Dateline>City of Angels

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

And now for this week’s choice for the most interesting, offbeat and/or entertaining web video sharing key themes with this blog…

Yesterday Dateline>City of Angels explored the forgotten history of Griffith Park’s Crystal Springs adobe, along with its possible link to the legendary Feliz Curse. I also took the opportunity to announce I’m writing a book on the curse. Today, on a lark, I decided to search for any related web videos on the topic.

Source: YouTube!
Search Criteria: “Griffith Park + Curse”

The Result: A trailer for a cheesy (so say the reviewers) 2007 horror flick based on the “true story” of the Feliz Curse. If you’re squeamish or easily offended by cinematic blood, gore and bad acting, you may want to skip this clip…

The Backstory

Created by Julian Higgins, son of rocker Bertie, and recently released in the U.S., The Wrath takes some curious creative license with the already fanciful tale, adding a lost treasure and a vengeful beast who dines on trespassers. The film’s plot and other details can be viewed here. Especially brave souls can order/download the full movie from Amazon. Finally, there’s also this Inmag interview, in which Bertie Higgins discloses:

“Julian and I did a short film in L.A.’s Griffith Park in early 2005 and we became very interested in the history of the park. After a great deal of research, we discovered the back story about the haunting of the old Feliz estate (which is now Griffith Park) and the screenplay began to take shape. We felt that the story was very compelling and that it had to be told.”

No offense to the two, but considering how the film seems to mostly parrot the popular urban legend, you have to wonder what passes for “a great deal of research” in Hollywood these days. The Tale of the Feliz Curse is indeed compelling, but the real story behind the myth is even more so. Too bad the research team didn’t dig a little deeper.

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

This week’s choice for the most interesting, offbeat and/or entertaining web video sharing key words or themes with this blog…

Source: YouTube!

Search Criteria: “Los Angeles + Haunted”

The Result: A poignant film noir reenactment of Peg Entwistle’s legendary suicide by writer, director and producer Hope Anderson, creator of the documentary Under the Hollywood Sign. Unfortunately, the video embed is disabled for this clip, so I can’t show it here. To view it, you’ll have to click over to this link.

The Backstory…

For many, the Hollywood sign spells fame, but for Peg Entwistle, it became the ultimate suicide note. Erected in 1923 as a real estate gimmick, the sign originally read “Hollywoodland” and was fitted with thousands of glitzy lights to lure dreamers to the new town…

The seduction worked on Entwistle, a young Broadway actress hit hard by the Depression. Setting her hopes on filmdom, she moved to L.A. and joined her uncle in a small Beachwood Canyon apartment below the sign, whose billboard temptations must have loomed brighter than ever.

But months of auditions went nowhere. Finally, after much struggle, Entwistle landed a bit part in RKO’s Thirteen Women. She called it her big break. Critics called it a bomb. The studio’s calls stopped altogether.

Devastated, Entwistle trekked up the canyon the night of Sept. 18, 1932, scaled the 50-foot “H” and jumped. Legend has it that, ironically, a few days after the star-crossed actress’ body was found, a letter arrived offering her the lead in a picture about a suicidal woman.

Over time, the Hollywoodland sign fell into decay. Eventually, the city lopped off the last four letters and rehabilitated the landmark. Public access has been restricted for years, yet neighbors and city workers say they’ve sometimes spotted a ghostly blonde in 1930s attire wandering its footings, still apparently drawn by the sign’s cruel promise of immortality.

Wish your house were haunted? Need to attract tourists to your creepy old hotel, museum or otherwise spiritless landmark?

Even if your place didn’t come with spooks of its own, you can remedy the situation with Ghosts in a Bottle. That’s right: For a nominal fee, ghost-hunter Jon Deese will capture someone else’s phantasm, bottle it and ship it right to your door. Complete with certificate of authenticity and warning booklet, no less.

Deese won’t disclose his “secret” method for coaxing the spirits out of the ether and into the containers, let alone how he “mysteriously” keeps them from popping their corks. Nor does his website say anything about refrigeration requirements or expiration dates.

Still, you’ve got to hand it to Deese. He’s stumbled on a devilishly clever small-business angle to paranormal investigation, which up to now has mainly been the enterprising domain of celebrity psychics and TV ghost busters.

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

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

This week I’ll be spending a lot of time in front of the mirror. Yes, I admit to a little vanity now and then, but I won’t be working on my appearance per se. Rather, I’ll be nervously polishing my delivery skills for a talk I’m presenting to a local historical group, March 17.

The topic is “Angeleno Ghostlore,” and the audience is Las Angelitas del Pueblo, the large, dedicated organization of docents that coordinates the educational programs and walking tours of the El Pueblo de Los Angeles Monument, which includes the original town Plaza, world-famous Olvera Street and several early Los Angeles buildings with a few ghost stories of their own.

I’m both excited and a little jittery. It’s been a while since my last public speaking engagement, and considering the nature of Las Angelitas, I wouldn’t want to disappoint. (The group describes its membership as having “a deep knowledge and love of the history of Los Angeles” and a commitment to sharing this passion with others.)

My talk centers around my contention that in addition to their spooky entertainment value, our region’s phantom tales also boast historical-cultural value that’s all too often ignored. Whether you believe in ghosts or not, as a form of “urban legend” Angeleno Ghostlore offers a window into the city’s past and a fascinating prism for viewing our unique culture and frequently bizarre “sense of place.”

Drawing from personal investigations and interviews, I hope to reveal L.A.’s “shadowy side” while sifting through the fact and fiction surrounding a number of legendary and obscure haunts, including City Hall, the Bradbury Building, Houdini Mansion, Hollywood Sign, and of course, Griffith Park.

Although I confess to some minor stage fright, I’m really honored by the opportunity to share this passion of mine with Las Angelitas — and I look forward to learning from them as well. Despite the topic, it promises to be a lively event.

I’m probably going to regret this. An open call for ghost stories is a sure way to attract crackpots, who will likely respond in far greater numbers than serious eye-witnesses. Nonetheless, here goes…

It’s no secret that for a while now, the legendary Feliz Curse has been a passion of mine. Thanks to years of rummaging through early California archives, I’ve finally got quite a compelling story to tell. (Without giving it all away, let’s just say truth is stranger than fiction and you can forget everything you’ve ever read about the tale from ghost hunters, historians and tourist websites…)

One thing I still need is modern-day reports of ghosts in Griffith Park, which I know are out there. I’ve seen a few on paranormal websites.

So, if you or anyone you know has witnessed something spooky in the park (that is, other than Tom LaBonge wandering the trails with urban ecologists), drop me a line through the comment link below.

But before you do, a few ground rules:

• Hoaxers need not apply. Your story must be serious, real and credible.
• You must provide your full name and a valid email address before I’ll even consider interviewing you. (The comments link does not auto-post, so don’t worry about your private info being made public. I will NOT post or publish full names or e-mail addresses without your express permission.)
• Don’t leave phone numbers. I’ll make my first contacts with potential interviewees through e-mail only.

OK, there’s my request. Let’s see what kind of monster I’ve created…

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

Considering how the Black Dahlia was last seen leaving this majestic hotel just before her 1947 murder, you’d expect the Biltmore’s walls to be oozing with ectoplasm. And apparently they are — just not with hers.

As is often the case with upscale establishments, Millennium Biltmore management prefers not to indulge rumors of otherworldly guests. Nevertheless, an off-the-record interview I did a few years back with a highly credible source yielded several tales of mysterious phenomenon.

First there’s the young boy who allegedly materializes just outside the Crystal Ballroom. Hotel employees claim to have sighted him peering into the room late at night as they clean up from events. Sometimes, he’ll cautiously venture in through the doors only to vanish in a ghostly game of hide-and-seek. No one has a clue as to who he is or why he’s so drawn to the place.

Read more

With the change in weather, it’s already feeling like October, the month when this blogger’s attention traditionally turns to L.A.’s fascinating body of ghostlore. To help set the mood early, I recently snapped this eerie night shot of an old Victorian in Angelino Heights.

Now a historic overlay zone popular with tourists, Angelino Heights was among the first L.A. suburbs to spring up during Southern California’s late-1800s land boom. Originally, cable cars connected the hillside residences to nearby downtown. According to the Los Angeles Conservancy, the district now boasts more than 50 Victorian homes and the highest concentration of Queen Anne-Eastlake specimens in the City of Angels.

This particular home on Carroll Ave. was built in 1887 for Michael Sanders, a storage warehouse operator. It was declared a city Historic-Cultural Landmark in 1971. Five years later, the entire 1300 block of Carroll Ave. made the National Register of Historic Places.

Despite Angelino Heights’ haunting atmosphere, there are surprisingly few ghost stories floating about. (At least that I’ve been able to uncover.) If anyone out there knows of any good ones, by all means, please share. But in the meantime, don’t worry, there will be plenty of other spooky sites to explore in coming weeks.

The famed Porciuncula isn’t the only river to make a dramatic impact on Los Angeles. Believe it or not, on January 8, 1847, this otherwise unremarkable stretch of San Gabriel Riverbed in present-day Montebello was the most important site in all California, let alone for the City of Angels.

Here Gen. Jose Maria Flores’ Mexican militia engaged U.S. forces led by Gen. Stephen Kearny and Comm. Robert Stockton in what turned out to be a pivotal battle in the Mexican-American War. The prize was Los Angeles, Alta California’s provincial capital and last holdout against the American Conquest. After completely routing Flores over a two-day period, the U.S. contingent finally marched unopposed into the City of Angels on January 10. Read more