Thursday, November 12, 2009

Remembering West L.A. 60 years Ago

Remembering West Los Angeles in the Forties: Culver City, Westwood, Hollywood



by



Gene L. Gillette







The West Los Angeles of today is dramatically different than the West Los Angles of the 1940s and 50s. Anyone revisiting Culver City, after a seventy year absence, would find the city virtually unrecognizable.



In the Forties, Culver City was very much a ‘small town.’ and from my childhood perspective, a wonderful place to live. Inside Culver City’s boundaries one could find world famous iconic establishments like Metro Goldwyn Mayer (now Sony Pictures) and Helms Bakery. (As an adult I worked at both institutions.) The ‘Helm’s Vans’ traversed the streets of West Los Angeles, selling a variety of products, mainly bread and sweet rolls. To announce their coming, the drivers blew a distinctive whistle as they drove down your street Their vehicles were unique, boxy little ‘vans’ that later, when the service was discontinued, became a much sought after vehicle by nostalgic people from all over the Los Angeles basin.



Culver City had two ‘main streets.’ One was actually named Main Street and it ran between Venice and Culver. Boulevards, .A quaint, one block long ‘Main Street’ that had all the businesses one would expect in a pocket-sized ‘rural’ city. On Main Street there was a fabulous drug store, that had both a soda fountain and –well—drugs. There was a hardware store that was the rival of today’s ‘Ace Hardware.’: also a yardage store and a variety of other businesses you would expect to find on any main street.



The other ‘main street’ (or streets) was Washington and Culver Boulevards, where they merged and split apart again. Just before the merger was the Culver Hotel, a uniquely shaped early Hotel that has since been designated a historical monument. Culver City’s only theater, the Meralta, was located there and its noteworthy history includes burning down around 1942. My buddies and I dug through the ashes of the theater in the hopes of finding theater tickets; never thinking that management would print new ones. A short time later the theater was moved some five blocks west into City Hall, where the theater, on the second floor, shared space with city departments like the Police and other city offices.



. In the Forties there was only one grade school and one High School in Culver City and I attended them both. La Ballona grade school, on Washington Boulevard was a typical grade school, approximately six blocks from my home on Bentley Avenue—a street that flooded regularly during the rainy season. The water would rush down from Venice Boulevard, sometimes coming right up to our porch. (A gratefully welcomed ‘no school’ day.)



Our home on Bentley Avenue was one block north of the (long gone) Culver City Roller Rink, which was at the corner of Bentley and Washington place. It was ‘old’ in the forties, no telling when it was built. Rumor had it that you could crawl under the rink (It was raised.) and look up into the girl’s bathroom—but it was just a childhood rumor—there was nothing under the rink except for darkness—so I was told.



Going north from our house on Bentley to Venice Boulevard (one block), then turning west on Venice Boulevard, you were only a block away from (then) an extraordinary intersection—Venice and Sepulveda Boulevard. The intersection was notable for the many accidents that happened. in the forties. (And fifties.).



Pacific Electric Big Red Cars ran along Venice to the ocean in Santa Monica and going east, downtown to Los Angeles. In fact in the forties the Pacific Electric Big Red Cars webbed the entire Los Angeles Basin. They ran throughout Southern California as far back as the 20’s and ran until 1959 when the last line shut down. At its peak, the Pacific Electric Railway was huge: 1,150 miles of track covering four counties, with 900 cars.



The Venice Boulevard line ran right down the middle of Venice, splitting Venice into two separate streets. The rail line was on an elevated piece of land. Once a month a Big Red Car would slam into a passenger car: trying to beat Big Red across the intersection.



As an aside, the Big Red Cars carried explosive ‘caps’ that were used to warn other Big Red Cars of trouble. They were .stored (unattended and unlocked) in wooden storage bins on board the lumbering behemoths. The caps were approximately 2 X 2 inches across and had two soft metal ribbon-like straps that ran out from the ‘cap.’ These were used to wrap around the rails. As adolescents we used to ‘appropriate’ them and (later) place them on the tracks—hide in some bushes across the street—and watch as a Big Red Car ran over them. (We had to create our own entertainment back ‘in the day.’)



Going east from my home on Bentley, a mere five or six blocks, one came upon the afore mentioned iconic M.G.M. Studios. In the forties and fifties autograph collecting was a hugely popular thing to do among youths of all descriptions. (Mainly girls.) Those days, the ‘main gate’ was next to the Thalberg building, just down a block from Washington

Boulevard. Everyone had autograph books and small groups would mill about, sometimes

waiting for hours, waiting for a ‘star’ to come out. (I once saw Gene Kelly emerge but never got his autograph. It was dark and he looked very tired. I simply didn’t want to bother him.)



Just past the intersection of Venice and Sepulveda, going west, on the north side of Venice Boulevard was an enormous cabbage/lettuce farm that extended north from Venice and ended at a mysterious little creek running parallel to Venice. (Now a cement drainage channel.) A block or so west, the creek made a sharp turn north and proceeded through the middle of the (long gone) Westward Ho Golf Course. .I hunted for crawfish on the lower portion of the creek, and searched for golf balls on the portion that ran through Westward Ho.





When I entered Hamilton High School my area of exploration expanded. Westwood held special memories. Once a year U.C.L.A. held a parade right through the heart of Westwood. It was (as I recall) a mostly student driven event: loads of fun. Westwood had two other things that made it special. One was a famous coffee shop, named Crumplers and the other was a barber shop called ‘The Blue and Gold’ which was located on Le Conte Avenue, just a block west of Westwood Boulevard. (Just outside the ‘gates’ of U.C.L.A.)



Crumpler’s fame came from an extraordinary milkshake they served. People would come (regularly) from miles and miles around to drink one of these delicious shakes. The ‘Blue and Gold’s city-wide reputation came from one man. We only knew him by his first name—Vern.



’Butch’ haircuts were extremely popular in the fifties and Vern was THE man to cut your hair. Only Vern could cut it perfectly. The Blue and Gold had at least 4 other barbers but young men (myself included) would wait hours for Vern. He became so popular that he soon was charging more than the other barbers,



To emphasize the radical cultural changes that have occurred over the past seventy years, I mentioned that once I entered Hamilton High School I began expanding my neighborhoods. First Westwood and then Hollywood.



In the forties Hollywood was (for those of us in west L.A.) THE place to go. All the first class movie theaters were there. It was our ‘downtown.’ It’s where we took our high school dates on a Friday night. (I once walked a date all the way to Culver City after a show, when a ride never showed up. (Approximately 8 miles.) It was an incredible experience. We hugged, kissed and talked endlessly all the way home.) The sub-text of that walk was that we could safely do it and that we walked more in those days.) The other part of the Hollywood story was (amazingly).every New Years Eve throngs of people would come from all over and at Midnight would stroll out in the middle of Hollywood Boulevard to celebrate the occasion. It was visited by people from all

over the city and was a joyous event. The sense of ‘community’, of ‘sharing’, was very strong.



Yes, culturally and physically, West Los Angeles has changed a great deal in seventy years. I understand and respect the West Los Angeles of today, but in my heart, I miss and profoundly love the West Los Angeles of seventy years past.



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