This post was separated by it's technically challenged author so I'm going to drag you through the house again, I hope you don't mind. We are starting at the front door, through the living room and dining room, into the kitchen and out the back door. I wrote about the first owners and how happy I thought they were, well the second owners I'm not so sure. We bought the house from an elderly women who lived here once with her husband and children when they bought in the early sixties, when the threat of a freeway dropped the price of real estate to a record low. The Santa Monica freeway was going to connect with the Hollywood freeway cutting right through the neighborhood, luckily it was stopped saving this area of Hollywood from a dismal future. I mention the elderly women unhappiness because of the condition of the house, all the windows had bars or nailed shut, water damage had created huge holes in ceiling and on the walls and a rat infested garage. There was no garden or even any evidence of ever being one. I was told by the neighbors that her children had money, so it's a big mystery why and how, she lived like she did. I do know she didn't want to move and that her children pressured her to sell. After moving she returned twice. She was sweet, with her cane, walking around, gazing at the changes we made, not saying much. I was told she died one year later. In the garage I found a few photos, a blue chandelier crystal, a shovel, and many rats. The blue crystal is hanging with the others, in the living room on a chandelier, and that's where it will stay.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
My father was not an American hero and yet he was. In 1944, he found himself being shipped off to war, to the Pacific, from the Philippines to Okinawa. HBO's miniseries, "The Pacific," has reminded me once again what my father had to endure. The actors look so much like him, I see him and I'm in shock and in awe. I'd like to think these few photos are of his good days. Laying on the beach, smoking his pipe on a break from work duty or on leave posing in his uniform. I have left out the horrible photos of death and destruction and there are many. When he returned to the United States he came back suffering with nightmares, thin, and with a skin disorder he called Jungle Rot. When my father returned he also came back proud. Now at 88 years old with shadows that were once memories he is a hero, an American hero.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Here is the living room and dining room of our Hollywood house showcased on Apartment Therapy. The deed states the house was built in 1922, other papers found stated 1924 and 1927, so just think cable cars and silent movies, If you knew my skinny narrow driveway you would for sure think cable cars. The style of the house is Spanish Colonial which was common at the time and location in this area of Hollywood. The cable car line was only a few blocks away making it easy for the anyone working at the studios to get to work. The Gordon's, the first owners, had the house built as well as the one next door. I like to think Mr. Gordon built many of the sets for movies like The Tramp or the original Ben Hur all the while Mrs. Gordon was doing Greta Garbo's hair and make up. I think they were happy. How do I know, I don't, it's just a feeling. There is light in this house that somehow lifts you up. That light got them through the Great Depression and now that light is getting us through the great recession. Like people in history, like the Gordon's, we will be someday Hollywood history.