Storytelling in Boyle Heights: Places Have Memories

Telling stories of the barrio in the shadow of the broken Sixth Street Bridge

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Shmuel with the broken arches of the Sixth Street Bridge.

For the past few months the demotion of the Sixth Street Bridge has been pushing its ways through the Boyle Heights Flats. Knocking its way through an area mostly filled with industrial and wholesale produce warehouses, just adjacent to a residential neighborhood and low-income housing projects.

A couple of weeks before we came out to see the aftermath of that part of the viaduct demolition, finding before us an eerie bridge to nowhere. With the connecting eastern spans of the bridge already removed, and only the glory of the arches hanging high against the skyline. [See the previous video, “Sixth Street Bridge: The bridge to nowhere.”]

Since then the easternmost arches of the classic Sixth Street Viaduct were removed, and I have been stuck considering these vital questions:

How are we going to be able to continue to tell our important local narrative when so many places are being demolished and changed all around us? What is the real cost to our local storytelling when we see have our historical landmarks demolished?

Today we are coming to witness what it all looks like from up close. And to try to recapture some memories for ourselves and posterity.

See the full length video here:

This day we choose to come in from the direction of Fourth Street, and enter by the train track inlets located there at Mission Road. Making our way towards the direction of the Sixth Street Bridge, which could be seen just beyond the rows of boxcars and tankers on the commercial trains tracks that line the eastern bank of the Los Angeles River.

In terms of the storytelling of this area, this really is the most authentic way to make our way down towards the riverbed. For people who come from the Flats and from the more dense parts of Boyle Heights north of here, this is the path remembered most for taking for when venturing over the train tracks. This is the past most often taken by old school locals from the barrio who linger around the riverbed. Making our way to the hole in the fence which leads to the riverbed below.

Since the earliest days these areas have always attracted the local kids like magnets. Especially the area around the train yards. The train yards have been here since the beginning.

Actually in the first booming years of Los Angeles, this was even more active with train activity than today. Just on the other bank of the river there was the main train terminus for the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway, located at La Grande Station just over on Santa Fe Road. Which required vast areas of train yards, yards where traffic often slowed down in the evenings and to a hault on the weekends.

Quickly this surrounding area became a youth hub, for kids who had nowhere else to go. And not just for local kids. The train yards also became the home of the hobo boxcar kids that were coming west during the Great Depression.

This area even early on became the destination for car clubs; a real life version of Thunder Road from the movie “Grease” (1978), which was filmed in the riverbed below. For both racing and cruising, the vast empty areas around the viaducts would become a rallying point.

For many reasons this area became associated with the youth subcultures.

Now I have to stress this. So much a part of the local narrative is this place and our relationship to it that it is enshrined in our local art and writing, and also on film.

You will see the Sixth Street Bridge memorialized in notorious barrio themed films and cult classics.

“Blood In, Blood Out.” (1993) In this infamous shot you can see our old hangout right between their heads, the best observation point on the Sixth Street Bridge.

In “Blood in. Blood Out.” (1993), the dramatic ending of that film brings the story and the characters back to this bridge to fully evoke a sense of youth-like nostalgia. And in doing so this film captures some of the most impressive views of this bridge as the camera rises from the riverbed and takes flight over the viaduct at the very end of the film.

These bridges here also play a central role in the finest family film about the neighborhood of Boyle Heights, “My Family. Mi Familia.” (1995) The film opens with gorgeous shots of the Sixth Street Bridge. Bridges which Paco, the narrator, says remind him of his family. In that narrative the bridges always existed. And they tell the story of parents who have always crossed over these bridges in the early mornings in order to fulfill the needs of the city on the westside of the river, and then stream back at the end of the day to the eastside. In that film it repeatedly recalled our relationship with the bridges as part of the life cycle of the neighborhood. It also regards them as launch points into the world. Though it also regards them as boundaries, in that people from the westside seemed to never cross into the eastside. [We will soon explore this movie more deeply, I promise!]

The reality is that historically these bridges have served dual purposes in our lives, edifices which have united and divided us. These bridges which have connected us with the bustling city center, these same structure have long since mentally marked the lines of segregation. And this is not by accident that these bridges come with this complex psychology.

In the Jim Crow era it was clear that a Mexican American’s place downtown was as the help, but not for recreation and pleasure. While the older generation tended to abide by this apartheid, it was the youth who would challenge these boundaries and dare to take claim to the city that they felt was just as much their as everyone else; which came with backlash, as witnessed during the notorious beat-downs of the so-called Zoot Suit Riots.

Since then legal segregation has ended, yet the racial and economic divide here has only grown.

Therefore for generations of youth, our coming here has been a challenge to the boundaries of the racial and class divide which has defined this area for almost a century.

So it should come as no surprise that my friends and I come to congregate here. To both feel free in our own domain, but also to challenge and push the boundaries of the ethnic enclave from which we come. [Learn about my friends and our long occupation of the bridge: “The Spot Called ‘Nowhere’ on the Sixth Street Bridge.”]

Though now as these landmarks are having holes ripped through them, its hard not to feel like they are demolishing part of our story.

Exploring Childhood Memories of the Sixth Street Bridge

For those of us who have grown up on the eastside, we have always had this complicated relationship with the bridges. I have so many memories. Some of them good and some of them bad, but they are all part of my life story.

As a child going over the Sixth Street Bridge into the westside came with a great sense of trepidation, for us to be crossing over into a world that was unknown to me and often seemed more hostile towards us Mexican Americans. And then passing back to the eastside – either going over the bridge or driving through her expanse stretching over the freeways of the East LA Interchange – I always felt this great sense of relief. As soon as we crossed I could exhale: I was home!

The first time I started going to the westside regularly was when my sister started chemo therapy for childhood leukemia back in 1984; she was four years old and I was seven years old. My sister was getting treatment at Children’s Hospital in Hollywood. This really amplified my anxiety, I didn’t like going westside.

Though as we came over the Sixth Street Bridge on our return I would get all excited and have my face plastered to the window. I was just enchanted with the area surrounding the viaduct. My mom would warn me to stay away from there, but you know as soon as I was old enough I started hanging out there myself.

Many years have passed since then, still that sense of relief that would wash over me while passing back to the eastside by way the Sixth Street Viaduct, that would remain until the very end.

What are your childhood memories of this place?

Related  articles:

The Shattered Sixth Street Bridge

Sitting on one of the broken stumps of the art deco pillars that once graced the eastern end of the classic Sixth Street Bridge.

Sitting on one of the broken stumps of the art deco pillars that once graced the eastern end of the classic Sixth Street Bridge.

At the eastern entrance of the classic Sixth Street Bridge there used to be two huge monoliths standing mightily like sentries at the gates of the city, at the point where the expanse of the bridge began its extension from the bluffs of Boyle Heights and jetting towards downtown Los Angeles.

These two matching pillars which stood there, they were part of ornamental walkways built into the structure. They were key elements of the art deco-streamline modernist style of the bridge. Wrapping around the sides of both of these pillars were long abandoned stairways which once lead to the both industrial and residential areas on the eastern bank of the river known as the Boyle Heights Flats.

shmustairsfreewayEventually these public stairways would be closed when the first primitive highway routes pushed through here decades ago.

And eventually these artistic features of the bridge would come to sit in the middle of the East Los Angeles Interchange, an intertwining network of freeways which would be built through our neighborhood two generations ago.

Which means they were visible to bridge traffic, and also to the freeway traffic which ran past and through the bridge. For us eastside kids these monoliths had always greeted our comings and goings. I have always looked out with great anticipation for these landmarks to welcome me home as we passed.

So I’m very pained to see them gone.

During the first two days of the demolition of the original Sixth Street Bridge it would be these areas of the viaduct that would meet it’s final fate. The part of the bridge which jetted over the freeways would be completely demolished. And it was these artistic elements at the head of the bridge which would be smashed to pieces during those first days. Leaving an almost apocalyptic landscape just to the side of these freeways.

In the evenings I often find myself making my way towards this spot. Staring out towards the horizon during sunset. Captivated by the beauty of the downtown skyline, as it rises over a foreground of broken concrete and terrible destruction.

In the evening I often see local young people and photographers coming out here too. To witness the demolition zone. And even to stand on the last remaining stumps of the art deco monoliths.

And as I sit on my piece of broken bridge in the midst of all this, watching people frolic, I can’t help but be reminded of similar stories I often heard from my elders from their youth. Of when the freeways came demolishing their way through the neighborhood of Boyle Heights, when they were kids in the late-1940s and through the early-1950s. And I remember their memories they have shared about demolition zones and the roads which were closed to traffic, and of how they often became vast playgrounds for many local kids. Coming out to play make-believe on top of the sleeping tractors, and to run and play tag in what would eventually become the middle of the freeways.

Like I said, I have often heard these stories from my elders. Though I never thought I would experience anything quite like it in my days.

See the video of this experience here:


Pictures from the demolition site:

The Demolition of the Sixth Street Bridge Began at Night

The end of an era comes to the eastside.

Looking through the first hole in deck of the classic Sixth Street Bridge.

Looking through the first hole in deck of the classic Sixth Street Bridge.

On the night of February 5, 2016 the demolition of the classic Sixth Street Bridge in Los Angeles began. And on that night I was there firsthand to capture this tragic point in our history.

Long had I been given notice to the people of Boyle Heights of its impending destruction, giving warnings as though the sky was falling for years. However, the realness of it all would not hit me until that night. As I looked through the dust and the sparks, to see great machines plunging holes and flooding light though the deck of the bridge; all over head as I witness this demolition of this most beloved landmark.

It was a night I will always remember and be haunted by.

See the full video below:

The Sixth Street Bridge has played a dual role here in our community; as a symbolic guardian to my native eastside, and also as a connecting point to launch our residents into society beyond the barriers of the barrio. They have served generations of ethnic minorities and working-class people of East Los Angeles, and therefore have played a profound role in our narratives.

And so much has this one bridge played a role in my own life story, that I have been compelled to be there each step of the way. As this beloved landmark met its demise.

Though a symbolic “groundbreaking” for the project had taken place a year prior, the project was already a year-and-a-half behind schedule on the demolition itself. And the demolition date was further pushed back and forth several times in the final weeks, before once again being delayed and then quickly rescheduled for that weekend.

The upcoming demolition of the Sixth Street Viaduct was the big news topic, and all anyone could talk about for a couple of weeks. When I arrived early in the afternoon, all the local new media was already set-up over the top of the freeway at the eastern end of the viaduct, near Whittier and Boyle.

As I was going about taking some final pictures and video of the still intact bridge throughout that area, I was asked to be interviewed by a TV reporter from ABC channel 7.

In recent years shut downs of major southland freeways such as the 405 or 101 had been popularly given names. Named like natural disasters such as hurricanes; names like Carmageddon and Jamzilla. This event would be preemptively titled by the city council as the “LA Slowjam.” Announced in what the media called a “dork-cool” video by Mayor Eric Garcetti, jamming with a band from Rosevelt High Schooli.

The Slowjam, a 48-hour period which would disrupt the traffic around the 101-Hollywood and the Santa Monica-10, forcing traffic to divert to the Golden State-5 and the 60-San Bernardino Freeways. Leaving traffic slow and the roads jammed all weekend long.

smileslowjamThe reporter asked me about this: “Have you heard what they are calling this one?”

“Oh yes, the Slowjam, it makes it sound like it’s a golden oldies weekend.” I say with amusement. Though I do make the point to then soberly interject, “You know, but really its kind of the end of the golden oldies for some of us on this side of town.”

Only hinting at the ominous nature of the drastic change taking place around here.

As I continued to linger into the evening capturing photographs and filming the viaduct, I struck up conversation with the demolition crew. They advised me of the general play-book and timetable for the demolition, helping me to plan out where to best capture it from.

It seemed that the best location would be from Clarence Street, just on the eastern edge of the freeway-interchange. I wanted to get a look at this area before it was ripped up. So in the final glow of the evening, I walked through there. Before making my way back to the neighborhood. [See the footage of this area before the demolition began: “Sixth Street Viaduct, before demolition began.”]

For the next few hours I was able to linger with my friends, who had long since taken up residence at the art installation of Boyle Henge at Boyle and Whitier Blvd. Near the top of the demolition site. We would exchange stories of the good old days and share a few beers there, before Zero and Illyria would head back home.

While I would make my way back to the bottom of the demolition site, joined by our friend Squared. And we would wait in vigil for the demolition to begin.

The 101/10 Freeway ramp at 4th Street and Pecan. The freeway was eerie and without any traffic, but that didn't stop people from playing there while it was shut down.

The 101/10 Freeway ramp at 4th Street and Pecan. The freeway was eerie and without any traffic, but that didn’t stop people from playing there while it was shut down.

And as we made our way back it was just astounding to see the freeways begin to close. As these massive highways begin to empty and grow silent. This was too amazing to pass up. Entering in through the Pecan Street freeway on-ramp, we would find ourselves running and playing tag on the freeway. It was almost surreal.

However, this cessation to traffic also meant that the demolition could now begin at any time. And all the demolition machines began to align themselves into place. So we began to rush back to the area of the bridge.

Arriving in the flats around through Pico Gardens – the housing projects up against this demolition and rebuild project – you could see the residents peeking out in annoyed curiosity. And understandably considering they would find themselves up against this construction project for the next four and a half years. Hearing it, breathing it.

I waved to them and said a little prayer for these families as I made my way by.

By this time Clarence had been shut down where the bridge spanned over it, making us take a familiar detour down and through my old stomping grounds on Anderson St.

Now this area already looked like a destruction site for some time. Months before the Jewish food and kosher wine distributors had been displaced from here. And now the site of what was once the Teva Foods, it had now become the base of operation for the demolition.

And this is where my footage of the demolition begins. At the gates of the demolition site.

When I arrived the demo crew was busily rushing about. And crews of classic car cruisers were lingering nearby the gate. The workers seemed surprised at the sight of nostalgic spectators, curiously waiting.

Waiting for damage. And we would certainly witness damage that night.

As it was explained to me by the demolition crew earlier, the demo needed to begin with knocking out the concrete sides and sidewalks. Then banging through the concrete decking of the bridge with machines from atop of the bridge. And then finally banging out the rest of the bridge from below. Breaking it down to the bare pillars.

As the crew started to lock the gate to begin their work, we started to make our way to the spot I had chosen to record. Making my way down Anderson to Jessie Street, to come around to Clarence Street.

And as we turned the corner, the real pounding of the demolition began. The first clouds of dust from the demolition began to kick into the air. And as the breaking sounds made by the demolition machines began to reverberate, channeled down the corridor of Jesse Street.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
Crumble. Shatter. Clatter. Bang. Bang. Bang.

And at that point I just couldn’t help but cry out in complete shock and amazement.

And I wasn’t the only person to be caught aghast in the terribly awesome sight of it all.

Even the police officers who were patrolling this night, stood in total awe. Looking up, transfixed at the sight of this calamity. For the longest time, standing completely still in the shifting light of the destruction. Several photographers would beautifully capture this moment of astonishment and wonderment.

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As I arrived at our chosen spot on Clarence Street – almost directly under the spans of the bridge being demolished this night – there were quite a few more people who had come out to witness and photograph this. Several local residents I recognized, trying to get a few good shots of it on film.

Even some of the workers from the wholesale produce facilities on the block, they began coming out to watch too.

And so for the longest time we all stood there just watching. Some standing there in complete silence.

As the night was drenched in flood lights and fierce sounds. Sounds of banging and clattering filled the air, causing the very air around me to vibrate and pulse with every blow of those great machines.As they pounded away at the concrete, and as they cut at the metal reinforcements revealed beneath it. Sending both dust and sparks into the air, which they battled with huge streams of water which kept sweeping over the sides of the now crumbling bridge.

And as the bridge began to break apart, I could see the first breaks of emotion on so many people’s faces. And their shock as we watched the machines knock over some of the remaining art deco light standards, sending them tumbling down with a metal clank and a pitiful crash.

At this point most people began to leave. They had enough of all this destruction.

Though we would remain with a handful of people for hours to come. The demolition had begun shortly after midnight. And it would take a few hours for them to break through the deck of the bridge.

And it would not be until they actually broke through the decks of the bridge that I would really begin to accept the reality of it all. When I could see the light shinning through the bottom of the old bridge. and those monstrous machines clawing through.

When I found myself right up against the very pillars of the doomed bridge, staring up and through the growing hole in the deck of the bridge. With concrete dust and sparks of metal flying in my face. Still as a couple of guys and I continued to inch as close as we could. Until we could no longer breathe from all the falling dust. Sending us retreating and gasping for air.

Now as bridge began to crumble, debris from the structure above began to fall severely towards the freeway below it. The surface of which had been covered with huge mounds of dirt in order to absorb the impact of the pieces of falling bridge. Saving the surface of the freeway itself from damage.

Once the upper deck of the bridge was throughly smashed apart, the demolition machines began to ascend the dirt mounds in order to demolish the bridge from the side.

At this time we began to make our way back the way which we had come.

Shmu at the demolition of the Sixth Street Bridge

Shmu at the first night of demolition of the Sixth Street Bridge.

Now once we swung around to Clarence and 6th Streets, we could see the machines smashing their way through the side of the bridge. Like mechanical titans, these massive machines relentlessly pounding a massive cavity through the concrete until everything around it gave way. Then screamingly cutting through and pulling apart the metal frame within.

We stood there for some time watching these teams of machines rip through the bridge, smashing from north to south. As the demolition swarmed directly over the East LA interchange.

We stayed there somberly watching until around 4:30am. Until the machines started to break all the way through the structure, bisecting the bridge. Then we would back our way out of the Flats the way we came.

Around that the time we were ending our nighttime vigil, Zero would be making his way to the bridge to witness the dramatic sight. In the pre-dawn hours before the city began to stir awake to the reality of the broken skyline. He would be interviewed by KNX 1070. Recounting his own memories of the Sixth Street Bridge and his difficulty to comprehend this destruction. His delusional sense of its permanence, meeting with the harsh reality of its demolition.

And so it was that we would leave the site of the demolition early Saturday morning. Covered in a layer of concrete dust and with pieces from the bridge in my hair. And emotionally shaken to my very core, I just couldn’t watch anymore.

The demolitions crews and their heavy machines would continue their demolition there another day still. Knocking down the entire spans of the bridge over the freeways. Then breaking apart the art deco themed entrance of the old bridge, smashing the pillar monoliths which stood there. And clearing the rubbish, to reopen traffic.

The “Slowjam” would end ahead of schedule, with traffic resuming on Sunday afternoon. Leaving a post-apocalyptic sight on the skyline and surrounding the East Los Angeles Interchange.

Though some time has passed since this event, it has taken a great deal of time for me to really emotionally work through it all. I just haven’t had enough words to describe the sights, sounds and the feelings which were dug-up that night.

And it has also been a near full-time task, keeping up with documenting the massive demolition project. And keeping record of the changes which are coming to the vicinity surrounding the demotion-rebuild of the Sixth Street Viaduct.

This was just the first blow.

Revisiting the Groundbreaking for the New Sixth Street Bridge

Memoirs from February 20, 2015; one year ago.

The story of how we protested the groundbreaking event

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“The New Bridge Sucks!!!” – With sign in hand, Jessie (Illyria Exene) Elliot came out to protest the groundbreaking.

When I arrived at the underside of the Sixth Street Bridge at Santa Fe Road a crowd was already arriving. And there in the expanse of the underside of the viaduct stood a John Deere machine for show, and row of golden ceremonial shovels.

This was the groundbreaking for the new Sixth Street Bridge Project. Though there was no real breaking of ground, just soil held by plastic sheeting for the officials to play with for show.

I had actually noticed this all start to come together the day before, when I found there was already a brand new excavator tractor to be found here; partially wrapped in black protective plastic, just sleeping like a beast.

This was the first vivid and tangible symbols of the destruction which was to come.

It actually took everything in me to resist the crazy impulse and uncharacteristic desire to deface this shiny little prop for the upcoming regalia.

Only two days before had it been announced that the city was planned a ceremonial groundbreaking and press conference. Which was announced only listed in the Los Angeles DT News website.

Though there was no real outreach to eastside residents to be part of this milestone event.

For this reason the event was filled with officials, developers and Art’s District businessmen. While from the Boyle Heights neighborhood there were just a few officials, and an assortment of high school kids also present for show. All of us lingering through the huge model of the bridge.

Just then I heard someone call out to me.

“You’re here! I was hoping to see some familiar faces from Boyle Heights.” It was our journalist friend Sahra Sulaiman, who I had met the year before at the unveiling of the new Sixth Street Bridge Project. [See the “The Inequity of the New Sixth Street Bridge Plan.”]

If there was one thing I have been good at, it has been keeping myself and my friends up to date on the news regarding the viaduct. Ever since I had learned about the reality of the upcoming demolition and reconstruction of the viaduct.

I had full intent of continuing to be there for every major step of this project. And at my side was my buddy Squared. Though knowing most of our neighbors had to work at that hour and how time impoverished our locals are, we were worried that we would be pretty much alone this day.

When just then the crowd of cheap blue suits seemed to part, like a shark was coming through, As Jessie came marching in, sporting a Mohawk and a protest sign saying, “The new bridge sucks!” Direct and to the point.

We embraced in the thick of the growing crowd. We actually hadn’t seen each other in some time because of a huge conflict in our circle a while back, but today we came together almost instinctively.

And so here we were waiting for the presentation and press conference, almost directly under the spot which we had occupied on the Sixth Street Bridge for years. In the cavernous underside of the bridge, where the curves of the bridge and the afternoon shadows came together to grace the light golden expanses. Just in view of the graceful steel arches, which had long been painted and repainted in a thick, faux blue resembling a copper patina.

Long had I swore that I would be present on this day to bark at some gutless bastards for selling out our community with this new bridge project.

And here in view off all of this which we were losing, the sense of righteous indignation rose as these smug developers patted themselves on the back.

This entire event was a farce. It wasn’t any sort of community event.

It was simply an opportunity for politicians like the city council members, to use a media covered event for self-promotion during an election season. And also get their name attached permanently to this project before the termed-out left office or i case those who were running might fail to get re-elected. Just a few steps away from the bridge model, Jose Huizars people had placed a table and were campaigning for him.

It was not long before the press conference was called to order. And well, we were pretty orderly… at first.

Until our city councilman Jose Huizar took to the podium.

At that moment Jessie turned around the protest sign. The other crudely mocking his inept leadership in this redevelopment, “No way José (Huizar).” With a mocking picture on it of one of the Olsen twins giving a raspberry. As Huizar looked up from the podium to take notice, he actually started to laugh and was momentarily distracted.

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As for me, while he spoke I responded to his trite remarks and platitudes. Responding back to his speech, rebuking him in a regular tone of voice, just up until his shtick became too much to tolerate. I yelled out, “You gutless thugs! You sold us out in the end!”

In response, you could see some of the people in suits turn around to voice and give thumbs up in support. For some people, it seemed like we were preaching to the choir. And it was only one person who in the end had a spasm; just one uppity young, property investor whining, “But I’m trying to listen!”

Though we would not be silent this day. Not by a long-shot.

Then everything erupted with my full on exacerbation and rage, following the very telling and completely shameful comments of Congressman Xavier Becerra. (House Dem, 34th Dist.)

He first tried to make his whole speech about boasting how some people in the federal government actually make things work, taking pride in this pork-barrel project they secured here. Saying that in the end this was all about creating jobs; even though we are already aware that the jobs he’s talking about account to about a week of work at most as part of a 4.5-year rebuild project, translating into no real job gains for our local working-class residents.

Then Congressman Becerra just couldn’t resist and thus showed his true colors, when he made the following statement to the crowd of suits and developers in front of him. He gushed that he had a secret “tip” for the crowd. As quoted by Sahra in StreetsBlog LA:

“Buy property real quick here” before the area changes and values go up. “This is going to be a great place! Buy now!”

[See: “The 6th St. Viaduct Replacement Project Officially Breaks Ground; Actual Breaking of Ground Is Yet to Come.” Streetblog LA]

And that point my frustration could not be muzzled. I cried out, “You bastards! You aren’t even bashful that your selling us out to developers!”

Now by that point the media had already begun to surround us. ABC, NBC and media writers from KCET (PBS).

What they expected to find was just a few punk rockers with off the wall things to say. Though once we explains what we meant, we noticeably effected the journalists. And each of them walking away focusing on a different aspect of the issues we had with this redevelopment, and focusing on the realities and sentiments they were unaware of.

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“A protestor from Boyle Heights | Photo: Carren Jao” (KCET)

Journalist Carren Joa from KCET – a PBS affiliate in here in Los Angeles – spoke to us most about the inequity of the new Sixth Street Bridge Project. Staking how offended we are that our neighborhood is getting none of the cultural and artistic redevelopment that we were promised us when this rebuild set out, promises made to appease the residents. Though now we are find out that in the end they are giving an amphitheater, art park and other impressive features to the newly gentrified Arts District. While leaving the Boyle Heights side of this bridge project – of which the majority is on our side – a barren corridor, vulnerable to aggressive redevelopment. All while displacing jobs and heaving hardship on respectable businesses in the Boyle Heights Flats.

We also made the case that the neighborhood of Boyle Heights has always been expected to take the brunt of aggressive and unpopular redevelopment. As often stated by Lucy Delgado and Gloria Molina, Boyle Heights has always suffered as the dumping ground for the public projects not wanted in other communities. That this minority, working-class community is once again being disregarded and disrespected in pursuit of Los Angeles’ notoriously unfair road works which have been imposed on us for generations.

She titled her article “Sixth Street Bridge Replacement Project Breaks Ground; Surfaces a Tale of Two Neighborhoods.” She wrote:

“Boyle Heights resident, tour guide, and writer Shmuel Gonzales takes an even more confrontational stance. As his friend holds up a sign that says “The new bridge sucks,” Gonzales explains, “Every day people on the other side [Boyle Heights] are wondering what’s going to happen. Businesses are anxious. We don’t know what the future is and the city didn’t give us any information.”

“Gonzales says that even today, residents of Boyle Heights still don’t understand that the Sixth Street Bridge, a “symbol of the Golden Age of Boyle Heights,” according to Gonzales, will eventually disappear. He adds that his neighborhood seems to be getting short shrift, receiving less that the amenities being planned for the Arts District side. He even notes that during the groundbreaking only about a dozen people from Boyle Heights were present. “We’re hopeful,” says Gonzeles, “but there has to be a dialog.”

“A bridge is always used to connect one place to another, but in the case of the future Sixth Street bridge, it seems that it’s ironically becoming a divisive symbol that needs to be addressed.”

When we spoke to KABC news we mostly spoke about the important role that these viaducts play in the narrative of the people of Boyle Heights.

I began to relate that their role has always been symbolic of our sense of place as people of Boyle Heights and the greater Los Angeles eastside. How these bridges are not just connectors, as they are also symbols of the complex relationship minorities have long had with this city of Los Angeles. To our eastside minorities who find much symbolism in our daily crossing over to fulfill the needs of a bustling city, to a westside we have long been segregated away from on the other end of these viaducts. They have become symbols of our sense of place. While at the same time these viaducts have also been symbolic points by which we could challenge the boundaries set before us.

For years I've promised you all that i would be there to bitch at some gutless people for not preserving the historical integrity of the area with a complimentary redesign.

For years I’ve promised you all that i would be there to bitch at some gutless people for not preserving the historical integrity of the area with a complimentary redesign.

I insisted that the viaducts have become symbols of the historic eastside, which we regard as our cultural heritage. For this reason they have long have been destinations for longtime resident and even the local classic car club movement, because of the classical style.

I also insisted that the Sixth Street Bridge which is neo-classical modernist in style in actually part of a progressive theme demonstrated by the various eastside viaducts over the Los Angeles River; demonstrating different neo-classical, deco, moderne, as well as gothic styles. Each one of the bridges following a theme, designed to be complimentary and to play off the style each other. I maintained my stance that to lose the Sixth Street Bridge as the glory of these bridges, for an ultra-modern monstrosity, takes away from the historical integrity of the rest of our gorgeous and time-honored viaducts.

In the end, I would get just a few words in to the nightly news on KABC evening news. When they reported that not everyone was thrilled about the rebuild. I was quoted as saying:

“It would have been nicer if they had taken account the viaducts around it and planned something that fit more close to us, that had a little bit more of those golden memories.”

And so we stood there for a while being interviewed, almost directly under the spot we had occupied as friends for years.

[See: “6th Street Viaduct Replacement Breaks Ground” (KABC)]

And so it was that we defending the honor of the classic Sixth Street Bridge and the historical legacy of Boyle Heights. Representing the local demands for respect of our heritage and for equity in this redevelopment. Insistent upon not letting the passing of this bridge go by without people understanding what we are losing here.

That evening I would be bombarded with messages from many friends who were excited that they had seen us on television! For weeks to come I was flooded with calls from so many different people sharing their own precious memories of the classic Sixth Street Bridge – some of them good and some of them bad, but all remarkably significant in their life stories.


Personal Reflections:

The memories of this day are very precious to me. Though this protest almost never happened. Not just because our circle of friends had already pretty much disbanded at that point. And not simply because this event came as such a surprise when announced last-minute, making it hard to schedule.

Other complications also hung over that day, both painful and ironic.

Immediately after the groundbreaking and press-conference at the Sixth Street Viaduct concerning our bridge being replaced because of “concrete cancer” and bad bones, I was scheduled for an appointment with a specialist surgeon in Long Beach. For him to take a look at my left hand that had been fractured for some weeks and to identify a large tumor in the bone; initially with the fear of cancer.

At first I was afraid I would be forced to sacrifice the groundbreaking, in order to make it all the way across the county for this urgent doctors appointment. But knowing how much it meant to meant to me, Squared offered to wildly drive me to both the event and the doctor.

So immediately after the groundbreaking ended, we rushed our way out to Long Beach. My head up against the window, heavy in thought and pained on so many levels.

The surgeon I consulted with was confident that it to be a most likely a benign tumor which has been growing outward from inside the bones in my hand nearest to my index finger. It has grown until the pressure of it was enough that it fractured the bones in my left hand, breaking it two places as it broke its way outward from the bone marrow.

It was determined that tumor needed to be removed, and the bone cleaned and rebuilt with bone shavings taken from a long bone near my elbow.

The surgery would be a success in the end.

However, the next year would be painful both emotionally and physically. As I tried to keep up with documenting the harsh changes coming to our classic eastside; all well nursing my arm in a huge cast. With my body and this bridge, seemingly locked in painful tragedy together.

[Read more about my recovery in my inspirational blog entry here.]


Pictures related to this post:

The spot called “Nowhere” on the Sixth Street Bridge

In the video featured in the last post you hear Squared telling me “they are up there” during the recording, referring to some of our friends who up at our spot on top of the bridge. All while he and I are still lingering below, before going up to the topside of the bridge ourselves. So let me tell you a little bit about it.

The choicest spot on the classic Sixth Street Bridge has always been the northwest observation point: a spot called “Nowhere.” For the past few years it the favorite spot for my circle of friends to hang out at.

The spot we call "Nowhere."

The spot we call “Nowhere.”

You can follow several paths to how the name came to be… and Zero most certainly does. Though the name has stuck because of one reality; the bridge is nether here nor there. It’s nowhere.

You see this spot where we congregate, high upon the bridge and just to side of it’s western arches is the exact point were this classic bridge transitions from downtown’s Sixth Street to the eastside’s Whittier Blvd. So this spot, it seems nether here nor there.

And this is especially true in the way that this spot has long been regarded by the city and police. Being located right in between to LAPD stations, Downtown Central and Hollenbeck, with the midpoint of the bridge being considered the division. Resulting in the top of this bridge being generally neglected by both. Each insisting they shouldn’t have to cross.

20160124_203549A reality which know all too well after often finding it near impossible to describe this place to the 911 emergency responders after accidents and crashes, because of the lack of a defining address.

This spot is nowhere.

And I guess some of these reasons also explain as to why my friends and I have gone mostly undisturbed in our years of occupying this spot.

And so day after day, evening after evening, we have made this place our destination. Here telling stories, listening to music, drink beer and blazing the hours away. Observing how the bridge seems to have a culture all of its own.

Now we really don’t know what we are going to do without it.


Here are some old videos we have taken at this place which is most special to us.

Believe it or not, I don’t have as many videos with them on camera as you would expect. They seem to be camera shy. Or more precisely, they shy away from a camera which they aren’t holding. Very Penelope Spheeris of them. LOL


See a related blog by my friend Zero-Renton Prefect, titled “Tales from Nowhere.

Related Articles about our bridge exploits:

Kosher Food Businesses Displaced for New Sixth Street Bridge

The Final Days of the Kosher Food and Wine Business of Boyle Heights

One of the leasts known facts about the community of Boyle Heights, is that until recently it remained a very relevant hub in the daily Jewish life. Up until the past month, our kosher wines and foods used to be mostly distributed from right here in the lower industrial section of the Flats.

In the shadow of the classic Sixth Street Bridge, sat two special Jewish business. Which were located in the lower industrial section on Anderson Road.

The larger of the kosher food plants used to be run by Teva Foods:

“At Teva Foods, we bring together the goodness of nature and the flavors of fine Mediterranean cuisine in every pack of our Hummus, Dip and Salad. We use only the freshest ingredients, handpicked by our team of experts, to make sure that what you eat is healthy and tasty.”

Many of our local residents were employed at this plant, doing jobs like peeling the raw garlic for their products. Processing natural products under the supervision of the Orthodox Union.

The other the business has been my favorite by far, Shalom and Son’s Wholesale Foods:

“Shalom & Sons is a family owned full service direct store delivery distributor of kosher and health food products in Los Angeles, California. As a company, we are dedicated to providing outstanding service, while responding to the every day needs of the retail and institutional industries. We currently service the greater Los Angeles area, as well as the cities of Orange County, Santa Barbara County, San Francisco, San Diego, San Jose, Arizona and Las Vegas.

“Shalom & Sons represents some of the largest food manufacturers in the kosher and health food industries, and is the exclusive west coast distributor of many kosher product lines…”

Though I had not met the owners of these business until recently, I have appreciated their presence here in the community for years.

Their facilities have long sat right along my favorite path I walk towards home. They have been a familiar presence for as long as I can remember. So you can only imagine my shock when I walked by one day and saw the Teva plant entirely demolished and hauled away.

Shalom and Son's Wholesale Foods, Anderson Street.

Shalom and Son’s Wholesale Foods, Anderson Street.

It was just the day after the groundbreaking for the new Sixth Street Viaduct that I noticed the demolition beginning in the area surrounding the footprint of the bridge.  Already busy were the sounds of tractors and hauling trucks. Contractors scurrying about. Electrical crews rushing as they redirect the old power cables.

In concern I went into the offices of the Shalom and Son’s to inquire of them.

“How is our business being effected? We’re being forced to move!” responded Shalom, the owner, in exasperation. “We don’t want to move. We’re very happy here, but the city has bought our land. We have to move now.”

Shalom explained that his business had been in the neighborhood for over 20 year. Growing from a small family business to becoming a major stakeholder in the kosher food and natural food industry at this site.

Their operations had take residency on both sides of Anderson Street. Their business offices and cold storage facility, being located at 638 S. Anderson Street. And across from them on the  west side of the street at 631 S. Anderson Street, was located their kosher wine storage.

“It was only the larger facility across the street that they wanted at first. Over there is where we actually keep the Kedem and all that.” Shalom said. Referring to the special kosher grape juice by brand, a necessary staple for making sacramental blessings over wine.

The cold storage facility of Shalom and Son's

The cold storage facility of Shalom and Son’s

This is something that I totally appreciate hearing about, as kosher wine is very special part of the Jewish tradition. It is a liquid symbol of joy, which is used in every religious celebration and life-cycle event in our tradition.

It is also something which requires special care in preparation and handling to maintain its kashrut – meaning it’s ritually appropriate status. This special care taken by Jewish producers and distributors also makes this a premium product of the highest order.

“In the end, we also had to get them to buy this building too.” Shalom explains, referring to the small offices and cold storage facility. Explaining that without their larger wine storage across the way, the smaller facility could no longer suit the needs of their mainstay business. Their operation was being divided.

He explains that with the compensation from the city they are planning on relocating to Vernon with tension in his voice. Like he’s painfully imagining the notorious density and congestion of that area.

I had to appreciate his sentiments. He is situated right here in the middle of the East Los Angeles Interchange of freeways, which sends traffic in every direction. Close to every on-ramp. Ideal for a distribution business like his. And also located in a less dense area, here in an almost sleepy underside of the Sixth Street Bridge.

Shalom, owner of Shalom and Son's. In his office on Anderson Street.

Shalom, owner of Shalom and Son’s: “Money isn’t the issue. When they give me money to set-up elsewhere in Vernon, I’m no better off. Because this is where I want to be. I’m happy here.”

Expressing even though they did buy out his property, he’s still not any better off than any other displaced person. Namely because this is where he wants to be. Stating if he wanted to move he would moved years ago. Holding his arms out he says, “Who would want to leave this? I’m happy here!”

As I looked at the amazing view just outside the doorway, I had to share his sentiments.

As I was visiting their site the business was in the middle of their biggest rush of the year. Everyone is rushing about their operation. We were just weeks before the Passover holiday. When their products are in highest demand.

Wanting to get out of their hair, I asked Shalom if I could snap a photo of him for my historical archives. He smiled for the camera. And I shuffled on my way.

See my very impassioned video, taken immediately after my visit:

This area of the surrounding the Sixth Street Viaduct is going to continue to change dramatically in the weeks to come. As businesses are finished being cleared to make way for the upcoming bridge demolition of the bridge above. The changes are breathtaking.

The location of the kosher food and wine fascilities: In red are the sites which have already been demolished.

The location of the kosher food and wine facilities: In red are the sites which have already been demolished.

The lots where Shalom and Son’s and Teva used to operate will become the storage and processing sites for the rubble from the bridge demolition. As the city agree to restrict the processing to the Boyle Heights side of the river, and not on the already gentrified downtown Art’s District side.

It should also be noted that this is not the only lopsided concession to the downtown Art’s District. which secured an amphitheater and some sort of arts park feature in their area’s redevelopment.

The land here on the much larger east side will remain greatly undeveloped as open fields and bike paths. With only an afterthought of an soccer field feature being planned for the empty field left in and near the footprint of the bridge. [See “The Inequity of the New Sixth Street Bridge Plan.“]

In the most typical fashion and according to the way this community has always been treated, the city is taking what it wants for its roads here and is carelessly tossing aside the rest.

And so we see right before our eyes, the past revisiting us. As the major Jewish businesses of the area are once again leaving the neighborhood, for no other reason than being displaced by road works.

Shalom and Son's Wholesale Foods, Anderson Street, Boyle Heights Flats. The larger building on the left of was the kosher wine facility, on the left is their old offices.

Shalom and Son’s Wholesale Foods, Anderson Street, Boyle Heights Flats. The larger building on the left was their kosher wine facility (now demolished), and on the right is their old offices.

For many years the subject of Boyle Heights had fallen out of the public consciousness. Few people seemed to remember the old neighborhood until recent years. That doesn’t mean there wasn’t a Jewish presence proudly doing business here all along.

Often times I have traveled all over Los Angeles, to enjoy and also lead Jewish ritual. And most often as I introduce myself, people have seemed shocked that I come hailing from Boyle Heights

A neighborhood which is tarnished, if not discounted entirely as less than “kosher” (on many levels) in many people’s minds.

In retort I always was armed with, “Boyle Heights is plenty kosher! You’re wine here for this simcha (joyous occasion), makes its way to this and every table in the area by way of our neighborhood.”

I’m really going to miss saying that!

Thank you to Shalom and Son’s and Teva Foods. For over twenty-years of service to the Boyle Heights community.

To see what the area was like before the demolitions, see “Under the 6th Street Bridge (LA Bridge Series – Part I).”

Recommended Articles:

The Inequity of the New Sixth Street Bridge Plan

A community organizer’s account of the debut for the new Sixth Street Bridge Project – October 6th, 2014

The Classic Sixth Street ViaductBefore I went to the city planning meeting that day, I just had to take one more wide look of this Sixth Street Viaduct. Watching her from the distance of the Seventh Street Bridge, I somberly took in full view of the crumbling Sixth Street Bridge there in the middle of it all. I needed to see the activity and the interconnectivity she provides for this community, just to keep the subject in perspective.

The viaducts of the Los Angeles river are an integral part the city, more than many people realize at first. These structures here were created not just to traverse the river, but also to serve as essential corridors for our local freeways. And also for providing passage for all our local commercial and passenger trains; the Amtrak and Metrolink trains, being among them.

My personal favorite of them is the Sixth Street Viaduct. Almost everyone in the city commutes over, under and through this structure on a regular basis. And so it has been for as long as any of us remember, that we find our goings and comings from the city greeted by the glory of this bridge and her arches.

And this bridge has also become the primary hang-out for my friends and I over the years. A part of our city infrastructure we feel most connected to. Most often taking our spot at the observation point on the north end of the pedestrian walkway. From here we have always watched and reflected upon this great city. It is almost hard for us to imagine the city landscape without her.

The historic Sixth Street Viaduct which has graced the city skyline since 1932 has been scheduled for demotion and replacement. As for many years there have been concerns about the structural integrity of the bridge.

Broken Sixth Street Bridge BeamsIndeed, history tells us that within the first 20 years of the bridge being built the concrete of the structure began to suffer terrible damage. The consequences of badly mixed concrete in the construction, utilizing a poor choice of sand aggregate in the mixture. The grains of sand and the concrete-mix having a fatal reaction when repeatedly exposed to water over time, causing the mixture to produce a corrosive gel, as the sand grains swell with moisture. The concrete eventually becoming brittle enough to crack, separate and fall away. A condition called alkali-silica reaction, or “concrete cancer” by the engineers.

The bridge is literally crumbling and melting away. This is a serious crisis, for certain.

But I’ll tell you the truth: I have never seen anything as broken and damaged as the politics which surrounds the entire rebuilding project for the Sixth Street Viaduct. This has been what I have found most alarming here.

Let us consider the project, and all its implications. We are talking about a reconstruction project which when originally proposed it was estimated to cost at around $140-million dollars, which has since morphed and ballooned into over $440-million; a project which is consuming 2/3rds of the entire infrastructure development budget of the City of Los Angeles. And yet for all the money committed, this bridge project remains the most egregious symbol of inequity in the current city redevelopment.

Here we are at the start of another building project here which is wrong from the beginning. With the current failures of this project reflecting the deafness of both the civic and neighborhood council leaders. This all clearly demonstrating the complete failure on the part of our local leaders across the board to advocate for the needs our disadvantaged community which is most effected by this project; the neighborhood of Boyle Heights.

So here I gathered my thoughts here for a few moments. And then finally walked my way from the viaduct and over to the local magnet school which was hosting the community forum for the Sixth Street Viaduct Replacement Project. A much-anticipated update from the city and the contractors, regarding the demolition and rebuilding.

And as I walk up to the entrance I run into the Los Angeles City Council member for this district, Jose Huizar. We pass with barely a pleasantry, greeting and parting abruptly.

Actually I think the same can be said for his appearance at this meeting in general. His very presence at the community forum was short and abrupt. Excusing himself for another hearing after a few short words, and conveniently not having to be present to answer for any of the community concerns regarding the project.

As the community members began to pile in to a room mostly filled with suits and contractors, we also joined them; my local companions and I. This was not our first time at the rodeo, but even we were shocked by the fruitlessness of this forum.

Huizar came with his usual attempt at charm and carefully expressed sympathy over the loss of this iconic bridge, though in the end all he did was do political nodding and offered little of substance. He had a few nice things to say which I appreciated, about developing the art of the space and reusing materials from the historic bridge. The latter of which I believe is the most sincere.

What I found troubling was one of his last and briefest points to address, regarding the redevelopment of the underside of the bridge. In which he credits his office with securing $1-million for the construction of a “soccer park” on the cleared land underneath the bridge.

As he mentioned this my eyes were drawn to the diagrams and maps, to take notice how the businesses in the Boyle Heights Flats are effected. Only to notice many cleared away in the new renderings. I know the area very well. And every single business which they are replacing with just grass there in their diagrams.

In reality, they are not adding much more than white lines and adding two words to the remaining open field, and it thus becomes a “soccer park.”

Now how is that a community organizer like myself, in a Latino community, is opposed to this? My opposition is to a clearly mindless form of ethnic pandering here. And my scorn is for the cheap and token redevelopment feature aimed to pacify Latino objection to a highly unpopular redevelopment project. A typical move which is not just cynical, but also inequitable.

What completely amazed me was that just a year before at similar public briefing and forum hosted by Huizar’s office the city had warmed us all over with emphasizing that the bridge was to be transformed into a destination on both banks, with active artistic and cultural components. Stating that this all needed to be equitable and integral to the space, so as not to feel like an afterthought.

[Citation: See video of the December 11, 2013 meeting; citing Felicia Filer, Department of Cultural Affair. My favorite part is this, “There are so many different areas on the project in which public art happen. Where art can happen and future art programming. We wanted to look at the project holistically and cohesively, so that wherever opportunities are they tie together, so that it feels like a plan and not an afterthought.” Felicia Filer, Department of Cultural Affairs. I would say we are all in agreement with her, which is why it is shocking they have in the end planned nothing significant in terms of integrated programmable artistic and cultural space on the eastern side of the bridge.].

However, now what we had being presented to us was far less than carefully balanced. A revelation that would further be compounded as the city planners and engineers unveiled the model and animations for the new Sixth Street Viaduct. Complete with an amphitheater and an “arts park” to be constructed on the now gentrified Art District side of the bridge, on the western bank of the Los Angeles River.

While as for their plans for under the much larger Boyle Heights span, so far all they had to show for was an afterthought of a soccer field feature being represented by a piece of green construction paper under their model of the eastern span of the bridge; in the struggling minority community on the other end.

Very much an afterthought and point of disregard, as revealed by the words of Huizar himself: “We recently also awarded, through some of the advocacy of my office, a million dollars for a soccer field on the bottom of the Art’s District side, right?” To the solicited correction of his staff, he snapped back, “… Boyle Heights side. Right. Boyle Heights side.”

The viaduct of today is just about 2/3 of a mile long; 3500′ of bridge, with 400′ of twin double steel arches spanning over the river where the bridge slightly curves southwest as it extends towards downtown LA. The painted bluish-gray arches standing 40′ high, are the most beloved accent of the bridge.

The old bridge was designed at the height of the Art Deco era. The design shows both Art Deco and streamline Moderne themes, the first bridge of it’s kind. Indeed each of the bridges have a unique theme to them. Some of them neo-Classical like the First Street Bridge, and others are Gothic Revival like the nearby Fourth Street Bridge. All of them made to play off of and accentuate each other.

This motif has great historical significance to us locals, in providing functional and yet comfortingly classic atmosphere to our area. For these reasons, the Sixth Street Viaduct is designated as Historic-Cultural Monument #905 by the California Register of Historical Resources.

The bridge of the future is tremendously different. As the civil engineers spoke, we all stared eagerly at the scale model which took up the whole auditorium. This new design being a great departure from the current architectural theme of the area, and also from the previous design plans. Almost nothing of the original bridge and charms were retained, except for an embellished stream of integrated arches designed to span nearly the full length of the bridge.

20141006_180624-PANOThere is no doubt that the new bridge design is bold and breathtaking. However, it is more stupefying when we see that they have diminished the historical integrity of the surrounding area in ways which appears to push a wave of sweeping redevelopment and character changes upon this area.

Considering all the other options for the rebuild, this most certainly is the best design. Early on in the design planning for the new viaduct, reproductions of the bridge were considered. Reproductions of the old bridge without any arches, a lackluster redesign which would have done no justice to the original Sixth Street Bridge. This bridge design as least incorporates an homage to the original arches. Which is quite meritorious.

And the bridge also does comes with some impressive features. The new Sixth Street Viaduct is designed to have protected bike lanes and paths. As well as a safer pedestrian walkways, secured by dividers. And circling bicycle ramps which promise easy acceptability.

As the presentation continues, we hear of how the “Ribbon of Light” theme for the bridge will incorporate embedded LED lighting. State of the art lights which can be changed in color in order to enhance the bridge, thematically or according to artistic tone. Mood light streaming along the face of the bridge and walkways. An admittedly expensive, but beautifying feature integrated into the bridge.

Most impressive though are the integrated artistic and cultural space planned for much smaller, western span of the bridge; on the Arts District Side. The amphitheater which will meet up against the entrance to the service tunnel of the Los Angeles River. Re-envisioning the almost urban cathedral nature of the underside of the bridge there as a programmable space. With an arts park which also planned for the adjacent areas.

These type of features are not by accident. Indeed early on in the process of the redesign the now gentrified Los Angeles Art’s District had demanded a percentage – I believe at one point they wanted as much as 4% of the redevelopment money – in order to apply to artistic redevelopment of their area. In the end, some effective advocacy for their community resulted in the incorporation of these grand features, the amphitheater and arts park.

The Green Construction Paper signifies the after-thought soccer field feature

The green construction paper signifies the after-thought soccer field feature.

What I find starkly contrasting is that for all of this light and programmable space being planned here, the only thing that this massive model has presented for the Boyle Heights side of bridge – for the 2500-feet which makes up over 2/3rds of the length of the bridge – is a piece of green construction paper on the underside of the bridge just west of Anderson St. An ad-hoc representation of their trite afterthought of a soccer field. This green piece of paper being just as barren and honest as the reality of that plan, just an empty green space left on the dark underside of their bridge.

For the first time I really felt the full effect of the dissonance which the community members around me also felt in the face all this. Even I began to feel the tension.

The civic planners have made great use of space in their designs for artistic expression in the gentrified side of town. And it makes great concessions to the newly arriving yuppies who need to feel that their own contrived being is in itself artisanal, who see their very privileged lives as performance art.

But what about for the genuinely culture rich Boyle Heights? What for the side which has a well established historical tradition of folk and applied arts? The east side – which has great historical significance for it’s rich ethnic and cultural character – what did we get for tangible programmable arts space? Gornisht mit gornishtun montón de nada… a lot of nothing.

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