1968
Power corrupts the corruptable [sic].
OCTAVIA E. BUTLER
JANUARY 13
1847
We continued our march, and encamped near a deserted rancho at the foot of Couenga [Cahuenga] plain. Soon after we halted, the Californian peace-commissioners appeared, and the terms of peace and capitulation were finally agreed upon and signed by the respective parties….
The next morning a brass howitzer was brought into camp, and delivered. What other arms were given up I cannot say, for I saw none. Nor can I speak as to the number of Californians who were in the field under the command of Andres Pico when the articles of capitulation were signed, for they were never in sight of us after we reached San Fernando. Distance 12 miles.
EDWIN BRYANT
1958
The glory that was old Siam will soon vanish from the hills of West Los Angeles.
Medieval castles will tumble and antique oriental temples will fall.
Mansions and gardens will be ravaged like Atlantis.
Whole communities will perish without a trace.
Lakes and rivers will dry up and jungles will be swept away.
The instruments of this doomsday will be neither war, famine, death nor pestilence.
It will be wrought by the bulldozer and the ax.
It will be the end of a make-believe world—the 176-acre, false-front world of film sets on the famed 20th-Century-Fox lot.
Its doom was sounded last week by the studio’s announcement that this portion of the 284-acre lot will be razed and cleared to make way for a $400 million complex of steel and concrete towers to be known as Century City.
JACK SMITH
1993
OK, so we were called into the [Menendez trial] courtroom one last time—it was standing room only—and the judge thanked us for our service and declared it a mistrial. It was all really kind of sad.
HAZEL THORNTON
JANUARY 14
1847
Drenched with rain and plastered with mud, we entered the “City of the Angels,” and marched through its principal street to our temporary quarters. We found the town, as we expected, in the possession of the United States naval and military forces under the command of Commodore Stockton and General Kearny, who, after two engagements with six hundred mounted Californians on the 8th and 9th, had marched into the city on the 10th. The town was almost entirely deserted by its inhabitants.
EDWIN BRYANT
1949
[Talent agent Herman] Citron arrived with Montgomery Clift, with whom we discussed the story, selling him the idea at last, or so we think. As he left Billy [Wilder] said, “He might be any pimply messenger boy on the lot” and so he might.
CHARLES BRACKETT
JANUARY 15
1770
We set out with a guide from this village and traveled until we came to another small one in about a league and a half. From there we took another guide who led us in a northeasterly direction. A little farther on he turned east. We climbed a long and steep hill, from whose summit we made out the valley of Santa Catalina [San Fernando]. We descended to it, and, traveling to the southeast, arrived, late, at [Encino], where we camped on the 7th of August. The march covered six and a half leagues.
FRAY JUAN CRESPI
1971
This morning the sheets are twisted and the pillows lie on the floor. Perhaps I shall get up and drive over the mountains to find myself sitting in a field of clover.
LIZA WILLIAMS
JANUARY 16
1770
We now proceeded with a better knowledge of the country and, knowing where we were going, we discussed the direction we had to follow with greater certainty; besides this, the mountains furnished us points and determined places which served as landmarks to ascertain our position.
MIGUEL COSTANSÓ
1954
[The British actress] Gracie Fields seems to feel about Los Angeles very much as I do: that it has become a grotesque and impossible place for a human being to live in.
RAYMOND CHANDLER, to his publisher
1982
E. and I went into town. (such a funny perspective being in the Valley—anyways—today was the first time I went “over the hill”)….
I think this time in L.A. I can finally get past all of the shit from my past and just accept L.A. for what it is.
You can’t expect any more from this town. And there are advantages. In short, I finally do fully understand the reasoning and motivation behind moving to L.A….
I have good ideas (take a gas station and rehab it into a café/gallery. Who knows?).
AARON PALEY
JANUARY 17
1769
We set out from the place in the morning, and as soon as we entered the plain we saw a bare chain of mountains covered with snow, which we descried on entering the valley of Santa Clara; from the hills we also saw the Porciúncula River. We crossed the plain in a southeasterly direction, arrived at the river, and forded it, observing on its sands rubbish, fallen trees, and pools on either side, for a few days previously there had been a great flood which had caused it to leave its bed.
FRAY JUAN CRESPI
1876
At daylight we stopped in San Fernando cañon for breakfast, and of all the meals in California, for meanness, that was the champion. The mutton—they don’t eat much else—was so tough that it was beyond the powers of human grinders to masticate it. I gave it up.
D. L. PHILLIPS
1882
I hear the San Juan paper is out—but my Atlantic has not arrived—& if you will believe it, I can’t buy one in this place….
Whoever will come & and live a year on this coast, can make a book of romance which will live: It is a tropic of color and song. It is real pain to have to skim over it flying, as I do. —
HELEN HUNT JACKSON, to her editor
1960
I am, of course, the Robert Rich who wrote the original story and screenplay of a simple—if not simple-minded—little film called The Brave One, for which young Rich was awarded an Oscar. He hasn’t got it yet, and neither have I. However, it’s just as well, for although those statues look like gold, I’m told they’re nothing but pot-metal inside….
[T]he only woman I ever married is still at my side. She brings in extra money as a photographer, so we eat well and love each other rather more than we did on that day twenty-two years ago when each confronted the other, with justifiable suspicion.
DALTON TRUMBO, to an editor
JANUARY 18
1847
We left the Puebla this morning….Our hearts were heavy and forebodings of misfortune not wanting….
It is nothing but my sense of duty as an officer that compels me to take the trip—A great majority of the men have as good as no shoes—some none at all—already they begin to complain of sore feet—a falling house it is said, will be deserted by the rats—so with us—Some of the servants refused to accompany the officers—upon whom they had been in attendance. Commodore Stockton said that he did not consider that peace was made with these people until they complyed with the terms of their treaty—that they had rendered up their arms. This they have not done—nor do they evince any disposition so far as I have heard—of doing so. They do not carry themselves as a people conquered or even overpowered—On the contrary they boast of having compelled us to make terms, and there is not an American who had been resident in the country but expects another revolution.
DR. JOHN S. GRIFFIN
1935
There was a little open space the other day: I was walking and thinking of you in Ojai, and open space of country, and suddenly I knew what wildness was. I hissed and grunted and found myself expanding with a big heart ’til for a moment I was out of my mind and only tremendously alive.<
br />
I did not know you were wildly intoxicating. And now I have only very present memories. Life has been short, has only begun. And I can see in the corner your eyes, never turned away. And your hair is some kind of a promise, I don’t know of what, perhaps that it will reach your shoulders and that I may bury myself in it.
Perhaps I am satisfied that you, who I know are a fragment, you are entirely another’s. And yet, these days you are always with me.
It is late and I am tired and I love you and want to be with you.
I am sure there is something unexplainably and mysteriously sacred about the Valley, something including evil.
JOHN CAGE, to Pauline Schindler
1939
We are getting more and more murals in our public buildings. Now if we can just increase the proportion of morals to keep up with the murals everything will be grand.
LEE SHIPPEY
JANUARY 19
1856
And it further appearing by satisfactory proof to the judge here, that all of the said persons of color are entitled to their freedom, and are free and cannot be held in slavery or involuntary servitude, it is therefore argued that they are entitled to their freedom and are free forever….
Given under my hand as judge of the First Judicial District Court of the State of California, on the 19th day of January, A.D. 1856, at the City of Los Angeles.
JUDGE BENJAMIN HAYES
1858
I walked through a beautiful garden & vineyard this afternoon. In the garden orange & lemon trees hung full of fruit. Fine cabbage, peas in bloom & many other vegetables. Pinks & flowers were to be seen on every side. The day warm and pleasant. Fig trees. This man can truly say that he can sit under his own vine & fig tree.
JAMES GILLESPIE HAMILTON
1971
Your review filled me with joy, as your earlier letter did. I have been able to encourage other writers, but never until now have the tables been turned so blessedly on me. To you I can confess that I left the academic world to write popular fiction in the hope of coming back by underground tunnels and devious ways into the light again, dripping with darkness. You encourage me to think that there was some strange merit in this romantic plan.
ROSS MACDONALD, to Eudora Welty
JANUARY 20
1868
My Dear Mary: —By my drinking to excess, and gambling also, I have involved myself to the amount of about three thousand dollars which I have borrowed from time to time from friends and acquaintances [under] the promise to return the same the following day, which I have often failed to do. To such [an extent] have I gone in this way that I am now ashamed to meet my fellow man on the street; besides that, I have deeply wronged you as a husband, by spending my money instead of maintaining you as it becomes a husband to do. Though you have [never] complained of my miserable conduct, you nevertheless have suffered too much. I therefore, to save you from farther disgrace and trouble, being that I cannot maintain you respectably, I shall end this state of thing this very morning….
If I write these few lines, it is to set you [right] before this wicked world, to keep slander from blaming you in [any] manner whatever. Now, my dear beloved, I hope that you will pardon me….It is time to part, God bless you, and may you be happy yet, your husband Damien Marchesseault.
MAYOR DAMIEN MARCHESSEAULT, in his suicide note
1880
Respected Mr. & Mrs. Cohn,
On this day of so much joy for you and your family, allow us to join our humble congratulations and sincere wishes to those of your many friends on the occasion of the marriage of your dear child and [the] good young man whom providence has destined for her. May the God of Abraham, of Isaac and Jacob bless their union and be with them.
May she be amiable to her husband as Rachel, wise as Rebecca, long lived and fruitful as Sarah. May both, to your joy, see their children’s children unto the third and fourth generation, filled with all the blessings which we invoke upon them, as well as upon you.
BISHOP FRANCIS MORA
1938
Oh, Joe, can’t producers be wrong? I’m a good writer—honest.
F. SCOTT FITZGERALD, to a director
1940
It is as if you tipped the United States up so all the commonplace people slid down here into Southern California.
FRANK LLOYD WRIGHT
2018
“Girls just wanna have fun-damental human rights,” “I’ve seen better cabinets at Ikea,” “We are girlcotting this presidency,” and “Donald Trump uses [reviled Microsoft Word font] Comic Sans” were a few of my favorite posters at the women’s march in downtown LA. Everyone was fired up, empowered, and sick of Donald Trump’s s**t. The rally was full of positive energy and support for women of all races, religions, sexualities, classes, and origins. The speakers discussed political and social rights, and there was live music! After, my friend and I walked through downtown to buy plants. I bought a little air plant in a glass container. As an environmental science major, I should really be better at not killing plants, but honestly I always forget to water them. My little air plant, that I named Sheldon, only needs to be watered once every two weeks though, so I should be able to keep the little guy alive for awhile. Plus, everytime I water him I’ll remember the women’s march. This country definitely isn’t perfect, but there are a lot of great people here that I trust to keep the country growing.
JULIA CAMPBELL
JANUARY 21
1861
That portion of our party which went to the Lighthouse had the good fortune to see the shot from a boat…and the chase, first up, then down the coast. In their excitement, they thought the run was four miles. Capt. C, who was the lucky shot, says not more than three-fourths of a mile, when the flurry ended in death; he brought in the whale that same night. Often, however, it sinks and does not rise….
Both these companies employ chiefly Indian hands, at $15 per month. The work is measurably light, and the Indians well content with this pay, better than they can get at any other kind of employment.
Capt. Packard considers that he has done well, but thinks the large number of ships that will come here next season on hearing of the success of his venture will seriously interfere with the proceeds of those who operate on land and will soon destroy the whales.
JUDGE BENJAMIN HAYES
1939
It rained glorious rain all day.
RAY BRADBURY
1957
I woke a little late and reread Orson’s rewrite of Touch of Evil. It now lacks only good dialogue to make it a really meritable script. The makeup test was a great success. Bud Westmore made me look so acceptably Mexican they’re cutting the covering lines about my not being. Orson thinks a moustache is in order; if I start today I can just make it. We also had a Mexican tailor begin work on a suit, which will help.
CHARLTON HESTON
1982
We saw a meteor falling to Earth.
It was close to the surface. A few hundred yards—no more. A bright wide vertical swath of white light.
I stood on top of the mountain at Beverly Glen. I could see the snow on the San Gabriel mountains, the mountains of Simi Valley, Catalina Island and Palos Verdes. It was a stunning spectacle—as high as possible—the city stretching around me—reaching upwards.
AARON PALEY
2006
I had a book talk and signing Thursday evening at the Los Feliz library, so I departed lovely Mar Vista early to beat the crush. To be more precise, I pulled out of the Starbucks at Barrington and National, fortified with caffeine for the Santa Monica Freeway, right about 4:30. Ten minutes into the trip, my editor at Los Angeles Magazine called. She had just left Wilshire and Ogden, headed for Altadena via surface streets. We chatted about gossip, did some serious work and compared traffic notes. Mine was flowing smooth and e
asy, so I decided to keep it simple and barrel straight up Vermont. With luck I’d get an hour at Fred 62 to collect my thoughts.
Her drive was a grind, hammered by buses and short lights. We had time to discuss a story and dissect the day’s headlines. I’m not sure when we realized what might be coming. In retrospect, perhaps we should have given it the reverence you afford a perfect game in baseball and let the feat go unmentioned until it was official. But we didn’t. She began to call off the street names. Catalina slipped past. “Can you see El Pollo Loco?”
I could. As I rolled north on Vermont, she idled three cars back from the red light on eastbound Olympic. “Oh look,” she reported. “There’s a bicycle behind you.”
Two Angelenos passing in the sprawl, our paths intersecting in time and space and the ether of cell phone technology.
KEVIN RODERICK
Dear Los Angeles Page 3