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The railroad united the sophisticated eastern
culture with the wild west. It was built by immigrants which were
mostly Chinese and Mexicans that laid railroad tracks over the High
Sierras and Rocky Mountains into the plains of the Midwest. And, in
some cases they tenaciously bored tunnels through the mountains to lay
their railroad tracks.
Southern Pacific
Switch & Marker
Near N. Main St
Throughout the rail network, there were machine
shops and rail yards to support the railroad. These facilities
maintained and managed the distribution of locomotives, box cars, and
cabooses. They were constantly serviced, taken apart and put back
together to keep them running. The Southern Pacific Taylor yards and
shops were located at the south end of Clover Street in Lincoln Heights,
a community just northeast of the Los Angeles civic center. It
attracted many workers in the local area that consisted of machinists,
apprentices, their helpers, and laborers. It was a convenient area to
live. In the morning many of the workers in their overalls would walk
from their nearby homes to the shop swinging their lunchboxes in rhythm
with their stride. At 7AM the Espee whistle could be heard throughout
the neighborhood signaling the start of the work day. On the weekends
with a 15-cent token one could take the streetcar downtown to go
shopping at the major department stores, go to the movies at the big
theaters, or take in a live show at the Million Dollar Theater.
Otherwise, one could just walk to the Starland Theater on Broadway a few
blocks away or to the San Carlos Theater east of Daly St on Main. On
Sunday, after going to Mass at Our Lady Help of Christians, many would
take the streetcar east to Lincoln Park. They would get their thrills
on the various rides of the amusement park, try to catch the gold ring
on the merry-go-round, or just go fishing at the lake. Sweethearts
might rent a boat and cruise the lake taking care not to scare the fish
away. Unfortunately, there weren't many places for the fish to hide in
the small lake. Occasionally, classical or Mariachi music would radiate
from the bandstand north of the boathouse.
Lincoln Park Carousel
The "merry-go round" destroyed by fire in 1976.
The Clover St community was bounded by the
railroad on the south, the L.A. River on the west, North Broadway north,
and Daly St east. It was a close-knit community and everyone knew
everyone else. Houses were seldom locked. Of course not everyone was
rich with material things and there was really no reason to lock
anything. Nevertheless, if you had a bike, it was prudent to lock and
secure it at night. Although protected by natural boundaries, outsiders
may sometimes wander through the streets at night.
In the afternoon, many of the housewives would
visit each other borrowing that cup of sugar for an excuse to trade
recipes and gossip. There was always a pot of beans brewing on the
stovetop and the roller pins flour dusted in preparation for making a
fresh batch of tortillas.
Mrs. Bernarda Jenkins (1935)
Clover Street
resident
Albion St Elementary School was nearly at the
center of the community, which made a short walk for all of its
students. It was one of the first schools to be built in the city of
Los Angeles in 1891 opening a year later. The wooden schoolhouse was
initially on Albion St, but later new classrooms were added and the
administrative offices were moved to Avenue 18. But, it still retained
the original name. Every morning the students would assemble, pledge
allegiance to the flag, and sing America. There were after school
activities like kick ball, softball, and outdoor basketball. These were
complemented with activities at the Downey playground across the
street. During the summer there was baseball. In the fall, kids were
running around the field playing touch football. The playground
provided plenty of materials to build kites to catch the winds during
Easter vacation. After awhile, the telephone wires were cluttered with
kites and their towlines intertwined communication wires filled with
chitchat. But, the kids would just go back to the clubhouse, get some
more paper, balsa wood, string and wait for the wind to kick up again.
Kindergarten Class (1956)
Albion Street Elementary School
The Espee railroad tracks ran along the LA River
on the west edge of the playground and underneath the Spring St bridge.
During the Depression and after the war many men would ride the rails
traveling around the country as far as the trains would take them. This
was a premier stop for them and the bridge provided shelter. The
restrooms of the nearby playground were convenient. There was also the
aroma of those beans brewing in the air. A knock on a nearby home and
there was a burrito for dinner with homemade beans and fresh tortillas.
Many of the young boys that graduated from Albion
and proceeded to Nightingale Jr High were tempted to ride the rail to
Figueroa St. However, this never became a habit with anyone. There
were always stories of someone getting tangled up and forever living
with the nickname of peg leg.
Los Angeles River about 1930
North Broadway and
Spring St.
meet at upper right.
After graduating from Nightingale, the students
would continue their education at Lincoln High School at the east end of
North Broadway. Besides developing young minds, there were many social
events like Sock Hops and Sports Nights. There was the acrobatics of
the jitterbug in the late forties, the Latin rhythms of Richie Valens
and La Bamba in the fifties, and the gyrations of the twist in the early
sixties. In the fall, football was the event. Although the teams were
competitive, the school was small and it was a challenge to develop
championship teams. Nevertheless, on occasion the right mix of players
and coaches would come together and the school would march to the city
playoffs. Skippy Giancanelli returned to his alma mater and did just
that in the mid sixties. His team faced Manual Arts, the then current
football powerhouse from Southeast Lost Angeles. Manual Arts would
march down the field with ease, but with their backs against the wall,
the gritty Tigers held the line and turned the Toilers away without a
score. It was a spectacle. The bands were playing challenging each
other with Louie Louie and the theme from Peter Gunn. The crowds were
cheering, dancing in their seats doing the hand jive following the lead
of the cheerleaders below. The game ended in a 0-0 tie. The win was
given to the Toilers, because of the tie breaking rules declaring the
win to the team with the most yards inside their opponent's 20-yard
line.
Kenny Washington
Lincoln Alumnus - and from
the neighborhood
All-American UCLA 1939
Most of the homes had cellars. Some kids liked to
hang out and there they would assemble. In an effort to be cool like
James Dean or Humphrey Bogart, secluded in the cellar, they might
experiment with cigarettes and sneak a Lucky Strike from an uncle or in
some extreme cases grab a Coors from the ice box. These experiments
were difficult to hide since a passerby could easily see the smoke
escaping from the cellar vents. Most kids didn't like the bitter taste
of beer or the pungent smoke of cigarettes and preferred getting an ice
cream drum stick or a nickel 8 ounce femininely shaped bottled coke from
one of the local stores and hang out in the cool shade of their front
porch.
Hidden at the south end of Lamar St is the San
Antonio Winery. In 1917 Santo Cambianica left his home in Italy and
settled in Lincoln Heights to open up the winery. While many wineries
went bankrupt during Prohibition, he cleverly survived by making
sacramental wines for the Catholic Church. His family still makes wines
for the church today as well as wines for the general public. It is one
of the last wineries in Los Angeles and has been declared a cultural
historical monument.
The houses on Clover St have been demolished. The
land was converted to parking lots for the Piggy Back trailers of the
Union Pacific railroad that bought out the Espee. Later, this land was
sold to The United Parcel Service, which built a distribution center for
their growing delivery service. The Golden State Freeway now borders
the east side of the community.
The aroma of frijoles de holla and tortillas de
harina are gone. But on a quiet evening in the summer, if you listen
very carefully, you could hear the sea breeze funneling through the
space between the buildings and trucks hauntingly whispering a faint
call, "Paco Paco ven a casa, vamos a comer!"
-R.G.
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