Metro Series - Union Station

Staring out the window of the Orange line watching the vaguely familiar buildings pass by as it makes its way toward North Hollywood I feel something that I haven’t felt in a long time, if ever, in Los Angeles. I feel like a tourist. For perhaps the first time in the thirteen years that I have called Los Angeles home, I feel like a visitor to the city and I kind of like it. I’ve often wondered how I would plan for a visit to LA, how I would overcome the sheer size of the city knowing that even as a long time resident I’m still somewhat intimidated by the Herculean task of navigating around the city, especially in rush “hour” when the traffic maps are all but devoid of green and the quickest route is not necessarily the most direct one. Shortly after I start to ponder this question I usually thank the heavens that I don’t have to plan a trip here and go about my business. But why not? Why not attack Los Angeles like I would New York, London, or Tokyo? Why not start thinking of the city in terms of where the subway will take me? Sure the rail lines are far from comprehensive and to get anywhere you basically have to route through downtown, but the same thing that limits the Metro – the massive sprawl of the city – should also work to its advantage. With size comes diversity and there must be something interesting to see at every stop.

From North Hollywood I grab the Red line for the 30 minute trip to Union Station, the center of rail transport in Los Angeles and the last of the great American railway stations. Opened in 1939, its combination of Spanish Colonial and Art Deco styles are likely recognizable to many who have never walked through its doors, having served as a backdrop for many films and television shows through the years – the most memorable to me being its role as the police station in Blade Runner.

An iconic fixture of Los Angeles, its designers were also responsible for several other notable and instantly recognizable LA landmarks, City Hall and the LA Memorial Coliseum among them. Deserving of its place on the National Register of Historic Buildings, the station itself is worth a visit and I have to pause to take a couple of shots, though this is not what brought me down here today.

Out the front doors of Union Station and directly across Alameda stands the reason for my trip – El Pueblo de Los Angeles Historical Monument. I have passed through here several times before, but usually only on my way to Chinatown, which is a short walk from the station, and a trip for another day. Until today I had never ventured here for the sake of seeing what the monument had to offer nor, to be honest, even realized that the area was an historical monument. On September 4, 1781 near the site of the present day plaza, eleven families of various cultural backgrounds settled the first non-native civilian settlement in southern California. This is where Los Angeles began. 44 people recruited by Spain from northern Mexico laid roots in a town whose original borders spread from present day Hoover Street to Indiana Street and began what would become the second largest city in the United States. Standing here in the midst of this city of 3.8 million people covering 498 square miles, it is next to impossible to imagine that starting with only 44 people. With the massive sprawl that has consumed the area, it is mind boggling to think of being able to stand on one edge of the city and being able to see the other side. The names of each one of those 44 inhabitants are now commemorated together on a large plaque within the plaza as well as on individual family plaques, which circle the outer ring of the plaza.

Walking around, reading each name, one wonders how many families have remained in the area over the ensuing 220 years, how many people in Los Angeles today can trace their ancestry back to those first eleven families.

Reaching out from the plaza to the northeast is Olvera Street and likely what draws the most people to the area. While the history of the street stretches back to 1877 when a short lane known as Wine Street was extended and renamed in honor of a prominent judge, the street in its current incarnation came to be in 1930 when through the efforts of Christine Sterling it was blocked off to traffic and transformed into a tourist destination meant to evoke a Mexican marketplace. Walking through this short street today – really no more than an alley – one is hit with a sensory overload.

Crammed to the gills with shops and stalls selling everything from colorful handcrafted Mexican goods to inexpensive lucha libre masks and ukuleles, the smell of the copious amount of leather goods envelopes the visitor as they enter. Adding to the bouquet, restaurants are littered throughout the alley offering “traditional” Mexican cuisine (although LA is not hurting for spots where one can find more authentic Mexican food). On weekends strolling musicians and music from the plaza add another layer to the sensory tapestry. Today traditional Native American instruments provide a soundtrack that sounds tip of the tongue familiar. Pondering the song I realize that what I’m hearing is Chiquitita by ABBA, a somehow fitting representation of modern Los Angeles – indigenous instruments playing a song with a vaguely Spanish title, written by northern Europeans.

Roughly one third of the way down Olvera lays the Avila Adobe, the oldest extant residence in Los Angeles. Originally built in 1818 by the Avila family who were affluent ranchers in the area, the home passed through many hands in the ensuing years, gradually falling into disrepair. By 1928 the Adobe had been condemned by the city and was on the verge of being demolished. Christine Sterling championed for the home to be saved and restored and it was in fact the Avila Adobe restoration that prompted the creation of modern Olvera Street, as she understood that without the surrounding area being revitalized, restoration of the adobe would merely postpone the inevitable. It now stands as an historical recreation, “furnished as it might have been during the days when the Avilas were there.”

I am particularly fond of these recreations, which often take me back to the road trips of my youth as the family explored the Southwest, but found this one to fairly basic and in some places rather stark. While it was an interesting walkthrough, there was little there that kept me truly enthralled and several of their interpretive signs had so much wear that they couldn’t be read. Housed within the grounds of the adobe are two other exhibits – Water in Los Angeles, which traces the development of the Los Angeles water supply, and A Tribute to Christine Sterling – though neither exhibit was accessible on the day I was there. There is also a short interpretive film detailing the history of the area that is played periodically through the day. Though lacking great depth, it is an interesting diversion and hard to argue with the historical interest of the oldest house in Los Angeles. While admission is free, donations are gladly accepted and would no doubt help to restore the wear and tear the site has received.

Northwest of the Plaza, across Main Street, is La Iglesia de Nuestra Señora la Reina de Los Angeles, or Our Lady of Angels Church, a mission style church that holds the distinction of being the oldest church in the city (I may be noticing a pattern here). On this spot in 1784 a sub-mission was built to serve the religious needs of the Pueblo but was eventually abandoned as the Pueblo grew in size. A new church was built on the site between 1814 and 1822 and once again rebuilt in 1861. It is this church which stands today, now serving as the parish church for the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Los Angeles. Not a mission itself, the church does share some characteristics of the California Missions – the solid buttressed walls, the broad undecorated wall surfaces, the bell wall, and the fountain patio – which in this case resides in a courtyard which also houses food vendors, only one of which was active when I was there. Stepping inside I am hit with the unmistakable scent of the church candles as dozens of sense memories instantly take me back to any number of churches and cathedrals I’ve visited in the past. The smell of burning wax and I am in St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin. Smoke from an extinguished wick whisks me the mission churches in New Mexico. The underlying mask of incense and I’m at Christmas mass as a child. It’s been a long time since I’ve been a regular churchgoer but all those moments are pulled together here and I am moved to a moment of quiet introspection. Removing my hat I take a seat in one of the pews and reflect on not just this space but life in general, amazed at how quiet a church can be. I can hear little more than the shuffling of feet and the near silent murmurs of the devoted though hardly removed from the hustle and bustle of the city.

I gradually return my attention to the church itself. It is a modest sanctuary, active and functional. I think its appeal is more for the history of the location than the church itself. A map of the monument shows that the city’s first cemetery, Campo Santo, once stood next to the church. All that can be found there now is a large construction zone – the future home of a Mexican-American cultural center.

Continuing around, LA’s first firehouse stands southwest of the plaza. Completed in 1884 the Plaza Firehouse’s tenure as such was brief, ending in 1892 after which it was used as a saloon, a lodging house, and a store. Restored to its firehouse state in 1960 it became a small museum showcasing the history of firefighting in Los Angeles and housing firefighting memorabilia dating back to the 19th century. While interesting to see some of the old equipment, I ultimately found the museum to be a fairly quick walkthrough and probably spent no more than 10 minutes there, though it undoubtedly holds greater interest for those whose passion lies in the history of firefighting. The one thing that I did learn was that the aptly named Chief Walter Lips was the first Los Angeles fire chief to proudly display his lips - being clean shaven while all six of his predecessors were bearded or mustached. I’m sure the museum would be glad to know I picked up on this.

Having been steeped in the Hispanic heritage of the monument to this point, it was interesting to find that perhaps the most engaging attraction for me was the Chinese-American Museum on North Los Angeles Street - although the entrance lies in the rear of the building. Seemingly out of place, the area around the monument was actually the original Chinatown before Union Station displaced it in 1939. The rest of Chinatown having been razed, the Garnier building, which houses the museum, is the only surviving structure from this original incarnation. Opened in 2003, the museum tells the story of Chinese-American life and the difficulty of making their way to and in a new country. A large portion of the current exhibit deals with their passage through Angel Island in San Francisco (the west coast version of Ellis Island) and the paper sons and daughters – the practice of established immigrants claiming unrelated children as their own in order to help them immigrate during a period of severe anti-Chinese laws. A compelling story of their journey is told through the use of historical artifacts and accounts from the surviving ancestors of those early immigrants. The upper levels of the museum offer temporary exhibit space, which when I was there was an exhibit titled Dreams Deferred – Artists Respond to Immigration Reform, artistic representations of the current state of immigration. I spent a good deal of time walking through the museum, which piqued my curiosity and made me want to learn more. There are some activities for children as well, though it seemed far from a comprehensive children’s experience. Definitely worth the three-dollar suggested donation and I look forward to future exhibits.

There are other historical buildings dotting the area around the plaza – the Merced Theatre, the Pico House, and the Sepulveda House to name a few – all of which have interpretive signs and plaques placed along the sidewalks and the buildings themselves to help paint a picture of the early days around the plaza. I believe that there is normally a Visitor Center in the Sepulveda house but it appeared to be closed for construction with signs warning of no floor. There also seem to be plans to convert the Italian Hall, which is located at the corner of Main and Cesar Chavez, into the Italian Hall museum. But the places I have visited today are the main locations that you can interact with and as such bring my day of tourism to an end with the thrill of discovery of this city I call home awakened. I look forward to further exploration, to seeing the city like I would if I were but a brief visitor, to soaking up Los Angeles both on and off the beaten track…as long as the Metro will take me there.

Click on photos for larger views.

For more photos, visit my flickr page…

For more information on the LA Conservancy walking tours,
visit their website…

For more information on the buildings found in El Pueblo,
visit the Olvera Street website…