Amid Computer Chatter, Lone Voice Wins Riot Aid : Unrest: A black woman vents anger to a mostly white audience and gets unexpected result--help for the needy.

As the city burned, the computer crowd typed.

Shadowman and Space Dude, Mea Culpa and Doggie-Blue--they were virtual strangers, known to each other only by their aliases, or “handles.” Judging by the messages they exchanged on a Los Angeles computer chat line during the riots, the majority were white.

“A mixed crowd of blacks and Latinos,” Instigator observed as he watched the looters on television. C’est Moi! called them “not normal Americans.” King George said that to him, the violence indicated “some rather horrible things about the current state of black consciousness and their continued willingness to blame other people for their situation.”

Then Kaiju spoke up.

“You don’t know anything about blacks,” the 40-year-old resident of the Crenshaw District told King George. Then, in a series of impassioned messages, Beverly Thomas--the computer consultant who calls herself Kaiju--described what it was like to be a black and living near the flames. She did not want pity, she said. She wanted to make things better.

Thomas had entered the surreal world of electronic dialogue, a place of masked identities--an incognito subculture built on the ability to keep one’s distance. And particularly in times of crisis--the Tian An Men Square massacre, the Gulf War--it is where a surprising number of people, most of them white, turn for solace and debate.

The computer bulletin boards were abuzz during the Los Angeles riots as well--even more so, said some observers, because the issues were so difficult and personal: Race. Class. Injustice. Opportunism. The anonymity of the bulletin boards made it possible to discuss these matters openly, without fear of retribution.

Thomas, with her eloquent, carefully typed “snapshots” about life in the riot zone, managed to break through the shield of secrecy, bridging cultural gaps and turning talk into action. To be sure, not everyone listened. But according to several people who read her words on “Lynzie’s Motherboard,” a multiuser chat system based in Studio City, Thomas moved them to do what they hadn’t done before: get involved.

“This one woman led the discussion from the where’s and the why’s and the what’s . . . into action,” said Richard Hoefer (a.k.a. RH Factor), a white graphic artist from Westwood who has met with Thomas in person since making her acquaintance electronically.

A white public relations consultant who goes by the pseudonym Gaia agreed.

“She was the Edward James Olmos and his broom on the board. She was the one who gave many of us something immediate and positive to do with our pain,” said the West Los Angeles resident. “She knocked us out of our numbness . . . by doing the right thing.”

Prompted by Thomas, Lynzie Flynn, the founder of “Lynzie’s” bulletin board, launched a fund-raising drive on the board and raised more than $1,500. Flynn and two other volunteers took that money and--armed with a detailed shopping list provided by Thomas--bought and delivered groceries and other essentials to South Los Angeles residents.

But that was only the beginning. Via computer, Thomas, who has an MBA from Cal State L.A., has recently sought out about 20 people with accounting and management experience, forming a group to provide free assistance to merchants struggling to fill out loan applications.

“It’s going to be a big help,” said Diane Brady, a spokeswoman for the Small Business Administration’s Disaster Division. Brady said that she plans to refer needy businesses to Thomas’ group, which was recently trained by an SBA loan expert. “It was wonderful of her to call and volunteer.”

Thomas is also rallying professionals to help find investors and development advice for black-owned businesses. And in addition to “Lynzie’s,” she has enlisted the help of two other computer bulletin boards, “The Westwood Storyboard” and “Modem Butterfly,” to get the word out.

“I’m on a mission,” Thomas said. “This is just the beginning. Knowing the talent that is in this city that’s not being tapped into, if we could tap into it, who knows what we can accomplish?”

Thomas has not always had such faith in the power of bulletin board services. In 1990, when she logged on to various boards for the first time, she had just quit her job as a contracts manager at a Van Nuys aerospace company. The reason: As the only black person in a position of authority, she felt she was the target of resentment.

Thomas was raised to have pride in herself. Growing up in her parents’ Crenshaw home, it was always assumed that she and her brother and sister would go to college. Thomas went even further, graduating from UC Berkeley with a degree in semantics and political science and briefly attending Boston University Law School before getting her MBA.

Despite these accomplishments, however, her last job left her disillusioned and angry. “It pretty much led me to believe that it wouldn’t matter how much education I had, how many social skills I had, what experience I had, what performance level I had--the only thing I was going to be judged in accordance with was my race,” she said.

Her early computer discussions did nothing to convince her otherwise. When she brought up issues of race or described the daily indignities and small slights that people of color endure every day, she was chastised for “complaining, whining, accusing. It was like I was picking at an open wound. People didn’t want it to continue.”

Still, she enjoyed the anonymity, which allowed her to engage white people in critical discussions that had not been possible in the corporate world. She named herself Kaiju, the Japanese word for “little demon,” and used the bulletin boards to let off steam.

“It turned out to be quite a bit of therapy for me,” she said.

Before April 29, Thomas said, she rarely wrote about her personal experiences living in South Los Angeles. But when the verdicts in the Rodney G. King beating case sparked violence, she decided that had to change.

Among the bulletin board users, she said, she “saw white people who were very confused, angry and resentful. I said, ‘Maybe my job isn’t finished here.’ ”

Late in the evening on the second day of rioting, Thomas logged on.

“Today a minority of miscreants tore up and destroyed what many of us worked hard to obtain for the past 25 years,” she wrote, explaining that as she toured the streets, she could not stop crying. “(That) is something I didn’t even do when my grandmother died. This was worse. I watched my entire way of life die today.”

While she did not court conflict, she also did not shrink from it. King George, for example, wrote that he feared for the Jewish-owned businesses and institutions along Fairfax Avenue.

“It sends a chill down my spine as I imagine blacks approaching synagogues without any sense of right and wrong,” he wrote. “I just hope the (National) Guard brought plenty of ammo and the good sense to use it.”

Thomas responded fiercely.

“The ultimate fear. Blacks approaching synagogues. Is that your bogyman?” she asked. “Sheeesh . . . I guess you won’t sleep well tonight. . . . You certainly are full of fear-laden stereotypes.”

But even as she expressed her anger and sadness, Thomas said, she resolved to give a message of hope.

“The community is pulling together, as I said it would,” she wrote. “As I traveled through the neighborhood Friday, I stopped to talk to some of the burnt-out and looted businesses. Most of them, including the Koreans, said that they planned to rebuild and reopen. They said they had received much encouragement.”

At times, Thomas suspected many readers found her words as foreign as if she were writing from Calcutta. So she was caught off guard when Dick Burkhalter, a white computer systems analyst from Northridge, sent her a message titled: “How can I help?”

“He put me on the line,” Thomas said with a laugh. “I had written, ‘We’re going to make change. Either come in with us or get out of the way.’ And Dick called me on it. I didn’t think anybody would, but he did.”

Thomas said Burkhalter’s message changed her approach. She listed places where people could volunteer. She urged people not to be afraid. She kept them apprised of progress and continued to tell personal stories from the street.

She was overwhelmed by the response. On the public message board, people began to send in suggestions listing helpful phone numbers and other resources. Still others sent hundreds of messages to Kaiju’s private “mailbox,” offering aid and urging her on.

“They didn’t want the perception in South-Central (to be) that all whites are like King George,” she said. “I was walking airborne. There was no ground.”

Flynn, the systems operator of “Lynzie’s,” noticed the change in Kaiju’s tone.

“She used to come off angry,” Flynn said. “Now, she’s trying to lead them--rather than lashing out, she’s trying to teach.”

Burkhalter was so impressed by Thomas that he volunteered to help organize the SBA loan assistance group. He calls her “a real fighter” and credits her with turning him into one as well.

“I have always been something of a rabble-rouser,” he said. “But in this case, it was more than just talking and ranting and raving. It was a chance to get involved on a personal level. . . . I have made a greater commitment than in the past.”

Thomas has too. Convinced that something concrete must be done to combat stereotypes, she is taking time away from her computer consulting business to design a 10-week intensive program to give jobless people “the tools to become employed.” Though still in the planning stages, the program would be centered around boosting self-esteem, Thomas said.

In addition, she is acting as an adviser to Hoefer, the graphic artist, who is developing a new bulletin board that he hopes will aid in the post-riot rebuilding process. Called “The Resource Link,” this board--which debuted on Independence Day--seeks to connect individuals who would like to get involved with others who need their help.

With all these projects in the works, Thomas has had little time lately to log on.

“Somebody might say, ‘So, what do you think you’re going to do? Save the world?’ ” Her answer: “Yeah! Somebody’s got to do it.”

But she has not forgotten who set things in motion.

“Kaiju is kind of quiet right now,” Thomas said, smiling a devilish smile. “She’s real busy.”

The Electronic Debate

The following excerpts were among hundreds of computer messages written under pseudonyms on a popular “bulletin board” after the riots began: * King George to Dick: This riot, though mixed with many Latinos, to me says some rather horrible things about the current state of black consciousness and their continued willingness to blame other people for their situation. Who now is going to want to look at the black communities and want to help?

* Kaiju to King George: You don’t know anything about blacks. . . . You will never, never understand what it feels like to see this level of devastation, when this has been one’s home for their entire life, and now it is gone. . . . While we watched a mall being looted and burned to the ground across the street from our meeting place, this evening a group of influential residents of the Crenshaw area were already planning a strategy to prevent repeating the tragedy of the Watts riot. . . . This community will be rebuilt. And it will be rebuilt by us, the members of our community, this time. . . . You are welcome to help if you’d like. Or else get out of our way.

* King George to Kaiju: I have no doubt that your city will be rebuilt. The white middle class is filled with compassion--even after all this. . . . (But) the black community continues to cry racism without any internal examination. . . . Without taking some responsibility, no one will respect you enough to have faith in you. No one wants to help someone who only complains.

* Kaiju to King George: It is not the “black and Latino community” that is breaking the laws. It is a small minority of mostly teen-agers and young adults who are creating the havoc. The rest are huddled around a TV just like you, wondering what in the hell is going on, and where is the National Guard to put a stop to it. But a black is a black to you, eh? Next you’ll be saying we all look alike.

* Space Dude to Kaiju: No matter what you think of the trial results, there is no justification for the destruction and slaughter going on right now. 2,000 wrongs still don’t equal one right.

* Kaiju to Space Dude: I hardly advocated or justified the destruction. In fact, I’m probably angrier about it all than you will ever be. I no longer have a neighborhood or a history due to it. I wouldn’t wish this hell on anyone.

* Ciaran to Kaiju: Do you really recommend that white people go to South-Central to help out? I think it would be a brave thing to do, but . . . I cannot get the image out of my mind of the bewildered people who had their car windows smashed as they drove along. . . . I can’t bring myself to believe that the hatred has subsided to a reasonable level. Tell me what I can do.

* Kaiju to Ciaran: Today, at Diane Watson’s office, a good quarter of the volunteers were white. There were also Koreans, Hispanics and, of course, blacks. All working together for a common goal. . . . I’d say it is safe for you to come and help, and you’d be very welcome if you do!

* Kaiju to all: The other day, as my father worked at a South-Central church, a young man and his wife and 15-month-old baby came in to volunteer their services. As my father and this man worked side by side for a while, the young man quietly said that he had to help. . . . He had lost his job due to the store he worked in being burnt. Later, after several hours, he whispered to my dad, ‘Do you think it would be all right if I took a food package? We don’t have anything, and the baby is hungry.’ This man was too proud to just come in and ask for a package . . . he had wanted to work for it. These are the people who we are helping. For all those who have donated so generously of themselves . . . I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart.