Three days ago, I posted a photo of the Los Angeles river as seen from the 9th St/Olympic Viaduct before it was concreted over as a consequence of the heavy rains that inundated Southern California in early March 1938. This photo show us just how heavy those rains were. We’re looking east along W. 43rd Place at Garthwaite Ave, southeast of the USC campus. Judging from the guy pushing the car on the right, the water looks like it reached waist height. But I have to wonder: What is the school bus doing there? With flood water measuring in feet, did that bus driver really think it was a regular school day?
This is roughly how that view looked in August 2022.
And from the “You Don’t See Many of These Things Anymore” file comes this photo of a newsstand. But not just any newsstand — the longest I’ve ever seen, and the only one to have its own neon sign. The sign appears to read “Home Town Papers,” but aside from every newspaper imaginable, it always appears to be selling every magazine in existence, as well as pocket books, which were paperbacks small enough to be carried in a pocket The caption to this photo simply said that it was taken in 1960 in downtown LA but not where. One of the comments suggested it was taken on Sixth St between Hill and Broadway, but there appears to be no sidewalk, so who knows. Wherever it was, it looks like it had something for everyone.
In a city of marvelous movie palaces (the Chinese, the Egyptian, the Pantages, the Million Dollar) one of the most famous and most loved cinemas in Los Angeles was the Carthay Circle Theatre, which opened in 1926. It stood at 6316 San Vicente Blvd, and as this aerial shot shows, it had quite a bit of empty land around it—at least in the early 1940s, when this image was captured. And that empty land would have been handy because the Carthay Circle became one of the go-to venues for big Hollywood premieres, including The Great Ziegfeld (1936), Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937), Marie Antoinette (1938), Gone with the Wind (1939), Fantasia (1940). All those limos and press and fans needed to go somewhere. The theater was demolished in 1969. (Source: Calisphere)
In early March 1938, Southern California endured four days of extraordinarily heavy rains that resulted in devastating floods. Consequently, Los Angeles decided to engage the Army Corps of Engineers to pave over the Los Angeles river so that it could be better controlled. These days, it’s such an enduring part of the LA cityscape that it can be hard for us 21st century Angelenos to remember that it once looked like a regular river. This shot of it is circa 1938 and shows us what it looked like when facing north from what was then known as the Ninth St Viaduct, but is now called the Olympic Blvd Viaduct, east of downtown LA. (Source: CurbedLA)
This rather dramatic shot show the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra playing an Easter sunrise service at a packed Hollywood Bowl. This was in 1924; that year Easter Sunday fell on April 20. The first time the LAPO played an Easter service was in 1921. Three years later there was still no shell. That wouldn’t be built for a another two years. I don’t know about other services, but this one featured a “living cross” which I presume means the choir was dressed in white and arranged in the shape of a cross. The event was certainly well attended – there doesn’t appear to be an empty seat in the house—or the hillside, as the case may be.
This is one of those photos that reminds me that maybe parking wasn’t always easy in yesteryear Los Angeles. I don’t have much information about this photo other than it was taken in Malibu sometime in the 1930s. I’m guessing it must have been a warm and sunny beach day when this photo was taken, and every Angeleno with a car was determined to catch some rays…if only they could find a park, which for the latecomers on driving along the Roosevelt Highway (aka PCH) appears to be way too late. I’m fairly sure that large hillside home in the background is Villa de Leon, which puts the location of this photo east of the easternmost tip of Malibu.
The corner of 7th St & Broadway in downtown Los Angeles was not only LA’s busiest intersection, but also it seems its most photographed section, if my anecdotal experience is anything to go by. But here is an angle I haven’t seen before. Taken in June 1919, it shows a streetcar negotiating the intersection at what I assume is a very slow speed because it looks like a female passenger is climbing aboard. In the background we can see how many of the downtown stores had awnings out front to protect shoppers from the weather. But most of all, I like that streetlight in the foreground. Including the large center globe, it appears to have seven lights, which must have been helpful come nightfall. (Source: Metro Library and Archive)
In this circa 1937, we’re standing on Wilshire Blvd—we know that from the Wilshire Special streetlights. The view is looking northeast from west of Figueroa St toward downtown LA. Back then, the skyline of that part of downtown was dominated by the building on the left, which was one of the most beautiful skyscrapers LA ever had, the black and gold terra cotta-clad Richfield oil building. But also catching my eye is that pair of signs saying “10.” I assume they’re signs for parking. I wonder how long 10 cents bought you. (Source: LA Public Library)
In this photo, we get to visit the Fox movie studio in Century City. From the early 30s Nash and Chrysler, we can pin point this photo as being circa 1930s, which places it before the 1935 merger with 20th Century Pictures. I love how Stage 6 and its neighbor in the background are topped with (what I’m guessing we can call) a ziggurat tower. In fact, each soundstage appears to have a pair of towers, which is a nice decorative touch for an otherwise utilitarian structure. In the years to come, Stage 6 would be used in the filming of “Gentleman’s Agreement” (1947), “The King and I,” (1956) “The Poseidon Adventure,” (1972) and Nine to Five (1980). (Source: variety.com)