Dateline>City of Angels

There’s a certain historical irony in this month’s return of Cirque Berzerk (left) to the Los Angeles State Historic Park with a schedule of weekend performances. Over a century ago, L.A.’s City Fathers faced quite a conundrum over how to prevent such big-top hijinks from disturbing the Sunday peace.

Reporting on City Hall’s daily antics, the May 20, 1896, Los Angeles Times noted that:

“After instructing the City Clerk to issue no license for a Sunday circus, the City Councilmen yesterday awoke to the fact that it would make small difference to the circus people…”

Much to the council’s dismay, overnight research into the law revealed that any clown tendering money for a Sunday exhibitor’s license had to be granted one, regardless of the type of event. With a troupe of performers practically at City Hall’s doorstep threatening a street procession and death-defying fetes for the upcoming weekend, quick thinking was required.

“It was finally decided that the only method which could be taken to block the circus people in their plans for a Sunday exhibition and parade, would be to call a special session of the Council and adopt an ordinance making it a misdemeanor for any circus to exhibit or parade on Sunday in this city…”

Which the ever-wise council hurriedly did on Thursday, May 21, 1896.

If Sunday performances had the councilmen’s drawers in a wad back then, imagine how they would’ve flipped their collective wigs over a freakish show like Cirque Berzerk pitching its tent in their train yard.

Source:
“At City Hall: Bolting the Bars”
Los Angeles Times
May 20, 1896

Whenever there’s a lull here at the ol’ blog, you can bet I’m pouring all my energy into some paid writing gig.

One of the great things about being a writer is the opportunity to learn all sorts of interesting stuff about a variety of subjects and then share those discoveries with readers.

Take for instance radio-controlled (RC) cars, one of two story topics I completed this week for Off-Road Industry Magazine. Like me, you’ve probably seen hobbyists buzzing them around beaches, parks and empty parking lots on any given weekend. And like me you’ve probably mused “what interesting toys” and then quickly moved on to whatever it was you were doing without a second thought.

But as I soon learned in researching my article, these aren’t toys at all. They’re serious business for the companies that make them and the enthusiasts who buy them.

Every Bit Real

In fact, these little electric and nitro-powered racers are every bit as sophisticated as their fullsize car and truck counterparts. Vehicle models are researched, engineered, prototyped and even dyno-tested just like the real thing. Many can reach speeds well over 40 mph, and their mechanicals can boast everything from liquid-filled shocks to four-link suspensions to reinforced chassis with options of two- and four-wheel drive. Moreover, as with their fullscale cousins, an entire service and parts aftermarket has grown up around them, with major automotive brands throwing big money into replica licensing.

Competition is fierce at all levels of this estimated $1 billion industry — not only among the carmakers (several of which you’ll find here in Southern California) but the hobbyists themselves. There are organized racing teams, national and world-wide sanctioning bodies and purses that full-size motorsports competitors would envy. Currently industry players say the fastest growing RC vehicle segment is off-roading: desert-racers, buggies and, most of all, rock crawlers.

Who knew?

My full report is slated to appear in the upcoming summer issue of ORI Magazine, published by the Ryan Communications Group.

Now an office building, Sunset Blvd.’s Crossroads of the World opened in 1936 as L.A.’s first themed shopping mall. (Many believe it’s America’s first such mall as well.)

The shipshape design was the brainchild of Robert V. Derrah, well known for his Streamline Moderne Coca Cola building on Central.

Here at the Crossroads, a twirling globe crowns a mast-like spire. Inside the gates, a European village surrounds the ocean cruiser at the heart of the complex.

Meanwhile, the bell tower in the background belongs to Hollywood’s Church of the Blessed Sacrament, built in 1928 on the parish site occupied by the Jesuit Order since 1904.

Well, do you? (Not that it’s a bad thing, especially if you are a woman.)

More importantly, which great writer do you emulate? Jane Austen? Homer? H.G. Wells?

Thanks to computer nerds with way too much time on their hands, the answers to these questions are just a few mouse clicks away.

Enter your blog URL (or any other) into the data cruncher at GenderAnalyzer.com, and it will quickly guess the author’s sex. Dateline>City of Angels garnered a 64% masculinity quotient, which your humble blogger is perfectly comfortable with since he’s not afraid to show his feminine side every now and then.

Even more interesting is oFaust.com, which compares your prose to 71 classic masterpieces by 21 famous authors to determine whose it most resembles. Here Dateline>City of Angels got a 17% match with Mark Twain (pictured.)

Incredible. As a junior in high school, my favorite class was “Laughter in Literature,” an elective dealing with American satire. Clemens was by far my best-loved humorist, probably due to his cynical streak. Course assignments included crafting our own parodies, and our teacher Ms. Rosencranz often remarked on how much my style echoed Twain’s.

I guess we writers really do retain all that stuff we learn in high school English.

Ms. Rosencranz would be so proud.

Don’t you just hate when someone decides to redecorate your neighborhood streets with their tired, worn-out furnishings? (All the more so when they take up precious parking space…)

For all Citibank’s Silver Lake customers know, their branch safeguards a mythic lost treasure.

But it’s not in the bank’s vault — at least not the one where the loot is kept.

That’s because the treasure in question isn’t gold or currency, but rather Old Blue, faithful steed of cowboy movie legend Tom Mix. And according to one very knowledgeable longtime staffer, there’s every reason to believe that the horse’s grave lies beneath the bank’s parking lot at Silver Lake and Glendale.

“The place used to be a market, and from what I understand, they built it on top of the graveyard,” says the source who worked at the bank in the early 1980s when it was a Glendale Federal branch. Speaking on condition of anonymity, the once highly placed employee admits to personally assisting GlenFed’s CEO at the time in his research into the legend.

“He had a lot of interest in [Old Blue] because he wanted to dig him up, put him together, and [display] him inside the bank. He got obsessed with it,” reveals the source.

Like many Silver Lake oldtimers, the bank insider is certain Old Blue still rests undisturbed somewhere in the vicinity of the outdoor ATMs. After all, despite his best efforts, the GlenFed official never succeeded in unearthing the animal, nor is there evidence of any prior construction projects having done so either. Plus, the historical record leaves little doubt that Old Blue was buried there.

Early Western Hero

During the Silent Film Era, Mix (left) popularized the Western movie genre, originating the matinee cowboy concept with his fancy saddle, fashionable duds and thirst for daring action. His film career ran from 1910 to 1935, encompassing more than 350 flicks that blazed the way for later stars like William S. Hart, Gene Autry and John Wayne.

But a cowboy’s just no danged good without a horse, and for more than 80 of Mix’s earliest films, Old Blue played lead steed, achieving animal stardom at a time when Rin Tin Tin was still just the runt of some litter.

Throughout those years, L.A.’s emerging film industry was centered in the Echo Park/Silver Lake area, then known as Edendale. Mix first debuted with the famous Selig Polyscope Co., but by 1917 the studio was floundering. Hitting the dusty trail for Fox, he soon found himself making $17,500 a week, allowing him to build a large Western-themed lot called Mixville. Incorporating the present-day intersection of Glendale and Silver Lake Blvds., Mixville boasted several acres of corrals, an Old West town and Indian village, and plenty of tumbleweed landscapes.

In fact, area residents still occasionally find horseshoes and other buried artifacts related to the lot today. Of course, with a little more digging, they also might find Mix’s trusty sidekick…

Mix reluctantly retired Old Blue in 1914, turning to a new mount named Tony. Unfortunately, Old Blue suffered a broken leg in his corral, forcing Mix to put him down in 1919. By all accounts, the cowboy actor was grief-stricken. He buried Old Blue in a prominent section of the lot marked by a large wooden pillar and post beam.

Mix eventually made the incredibly intelligent Tony his famous Wonder Horse. But each Memorial Day, the cowboy star continued to hang a wreath at Old Blue’s gravesite.

Animal Spirits?

For decades, Silver Lake residents have circulated rumors that other burials took place there as well. While unconfirmed, these stories may account for the disembodied sounds and footsteps reported off and on by bank employees.

“The building has a lot of really weird noises, and it’s said to be haunted,” confirms our insider. “I was there so long I got used to it.”

Oddly, none of the phenomenon seems associated with Old Blue, but rather an unknown woman that the bank’s staff came to dub The Crying Lady. Her heavy sobs are said to emanate from the walls of an empty storeroom after dark, although recently she’s apparently twice accosted a visiting Citibank corporate officer during daylight hours — once just before a staff meeting and once while he was sitting alone in the lunch room.

“I’m sitting there enjoying my salad and I start hearing weeping. I’m sure you’re back there,” the visitor reportedly told a senior employee after the second incident. He was convinced the staff was toying with him.

But workers assured him it was no prank: “That Crying Lady loved him,” the source says with a smile.

. . .

Blogger’s Note: Dateline>City of Angels does not normally run unattributed quotes for pieces like the above. In fact, this article’s first draft carried the source’s full name and permission for publication. Unfortunately, that draft got filed away for a period, during which time Silver Lake Citibank branch management changed. Due to this, the source has since requested anonymity. Because I consider this source absolutely reliable, I have honored that request. — MI

For your weekend enjoyment: An excerpt from the PBS program Things That Aren’t Here Anymore, narrated by Ralph Story, a guy who (sadly) isn’t here anymore.

Beverly Park operated at the current site of the Beverly Center from 1945-1974. Having never been there as a kid, your humble blogger lacks any personal recollections of it. However, he does recall the family gathering in front of the ol’ black-and-white TV to watch Ralph Story’s Los Angeles, which aired weekly from 1964-1970 on KNXT. (That’s KCBS-2 for all you hipster and transplant whippersnappers.)

Story’s program was a mix of Southland history, culture and folksy storytelling, making it “the highest-rated and most fondly remembered local series in Los Angeles television history,” according to the UCLA Film and Television Archive.

Story passed away from emphysema in 2006 at age 86. He is still very much missed.

Thanks to the region’s famous mediterranean climate, Southern California boasts one of the richest mixes of native and exotic plant life found anywhere in the world. But here’s a thorny pop-cultural question for you…

What does the Bird of Paradise pictured here have in common with the rose, camellia and California Golden Poppy?

One little hint: We’re not looking for a natural characteristic shared by the three species, but rather a man-made designation. Think you know the answer? To see if you’re right, click the continuation link. [READ MORE...]

Los Angeles is known throughout the world as the City of Angels, a fact reflected in this blog’s title. But as your humble blogger has pointed out before, the city’s founders didn’t really name their pueblo for the angels, but for the Virgin Mary (aka, Our Lady of the Angels).

As a reminder of this oft-forgotten bit of trivia, Dateline>City of Angels is proud to introduce That’s Our Lady — a new, occasional feature focusing a lens on various religious and secular depictions of OLA throughout our region.

And what better place to start than the Roman Catholic Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels, located downtown at Temple and Grand?

In crafting this statue to adorn the cathedral’s great bronze doors, the artist deliberately combined diverse characteristics mirroring every race and culture. The result is a Mary that transcends ethnicity — a Madonna for all Angelenos.

Not to get all religious on this blog’s readership or anything, but the statue obviously conveys deep spiritual meaning as well. In ancient Christian tradition, the Messiah will return from the east. Here Mary faces that direction to bask in the first rays of dawn. As the sun sets, her halo imparts a glow reminiscent of another Marian title: Evening Star.

To learn more about this statue, click on the Art navigation button at the cathedral’s official Website.

“Our town worships success, the bitch goddess whose smile hides a taste for blood.”

– Hedda Hopper (1890-1966).

The famed Los Angeles Times gossip columnist knew of what she spoke. The Perez Hilton of her day (albeit with a lot more class and clout), Hopper fomented a ruthless rivalry with Hearst newspaper columnist Louella Parsons beginning in the late 1930s.

By the late 1940s, the former B-movie actress was the undisputed “Queen of Hollywood” and Filmdom’s most powerful rumormonger. Mingling with the industry elite, she preened about in extravagant hats, all the while building a fearsome reputation for making and breaking celebrity careers.

Pictured: Detail of a monument at the corner of Hollywood and La Brea depicting leading ladies Mae West, Dolores Del Rio, Anna May Wong and Dorothy Dandrige as four pillars of Classic Hollywood. Readers are free to guess the identity of the particular movie goddess seen here.

If you’re a faithful reader of this blog, you’ve already met Antonio Coronel, 19th century L.A. mayor and leading citizen extraordinaire. Now it’s time to meet his widow Mariana, courtesy a news item carried by the Los Angeles Times 110 years ago this month.

Entitled The Coronel Mansion, the May 2, 1899, piece reports the  courtroom drama stirred up by Doña Mariana Coronel (nee Williamson) who, after a “brief widowhood” following Antonio’s death, married Dr. C. Edgar Smith. The article reveals how Dr. Smith immediately “made himself at home with his new wife in the Coronel mansion” only to find that “the spacious house would not hold them both after they began to quarrel.”

Ahhh, but things get even juicier…

“Señora Smith went on an extended journey to Mexico, leaving her spouse to enjoy himself as best he could in the big mansion at Seventh street and Central avenue. The doctor is alleged to have had a more or less merry time while his wife was away.”

Understandably miffed upon her return, Mariana tried to eject the good doctor from the house, but a legal obstacle stood in her way: She’d already deeded the mansion to Smith to elude ongoing litigation surrounding her former hubby’s estate.

With Smith refusing to budge, the clever Mariana embarked on a new strategy. First she leased the house to ex-Under Sheriff H.S. Clement, who promptly took up residence in the home and dislodged the doctor himself. Then she filed both for divorce and repossession of the property. Testifying in court in early May 1899, she shored her case up with what the Times describes as “tense” and “highly sensational” accounts of her new husband’s dalliances with female patients.

But Mariana Williamson Coronel de Smith wasn’t to have the last word in the matter. Stung by the assaults on his character, Dr. Smith apparently asked the court’s indulgence while he embarked on his own Mexican excursion to get the dish on Mariana’s recent escapades there. Meanwhile, the Times article milked the lull in the proceedings for all it was worth, promising:

“His answer in the suit now pending is expected to be as sensational, in many respects, as his wife’s charges.”

Source:
“The Coronel Mansion”
Los Angeles Times
May 2, 1899

This building ranks as one of Southern California’s true gems. Completed in 1927, it was designed by the San Francisco firm of Bakewell and Brown. The red tile roofing, cast stone details and massive six-story dome recall 16th Century Italian architectural cues.

When I set out to snap my night photos, I began with the much more elaborate main facade, but was soon drawn through the dome’s archway into the inner courtyard. I took several carefully set shots there until my battery was about out of juice.

As the camera died, I fired off this last haphazard shot gazing skyward from the court fountain. Amazingly, it turned out  the most striking of the batch.

Sometimes it feels like I just don’t get around as much as I used to.

How else to explain my embarrassing ignorance of a splendid little pocket park practically in my own backyard?

Acting on a tip from a source that will remain nameless (OK, it was this month’s issue of Sunset Magazine), your humble blogger set out to explore the Los Angeles River Center along with its rustic gardens tucked behind the intersection of W. Avenue 26 and San Fernando Road.

Remember Lawry’s?

Longtime Angelenos might recognize this spot as the former home of the Lawry’s California Center, a 17-acre food complex shuttered during the early 1990s. For years it drew millions of visitors to its hacienda-like environs for al fresco patio dining.

Way back when, I was among those many visitors, lunching there two or three times with summer co-workers during my college days.

Now, having completely forgotten the place over the ensuing years, I experienced instant deja vu as I parked my Jeep and strolled through the gates. The tables, waiters, patio heaters and BBQ aromas may be gone, but the landmark has lost none of its charm.

Just the opposite, I’d argue it has grown in ambiance, now that it’s being put to use as an interpretive center for the Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy, the Friends of the Los Angeles River and other groups trying to return the nearby Porciuncula to a much greener state. (According to one of the park’s rangers, the state-run Conservancy took charge of the grounds in 2000.)

Taking the Tour

Passing through the main gate and taking an immediate right lands you at the doors of a visitor’s lobby, where simple displays (left) offer a brief natural history of the Los Angeles River. Outside, water dances in several fountains and reflecting pools sheltered by the main building’s bell tower and archways.

Further beyond the central complex, a path bounded by river rock wends its way through a quiet stand of trees, California natives and exotics. Losing yourself amid nature, it’s easy to forget that the Metro and Taylor train yards lie just across the street while Cypress Park’s gigantic Home Depot bustles with traffic just a stone’s throw up San Fernando Road.

Gateway to History

For Westsiders and those otherwise unfamiliar with the area, this is Frogtown, a historic Latino barrio nestled between Silver Lake and Glassell Park. Officially known as the Elysian Valley, it was dubbed Gopher Flats in the 1900s, but renamed again after the 1930s when plagues of croaking amphibians invaded the local streets.

Long before that, however, this area was at the epicenter of 1870s water controversies. Not far from here, the city wrested control of a zanja (water ditch) from Anastacio Feliz, one of the last heirs to Rancho Los Feliz, on what many saw as questionable legal grounds. Trivial as they may seem to us today, the city’s claims to the river’s waters were upheld by the State Supreme Court, helping set the stage for L.A.’s explosive growth a decade later.

The Feliz zanja has long since vanished, but a few blocks from the River Center you can access the Glendale Narrows bike path that takes you past the site of the controversy and into Griffith Park. Along the way you’ll encounter several more interesting pocket parks.

Summing It Up…

All in all, the L.A. River Center and Gardens offer a peaceful reflection on the many transformations still taking place along this stretch of riverbed as well as the dynamic community surrounding it. Visitor info for the park can be found at LAmountains.com.

Personally, your humble blogger looks forward to returning for yet more “rediscoveries” in the near future. This particular green space is a hidden Angeleno treasure.

Ahhh, Glendora… Garden spot of the Southland.

Well maybe not nowadays, but 119 years ago, the Los Angeles Times reported that “you can scarcely find a livelier place” in all Southern California…

“There are no loungers around the postoffice and stores. It is almost out of the question to get a man if you want one for extra work. Whitcomb Bros. & Co. are employing a large force of women, boys and [Chinese] to pick peas. They have shipped 10 tons of peas already… Every house in town is occupied and almost every room.”

Meantime, the neighborhood citrus crop was bustling too, a fact that seems to have thrilled the Times’ Glendora correspondent to no end:

“Our orange trees are a mass of bloom. The air is heavy with their perfume, and they are a ‘thing of beauty and a joy’ if not forever, for a long time.”

Yep. That’s what passed for a happenin’ SoCal scene in the late 1800s.

Source:
“Gladsome Glendora”
Los Angeles Times
April 13, 1890

Joyce Meadows (left) of Canyon Country hoists her “Don’t Tread on Me” flag as Tea Party participants begin to gather at Glendale City Hall just before noon today.

One of many such Tax Day protests held across the nation, the Tea Party was organized by Debi Devens, a self-described “average American housewife” from Glendale’s La Crescenta neighborhood. Devens pulled the event together after deciding just three weeks ago that she’d “had enough” of massive government bailouts and spending.

“The only reason I did is because no one in Glendale or this surrounding area had organized one,” she explains. “I’m really good at complaining about situations but I’ve never really pitched in to do anything. I was so fed up — it was time to stand up and do something.”

Held from noon to 2 p.m., Glendale’s Tea Party was modest in comparison to more sizable events in other cities (some of which at the time of this post were said to be drawing numbers in the low thousands). Still, the crowd was enough to fill the City Hall steps and front lawn, attracting several local news crews, a handful of photographers and bloggers, and a gaggle of curious onlookers from the courthouse across the street.

Beware the Angry Mob?

A couple dozen motorists also honked in support as they drove past along Broadway, eliciting smiles and waves from the protesters, many of whom admitted to being as new to this sort of thing as Devens.

In fact, however “fired up” participants may have said they were, the political gathering showed none of the hallmarks of your typical angry mob ready to “take to the streets.” Rather,  assembly on the sidewalk, lawn and steps was orderly to a fault, with protesters gently reminding each other to show good manners and refrain from stepping into traffic or hindering pedestrians.

And while they did muster numerous boos in response to a list of Sacramento and Obama Administration spending initiatives ticked off by speakers, their overall demeanor remained festive and almost too good-natured.

A chant of “We’re Tea’d Off!” was about as frenzied as they got.

“We are taxed for schools — taxed as no people ever were — and the reason our children cannot go to school is because our money has not been properly used.”

–Major Horace Bell (1830-1918).

Major Bell was publisher of The Porcupine, a famous 19th Century weekly L.A. newspaper dedicated to skewering civic corruption and hypocrisy.

The above quote is from a Sept. 22, 1888, editorial in which Bell blasts officials for demanding ever more taxpayer money even as they continue to waste public funds, allow school facilities to decay, and overcrowd classrooms with as many as 60 students to a teacher.

Hmmmn. And here we are 121 years later…

If you happen to pass by Angelus-Rosedale Cemetery today, don’t be alarmed at any strange whirring sounds you hear. It’s only Bell spinning in his grave.

This rant’s for you!

Yeah, you know who you are… The less responsible bicyclists “ridazzing” through Echo Park and Silver Lake any given weeknight without regard for the traffic around you…

Your after-dark excursions may have you feeling oh so hip, smug and eco-friendly, but you know what would really demonstrate  social consciousness?

Some friggin’ lights.

And not those cheap, kiddie-style white LED flashers so many of you think you’re getting by with… No, I’m talking real grown-up HIDs with some serious candlepower.

In fact, why not double up? Invest both in an HID system and a high-throw LED unit — then mount one on your handlebars and the other on your helmet (which, yes, you also should be wearing but aren’t).

Don’t whine to me about the cost, either. With all the money you brag about saving at the pump, you can afford to splurge on the requisite safety items, including a few clip-on hazard blinkers.

And while we’re at it…

Now that the official Ridazz has devolved into a less structured affair, there’s clearly no leadership left to remind you about biking courtesy. So I’ll do it.

Yes, you may be convinced that bike commuting is the counter-cultural wave of the future, but until our Fearless Leader actually forces all our fannies into bike saddles and teensy GM clown cars, the commonsense rules for sharing the road with your less fashionable internal combustion counterparts still apply.

You might want to start by brushing up on riding with the flow of traffic, and even hand signaling before darting headlong into it. Next maybe practice sticking with your group in the bike lanes and intersections. Once you’ve mastered all that, try yielding to pedestrians every now and then. (Yeah, they use the crosswalks too.)

Believe me, we motorists understand that we’re chiefly responsible for keeping your spokes and sprockets out of our front grilles. Still, would it hurt you to help us out a little?

At first the thought of using my blog’s main column for advertising seemed almost sacrilegious. Then lo and behold, yesterday the Los Angeles Times caved to exactly this sort of journalistic iconoclasm. So why not join the trend? After all, I have an apartment to rent ASAP, and these are tough, recessionary times…

Considering a Large, 2br Place in the Echo Park Hills?

If not, you should be.

You’d enjoy coming home to this huge, split-level 2 bdrm/1.5 bath apartment with rustic canyon and city light views.

Situated in Echo Park’s hilltop Elysian Heights neighborhood, features include:

1,250+ square feet with generous closet space. (Like a small house.)

Fantastic views from living/dining area, bedrooms, balcony and entry landing.

Tastefully appointed with Bamboo flooring, contemporary and vintage fixtures, mini-blinds and upstairs carpeting.

Tiled baths and kitchen with full service porch, including laundry hookups (say goodbye to laundromats)!

Off-street garage parking for two cars, plus space for visitors and an easily accessible, small gated yard for relaxing or entertaining.

The apartment is in a well-maintained, mid-century duplex and is perfect for a couple, roommates, or even a single person looking for a large bedroom plus a home office, etc.

Water, trash and gardener paid by owner (me). You pay your remaining utilities.

About the Neighborhood

Historic Echo Park/Elysian Heights is one of L.A.’s best-kept secrets — diverse and casually trendy the way Silver Lake used to be, it’s especially popular with artists, creatives, musicians and media professionals.

• Highly desirable 90026 zip — a great, friendly neighborhood convenient to freeways, DASH and MTA lines, downtown and the heart of the Echo Park/Silver Lake scene.

• Coffee hangouts like Chango and Fix, as well as Delilah’s Bakery and several boutique shops are within walking distance.

• Dining and clubbing along Sunset Blvd. is also close by, along with shopping, hiking at Elysian Park and games at Dodger Stadium.

• Just a quick jaunt east down Sunset and you’re at Chinatown, the Music Center, downtown galleries or Olvera Street. To the west, you’ll find Silver Lake, Griffith Park, Los Feliz and Hollywood equally quick and accessible. Need to visit Atwater or Glendale? They’re just minutes north.

All in all, you’ll find this apartment an exceptional place to live, if I do say so myself. (The badly taken photos really don’t do it justice…)

• Available as early as May 1.

• $2,175/month, minimum 6-month lease. First month rent plus deposit moves you in. Pets considered with an additional deposit.

For details and showing, email: admin [at] mimlay.com.

With the 1970s making a retro-glorious comeback, Dateline>City of Angels readers might want to check into the popular Foxfire book series that debuted during that decade.

I was reminded of these books while making my recent post about Grannie’s breadbox. As those who lived the 1970s will recall, “returning to nature” and “the basics” were prevalent themes back then, spurred by a tough economy and a burgeoning ecology movement. (You know the saying: “The more things ‘change’…”) Then, like now, there was a yearning for the “simple life” of earlier times, and the Foxfire books helped many Americans explore that fantasy.

The story behind these books is remarkable in itself. Starting about 1966, high school teacher Eliot Wigginton armed his students with notepads and tape recorders and sent them out to interview the denizens of the Southern Appalachians about traditional folk ways. The result was Foxfire Magazine, a student publication that Wigginton and his classes eventually compiled into an eight-book set from 1972 to 1984. (By 2004, the series had grown to 12 volumes with more than 9 million circulating copies.)

My dad was an avid fan of the initial series and, growing up, I also became absorbed by each new addition to his collection. Foxfire 1 dealt with hog dressing, log cabin building, mountain crafts and foods, “planting by the signs,” snake lore, hunting tales, faith healing, moonshining “and other affairs of plain living.” Later volumes would serve as equally eclectic guides to ghost tales, animal care, gardening, weaving, midwifing, home remedies, wagon and banjo making, blacksmithing and more.

Being a heritage-minded bunch, I think this blog’s readership would appreciate these books, which are captivating on so many levels. Wigginton’s students may have started out as amateur journalist-sociologists, but they quickly got caught up in the lives of their “hillbilly” interviewees. The books display a deep affection not just for the lost bits of Americana the kids discover, but for the old-timers whose oral histories they record. You sense that, somewhere along the line, the students came to understand themselves as custodians of dying but meaningful traditions, which they in turn felt compelled to pass along in honor of their mentors.

To me the books are timeless. Having recently borrowed them again from my Dad’s shelf, I’m once more struck by the stark contrasts they paint between urban and rural living one generation to the next. The people and customs we encounter in the Foxfire series are as removed from modern L.A. as you can get. Yet, incredibly, it wasn’t that long ago in our history that Angelenos lived a similar frontier life.

• Link: Foxfire on Amazon.