This late Victorian mansion was built around 1888 and stood at 325 S. Bunker Hill Ave in downtown Los Angeles. Known locally as “The Castle” (it had 20 rooms and a three-story staircase) it took a battalion of staff to run, including a guy who looked after the horses and carriages, like the ones parked out front in this photo. The one at the front is highly decorated, so maybe it was taken for a public holiday? For the first couple of decades, this was a one-family home, but then, for six decades it was, like many of these large homes, a boarding house. In 1969, it was moved to Heritage Place to save it from demolition because of the coming construction of the Hollywood Freeway.
Before television came along, causing us to spend most of our time sitting on the sofa, people would go out for an evening’s dinner and dancing. And where did Americans go to learn how to waltz, foxtrot, rumba, and cha-cha? Why, they went to Arthur Murray, of course! As you might imagine, Los Angeles had quite a few Arthur Murray dance schools but this one on the corner of Wilshire Blvd and Stanley Ave, along the “Miracle Mile” section of Wilshire. And with that tall sign over the building, you couldn’t miss it.
Roughly that same view in January 2020. The Prudential building in the background now houses SAG-AFTRA, the actors’ union. (I also love the shadow of the palm tree against the wall of the old Arthur Murray building.)
Over the decades of its lifetime, the Ambassador Hotel on Wilshire Blvd had many bands and many singers play the famed Cocoanut Grove nightclub, but for the longest time its house band was led by Freddy Martin. His career started in the early 1930s but by the 40s he was playing the Roosevelt Grill in New York and the Cocoanut Grove. In 1957 he recorded a live album, by which time he had launched the career of a crooner named Merv Griffin. Judging from the missing “D” in the huge sign, I’m guessing this photo was taken late his career.
Try as they might, supermarket designers these days rarely create buildings as pleasing to the eye as this Thriftimart with its corner spire, its clean Art Moderne lines, and even the font they used on a signage. (Although at the time, they probably called it a typeface.) This Thriftimart stood at the northwest corner of Wilshire Blvd and Norton Ave, next to the Los Altos apartment building. I don’t know when it opened but this photo was taken circa mid 1930s.
On April 4, 1923, a huge crowd of Angelenos gathered in downtown Los Angeles to witness the world’s most famous escape artist do this thing. Harry Houdini performed his straitjacket escape while suspended from a balcony of the headquarters of Hearst’s Herald Examiner Building at 1111 S. Broadway. Would this be the one time the great Houdini failed to escape and instead plunge to his death? Success or failure, you can be sure that William Randolph Hearst had his headline.
“Crowd at Examiner Watching Wizard Free Himself”, April 5, 1923:
Herald Examiner Building is still around. This is how it looked in April 2018.
In this photo from January 1887, we can see how steep Bunker Hill was before the city flattened it in the 1950s. We’re looking down Second Street where the streetcars ferry passengers who were, I’d imagine, glad they didn’t have to trudge up that hill. It looks like there’s a sidewalk but the actual street itself is just dirt. So imagine tackling it by foot during the rainy season!
Yesterday’s photo gave us a glimpse of Wilshire and Wilton in the mid-1920s, and today gives us one from circa 1937. Ham and Eggs Incorporated claimed that it was “specializing in the finest ham and eggs and kindred dishes.” So I’m guessing it was more of a breakfast joint, similar to the Glorifried Ham and Eggs that used to be opposite Schwab’s Pharmacy on Sunset Blvd. This place stood at 3953 Wilshire Blvd and is no longer around, but that apartment building in the background is still with us.
It’s photos like this one (we’re looking east along Wilshire Blvd from Wilton Place, circa 1925) that makes me think driving on the roads back then was a free-for-all. No lanes, no lights, no safety cones around the road work being done on the left. It’s almost as though the prevailing rules is: Drive wherever you like.
In case you’ve ever wondered what it was like to film a snow storm scene in the middle of sunny Los Angeles, this is what it’s like. As you, the actor, staggers down the fake street façade emoting the heck out of the scene, a crew is rolling beside you, with a machine that funnels into a wind machine tons of gypsum or shredded paper or bleached corn flakes or mica or asbestos or whatever looks good on camera. I’d imagine that stuff gets into every nook and cranny, so you wouldn’t want to mess your lines too much and have to do it over, would you?
In this circa mid-to-late-1950s shot, we’re treated to a pair of eye-catchingly red Pacific Electric streetcars on Brand Blvd in Glendale (known to film fans as where Mildred Pierce lived.) The photographer was facing north toward Broadway and the mountains. These streetcars were headed to and from the Subway Terminal at 4th and Hills Streets, downtown L.A. By the look of all those passengers lining up to get on, I’d say it was a popular stop.
This late Victorian mansion was built around 1888 and stood at 325 S. Bunker Hill Ave in downtown Los Angeles. Known locally as “The Castle” (it had 20 rooms and a three-story staircase) it took a battalion of staff to run, including a guy who looked after the horses and carriages, like the ones parked out front in this photo. The one at the front is highly decorated, so maybe it was taken for a public holiday? For the first couple of decades, this was a one-family home, but then, for six decades it was, like many of these large homes, a boarding house. In 1969, it was moved to Heritage Place to save it from demolition because of the coming construction of the Hollywood Freeway.
Before television came along, causing us to spend most of our time sitting on the sofa, people would go out for an evening’s dinner and dancing. And where did Americans go to learn how to waltz, foxtrot, rumba, and cha-cha? Why, they went to Arthur Murray, of course! As you might imagine, Los Angeles had quite a few Arthur Murray dance schools but this one on the corner of Wilshire Blvd and Stanley Ave, along the “Miracle Mile” section of Wilshire. And with that tall sign over the building, you couldn’t miss it.
Over the decades of its lifetime, the Ambassador Hotel on Wilshire Blvd had many bands and many singers play the famed Cocoanut Grove nightclub, but for the longest time its house band was led by Freddy Martin. His career started in the early 1930s but by the 40s he was playing the Roosevelt Grill in New York and the Cocoanut Grove. In 1957 he recorded a live album, by which time he had launched the career of a crooner named Merv Griffin. Judging from the missing “D” in the huge sign, I’m guessing this photo was taken late his career.
Try as they might, supermarket designers these days rarely create buildings as pleasing to the eye as this Thriftimart with its corner spire, its clean Art Moderne lines, and even the font they used on a signage. (Although at the time, they probably called it a typeface.) This Thriftimart stood at the northwest corner of Wilshire Blvd and Norton Ave, next to the Los Altos apartment building. I don’t know when it opened but this photo was taken circa mid 1930s.
On April 4, 1923, a huge crowd of Angelenos gathered in downtown Los Angeles to witness the world’s most famous escape artist do this thing. Harry Houdini performed his straitjacket escape while suspended from a balcony of the headquarters of Hearst’s Herald Examiner Building at 1111 S. Broadway. Would this be the one time the great Houdini failed to escape and instead plunge to his death? Success or failure, you can be sure that William Randolph Hearst had his headline.
In this photo from January 1887, we can see how steep Bunker Hill was before the city flattened it in the 1950s. We’re looking down Second Street where the streetcars ferry passengers who were, I’d imagine, glad they didn’t have to trudge up that hill. It looks like there’s a sidewalk but the actual street itself is just dirt. So imagine tackling it by foot during the rainy season!
Yesterday’s photo gave us a glimpse of Wilshire and Wilton in the mid-1920s, and today gives us one from circa 1937. Ham and Eggs Incorporated claimed that it was “specializing in the finest ham and eggs and kindred dishes.” So I’m guessing it was more of a breakfast joint, similar to the 
It’s photos like this one (we’re looking east along Wilshire Blvd from Wilton Place, circa 1925) that makes me think driving on the roads back then was a free-for-all. No lanes, no lights, no safety cones around the road work being done on the left. It’s almost as though the prevailing rules is: Drive wherever you like.
In case you’ve ever wondered what it was like to film a snow storm scene in the middle of sunny Los Angeles, this is what it’s like. As you, the actor, staggers down the fake street façade emoting the heck out of the scene, a crew is rolling beside you, with a machine that funnels into a wind machine tons of gypsum or shredded paper or bleached corn flakes or mica or asbestos or whatever looks good on camera. I’d imagine that stuff gets into every nook and cranny, so you wouldn’t want to mess your lines too much and have to do it over, would you?
In this circa mid-to-late-1950s shot, we’re treated to a pair of eye-catchingly red Pacific Electric streetcars on Brand Blvd in Glendale (known to film fans as where Mildred Pierce lived.) The photographer was facing north toward Broadway and the mountains. These streetcars were headed to and from the Subway Terminal at 4th and Hills Streets, downtown L.A. By the look of all those passengers lining up to get on, I’d say it was a popular stop.