For gang outreach workers, wrestling with psychological scars now part of the battle

LOS ANGELES — Kevin "Twin" Orange can still recite the names of the ones he couldn't save, even if time has blurred his memory of when and where they died.

For years, whenever his phone rang with news of a shooting in his corner of South Los Angeles, the veteran gang interventionist would race to the scene to comfort grieving relatives and friends, while doing his best to tamp down any talk of retaliation.

But even as he tried to put on a strong face in front of others, the stress and trauma of more than a decade of peacemaking began to catch up to him. He had always kept those feelings bottled up, pride preventing him from asking for help.

"In our community that's taboo, so when you talk about trauma, I think that's like a soft word to talk about mental health," said Orange, who runs the street outreach group Advocates for Peace & Urban Unity. "It's unresolved trauma, and I think it stems back to before we was even born, that our parents passed on to us."

Orange, 59, had his first panic attack at age 35 or 36, not long after being shot. It is an incident he'd rather not discuss. While recovering from his injuries, he was lying down at