Photo by Lorenzo Gomez
By Stephen Oduntan
Contributing Writer
LOS ANGELES — In March 2016, Lisa Hines spent four agonizing days searching for her 36-year-old daughter — calling jails, visiting police stations and demanding answers. It wasn’t until a commander handed her a phone number that she finally got the truth. The voice on the other end said: “Coroner’s Office.”
“I dropped the phone. I fell out.”
That’s how Hines remembers the moment she learned her daughter, Wakiesha Wilson, had died in LAPD custody.
“My baby had been taken from me,” Hines said. “They murdered her. They didn’t even tell me.”
Hines told her story March 28 standing outside the Metropolitan Detention Center in downtown Los Angeles — the same jail where her daughter died. “No mother should go through what I went through.”
Nine years later, Wilson’s family joined lawmakers, civil rights attorneys and community organizers to announce new legislation that would require law enforcement to notify next of kin within 24 hours if someone in custody dies, is seriously injured, or hospitalized.
The proposals —introduced in both Congress and the California Legislature — represent the culmination of nearly a decade of advocacy in Wilson’s name.
At the federal level, U.S. Rep. Sydney Kamlager-Dove, D-Los Angeles, reintroduced the Family Notification of Death, Illness, or Injury While in Custody Act, inspired by Wilson’s case and the community’s persistent demands.
“Twenty-four hours is not a lot to ask,” Kamlager-Dove said. “It’s a reasonable amount of time for families to know where their loved one is and to advocate for their care and dignity.”
In a brief side interview, she added: “These systems — our jails, our detention centers — they’re quite large and very porous. People get lost in the system. Information gets lost in the system. And regardless of how an injury, illness or death occurs, family members deserve to be notified. You would want to know where your child was. You would want to know how they were doing.”
Her bill would apply to federal detention facilities and direct the U.S. Department of Justice to establish national notification standards.
At the state level, Assemblyman Isaac Bryan, D-Culver City, has introduced a companion bill, AB 1269 — also known as Wakiesha’s Law — which would require similar notification protocols across California’s jails and prisons.
“What happened to Wakiesha was a tragedy,” said Chris Adams, a representative from Bryan’s office. “But what happened after — the 76-hour delay in notifying her family — was an injustice. That’s what we’re here to fix.”
Black Lives Matter co-founder Melina Abdullah, who opened the press conference, emphasized the years of organizing behind the legislation and the painful reality families still face.
“When we say Black Lives Matter, we mean we are reclaiming and demanding our full humanity,” Abdullah said. “This is not justice for Wakiesha — justice would mean she is still alive. But this is justice in her name.”
In a follow-up exchange, Abdullah was asked to respond to critics who might say the legislation is more symbolic than substantive.
She replied: “This is very real, meaningful policy. When we say every jail and prison must notify families if something happens to their loved one — that’s not symbolic. It’s painful enough when a life is stolen, but to have to search and find out the way Lisa Hines did? That shouldn’t happen to anyone.”
Wilson’s mother described in vivid detail how she tried repeatedly to locate her daughter, only to be met with silence and confusion.
“I went from jail to police station — again and again,” Hines said. “Then finally someone said, ‘Hold on, let me get the commander.’ I waited for 30 minutes. Eventually, a different officer got on the phone and asked for my callback number. The commander never called me back. I had to call him. He gave me a number to call. That number was the coroner’s office.”
Attorney Carl Douglas, who represented the family in the aftermath of Wilson’s death, recalled their initial visit to his office and the years of perseverance that followed.
“They weren’t just grieving women. They were warriors,” Douglas said. “Thanks to their courage — and the leadership of folks like Congresswoman Kamlager-Dove and Assemblymember Bryan — we’re finally taking the first reasonable step: requiring families be notified. That is not a burdensome request. It’s the very least we can ask of our system.”
Sheila Harris, Wakiesha’s aunt, noted that the lack of notification wasn’t an isolated incident.
“Since then, we’ve experienced more heartbreak,” she said. “A cousin in Memphis died in custody and his family wasn’t notified, either. It’s still happening.”
She called the legislation urgent and overdue.
“These jails and prisons think they’re above the law,” she said. “That’s why we need Wakiesha’s Law.”
Supporters in the crowd held signs with Wilson’s image and wore T-shirts emblazoned with the phrase “Justice for Wakiesha.” As the event came to a close, speakers and attendees said her name aloud, three times.
“She was beautiful. She had dreams,” Hines said. “And she mattered.”
Stephen Oduntan is a freelance reporter for Wave Newspapers.
