Korean Turnover.

FOR the better part of two decades, Korean Americans have played a crucial role in L.A.'s economic mosaic by their willingness to own and operate mom-and-pop businesses in the inner city that otherwise would have few takers. On occasion, these merchants have been targeted as abrasive, rapacious and worse -- tragically played out eight years ago during the Los Angeles riots when hundreds of Korean Americans lost their businesses. For all that, many of them held on to make a life for themselves and their families.

But ever-so-gradually these business owners are closing up shop, mostly because they have neared retirement age and their children, often college educated, show little interest in taking over the family business. Such a shift, which has played out in previous waves of immigrant entrepreneurs, carries major consequences for the area's grassroots economy.

Nearly half of Korean American business owners recently surveyed by the Community Development Technology Center cited retirement and succession as their most important financial concerns, a far greater percentage than among the Chinese Americans queried. That's not surprising since much of L.A.'s Korean community arrived here in the 1970s as a result of loose immigration rules and weak economic conditions in Korea. By 1990, some 200,000 Korean Americans, nearly 24 percent of the national total, had settled in Los Angeles.

For years, Koreans were considered among the most insular of L.A.'s immigrant groups. But younger generations of doctors, lawyers, engineers and accountants are looking beyond the environs of Koreatown or South Central. They have little interest in working long hours for a modest paycheck and who could blame them?

In the past, other immigrant groups moved up the social and financial ladder, only to be replaced by the newer arrivals. Even if you didn't speak the language or had minimal education, owning a store became a reachable goal. But this time, the circumstances are different -- no one group appears able or interested in taking over from those retiring Korean Americans.

National retailers, it seems, are finally discovering the profit potential of inner-city neighborhoods -- and in the process killing off this merchant class. While the jobs created by these chains could hardly be viewed as bad news, there is a price to be paid: the loss of an economic entry point.

This sets the stage for an important transformation over the next few years, as hundreds of inner-city stores are shuttered. The question that L.A. development officials -- along with local lenders -- must now consider is: What happens to those properties? Will they sit vacant, creating the kind of decay and hopelessness that pervaded the inner city 30 years ago, or will they be put to good use?

Merely hoping that the marketplace will work things out might not be good enough. The trick is to turn these properties into something that would enhance the community, whether it's a service business not being offered by the national chains or a manufacturing site that would attract entry-level workers -- the same folks who in years past would find financial refuge in a mom-and-pop operation.

All economies change according to the people and circumstances being served. What's happening among Korean Americans is part of that change -- and it mustn't be ignored.