Dateline>City of Angels

The Film: Sunset Blvd., the 1950 film noir classic co-written/directed by Billy Wilder and starring Gloria Swanson, William Holden, Erich von Stroheim and Nancy Olson.

The Scene: After leading two repo men on a high-speed car chase along a winding stretch of Sunset Blvd., down-on-his-luck screenwriter Joe Gillis (Holden) ditches them with a quick turn into an old, rundown estate. Mistaken for a “pet mortician” by the mansion’s bizarre owner (Swanson), Gillis tries to explain his intrusion into her reclusive world as her identity begins to dawn on him…

“You’re Norma Desmond… You used to be in silent pictures… You used to be big.”

“I am big! It’s the pictures that got small!”

The Question: What was the address for this legendary exchange, (a) in the film, and (b) in real life? (Again, no fair Googling up hints.) Click the Read More link to see the answer… Read more

As the Big Orange Landmarks blog recently reminded us, L.A.’s 1928 Parkinson-designed City Hall is an architectural icon worth exploring inside and out. But if you ever do find yourself touring its hallowed halls, be on the lookout for a restless spirit said to be making his own ghostly rounds of the place.

For years paranormal websites like The Shadowlands have insisted that a well-tailored “aristocrat” from the 1700-1800s haunts the third-floor vestibule area, accosting people on city business and generally making a nuisance of himself. The unattributed reports also claim that security cameras have captured additional spooky activities on the upper floors late at night after everything’s locked up.

The problem? I’ve been checking here and there into this juicy piece of ghostlore for some time now. Civic officials, their staffs, city archivists, building engineers, public information officers, docents, security guards — no one at City Hall that I’ve contacted (either on or off the record) has ever heard of the phantasm, let alone seen it.

Near as I can tell, the Internet stories are merely embellished versions of a short blurb found in Dennis William Hauck’s Haunted Places, The National Directory, the first edition of which appeared in 1994. His entry reads… Read more

As they say, looks are often deceiving. Take for example the Crystal Springs Ranger Headquarters at Griffith Park, pictured above.

At first glance it appears to be just another of L.A.’s ubiquitous 1930s Spanish Colonial bungalows. Beneath the whitewash and plaster, however, hides a landmark with a much more storied past — and perhaps even a long-lost secret or two…

The Official Story

Southern California’s historical community has long referred to the structure as the Paco Feliz Adobe, presumably built by its namesake Francisco “Paco” Feliz circa 1853. Now used as a film office and meeting center, park historians note that the Crystal Springs adobe is “the only surviving structure from the Rancho Los Feliz Era,” although it was substantially altered in the 1920s-’30s. In fact, sources at the park’s archives indicate that it’s difficult to discern exactly how much of the old adobe was preserved within the newer walls, which adhere closely to the home’s original three-room floorplan, complete with fireplace.

Ironically, this little adobe has seen some major intrigue over the decades. People often confuse it with the Feliz hacienda, which supposedly dated to the 1830s, if not earlier. However, park historians say this house served not as the main family dwelling, but as one of several outbuildings for ranch hands. The actual Feliz manor comprised two stories and stood near the present zoo parking lot. It was demolished by park authorities in 1921 to make room for the Wilson Golf Course — a brazen desecration that sparked an uproar among that era’s preservationists… Read more

We may not always be consistent about much else here at Dateline>City of Angels, but the one regular feature you can count on is Friday Flix. And now, without further adieu: This week’s choice for the most interesting, offbeat and/or entertaining web video sharing key words or themes with this blog…

Source: LiveVideo
Search Criteria: “Los Angeles + Cemeteries”

The Result: A musical photo montage of many of the city’s more interesting grave markers, courtesy Beneath L.A. and local author/grave hunter Steve Goldstein. The roster of dearly departed includes famous and infamous alike, with epitaphs ranging from understated to over-the-top funny.

At the crossroads of Sunset and Hollywood Blvds., the Vista was originally built in 1923 by J.H. Woodhouse & Sons as a vaudeville playhouse. Architecturally, the theater’s simple Spanish Revival facade conceals a strikingly gaudy Egyptian interior that was all the rage in the 1920s. Historically, the Vista occupies the former site of D.W. Griffith’s massive Babylonian sets for Intolerance (1923), recalling the gradual shift of L.A.’s fledgling movie biz westward from the Edendale/Silver Lake area toward present-day Hollywood.

This Week’s Source for the most interesting, offbeat and/or entertaining web video sharing key words or themes with this blog: YouTube!

Search Criteria: Los Angeles + Angel’s Flight.

The Result: A January 2007 KTLA-5 report on the scheduled summer reopening of the historic Angel’s Flight funicular depicted in this blog’s banner, featuring of all people, Star Trek’s George Takei. (Not to be impatient or anything, George, but here we are coming up on Summer 2008, and still no 25-cent ride up Bunker Hill in sight.)

Some Added History… Read more

Like so many boys growing up, I loved model trains. While my dad’s generation fixated on the famous Lionel O scales, my brothers and I built our miniature tunnels, trestles and crossing gates around the Tyco HO train sets of the 1960s and ’70s.

Those hobby adventure days may be long gone, but it’s good to know that whenever I wax nostalgic for my childhood toys, there are bigger and better versions still close at hand.

I’m speaking, of course, of Griffith Park’s Travel Town, established in December 1952 to showcase the real, full-sized train sets that grown-ups eventually grew tired of and discarded. First envisioned as a sort of “railroad petting zoo” where kids could freely roam, climb and explore the locomotives, Travel Town took a more serious track in the 1980s, adopting a Master Plan emphasizing growth, restoration and preservation. Since then, the museum has been busy fine-tuning its train and railroad memorabilia collections and expanding its educational programs for young and old alike.

According to the museum’s website, the present muster of historical engines and cars dates as far back as 1864 and includes 16 locomotives, four interurbans, nine freight cars and cabooses, and nine passenger cars. Located at 5200 Zoo Drive, the museum is open M-F., 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., and weekends, 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. All aboard!

Welcome again to Friday Flix, Dateline>City of Angel’s weekly feature showcasing my pick for the most interesting, offbeat and/or entertaining web videos sharing key words or themes with this blog. (Sure, you could sift through the vast online wasteland yourself, but why bother when I’m more than happy to do it for you?)

This Week’s Search: YouTube! Keywords: Los Angeles + History

The Result: An incredible exploration of the mythic stature that Hollywood has bestowed on numerous Southern California landmarks, created and posted a year ago by Blair Erickson. Inspired by a California Geography class, Erickson and company managed to create a video so compelling that it even caught the attention of CNN. Whether or not you’re seeing it for the first time, I’m sure you’ll agree the flick is still as captivating today as it was in April 2007. Roll ‘em!

Ready for another brief tour of L.A.’s haunting past?

Off the beaten track, in the City of Industry, you’ll find a small but significant cemetery, known simply as El Campo Santo. Part of the six-acre Workman Temple Homestead Historical Park, the graveyard dates to 1855, and is the L.A. area’s first private burial ground. Originally, it was meant to hold the Workman, Rowland and Temple families along with their ranch workers, but through a twist of fate also became the final resting place of Pio Pico, California’s last Mexican governor, and his wife Maria Ygnacia.

As if visiting the graves of these notable Californios isn’t thrilling enough for die-hard history buffs, the site also boasts the last remaining example of decorative cast-iron fencing common to this region’s 19th Century bone yards — and perhaps a few other buried mysteries as well. 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

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

I don’t know why this young lady fascinates me so, but she does.

Maybe it’s her coy, backward glance and easy, confident smile. Or perhaps it’s her dark, penetrating eyes and casual sense of fashion.

Whatever it is, I was transfixed from the moment I saw her and had to know her story: Why was she here, all alone, lending considerable poise and personality to an otherwise dingy alleyway near Sunset and Benton?

Today I finally stopped and asked.

“A friend painted her about seven years ago,” shrugged the busy owner of the furniture store that occupies the building. “He’s an artist. He does paintings all around this area.”

No more details than that, except that the painted lady’s come-hither looks have enticed other “urban artists” (translation: taggers) to add their own flourishes to the simple, black-and-white work. The most recent “BTC” addition was apparently sprayed on just last night by a tagger whose signature reads “Duck.” (At least Duck and crew were tasteful enough to stay true to the initial artist’s color scheme.)

The Silver Lake/Echo Park area boasts scores of murals, not to mention countless examples of “non-commissioned” urban art (translation: graffiti). But I’m also bemused by the faded, original names of cafes, stores and apartments that grace the sides of numerous early 1900s structures. Plus, you never know when renovation or new construction will suddenly expose a long-lost soda, booze or similar ad from a bygone era.

We pass by them each day, oblivious to their messages. But every once in a while, at least for the nostalgically minded, these works ignite the imagination: Who painted them? Who lived or worked in the building way back when? What were the circumstances of their lives? What, if anything, did they go on to accomplish? Where are they now? Is this all that survives them?

Perhaps that’s really what fascinates me about the Young Lady of the Wall. She and her counterparts throughout the neighborhood lend more than a “sense of place.” They unite past, present and future, prompting occasional musings about life, art, our own mortality and the legacies we may (or may not) leave behind.

Except maybe during rush hour when traffic grinds to a crawl, the winding drive along Laurel Canyon Blvd. can border on the mystical. After all, this rustic L.A. neighborhood is steeped in history and lore. Once a stage pass from the San Fernando Valley through the Hollywood Hills, since the late 1800s the ravine has been a haven for banditos, movie cowboys, prohibition-era boozers, bohemian artists, musicians and other sundry counterculturists. Little wonder so many Angelenos insist the free-spirited road remains a prime connection to otherworldly adventure.

Perhaps no Laurel Canyon site better symbolizes this than the mysterious ruins of a once-posh estate near the intersection of Lookout Mountain Road. Allegedly haunted by master-illusionist Harry Houdini, the private grounds continue to draw lookie-loos seeking fleeting glimpses of his lonely shade amid the property’s rocky stairs and grottoes.

Of course, Halloween is an especially popular time for Houdini drive-bys, since he met the Grim Reaper on this night in 1926. Over the years, there have even been rumors of trespassers sneaking onto the property for clandestine seances in the hopes of conjuring up his spirit — an ironic twist, considering Houdini actually spent much of his career trying to debunk such occultism. Nevertheless, true believers claim the so-called Houdini Mansion is among L.A.’s most haunted places. Read more

A few years back, while researching an article on downtown haunts for a local newspaper, I canvassed the El Pueblo Monument for ghost tales. I wasn’t disappointed. According to numerous sources, many of the old landmarks there teem with spirits – including, possibly, L.A.’s first firehouse.

I say “possibly” because my initial investigations at the station met with mixed results.

“There are no ghosts here; this was always a happy place!” retorted an elderly male docent in response to my questioning.

The young lady who worked with him didn’t seem so sure. She admitted to hearing odd noises upstairs, but had told herself it was only the wind. “I don’t really like to believe in ghosts. There are a lot of cracks in the walls and windows up there,” she explained – all the while casting a wary eye toward her stern-looking senior counterpart.

Obviously, there was more to this story. Like any good reporter, I went snooping. Read more

For Halloween chills, there are few adventures more spine-tingling than a midnight stroll through an old, abandoned cemetery. Unfortunately for us Angelenos, many of our earliest and most historic burial grounds have vanished forever beneath the urban sprawl. Their locales today are more often marked by parking bumps than aging, chiseled tombstones. Read on after the jump to see my picks for L.A.’s Top 5 Forgotten Cemeteries. Who knows? In visiting these sites you may yet find yourself haunted by the long-lost spirits of our past…
Read more