Dateline>City of Angels

Starting tonight, this blog may be inactive for a day or two. It’s come under a nasty spybot attack, which may require drastic measures to repel.

Yesterday I decided to make a few minor changes to my WordPress templates, which power this blog. While hacking my way around the code, I discovered someone else has apparently been busy doing the same. The evidence was there for all to see in my footer template… Hundreds of URL referrals to porn and pharmaceutical sites.

Well, actually, it wasn’t there for all to see. The hackers were clever enough to make sure the code included a command to keep their vile handiwork invisible. Visitors to this blog are safe. It’s not a virus that can be passed around. Apparently these parasites are attempting to increase their page ranking in Google by making it appear my site (among others) is linking to them.

So, as I say, for the next day or so I’ll be updating my WordPress infrastructure and beefing up security. There’s a risk involved. From what I understand, other bloggers who have updated or installed the necessary patches have crashed their sites. Hopefully, I won’t suffer the same fate. But in case I do, keep checking back. Even if it means starting from scratch, I’ll be back. Sooner rather than later.

Poking around the web late last night, I stumbled on a brief but fascinating video by Tony Biasotti commemorating the infamous St. Francis Dam Disaster.

For those unfamiliar with the history, back in 1926, William Mulholland completed the dam to help ensure a steady water flow for a fledgling but rapidly growing Los Angeles. Townspeople celebrated it as an engineering triumph. Ranchers downstream in San Francisquito Canyon, however, weren’t so impressed. They nicknamed it the Giant Tombstone.

They didn’t know how prophetic they were… Read more

Knowing my fondness for old graveyards, a friend sent me this link to local news coverage of Atlanta’s Oakland Cemetery. It’s a fun feature series, which includes an online print article, video tours and a humorous piece on some killer epitaphs. (And it’s not even Halloween…)

But that’s the sort of appreciation for these final resting places that I like to see. Unlike Atlanta, here in L.A. the sad truth is that — unless they’re celebrities at Hollywood Forever — the dead don’t get near as much respect. As I’ve noted before, several of our most historic graveyards have long since been paved over. In fact, just over a year ago, the Southland’s first and most notable “pioneer cemetery,” at the end of the Santa Fe Trail near Rosemead, faced similar obliteration.

Oddly, it’s name is Savannah, so I can’t help but wonder if its spirits were sending out subliminal messages to my friend hoping to goad me into revisiting their story. I blogged about the struggle of preservationists to save the burial ground a couple of times on my old, now-defunct Radio Userland blog. Then I, like most Angelenos, simply forgot about the shades of the past residing there.

Now what I wrote has come back to haunt me. It follows the jump… Read more

Pardon me while I engage in a lengthy post-Earth Day rant.

Yesterday, while placing the finishing touches on an article on “green messaging” for my favorite off-road trade publication, a writer friend sent me this Earth Day “obituary.”

The premise of my article is that despite stereotypes, from manufacturing to packaging, to cause-related marketing, companies in the off-road aftermarket are showing more environmental initiative than people realize. It’s just that in a world where every other industry seems to be advertising their green friendliness, off-roaders are woefully behind in getting the word out. My friend, however, thought it deliciously ironic that just when I was trying to tell a segment of Corporate America they need to talk more about the environment, the Washington Post is now saying too much talk is killing Earth Day… Read more

This week I had an appointment with some musty old manuscripts in the Rare Books Dept. of the Los Angeles Central Library, located downtown at 5th and Flower. Unlike some respected fellow bloggers who enjoy using mass transit to buzz about the metro area, I’ve always been an unrepentant disciple of Southern California’s automotive cult.

The one exception was a few years ago when I took the daily Metro to a PR job in Orange County. I never could get used to it. All day long, simply knowing my car was 50 miles away in my garage produced roughly the same jitters smokers experience when going cold turkey.

But with my last field trip to the Central Library about a month ago racking up a fairly hefty parking tab, I decided it was time to face my irrational anxieties and give the MTA another try. After all, that’s what any socially conscious Angeleno is expected to do nowadays, right?

Noble intentions notwithstanding, doing my part for a better L.A. turned out to be quite an adventure in true grit. Rather than recount the entire escapade in minute detail, let me simply present the highlights in plus and minus form, starting with the latter…

Read more

Last night I devoted a little free time to the ol’ blog roll to the right. You’ll find a number of new additions, especially in the Historical/Cultural department. The plan is to add many more links and headers in the coming days, as well as arranging them in a more logical order. (That is, once I can figure out the code.) Anyway, if you haven’t clicked on these sites lately, you might want to take the time to visit a few. Even I’d forgotten how interesting so many of them are…

Perhaps no site is more historically and culturally significant to Los Angeles than the El Pueblo Monument. As such, you’d expect the city to treat it as the crown jewel of Angeleno landmarks. Instead, it seldom seems to win any more respect than the common chucherias being hocked up and down Olvera Street.

Want proof? Witness this week’s Downtown News piece by city editor Richard Guzman which reports that El Pueblo appears yet again to be falling prey to our civic leaders’ shortsightedness.

For decades the Plaza area — which attracts an estimated 2 million visitors annually — has remained mired in Christine Sterling’s 1930s romantic fantasy of a Mexican bazaar filled with the song and dance of happy campesinos and artisans. Even today, the place screams old-style tourist trap while portraying early L.A.’s flavor about as accurately as Disneyland presents Main Street USA… Read more

Catching up on my web browsing, I see that the Big Orange Landmarks blog recently got to the Shakespeare Bridge in the Franklin Hills neighborhood, managing to attract the attention of a Los Angeles Times literary blog in the process.

Kudos to Big Orange’s blogger, who writes under the pseudonym Floyd B. Bariscale! Whoever he is, I really enjoy his one-by-one visits to L.A.’s long series of designated historical-cultural landmarks. (Even more, I admire his ability to simply get out, explore and photograph them on a regular basis.)

In regards to the bridge (which I happen to enjoy crossing each morning during my daily “coffee runs” to Los Feliz), Bariscale notes that the origins of its Shakespearian moniker remain a mystery… Read more

OK, enough with the diary-style entries already. I know that the majority of readers don’t come here for my personal musings on life’s little trifles or updates about my career.

No, you crave history, Angeleno pop culture and “sense of place” items, along with a few urban legends and/or ghost stories thrown in every now and then for fun. (Yeah, I see the spikes in my Web Stats when I post that stuff.)

But loyal readers, please understand that this is also my “professional blog.” I have to occasionally demonstrate at least some breadth of subject matter to potential clients. “Finding a voice” that strikes just the right balance isn’t always easy.

What? You don’t care? Give us more local color, you say?

My, you are a demanding bunch, aren’t you?

Nevertheless, your wish is my command!

The post below on Mission San Gabriel’s Campo Santo is tailored for history fans who enjoy unpretentious landmarks. It’s the first of what I hope will be many “weekend tripouts” — modest proposals for quick jaunts through some of our region’s “less-touristy” spots.

Actually, I’ve “resurrected” this 2005 Campo Santo post from my former blog; but trust me, there’s a deeper purpose at work here than simply regurgitating old material to avoid writer’s cramp. This and several upcoming posts are intended to build on a theme. Consider them “plot devices” within a broader narrative…

Looking for a peaceful little Saturday getaway from the workweek’s cares and hassles? I know it sounds macabre, but tranquility awaits you within the walls of Mission San Gabriel’s Campo Santo.

Like many history buffs, I find old cemeteries both oddly soothing and profoundly educational. Walking among the plots, statuary and epitaphs, you never know what names you’ll stumble upon. Nor can you help but muse over our common mortality and the many life stories lost forever to time. It’s as much a philosophical as a historical pursuit.

For this little tour of the Great Beyond, postpone any excursions through the original cemetery within the mission’s courtyard walls. Although that smaller, first cemetery dates to 1778 – making it Los Angeles County’s oldest Christian bone yard – few of its approximately 6,000 neophyte graves are marked. (One notable exception is a Native American named Antonio, the burial ground’s first occupant.)

Instead, make a beeline across the parking lot toward the parish’s larger, second church and pass through the skull-adorned gates to the “newer” cemetery. This is the far more visually rewarding resting place for scores of pioneering families, including names like Lugo, Felix, Verdugo and Ortega, whose simple, unassuming monuments belie their importance to early Los Angeles history. (Up until about 1822, deceased Angelenos were usually transported here for burial.)

Once you’ve read enough tombstones, by all means go back, pay the fee, and wander the gardens and museum of L.A.’s “Mother Church” for the usual tourist fare. Dedicated to the Archangel Gabriel on Sept. 8, 1781 near what is now Montebello, the settlement was moved here five years later. It was fourth in California’s chain of 21 missions, and among the most prosperous.

Unfortunately, there’s little left of the once-sprawling complex, so your sightseeing will likely be brief. Afterwards, you’ll find eats, refreshment and maybe even a little curio shopping in the City of San Gabriel’s modest Mission District, a brief stroll west of the mission’s famous campanile and rectory.

Quick glimpses of the last surviving trunks of the padres’ former vineyard (at one time the most renowned in all California) and the nearby Mission Playhouse complete your adventure. Enjoy!

Web Resources:
MapQuest Directions
Mission San Gabriel Museum
City of San Gabriel

Well, my number came up. Again. I’ve been summoned to jury service.

Thanks to the current system, jury prospects now get to call an automated number the night before their service is scheduled to begin. A computer voice tells you whether you actually need to show up or simply remain “on call.”

In the past year every one of my friends or family who’ve called the Superior Court’s SRV-JURY line have hit the jackpot. Not a single one had to make a personal appearance. Feeling the odds were in my favor, I dialed the number this evening — and came up Snake Eyes. I have to report downtown tomorrow at 7:45 a.m., sharp. Damn!

It’s not that I eschew doing my civic duty. It’s that in the past few years I feel I’ve done more than my share, serving in three separate court cases — including a month-long stint on the County Grand Jury. Interesting and educational, I admit, but I’ve seen enough courtroom drama to last me for at least another year or two.

Being a freelancer, I suppose I’m easy prey. Never held back by work or hardship, I’m always able and (usually) willing to serve. Court officials insist they don’t target people like me for repeat performances. Still, I remain suspicious…

Now here’s something you don’t see everyday — at least not in Southern California. But signs warning pedestrians about alligators and other reptiles were a common sight in Sugar Land, Texas, just outside Houston, where I was traveling for the past week.

This particular caution appeared in the city’s Oyster Creek Park, a large green space popular with local joggers, cyclists and strollers. I soon learned that gators and snakes weren’t the area’s only dangerous inhabitants. Fire ants and leeches also call the place home.

We Left Coast types like to make fun of the South and other “fly-over” regions of the country, often assuming they’re nothing more than a haven for bubbas and bumpkins… Read more