Just before the Harbor Freeway ends and spits you into San Pedro, a large orange-colored object within the foothills leading to Palos Verdes usually catches your eye. Even on a foggy day, it stands out among a wall of squat white cylinders and brown earth surrounding it.
It's a painful truth that Angelenos can much too easily identify architectural structures that have been erased from our city's landscape. Some structures are well-known and widely mourned while others have disappeared from our collective consciousness without much afterthought.
While scouring microfilm in the History & Genealogy Department at Central Library a few months back, I was startled to see a name that seemed entirely out of place in a particular publication.
Charlotta Bass, a name well known in Los Angeles history circles, has surfaced recently on a national front thanks in part to the ascension of Senator Kamala Harris to the position of Vice President of the United States.
For someone who only spent about 25 years in Los Angeles, Edwin Cawston made a lasting impression on the cultural history of our great city and he did so through, of all things, a farm. Dubbed by the New York Journal as “one of the strangest sights in America”, the farm was anything but ordinary.
In a city where no structure is guaranteed permanence, the iconic Bullocks Wilshire building turns an astounding 90 years old this week.
It's a rare instance when a junior high school yearbook has implications on the social history of a city so when you see it, it’s pretty amazing; the winter 1937 edition of the John Burroughs Junior High School yearbook, Burr, is one such anomaly.