Part 1
One month ago this morning, at the infamous hour of 2 o’clock, two Culver City lives began unspooling at a frightfully dizzying pace, in opposite directions — and the merry-go-round probably is not nearly ready to stop.
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Mr. Singerman
Until now, however, only one side has been recounted. The other will begin to unfold presently.
As the news spread, the incident quickly settled into a good guy vs. bad guy matchup — no doubt about it, storytellers insisted.
The publicly unchallenged storyline has been that City Councilman Mehaul O’Leary was clopped to the chops by an unruly patron who resisted an admonition to leave Mr. O’Leary’s Irish pub at closing time.
Practically without contradiction the past 4 weeks, constant retellings invariably have been weighted in the Councilman’s favor. Not only was he victimized on his own premises, he won lasting sympathy because he suffered the only blow thrown and landed in the hospital for a week with broken bones about the right side of his face.
Singerman’s Personality
A dramatically different accounting of character and events emerged this week, however, when associates and friends of Robert Singerman, the alleged assailant, assembled to give voice where there has been none.
A blend of eyewitnesses and friends with lengthy histories with Mr. Singerman brought out a starkly reconfigured portrait of what they say really happened at closing time. They presented previously untold context in which events occurred, and provided illumination on the personal life of Mr. Singerman.
Mr. O’Leary’s vulnerable reputation and image underwent severe criticism, if not a scalding, when the other side began its recounting. Far from arm’s length rivals, friends said that Mr. Singerman and Mr. O’Leary developed a cordial relationship during the last couple of years. While they weren’t bosom buddies, the Councilman gave his cell phone number to Mr. Singerman, who locked it into his phone.
Mr. O’Leary said that Mr. Singerman came to his pub two or three times a year, but those who know the customer say otherwise.
Friends say Mr. Singerman was a semi-regular patron at Joxer Daly’s. He has been there enough to have witnessed this kind of scene before.
They describe the former athlete as a regular guy with an unremarkable but still laudable background.
A Culver City High School graduate known for his football prowess, he played football at West L.A. College and won a scholarship to Florida A& M, from where he graduated.
Customer and proprietor were not so close, though, friends said, that if they met on the street they would bear-hug each other.
Undeniably, attention swings toward Mr. Singerman when he enters a room. At 6 feet and nearly 300 pounds, he is larger than most.
“Rob’s heart and his passion are in the music business,” said a close friend, adding that Mr. Singerman makes his living as the manager for a popular musical entertainer, a gig he loves, fulfilling one of his two passions. “Music with a beat, that is what he really loves,” said a friend. “His other main motivation is writing very rhythmic music.”
Although police announced not long after the disputed Aug. 9 incident that charges of assault with a deadly weapon, his fists, likely would be filed against the 28-year-old Mr. Singerman, the District Attorney has not filed — and may not. He surrendered several days later and promptly posted $60,000 bail. The defendant’s arraignment is scheduled for early October.
Numerous sources familiar with both parties maintain that news of this classic disputation never would have leaked beyond the sturdy doors of Joxer Daly’s if one of the combatants had not been a City Councilman. “What’s the big deal?” asked an official at City Hall, turning her palms upward. This kind of disagreement, harsh though it was, occurs nightly in Culver City and every other town I know of.”
(To be continued)
