One Echo Park gang member lay dead, another wounded, two blocks apart in an afternoon gun rampage that would claim one more life before it was over. That was 2009. Five years later Echo Park is enjoying a crime drop. Now the eclectic Los Angeles neighborhood, made famous in the film “Mi Vida Loca,” is watching property values soar and migrant working class families replaced in higher income ‘hipster’ tenants. One recent house flip sold for more than three times its purchase price of $300,000. The sale price fell just south of $1 million at $922,000.
“It’s the new Beverly Hills East,” mused Darin Williams, owner of the security company hired in 1994 to patrol the then crime ridden hillside community. “Back in the 1990s shootings with fatalities were not uncommon,” said Williams. “You wouldn’t see a single woman out walking her dog at night. You’d be crazy.”
Susan Borden was one of the original Echo Park Security Association members who hired Williams’ company.
“Crime in the late 1980s was very high,” remembers Borden, who moved to Echo Park in 1979. “People had to decide if they were going to leave or do something about it. There was no middle ground at that point.”
Now in her sixties, Borden recalls drug deals and shootings on her street. It was the era before the Los Angeles Police Department had fully embraced community policing. Their support for the citizen program consisted of little more than yard signs and a pat on the back according to Borden. Most of the work fell on community volunteers for the dozen or so neighborhood watch beats. “It was a lot of work,” said Borden.
One resident floated the idea of hiring a private security company to patrol the area. Some were afraid it would be oppressive. Residents also did not want to be profiled. After addressing concerns, people were willing to contribute $10 each per month. The group added up the money and went shopping for a security service. They had enough to pay for one night per week. They chose Friday, the night with the most crime. “It was a huge relief to people,” recalled Borden.
By pooling their resources, these working class renters and homeowners were able to employ a high profile private security patrol, something only very wealthy communities were using, in their struggle against the pervasive lawlessness around them.
Now there is the gang injunction, which makes it illegal for served gang members to associate with each other in public. Even so, crime in Echo Park, like Los Angeles overall, has declined every year for over a decade. With decreased crime comes economic development and gentrification in a town that has long been a welcome landing place for Mexican immigrants over the years.
“There has been a shift. I don’t think this is such a cheap area for recent immigrants anymore,” noted Borden. “So many people who were active in the 1990s have departed or moved away.”
When she arrived in town 30 years ago, she used to see women balancing bundles on their heads walking up the street, something she has not seen in years. Gone too are the ritual and ceremony of colorful motorcades, festooned with handmade tissue rosettes and paper flowers that would publicly present young women on their quinceañeras and newlyweds as they left the church.
That was an era when three generations all lived together in the same one-bedroom apartment and walked where they needed to go. Now that apartment is rented by one or maybe two people and they live nearly inseparable from their cars. Trendy eateries, boutiques and yoga studios have begun to appear in the business district of town.
“These things have definitely changed over the years. You don’t really notice until it’s gone,” reflected Borden.
Ari Bessendorf, president of the Greater Echo Park Elysian Neighborhood Council, defends the changes as something that happens everywhere.
“Yes there are people that have been moved out of apartments. This is economic level change. It is not racially motivated. People who are not involved with the planning process don’t understand it,” he said.
Bessendorf, a recent transplant from the East Coast, identifies himself as part of the yoga mat transformation too. He believes that public resources that were being used by lower income residents have been reduced due to federal budget cuts and theorizes that some of the people moving on are caught up in that.
He touts renovation as a positive thing. There is less graffiti. The strip on Sunset Boulevard is no longer a “drunken party zone.” He estimated that 30 to 40 buildings are sold and renovated each year but minorities are not being targeted even though they make up the largest group moving out of the city.
“All towns change. I came from Jamaica Plain, Boston, a diverse community in itself. It was founded by Puritans and since has seen many different nationalities move in and add to the history.”
Geoffrey Rhue, 52, and his fiancé, Joy Joaquin, 48, are a microcosm of the changes in Echo Park that see rents being raised and tenants having to choose between paying more or moving elsewhere. The pair has paid $1,500 per month to live in a single-story, 2-bedroom, 1-bath home abutting a semi-wild corridor since 2011. Next month the rent increases to $2,400, an eye-popping 60 percent hike.
“There is no rent control on single-family residences,” laments Joaquin, who came to the United States from the Philippines as a teenager. Even though she grew up on Los Angeles’ west side, her heart has always been in Echo Park on the east side. “I live and breathe Echo Park. The best people live here, the real people,” she said
Rhue himself has been moved on twice before in this way, once from an apartment in Echo Park and once from Eagle Rock. He was lucky last time to find another place in Echo Park.
While their current rental agreement includes an option to buy, Joaquin doubts the owner is going to be selling. Their resolve to stay is firm. “Even with the rent increase, we are staying in this house,” says Rhue. “Echo Park is our home. We are staying.”
Saturday, March 22, 2014
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Everything He Was Looking For - How a Blind Date became a Marriage Proposal in One Night
The first time Captain Mal Virjee set eyes upon his wife, Linda, they were on a blind date. There was only one problem. She was some else’s date. It did not take long for him to overcome this detail. “I concentrated on my date for about 15 minutes, “said Mal.
His voice is soft but clear; his accent the result of years spent in England and California after growing up speaking Urdu in Pakistan, his home country.
“Linda was much more important. “ After repairing a broken strap on Linda’s sandal and sliding it back onto her foot, he pulled her out onto the dance floor for a long, slow dance.
“The first dance I got with her and that was it. I wasn’t going to let her go.”
He proposed that night. By the time his ship set sail three days later he had his answer. Yes. The wedding would prove to be more of a challenge though. Linda still had to tell her parents about Mal, and Mal’s ship had no plans to return.
Mal was second mate in the British Merchant Navy when they met. Now 84, he still swims weekday afternoons at the local YMCA. Meanwhile Linda, 11 years his junior, has been writing down her personal experiences and stringing them together to tell her life story which began in Hermosa Beach, California.
She is a devoted and prolific raconteur. Having completed both her own and her husband’s stories up to the time they met in 1958, Linda is now penning their shared adventures.
“My kids don’t care about our stories now. So I’m writing it all down so they can read them after we’re dead if they’re curious,” she said with a laugh.
The Virjee’s home is bright, open and expansive. Large picture windows offer an impressive view of the Pacific Ocean, the Saint Vincent Thomas Bridge and the Ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach.
The story of a hunt is depicted in beige and black with pops of turquoise and red in the sprawling Persian rug that anchors an eclectic mix of art, objects, and creatures.
Two Chugti prints, inspired by Omar Khayyam’s poetry; images of the Buddha, Zoroaster, and the Unitarian Flaming Chalice; and a San Francisco art piece “Reclining Woman” by Kimball, oriented on its side because Linda preferred it that way; together reveal the extraordinary spiritual and intellectual grain of a unique couple.
Rebel, an 18-year-old Jack Russell Terrier, makes occasional rounds through the house. The metal tags on his collar jangle in time with his toenail clicks on the hardwood floor. An occasional whistle or screech from the family’s African Gary Parrot pierces the otherwise tranquil ambiance of song birds outside the open sliding windows.
Fifty-three years after they met, Linda confesses that they should have had doubts on deciding so quickly. But neither of them did.
Mal makes tea and serves it to his wife and the interviewer. He pulls out an ottoman from beneath the coffee table to use as a seat. Linda is reclining in an armchair with her feet resting on a foot stool. They are gentle with each other and often smile as they listen to The interviewer wonders if they can read each other’s minds.
The six weeks following the proposal were filled with phone calls and letters. Mal would call every time his ship was in port. The letters came every day. Mal had tried to coax Linda down to Mexico to marry him before his ship left port. “I can’t do that. I have to have a church wedding,” he remembers her saying.
“Besides!” Linda interjects from her chair, “I hadn’t even told my parents about him! My mother would have killed me!” Mal had it planned out. He was returning to London to complete a Master’s degree and didn’t want to waste any time. He wanted Linda to be in London with him while he went to school. Linda remembers him saying to her in a phone call, “When I get back to London I will send for you and we can get married there.”
By this time the hushed phone calls taken privately and the letters Linda wrote and received every day had given away the undisclosed romance. Her parents said “absolutely not.”
“You are not going to leave this house to go to England to marry some stranger. No.” Mal’s plan was not going to work. “I had given her all the choices,” said Mal. “Luckily enough I was going to be coming back because we got a charter to pick up cargo. Los Angeles was one of the ports. So we soon found out that we would be a couple of days in L.A. But we didn’t know what days.”
It turned out to be one day. The ship would be docking in the morning and sailing that evening. The wedding was on. The call went out. Only there would be no invitations because no one, including Mal, knew when the ship would dock. “We’ll know in time to cook,” Linda remembers her mother telling her sisters. Linda’s aunts were going to be helping cook.
Once Linda got the word from Mal that the ship was leaving San Francisco the phone tree went out to all the relatives. The wedding was on for Thursday. That gave them three days to prepare. “I borrowed …(a) car and I was waiting on the dock when the ship came in at 4 o’clock in the morning. I would have never advised my daughter to do any of this. When the ship came in I just waited for him to come down.”
Linda doesn’t remember being nervous. “It all felt normal,” she laughs. “I was more concerned about what I wore.” As Mal’s ship approached he could see her standing on the pier. “I couldn’t miss her.” There was Linda, wearing a peach dress with layers of petticoats “but not too many” underneath, white ballet slippers on her feet and a corsage of artificial flowers pinned to the front below her shoulder.
Mal, the second officer, was at the rear of the ship. Hooting, cheering and merriment were erupting around him. “Everybody knew what was happening,” smiled Mal, “even the Irish sailors knew.
“After the ship got all tied up, he came down and got me and we went aboard and I met Captain Bartland for the first time. All the guys on the ship were excited because they were coming to the wedding that day,” recalled Linda. The Captain broke open a bottle of booze, toasted the couple, and then gave Mal the day off.
Looking at each other, Linda recalls, “It was a busy day. It was a fun day and I was full of mischief. I wanted to drive but she wouldn’t let me, “Mal mused looking at Linda. “He didn’t have a license so it wasn’t a good idea,” said Linda with a smile, meeting Mal’s gaze directly but still speaking in the third person.
The first stop was morning Mass with Linda’s mother. They met her at church. “I made big points with my mom by going to church with her on my wedding day.”
Mal went with her, too. It was the first time Mal had ever set foot inside a church. “My mom didn’t make a big fuss. She just gave him a hug. Although she quite awake yet though either.”
Next stop was the bakery for donuts. Mrs. Eggers, the local baker refused to let Mal pay. She was pleased that she got to see Mal before the rest of the family saw him.
After breakfast with the family, Mal had his tuxedo fitting and then they both met with Father Edmond, the Franciscan priest who would be conducting the ceremony that day. A Catholic could not marry a non-Catholic in church without a dispensation given by a priest. Linda was Catholic. In order to satisfy the conditions to be married in the church, they were going to try to squeeze several weeks’ worth of counseling into one hour.
“If I can’t give you a dispensation to be married in the church, what will you do?” asked Father Edmond.
She told the Father that she would go to Las Vegas and marry Mal anyway. He said that he had better do something about that. Father Edmond began by explain to Mal that he was marrying a Catholic girl and that he must not interfere with the practice of her religion.
He then asked Mal what religion he was. Mal responded that he was Zoroastrian. The astonished priest exclaimed “Oh, my goodness!” He paused, sat back, opened up his desk, tossed all the papers he had assembled for Mal to sign into it and closed it. “You are not going to sign anything.” Then turning his attention to Linda said, “You, young lady, are going to promise me that you will teach your children his heritage.”
Linda explained, “The Priest had done his thesis in Theology school on Zoroastrianism. He told me that Mal’s heritage is much older than mine and that I would not have mine without his.”
“Then he hurried us out because he had to go to the Chancery office in Los Angeles because he wanted to get permission for us to be married in the church after dark because he knew he wouldn’t make it back in time to marry us in daylight.” recalls Linda. “And we won’t tell them about any promises!” the Priest added. “I was marrying someone and I had not the slightest idea what his religion was.”
Over the next few years of her marriage, Linda learned a great deal about Zoroastrianism. “I’ve read a lot of books. I spent time with his family. I’ve probably learned more about Zoroastrianism than most Zoroastrians know.”
“Roman Catholicism was a good place to leave. It gave me rules to live by. It felt very safe. I just grew and changed over time and didn’t feel the need for religion anymore.”
They raised their two children Unitarian. She cautions others that are considering marrying someone of a different faith though. “If you have very strong religious beliefs and your prospective partner doesn’t respect those, forget it. It’s too important. You need to be about compromise and find a common ground.”
They both agree that the key to a successful marriage is compromise. As Linda explained it, “Love is a giving up of self. But self never goes away. Because if your partner feels the same way you do, my God, you are both being fed constantly. And it grows well.”
There is a long pause as they stare into each other’s faces again.
Through a mischievous smile Mal says, “I know I’m right, Honey.”
“I know you know you’re right,” says Linda, smiling back at him, “even when you’re wrong.” They both share that laugh.
His voice is soft but clear; his accent the result of years spent in England and California after growing up speaking Urdu in Pakistan, his home country.
“Linda was much more important. “ After repairing a broken strap on Linda’s sandal and sliding it back onto her foot, he pulled her out onto the dance floor for a long, slow dance.
“The first dance I got with her and that was it. I wasn’t going to let her go.”
He proposed that night. By the time his ship set sail three days later he had his answer. Yes. The wedding would prove to be more of a challenge though. Linda still had to tell her parents about Mal, and Mal’s ship had no plans to return.
Mal was second mate in the British Merchant Navy when they met. Now 84, he still swims weekday afternoons at the local YMCA. Meanwhile Linda, 11 years his junior, has been writing down her personal experiences and stringing them together to tell her life story which began in Hermosa Beach, California.
She is a devoted and prolific raconteur. Having completed both her own and her husband’s stories up to the time they met in 1958, Linda is now penning their shared adventures.
“My kids don’t care about our stories now. So I’m writing it all down so they can read them after we’re dead if they’re curious,” she said with a laugh.
The Virjee’s home is bright, open and expansive. Large picture windows offer an impressive view of the Pacific Ocean, the Saint Vincent Thomas Bridge and the Ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach.
The story of a hunt is depicted in beige and black with pops of turquoise and red in the sprawling Persian rug that anchors an eclectic mix of art, objects, and creatures.
Two Chugti prints, inspired by Omar Khayyam’s poetry; images of the Buddha, Zoroaster, and the Unitarian Flaming Chalice; and a San Francisco art piece “Reclining Woman” by Kimball, oriented on its side because Linda preferred it that way; together reveal the extraordinary spiritual and intellectual grain of a unique couple.
Rebel, an 18-year-old Jack Russell Terrier, makes occasional rounds through the house. The metal tags on his collar jangle in time with his toenail clicks on the hardwood floor. An occasional whistle or screech from the family’s African Gary Parrot pierces the otherwise tranquil ambiance of song birds outside the open sliding windows.
Fifty-three years after they met, Linda confesses that they should have had doubts on deciding so quickly. But neither of them did.
Mal makes tea and serves it to his wife and the interviewer. He pulls out an ottoman from beneath the coffee table to use as a seat. Linda is reclining in an armchair with her feet resting on a foot stool. They are gentle with each other and often smile as they listen to The interviewer wonders if they can read each other’s minds.
The six weeks following the proposal were filled with phone calls and letters. Mal would call every time his ship was in port. The letters came every day. Mal had tried to coax Linda down to Mexico to marry him before his ship left port. “I can’t do that. I have to have a church wedding,” he remembers her saying.
“Besides!” Linda interjects from her chair, “I hadn’t even told my parents about him! My mother would have killed me!” Mal had it planned out. He was returning to London to complete a Master’s degree and didn’t want to waste any time. He wanted Linda to be in London with him while he went to school. Linda remembers him saying to her in a phone call, “When I get back to London I will send for you and we can get married there.”
By this time the hushed phone calls taken privately and the letters Linda wrote and received every day had given away the undisclosed romance. Her parents said “absolutely not.”
“You are not going to leave this house to go to England to marry some stranger. No.” Mal’s plan was not going to work. “I had given her all the choices,” said Mal. “Luckily enough I was going to be coming back because we got a charter to pick up cargo. Los Angeles was one of the ports. So we soon found out that we would be a couple of days in L.A. But we didn’t know what days.”
It turned out to be one day. The ship would be docking in the morning and sailing that evening. The wedding was on. The call went out. Only there would be no invitations because no one, including Mal, knew when the ship would dock. “We’ll know in time to cook,” Linda remembers her mother telling her sisters. Linda’s aunts were going to be helping cook.
Once Linda got the word from Mal that the ship was leaving San Francisco the phone tree went out to all the relatives. The wedding was on for Thursday. That gave them three days to prepare. “I borrowed …(a) car and I was waiting on the dock when the ship came in at 4 o’clock in the morning. I would have never advised my daughter to do any of this. When the ship came in I just waited for him to come down.”
Linda doesn’t remember being nervous. “It all felt normal,” she laughs. “I was more concerned about what I wore.” As Mal’s ship approached he could see her standing on the pier. “I couldn’t miss her.” There was Linda, wearing a peach dress with layers of petticoats “but not too many” underneath, white ballet slippers on her feet and a corsage of artificial flowers pinned to the front below her shoulder.
Mal, the second officer, was at the rear of the ship. Hooting, cheering and merriment were erupting around him. “Everybody knew what was happening,” smiled Mal, “even the Irish sailors knew.
“After the ship got all tied up, he came down and got me and we went aboard and I met Captain Bartland for the first time. All the guys on the ship were excited because they were coming to the wedding that day,” recalled Linda. The Captain broke open a bottle of booze, toasted the couple, and then gave Mal the day off.
Looking at each other, Linda recalls, “It was a busy day. It was a fun day and I was full of mischief. I wanted to drive but she wouldn’t let me, “Mal mused looking at Linda. “He didn’t have a license so it wasn’t a good idea,” said Linda with a smile, meeting Mal’s gaze directly but still speaking in the third person.
The first stop was morning Mass with Linda’s mother. They met her at church. “I made big points with my mom by going to church with her on my wedding day.”
Mal went with her, too. It was the first time Mal had ever set foot inside a church. “My mom didn’t make a big fuss. She just gave him a hug. Although she quite awake yet though either.”
Next stop was the bakery for donuts. Mrs. Eggers, the local baker refused to let Mal pay. She was pleased that she got to see Mal before the rest of the family saw him.
After breakfast with the family, Mal had his tuxedo fitting and then they both met with Father Edmond, the Franciscan priest who would be conducting the ceremony that day. A Catholic could not marry a non-Catholic in church without a dispensation given by a priest. Linda was Catholic. In order to satisfy the conditions to be married in the church, they were going to try to squeeze several weeks’ worth of counseling into one hour.
“If I can’t give you a dispensation to be married in the church, what will you do?” asked Father Edmond.
She told the Father that she would go to Las Vegas and marry Mal anyway. He said that he had better do something about that. Father Edmond began by explain to Mal that he was marrying a Catholic girl and that he must not interfere with the practice of her religion.
He then asked Mal what religion he was. Mal responded that he was Zoroastrian. The astonished priest exclaimed “Oh, my goodness!” He paused, sat back, opened up his desk, tossed all the papers he had assembled for Mal to sign into it and closed it. “You are not going to sign anything.” Then turning his attention to Linda said, “You, young lady, are going to promise me that you will teach your children his heritage.”
Linda explained, “The Priest had done his thesis in Theology school on Zoroastrianism. He told me that Mal’s heritage is much older than mine and that I would not have mine without his.”
“Then he hurried us out because he had to go to the Chancery office in Los Angeles because he wanted to get permission for us to be married in the church after dark because he knew he wouldn’t make it back in time to marry us in daylight.” recalls Linda. “And we won’t tell them about any promises!” the Priest added. “I was marrying someone and I had not the slightest idea what his religion was.”
Over the next few years of her marriage, Linda learned a great deal about Zoroastrianism. “I’ve read a lot of books. I spent time with his family. I’ve probably learned more about Zoroastrianism than most Zoroastrians know.”
“Roman Catholicism was a good place to leave. It gave me rules to live by. It felt very safe. I just grew and changed over time and didn’t feel the need for religion anymore.”
They raised their two children Unitarian. She cautions others that are considering marrying someone of a different faith though. “If you have very strong religious beliefs and your prospective partner doesn’t respect those, forget it. It’s too important. You need to be about compromise and find a common ground.”
They both agree that the key to a successful marriage is compromise. As Linda explained it, “Love is a giving up of self. But self never goes away. Because if your partner feels the same way you do, my God, you are both being fed constantly. And it grows well.”
There is a long pause as they stare into each other’s faces again.
Through a mischievous smile Mal says, “I know I’m right, Honey.”
“I know you know you’re right,” says Linda, smiling back at him, “even when you’re wrong.” They both share that laugh.
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