The Last Old Places


Valerio w/ of Hazeltine

Valerio w/ of Hazeltine

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Valerio w/ of Hazeltine

You think you know Van Nuys.

And then some small remnant of old property appears. And you are pulled back into a long lost world: unguarded, spacious, verdant, shaded, open and expansive.

It happened a few days ago, when I was traveling on Sherman Way and turned up Katherine Avenue, west of Hazeltine, to avoid late afternoon traffic.

As I approached Valerio, I saw the old San Fernando Valley in an apparition: a few large parcels of land, shaded by large trees, a ranch house set back from the street, unenclosed by fences, iron, brick, or barking dogs.

I returned last night with Andreas from Up in the Valley to explore the neighborhood.

At 14203 Valerio, we found a long driveway, headed with a sign of a family name: “The Schaefers”, and beyond, in the distance, many rose bushes, the long exterior eaved porch; all the indicators of normalcy and domestic tranquility that once presented itself in abundance around these parts.

I was surprised that some industrious Armenian had not bought up the land, torn down the houses and erected a cul-de-sac of concrete and columns, but there it was, a lone sweet house, a place that seemed welcoming, not hostile, unafraid and hopeful, a residence of grace and generosity, without violent defenses, grotesque proportions and malingering meanness.

There were no large SUVs, pit bulls, cinderblock or steel window bars. This was Van Nuys as it once was, up until perhaps 1975, a lovely place to live.

There was a large unpicked grapefruit tree in the yard, an old tree, another symbol of the post WWII days when organic was the only type of eating, and unselfconscious Californians ate well in their own backyards.

This house and this land will probably not survive in its present incarnation much longer. If there were a Van Nuys Historical Society it might honor this home with a citation. But for now only the camera can capture what was and what still is.

The Small Illegalities.


15137 Gilmore St. Van Nuys, CA 91411
15137 Gilmore St. Van Nuys, CA 91411

A ridge is defined as a small, narrow hilltop. It is also one half of Kester Ridge, our growing neighborhood Facebook group that seeks to build a consensus on improving Van Nuys radiating from Victory/Sepulveda.

We gathered, about 20 of us, last night, at my neighbor’s house. The participants are homeowners, of all ages, all white. A few had just moved in, fixed up their houses, told stories of planting grass seed instead of sod, soliciting HGTV for a kitchen remodel.

Quite a few are “looking for work”, “between jobs”, “working from home”, all the tender euphemisms for the unemployed.

At home, all day, in the Valley heat, they bear witness to the pathologies of the area, the small illegalities: discarded food wrappers, pot smoking kids in cars, taggers, barking dogs, dog shit.

A block captain, a longtime resident here, spoke of walking her beat, her conversations with LAPD SLO Rich DeMauro, the calls about prostitution, the whores who walk up and down, the johns who pick them up, the discarded condoms.

The whore talk took up most of the time, an issue as endemic and real to Van Nuys as Botox is to Beverly Hills.

We talked about the slum mall at 14851 Victory at Kester, a commercial property of seven thriving businesses whose trash has piled up on the side of the street for years. A $10 broom would cure this cancer.

The trash pickers, the ones who go through recyclables and rip open bags, they also were decried. It is illegal to steal from the blue recycle bin, but in modern California, tolerance, not statute is law.

We spoke of the wig and costumed prostitutes who go around in their cars and change into new outfits to escape arrest.

A real life crime story too…

A new homeowner had captured, in his driveway, a man in a pick up truck, loading up a stolen whole house air-conditioning condenser. The victim  grabbed onto the driver, holding his neck, but the thief escaped and drove off, was later arrested and is now paying off his theft.

Overall, looking at these respectable, articulate, thoughtful, nice neighbors, so at odds with the image of Van Nuys, one yearns for a real government of real laws, responsive to constituents, a government intolerant of the small illegalities.

All anyone wants is a quiet, peaceful, safe, sane place to live.

The Empty Spaces


Large expanses of asphalt and black tar bake in sun day after day. These are the parking lots behind retail stores, many untenanted, forgotten and forlorn on the west side of Halbrent,north of Erwin, east of Sepulveda.

This area is chiefly known for two businesses: The Barn, a six-decade-old, red-sided furniture store and Star Restaurant Equipment & Supply advertised for 12 hours every weekend on KNX-1070 by radio fillibusteress Melinda Lee.

The Barn uses its parking lot to store trucks. But next door to the north, lot after lot is empty.

I came here this morning with a camera, lens cap off, a provocative act in the bracero’s hood. In the shadows, undocumented workers hide behind doorways and look away when I aim my digital weapon at asphalt.  I mean the Mexicans no harm or ill will.

Blithely walking and lightly thinking, daydreaming, I forgot that I have no business here amidst the enormity of emptiness and unproductivity.

I’m looking for a story, for an angle, for a job.

So many are out of work and so much can be done to employ mind and muscle and money.

There is such a wealth and a waste of land in Los Angeles, and America in general. Imagine what Tokyo or Bangkok would do with all these unused acres!

These empty spaces are within a five-minute walk from public transportation, Costco, LA Fitness, CVS and Staples as well as two grammar schools, three banks and an Asian supermarket.

This is a walkable place.

A well-financed visionary could build a low-rise, dense, green, urban farm upon these entombed soils, plant Oak trees, create a little garden with fresh fruits and vegetables, oranges, lemons, and asparagus.

This is a place of potential.

An architect could design some functional and modern attached houses, artfully shading them with native trees.

But for now, the parking lots suffer in silence; waiting for the day that California fires up its economy, wakes up from its long slumber and pushes progress.

Anti-Family Planning.


On the corner of Van Nuys and Burbank Boulevards, two large commercial buildings are going up simultaneously.

Chipolte (2011 net income was $214.9 million, an increase of 20.1%) is erecting a restaurant on the NE side, with the requisite peel-on bricks and pointy top roof, but commendably, its building comes right up to the sidewalk and will enliven the street with its presence.

But on the NW corner, the CVS Corporation ($7.2 b in net income, 2010) is constructing one of its signature cheapy drug stores, entirely of cinderblock, set back some 30 feet from the sidewalk, without windows and seemingly without any concern or regard for the urban possibilities and architectural imagination which it can surely afford.

It is a small point to discuss this one small drugstore, but one that has larger implications into how Angelenos and our city fail to plan and design commercial architecture to improve our neighborhoods through pedestrian-oriented design.

This area of Van Nuys is full of pleasant apartments and small houses, though much of it recently has seceded and renamed itself “Sherman Oaks”. It’s confusing, but the car dealerships are allowed to call themselves “Van Nuys” but the homes behind them are now in “Sherman Oaks”.

During the day, the street is a blindingly boring stretch of car dealerships that are slowly climbing back to sell us more of what is bankrupting us. Fill ‘er up!

And at night, the whole area is floodlit with acre upon acre of parking lots full of cars, watched over by security guards and security cameras.  Dog walkers with plastic bags full of warm shit stroll by quickly. There is nothing to do here other than get out fast.

So the corner of Van Nuys and Burbank cries out for some lively alternative, such as one of those Owl Drugstores that were all over Los Angeles in the 1940s, the ones that had plate glass windows and soda counters. Those are still the best example of what a drug store can aspire to.

And who would not prefer Owl with its old, artful, graceful pharmacy lamps and glass counters, corner awnings and decorative script lettering; against the modern, plastic CVS- a windowless box in a parking lot- which has aisles filled with disposable umbrellas, generic whisky, Halloween costumes and XXL t-shirts, which are stuffed into their ugly, fluorescent-lit emporiums?

In a few months, the new CVS will open and the parking lot will be filled with cars and litter, loud music and asphalt baking in the sun.  It will do a certain amount of business, and its numbers will be verified and approved by accountants, lawyers, and the CEOs of CVS.

But Van Nuys will gain nothing.

Casing the Hood…


What if you were at home around Noon and there was a loud pounding on your front door?

You went to answer it and a young Latino said, “Oh, hey. I was just looking for Byron”.

When you told him there was no Byron at this address, he said, “OK thanks!”

And if you went out and followed him, you would see that he had backed his gold pickup truck into your driveway  and that he had a CA License 8M59236.

A truck full of boxes. Backed into a driveway of home where he was not expected…..

Would you not think that this person was casing the hood and intending to find houses where nobody was home?

This is what happened here today and all people should be aware that this type of suspect and dubious and possibly criminal activity is going on all over the city.

And if this person was truly looking for Byron…I hope he finds him working at LAPD’s Van Nuys Division.

The Dissenter.


Hmmm….not everyone in “Part of Sherman Oaks” agrees with the push to rename a section of Van Nuys, “Sherman Oaks”.