using before I was homeless,” said Talie Wenick, a counselor in Bend, Oregon. “Now, within a year they’re homeless. So many homeless camps have popped up around Central Oregon—huge camps on Bureau of Land Management land, with tents and campers and roads they’ve cleared themselves. And everyone’s using. You’re trying to help someone get clean, and they live in a camp where everyone is using.

I once heard of a child-teaching method so effective that the child remembered the learning experience over fifty years later. The child later became Dean of the USC School of Music and then related to me what his father said when he saw his child taking candy from the stock of his employer with the excuse that he intended to replace it later. The father said, "Son, it would be better for you to simply take all you want and call yourself a thief every time you do it" The best antidote to folly from an excess of self-regard is to force yourself to be more objective when you are thinking about yourself, your family and friends, your property, and the value of your past and future activity.This

Tinder would work with Justin’s younger brother to throw a birthday party for one of his popular, hyperconnected friends on campus, and use it to promote Tinder. The Tinder team would do all the work to make it an incredible party. The day of the party, students from USC were getting bused to a luxurious house in LA, where everything had been set up to pull you inside. Sean described how it worked: There was one catch with the party: First, you had to download the Tinder app to get in. We put a bouncer in the house to check that you had done it. The party was great—it was a success, and more importantly, the next day, everyone at the party woke up and remembered they had a new app on their phone. There were attractive people they hadn’t gotten to talk to, and this was their second chance. The college party launch tactic worked. For the Tinder team, this one party created the highest ever one-day spike of downloads, however modest it might seem in retrospect. It’s not just the number that matters here, but that it was “500 of the right people”—Sean would explain to me later. It was a group of the most social, most hyperconnected people on the USC campus, all on Tinder at the same time. Tinder started to work. Matches began to happen, as the students who met each other from the previous night started to swipe through and then chat. Amazingly, 95 percent of this initial cohort started to use this app every day for three hours a day. The Tinder team built one atomic network, but soon figured out how to build the next one—just throw another party. And then another, by going to other schools, and throwing even more parties. Each network was successively easier to start. Tinder quickly reached 4,000 downloads, then 15,000 within a month, and then 500,000 just a month after that—first by replicating the campus launch, but then letting the organic viral growth take over.

Tinder would work with Justin’s younger brother to throw a birthday party for one of his popular, hyperconnected friends on campus, and use it to promote Tinder. The Tinder team would do all the work to make it an incredible party. The day of the party, students from USC were getting bused to a luxurious house in LA, where everything had been set up to pull you inside. Sean described how it worked: There was one catch with the party: First, you had to download the Tinder app to get in. We put a bouncer in the house to check that you had done it. The party was great—it was a success, and more importantly, the next day, everyone at the party woke up and remembered they had a new app on their phone. There were attractive people they hadn’t gotten to talk to, and this was their second chance. The college party launch tactic worked. For the Tinder team, this one party created the highest ever one-day spike of downloads, however modest it might seem in retrospect. It’s not just the number that matters here, but that it was “500 of the right people”—Sean would explain to me later. It was a group of the most social, most hyperconnected people on the USC campus, all on Tinder at the same time. Tinder started to work. Matches began to happen, as the students who met each other from the previous night started to swipe through and then chat. Amazingly, 95 percent of this initial cohort started to use this app every day for three hours a day.

Terre Hill received an official nod by the United States Coast And Geodetic Survey, USC&GS, or just simply CGS, in the form of a permanent bronze marker in 1934. The Terre Hill survey markers have been officially recovered, or found, only four times since 1934. Unofficially the station has been logged three more times by geocachers using the NGS datasheets for reference.

Had LinkedIn started with an undesirable set of users, it likely would not have become a magnet for the true believers that continued to onboard their friends over time. Had Tinder begun somewhere besides USC—let’s say in a small rural town—it wouldn’t have been able to build campus to campus, and then large cities and then on from there. It would have changed the whole strategy. For networked products, the curation of the network—who’s on it, why they’re there, and how they interact with each other—is as important as its product design. Starting with a deliberate point of view on who’s best for your network will define its magnetism, culture, and ultimate trajectory.

Flyers were placed in every seat stating: ‘When, not if, the Lakers win the title, balloons will be released from the rafters, the USC marching band will play Happy Days Are Here Again and broadcaster Chick Hearn will interview Elgin Baylor, Jerry West and Wilt Chamberlain in that order.

The last time Josie Bates saw Linda Sheraton they were twenty years old and sharing a cheap apartment in downtown Los Angeles. Both were on a USC athletic scholarship, and both were poor as church mice. Josie, for all intents and purposes, was orphaned. Linda hailed from a trailer park, raised by a mother who didn't give a damn if her daughter ended up in poverty or Princeton. That was where the similarities ended

Humanistic inquiry takes us into realms that lie at the heart of what it means to be a thinking, feeling person, and into realms of interpretation and analysis beyond what facts and figures alone can tell us.

O’Malley was still talking. Leaphorn looked at him, wondering about this FBI policy. Where did they find so many O’Malleys? He had a sudden vision of an office in the Department of Justice building in Washington, a clerk sending out draft notices to all the male cheerleaders and drum majors at U.S.C., Brigham Young, Arizona State, and Notre Dame, ordering them to get their hair cut and report for duty. He suppressed a grin.

Two thoughts crossed my mind: “Why in the hell is the USC first-team defense still on the field?” And, “Roy Nichols is not going to be able to block this guy.” Nichols was a converted defensive lineman who backed up our starting tackle, Joe Staysniak.

What is elementary, worldly wisdom? Well, the first rule is that you can’t really know anything if you just remember isolated facts and try and bang ’em back. If the facts don’t hang together on a latticework of theory, you don’t have them in a usable form. —CHARLIE MUNGER, UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA (USC) BUSINESS SCHOOL, 1994

What really is, in that overused phrase, one of the last untold stories of World War II.

On July 13, 2018, a federal grand jury in the District of Columbia returned an indictment charging Russian military intelligence officers from the GRU with conspiring to hack into various U.S. computers used by the Clinton Campaign, DNC, DCCC, and other U.S. persons, in violation of 18 U.S.C. §§ 1030 and 371 (Count One); committing identity theft and conspiring to commit money laundering in furtherance of that hacking conspiracy, in violation of 18 U.S.C. §§ 1028A and 1956(h) (Counts Two through Ten); and a separate conspiracy to hack into the computers of U.S. persons and entities responsible for the administration of the 2016 U.S. election, in violation of 18 U.S.C. §§ 1030 and 371 (Count Eleven).

USC’s old handle: “The University of Spoiled Children.” USC’s new handle: highly selective West Coast university with preeminent programs in arts and media. The difference: a deluge in applications of historic proportions as students flock to LA and the region’s only major private university. (Rising Stars - USC)

decades. Bosch pulled up his phone’s search app and typed in USC EVK to see what might come up. It got a hit right away. The EVK was still operating on the campus and was located in the Birnkrant Residential College on 34th Street. He pulled the address up on his maps app and was soon looking at an overview of the sprawling campus

It had occurred to Leaphorn earlier that Baker was not, in fact, an agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. He didn’t look like one. He had bad teeth, irregular and discolored, and an air of casual sloppiness, and something about him which suggested a quick, inquisitive, impatient intelligence. Leaphorn’s extensive experience with the FBI suggested that any of these three characteristics would prevent employment. The FBI people always seemed to be O’Malleys — trimmed, scrubbed, tidy, able to work untroubled by any special measure of intelligence. O’Malley was still talking. Leaphorn looked at him, wondering about this FBI policy. Where did they find so many O’Malleys? He had a sudden vision of an office in the Department of Justice building in Washington, a clerk sending out draft notices to all the male cheerleaders and drum majors at USC, Brigham Young, Arizona State, and Notre Dame, ordering them to get their hair cut and report for duty.

If Bryant knew, it was something of a secret to those hoping otherwise. The college recruiting letters arrived by the boatload—from Duke and North Carolina, from UCLA and USC, from Delaware and Drexel and Villanova and Temple. This was the fall of 1995, and at the time Joe Bryant was in his second year as an assistant at nearby La Salle University, his alma mater. He had been hired in 1993 by Speedy Morris, the head coach, and while the official reasoning was that the program needed a replacement for the recently departed Randy Monroe, the reality was different. “Did I think it’d help us get Kobe?” Morris said decades later. “Yes. Of course. Joe was not a good assistant coach. He didn’t work hard, he didn’t actually know that much. Nice guy. But he was there so we’d get his son.

dancing in various strangely old-fashioned places around LA., especially one place that is now gone, called the Black Forest, where a German band played, and tall USC alumni of German descent did gorgeous old waltzes.

the federal Highway Beautification Act limits signs along interstate highways unless, for instance, they direct travelers to “scenic and historical attractions” or advertise free coffee. See 23 U.S.C. §§ 131(b), (c)(1), (c)(5).

For example, although the President’s power to grant pardons is exclusive and not subject to congressional regulation, see United States v. Klein, 80 U.S. (13 Wall.) 128, 147-148 (1872), Congress has the authority to prohibit the corrupt use of “anything of value” to influence the testimony of another person in a judicial, congressional, or agency proceeding, 18 U.S.C. § 201(b)(3)—which would include the offer or promise of a pardon to induce a person to testify falsely or not to testify at all.

USCES - Immigration & Education Specialists USCES has helped over 20,000 clients achieve their immigration and education goals.

can you create a learning organization when everyone's speeding? They may complete a record number of tasks or make an awful lot of telephone calls, but learning—not likely. Learning requires time to reflect, assimilate, and practice. Even the business schools from Harvard to USC are taking this seriously by offering exercises in reflection in their course work.

constantly see people rise in life who are not the smartest, sometimes not even the most diligent, but they are learning machines. They go to bed every night a little wiser than they were when they got up, and boy, does that help, particularly when you have a long run ahead of you. … So if civilization can progress only with an advanced method of invention, you can progress only when you learn the method of learning. Nothing has served me better in my long life than continuous learning. I went through life constantly practicing (because if you don’t practice it, you lose it) the multidisciplinary approach and I can’t tell you what that’s done for me. It’s made life more fun, it’s made me more constructive, it’s made me more helpful to others, and it’s made me enormously rich. You name it, that attitude really helps. —CHARLIE MUNGER, USC LAW SCHOOL, 2007

Percival Everett is a Distinguished Professor of English at USC. His most recent books include Dr. No (finalist for the NBCC Award for Fiction and winner of the PEN/Jean Stein Book Award), The Trees (finalist for the Booker Prize and the PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction), Telephone (finalist for the Pulitzer Prize), So Much Blue, Erasure, and I Am Not Sidney Poitier.

Bosch leaned back and took in air. He felt immense sadness come over him. He didn’t know all the details. He had heard only Vance’s view of the story—an eighteen-year-old’s experience filtered through the frail and guilty memory of an eighty-five-year-old. But he knew enough to know that what happened to Vibiana wasn’t right. Vance had left her on the wrong side of good-bye, and what happened in June brought about what happened in February. Bosch had a gut feeling that Vibiana’s life was taken from her long before she put the rope around her neck. The death certificate offered details that Bosch wrote down. Vibiana took her life on February 12, 1951. She was seventeen. Her next of kin was listed as her father, Victor Duarte. His address was on Hope Street, which had been one of the streets Bosch had written down after studying the map of the USC neighborhood. The street name seemed like a sad irony now. The lone curiosity on the document was the location of death. There was only an address on North Occidental Boulevard. Bosch knew that Occidental was west of downtown near Echo Park

Before Meg could take a shot, three sharply dressed passengers in blue blazers with University of Southern California and American flag lapel pins took advantage of the distraction and leapt from their seats. As quietly as they could, the USC men beat the crap out of the hijacker.