Mount Wilson Toll Road. (Photo: M. Imlay)

A black-and-white view of Eaton Canyon — chaparral, poison oak and all. Situated in the San Gabriel Mountains near Altadena, the area was originally named El Precipicio for its steep gorges, the result of its location along what was once a main sector of the San Andreas Fault.

The bridge at the lower left is part of the historic Mount Wilson Toll Road that once connected Pasadena to the 5,712-foot mountain peak from 1891-1936. The arroyo passing beneath it drains into the Rio Hondo and ultimately the Los Angeles River.

Naturalist John Muir attempted to explore the gorge in 1877, but turned back at the mouth due to the “oppressive” heat. The canyon was eventually renamed in honor of Judge Benjamin Eaton, who lived in the area from 1865-1876. Today, thanks to numerous trail closures throughout the region, this one has become extremely popular for weekend hikers. If you get the urge to follow in Muir’s footsteps, be prepared to share the path with hundreds of others.

Photo: M. Imlay

We’ve all heard you can “get your kicks on Route 66,” but would you feel just as fine on Route 99?

While less iconic than its cross-country cousin, Route 99 also has a storied past. It began as a dusty stagecoach trail running from Baja California to British Columbia, via California, Oregon and Washington. With the advent of the automobile, what was originally known as the Pacific Highway or Golden Chain became an officially designated U.S. highway in 1926.

During its heyday, the north-south route served as the West Coast’s principal thoroughfare and was often dubbed California’s Main Street or U.S. 66 turned upside down. It featured prominently in John Steinbeck’s classic novel The Grapes of Wrath as the Central Valley artery the Joad family and other Dust Bowl counterparts traveled in a desperate search for migrant work.

Never as kitschy as Route 66, or as romantic as the Camino Real, Route 99 was ultimately rendered obsolete by Interstate 5 and “decommissioned” between 1964-1968. But the historic highway still has its fans. Writing for Via Magazine in 2004, Jennifer Reese observed:

“Driving along 99 today, you’ll find a vibrant, unfussy, authentic California, a fitfully lovely landscape of almond orchards, mangy farmyards, rusty train works, peach trees, Depression-era hamburger stands, and Dairy Queens from more recent days.”

Until, of course, you hit a major city like Los Angeles. Here it’s swallowed into the urban landscape as just another congested roadway. Except for the easily missed historical signs along Cesar E. Chavez Ave., Figueroa St. and San Fernando Road (seen here), you’d never know it existed.

If for whatever reason you find yourself yearning to retrace the famous route on a road trip, probably the best place to start is at the Historic California U.S. Highways Website, which offers a “Finding U.S. 99 Guide” and links to books and other sites on the topic.

Hollywoodland gates, 1923. Source: LAPL Digital Archives

Brand spanking new 87 years ago, the Hollywoodland real estate development welcomes a handful of vintage automobiles through its Beachwood Canyon gates in this 1923 Los Angeles Public Library (LAPL) digital archives photo. Likely carrying property buyers, the cars are parked outside the new neighborhood’s sales headquarters.

Although not visible, the world-famous “Hollywoodland” Sign loomed over the new development atop Mt. Lee. Erected as a sales gimmick the same year as the above photo, its 50-foot letters were festooned with 5,000 electric bulbs that blinked like a Christmas tree each night. (In 1949 neglect led to the sign’s last four letters getting lopped off.)

The Same Gates Now…

Night shot of the gates today. Photo: M. Imlay

Today the castle-like gates witness a constant flood of autos, as I discovered while attempting numerous time-elaspsed images this past Saturday night. Shooting between the hours of  8 to 9:30 p.m., it was impossible to manage a single photo without multiple cars streaming through the scene.

Predictably, daytime traffic is even busier, with tourists arriving by the bike, car and busload every few minutes to snap their pics in the shadow of the Hollywood Sign and the gateway arches. Although a little difficult to discern in this photo, the Hollywoodland Real Estate offices also stand virtually unchanged — and all lit up for the evening — to the right of the large white house near the intersection.

Bronson Cave in Griffith Park. Photo: M. Imlay.

Recognize this gaping oriface in the Hollywood Hills? If you don’t, you obviously weren’t a fan of the 1960s Batman television series or numerous other Hollywood productions hearkening back to the Silent Era.

This is one of a handful of man-made excavations at the southwestern corner of Griffith Park known as the Bronson Caves. Featured prominently in the Lone Ranger, Gunsmoke, Bonanza and many other Western TV series, the cavities also boast numerous Sci-Fi credits, including the Star Trek franchise (both TV and movies), the first Invasion of the Body Snatchers movie, and countless trivial flicks like Teenagers From Outer Space. (A more extensive filmography can be found at Wikipedia. See the video below for the caves’ cameo appearance in Batman.)

One urban legend says the caves were originally carved out for the 1922 silent version of Robin Hood starring Douglas Fairbanks. Actually, they were part of a Union Rock Co. quarry that supplied crushed stone for Hollywood street paving from 1903 to the late 1920s.

Reaching the caves is easy. Simply take either Canyon Drive or Bronson Ave. north from Franklin Ave. into Griffith Park. At road’s end, park and take the 1/4-mile trail from the gravel parking lot. Follow the left fork to the caves. Along the way you’ll also get some terrific views of the Hollywood Sign, which overlooks the canyon further up in the hills.

Pentecostalism's Home Sweet Home. Photo: M.Imlay.

Believe it or not, this little Victorian in Los Angeles’ historic Filipino Town is widely recognized as the birthplace of Pentecostalism.

Yes, before Aimee Semple McPherson’s celebrity revivalism, the Spirit took hold of a small band of fervent religionists here at 216 N. Bonnie Brae in 1906, allegedly inspiring them to speak in tongues not heard since Apostolic Times. That, in turn, sparked a fiery Christian Charismatic movement that eventually swept the globe. (Today Pentecostals are thought to number more than 500 million worldwide.)

Azusa Street Revival Marker.

Back then the humble wooden house was situated in a neighborhood of saloons, liveries and train yards. Now the property of the Church of God in Christ (COGIC), the structure remains open to the public for prayer and tours by appointment. Tipped off about the shrine by Prose Parade blogger Linnea Hunt-Stewart, I decided to make my pilgrimage armed with only my camera and a 2006 article detailing the place, courtesy the now-defunct Los Angeles Times Magazine.

And a Brush With Celebrity…

By sheer coincidence, while I was snapping my dusk photos, up pulled a big Lincoln Town Car driven by TV’s former Divorce Court personality Judge Mablean Ephriam.

Source: Judge Mablean's MySpace

It’s been a few years, but I used to live several doors down from her in Silver Lake. As we reminisced about the old neighborhood, the judge explained that she and her two passengers were making a pilgrimage of their own. Turns out the COGIC is holding a massive Pentecostal women’s crusade at the Los Angeles Convention Center this week. In anticipation of the event, the three ladies felt impelled to spend a moment gazing upon the house where it all began.

Even this former Roman Catholic seminarian turned blogger could appreciate that. As far removed as my own religious experiences may be from Pentecostal fervor, as twilight settled on the tiny yellow house, I couldn’t help but feel at least a few stirrings of the historical spirit contained within its walls myself.

• Bonnie Brae House, visitations by appointment 10 a.m. – 3 p.m., Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, (323) 733-8300 ext. 2326.

Photo: StockXchng

From the Temple Theater, to the Brown Derby, to the Garden of Allah, Southern California seems to boast more bulldozed landmarks than living historical structures. (Joni Mitchell’s 1970 pop lyrics, “They paved paradise to put up a parking lot” make a really apropos Angeleno theme song.)

Starting today, I’d like to introduce a new Friday Forum feature — and what better way to kick it off than a discussion of much-missed victims of our region’s evil developers?

So, if you’re a Southern California native, what favorite childhood landmark do you miss most? It doesn’t have to be famous to qualify — an obscure mom-and-pop soda fountain or pizza parlor now gone forever can evoke just as much nostalgic yearning as, say, Marine Land or the Pan Pacific Park.

And if you’re from another region, don’t feel left out. Perhaps you’ve come to L.A. expecting to see a famous house, hotel or Hollywood icon that’s no longer here. Or better yet, are there any landmarks from your own hometown whose passing you mourn?

Use the Comments feature to add your two cents and keep the discussion rolling…

Source: LAPL Digital Archives

Opened circa 1940 and named for land developer and Temple City founder Walter P. Temple, this proud single-screen theater once stood on the corner of Rosemead and Las Tunas Blvds. Seating 750, it was designed by S. Charles Lee, a prolific Southern California architect with more than 70 movie houses to his credit, almost all of them now closed or razed.

Having grown up in Temple City, I personally have many fond memories of the movie house. In fact, ask any “old-timer” about the place and they’ll happily recall its unique wagon-wheel fence, creaky balcony and 12-cent Saturday matinees featuring plenty of cartoons for restless kidlet audiences throughout the 1950s and 1960s.

The Theater’s Final Curtain

Sadly, however, by the late 1970s the Temple had become better known for its sticky floors, sagging seats and second-rate movie experiences. Purchased by the Edwards Cinema chain, the Streamline Moderne building was demolished in 1982 and replaced with a contemporary four-screen cineplex —  quite an innovation at the time for the sleepy little San Gabriel Valley hamlet.

The same place now.

But the relentless decades marched on, and within 25 years the four-theater bigbox had itself become obsolete, thanks mainly to even bigger movie megaplexes in nearby Pasadena, Alhambra and Arcadia, along with the advent of Netflix and Internet videos. Leveled in 2006, its former site now remains a vacant dirt lot awaiting yet another undetermined redevelopment project. (A number of locals continue to lobby for a new theater.)

With or without a theater to call its own, my childhood hometown nevertheless celebrates 50 years of incorporation May 30. For additional historic Temple City photos, visit its Chamber of Commerce website.

Our Lady of the Lake. Photo: M. Imlay

Though locals call her “Our Lady of the Lake,” this WPA-commissioned statue overlooking Echo Park Lake was actually entitled Nuestra Reina de Los Angeles (Our Queen of the Angels) when designed in 1934 by Ada Mae Sharpless.

In this Art Deco depiction, our city’s patroness stands atop a pedestal featuring iconic reliefs of the harbor, City Hall, Hollywood Bowl and San Gabriel Mountains, among other well-known Los Angeles landmarks. Originally, Sharpless had intended her 14-foot Queen of Angels to be cast in bronze. The actual monument ended up as cast stone, tying La Reina more naturally to her surroundings.

Neglected, tagged and damaged, the statue was removed from the lake and stored for “restoration” in 1986. It took 13 years and a good deal of neighborhood activism to finally secure her safe return from exile in 1999.

Disfigured.

Then, in 2008, Our Lady’s left fingers broke off (inset). Two years and numerous neighborhood council discussions later, she’s still greeting her public sans digits. (See Jenny Burman’s Chicken Corner blog post for the sordid backstory.)

Let’s just hope it doesn’t take another 13-year “vacation” to remedy this latest disfigurement.

Meanwhile, while we’re waiting to find out, here’s an interesting factoid about Our Lady’s neighborhood: Echo Park was established in 1892 by carriage maker Thomas Kelly, who first called his real estate development Edendale. According to legend, however, the name was changed when builders’ voices bounced annoyingly off the canyon walls.

Photo: M.Imlay

Who says L.A. has no history? Open your eyes (or in this case your camera lens) wide enough, and you’ll literally discover it in the most out-of-the-way corners of town.

While shooting the Broadway viaduct the other day, I parked my Jeep in front of this old brick building on N. Spring Street, thinking little of it. Located at the northernmost fringes of the downtown train yards, there’s nothing all that remarkable about the neighborhood — just a lot of aging warehouses and machine shops. Still, returning from my photoshoot, I liked the way the light was playing off the structure, so I took a few quick photos before driving off.

As I processed the images, the building’s backstory began to gnaw at me. How old was it? Who constructed it? What was its original purpose? On a lark, I launched an Internet search, not really expecting to find anything noteworthy. Little did I know…

Oil, Acrylics and Feminism

It turns out the 16,000-square-foot building was erected in 1914 (some sources say 1917) as a sales office for the once-illustrious Standard Oil Corp. In fact, the relief topping the door represents the oil company’s former logo. But the now-forlorn edifice has an even greater claim to fame. In 1975 it became home to the legendary non-profit feminist art and education group, Woman’s Building. Here are the details, courtesy Wikipedia:

“In 1973, artist Judy Chicago, graphic designer Sheila Levrant de Bretteville, and art historian Arlene Raven founded the first independent school for women artists, the Feminist Studio Workshop…. Central to the founders’ vision was the idea that the arts should not be separated from other activities of the burgeoning women’s community, and the three looked for a site for their school that could also be shared with other organizations and enterprises.”

They first chose the old Chouinard Art Institute near MacArthur Park, which they re-dubbed “Woman’s Building” after an 1893 Chicago World’s Fair structure designed by Sophia Hayden to showcase women’s arts and crafts. (In fact, not since Hayden had anyone undertaken such an exclusive center for women’s art.) However, when the Korean Culture Center purchased the Chouinard building in 1975, the group was forced to move.

The Gallery of Sisterhood

Photo: M.Imlay

They landed here at the corner of Spring and Aurora. Though somewhat isolated above Chinatown, for 16 years the new Woman’s Building went on to distinguish itself as a hub of creative activism for feminist artists, poets and writers. It hosted programs and events featuring some of women culture’s biggest names while also variously housing theater groups, the Sisterhood Bookstore, a thrift shop, a travel agency, cafes, an arts and crafts store, and offices for Chrysalis Magazine and the Woman Against Violence Against Women (WAVAW) organization.

By 1991, though, the original Woman’s Building organizers had all moved on to other projects, and the enterprise shut its doors. Today the momentous brick-and-mortar building is again up for lease as creative/office space.

Hopefully it will find a new occupant worthy of its history.

Broadway Viaduct, L.A. River. Photo: M.Imlay.

“The Los Angeles River was a beautiful, limpid little stream with willows on its banks….it was so attractive to me that it at once became something about which my whole scheme of life was woven. I loved it so much.” — William Mulholland, 1855-1935.

You have to admit there’s a certain irony to this quote. Thanks to the draining of the Owens Valley and, later, the St. Francis Dam disaster, “nature lover” isn’t exactly the first thing that pops to mind when today’s Angeleno thinks “Mulholland.”

Hero or villain, with his legendary engineering prowess Mulholland helped pave the way for this town’s explosive growth in the 1900s. The crazy twist is his beloved river also ended up paved in the process.

Lummis' home and castle. Photo: M. Imlay.

Imagine trekking more than 3,000 miles to take a job. Yet that’s exactly what Charles Fletcher Lummis did in 1884 after accepting a reporting position at the Los Angeles Times.

In what has to be one of the greatest early promotional stunts in L.A. Media history, Lummis journeyed on foot from Cincinnati to the City of Angels, dispatching reports of his adventures along the way. The entire trip took 148 days, but every step was worth it: Lummis arrived in Los Angeles a sensation, prompting Times publisher Harrison Otis to immediately make him the paper’s first City Editor.

Between 1898 and 1910, Lummis built the distinctive El Alisal “castle” along the Arroyo Seco using granite river rock, concrete and old Santa Fe Railroad telephone poles. Located off the 110 Freeway at Avenue 43, it’s now the home of the Historical Society of Southern California.

Library of Congress image.

Quite a Character

To say Lummis was “eccentric” would be an understatement. An admirer of Native American culture, popular legend has it he used to run around El Alisal clad in nothing but a loin cloth, imitating California tribal ways and generally getting back to nature.

Thankfully for Southern California, Lummis also enjoyed playing the role of energetic civic booster, serving as Los Angeles City Librarian, founding the famous Southwest Museum, and hosting swanky parties for civic, artistic and theatrical luminaries to promote Southwestern culture. (Theodore Roosevelt and Will Rogers were just two of his illustrious guests.) As president of the historic Landmarks Club, he fought to preserve the California Missions, which at that time were mostly in ruins. Meanwhile, he championed Indian rights by establishing the Sequoya League.

Path through the garden.

Considering how Lummis got here, there’s ironically little walking to do at his former grounds. A pleasant little pocket park about half a block in size, El Alisal features a simple path meandering through a tranquil botanical garden boasting many California native specimens. A garden stroll and tour of the house/museum can be accomplished in 30 minutes, but the quaint beauty of the place will have you lingering much longer. Best of all, admission is free, making this hidden landmark an exceptional sightseeing choice for a lazy weekend afternoon.

Just please don’t try doing it in a loin cloth…

• El Alisal is located at 200 E. Avenue 43. Hours are Friday-Sunday, noon to 4 p.m. Phone: 323.460.5632.
• You can learn more about Lummis at CharlesLummis.com.

The aquatic park entertained millions of visitors to the Palos Verdes Peninsula from 1954 to 1987. Opening a year prior to Disneyland, it was then the world’s largest oceanarium and arguably California’s first major theme park.

But the whales, dolphins and performing seals are all history now, along with the ruins shown in this video made two years ago. This past June a brand-new resort hotel opened on their site.

For yet another trip down memory lane, click on over to this old Marineland commercial starring a formerly well-known child actor.

Marian Mural. Photo: M. Imlay

Time now for the second installment in this blog’s occasional That’s Our Lady photo series, bringing you random depictions of Our Lady of the Angels from throughout the region.

Yes, I know that technically this colorful mural at 6th and Union Drive represents Our Lady of Guadalupe, but I don’t mind stretching the series definition to embrace theologically and culturally diverse renditions of L.A.’s patroness.

Still decked out for Christmas in late July, Our Lady offers prayerful solace to this bustling Central American neighborhood. An array of votive candles adorns her waist, clearly invoking her protection over residents. Meanwhile, St. Juan Diego kneels to her right, paying his respects.

L.A.'s First Theme Mall. Photo: M. Imlay

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 across town on Central Avenue.

Here at Crossroads, a twirling globe crowns a mast-like spire. Inside the gates, a replica European village surrounds the ocean cruiser at the heart of the complex. In the background towers another architectural wonder, the bellfry  of Hollywood’s Church of the Blessed Sacrament, built in 1928 on a parish site occupied by the Jesuit Order since 1904.

Cathedral Statue. Photo: M. Imlay

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.

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.

Dateline>City of Angels hasn’t served up a Pop Quiz in a while, so let’s revive the feature with a relatively easy question, shall we?

The Question: Los Angeles has long been known as the epicenter of Southern California’s car culture. Not surprisingly, the state’s first freeway was born here. (Many claim it’s actually the first freeway in the entire western United States.) Can you name it? Click the continuation link to view the answer…

The Answer: If you said the Pasadena or 110 Freeway, you’re correct — although officially the roadway opened New Year’s Eve 1940 as the Arroyo Seco Parkway. As its name implies, the route parallels the scenic dry gulch connecting Pasadena with L.A.’s Highland Park neighborhood.

The motorway is historic not only for its “first freeway” status, but because, from an engineering perspective, it represents an intricate design transition from recreational parkways to high-speed commuter thoroughfares. In fact, it was declared a National Civil Engineering Landmark in 1999.

Indeed, the 110 FWY has quite a storied past — too lengthy to fully recount here. The freeway retraces a foot path once used by Gabrieleno Indians, which by the 1800s had become a wagon road between Pasadena and L.A. In the early 1900s, an elevated wooden cycleway also traversed the route, along with a rail line, and later several automotive roadways. Construction of the motor parkway began in March 1938.

More detailed (and fascinating) background on the topic can be found at the following Websites:

• The Arroyo Seco Foundation
• The National Scenic Byways Program
• Wikipedia: Pasadena Freeway

My regular readers may be wondering where I’ve been lately. The answer is all over town.

Two magazine writing gigs, plus continued work on my book have kept me plenty busy. Add to that a documentary film class that I started at the Echo Park Film Center a couple of weeks ago, and you’ve got the makings of one very scarce blogger.

Of all my present adventures, though, the filmmaking class is proving the most fun. My subject is Old Calvary Cemetery, which disappeared from the Angeleno landscape almost a century ago. For background, I plan to reference other historic L.A. graveyards that suffered equally unfortunate run-ins with bulldozers. Consequently, I’ve been scurrying to and fro, researching, scouting and shooting various locations.

Which brings us to the photo above. Expressively modern, the recently completed Central High School No. 9 towers atop Ft. Moore Hill, once the site of L.A.’s first Protestant burial ground. With a reported price tag of $232 million, it’s L.A.’s second most costly school to date, and replaces the Board of Education headquarters that occupied the hill for decades. Although locals regularly refer to it as the Grand Avenue Arts School, the facility still lacks an official name.

Many have criticized the project, but I find the architecture inspiring. Still, walking the site, the preservationist in me couldn’t help but feel a little wistful about all the forgotten history beneath my sneakers.

As I focused my lens, the storm clouds surrounding the structure darkened dramatically, lending the scene a symbolic aura. Suddenly, the impressive stack of concrete, glass and metal seemed less to me a school than a giant cairn erected by a city that sadly buries its past as quick and deep as its dead.