The Downtown Shuffle

2005-05-25T11:01:00.000-07:00

I moved into the Cecil Hotel on South Main Street on April 25, 2005.

Having lived in two residential hotels in San Francisco, I was surprised by the elegant lobby of the Cecil; it looked more like a boutique hotel. And the poor people I saw in the lobby and sharing the elevator with me did not look like they belonged in such an elegant lobby.

I thought to myself: the owners of the Cecil did not put all of this money into fixing up their lobby for poor people. They must have plans to "go boutique."

The surrounding neighborhood is gentrifying big-time. Two historic buildings on the same side of the street as the Cecil are being turned into high-end lofts and apartments. The drug dealers, scammers and hookers that I saw on that block of South Main will not be there once upper-income folks start moving in to the PE lofts and the building next door. This is great for Downtown Los Angeles, but very bad for poor people like me.

Anyway, I was getting little signals from the front desk of the Cecil that they were not too interested in allowing me to stay as a "permanent" tenant with all of the rights that come with "permanent" tenancy. The clerk who could not find a rental application when I first requested one. The fact that they did not request a fee for checking my credit report. The obvious delay in getting back to me regarding my application.

On the day I was supposed to stay or move out, the manager informed me that my application to rent was denied. I immediately knew what was going on: they had no intention of even considering my application; they were going to "go boutique."

Anyone who has ever stood at the edge of homelessness will tell you that being at the edge of the abyss is extremely stressful; I was no exception. I have a HUGE fear of being homeless. I lived in San Francisco and witnessed firsthand everyday in my down-and-out neighborhood the ugly side of homelessness. I do not know how people can live without a bed, toilet and all of the other things that people who have a roof over their head take for granted.

I'm lucky that I have a mother who has been there for me through good times and bad. I took a bus up to where she lives next door to one of my sisters and picked up her car so I could transport my material possessions to another hotel, if I could find one.

When I checked out of the Cecil, the nasty female clerk asked me "Is there a problem?" after I tossed my room key onto the counter instead of handing it to her. I said, "yes, there's a problem! The problem is what you people are doing to poor people!"

I went to the Central Library and typed out a letter to the Executive Editor of the Los Angeles Downtown News. I wanted to pitch a story to him about my plight. I told him that I was recently appointed to the Transportation and Public Works Committee of the Downtown Los Angeles Neighborhood Council (DLANC). I also told him that I am a transit advocate and that I love living downtown, but the Cecil is forcing me to do the "downtown shuffle."

I have not heard from the Downtown News yet. Maybe a lot of other people are pitching the same story.

Anyway, my first stop in the downtown shuffle was the large Hotel Hayward at Sixth and Spring. The hardened front desk clerk with an attitude problem informed me that there was no room at the inn. "You don't have a single room available in this entire hotel?" I asked. No, he told me, not a single room. In fact, he said, there was a waiting list. My heart sank. I asked him if he knew of another hotel I could try. He mentioned the Alexandria Hotel up the street.

So, I trudged up to the Alexandria. The hardened clerk with a bad attitude informed me that I would have to come back at noon to see if any rooms were available. The Alexandria is a HUGE, old hotel. No rooms available right now? I wanted to tell this surly clerk to fuck off, but I needed to be nice so I could stay in his good graces and get a room when I returned at noon.

When I returned, he informed me that he had two rooms available. He called the security guard over to escort me upstairs to see both rooms.

The Alexandria must have been the Four Seasons Hotel of its day. As an avid fan of historic buildings, I could tell from the decaying interior spaces of the Alexandria that it was once VERY elegant. Today, it is showing its age at over one hundred years old. The first thing that struck me was the high ceilings and the extremely wide corridors.

The first room that I was shown had dirty windows that looked out onto a large lightwell. The person in the next room was blasting music and had a sign on his door telling the maids not to enter. Not an ideal neighbor, I thought to myself.

The next room, on the 7th floor, had dirty windows that looked out onto noisy Spring Street and I could not hear noise from either neighbor. I chose that room.

The management of the Alexandria obviously doesn't want to put too much into the cleaning and maintenance of its rooms. One wall in my room looks like the last tenant projectile vomited onto the wall. At least I have my own bathroom, I thought, trying to look on the bright side.

My bathroom actually has something you don't find very often: a large window. As I take a shower, I can look into the historic building across the street. It is being readied for new apartments.

Intro to Tom

2005-04-29T15:48:00.000-07:00

My name is Tom Stanley and I just joined the stampede into the downtown Los Angeles rennaissance.

I am a Transit Advocate. I got my college degree in Urban Studies (with a specialization in Transportation Planning) from San Francisco State University in the mid-eighties. After college, I worked as a "Transportation Planner" for three transit agencies and one municipality.

I have had many letters to the editor published in newspapers (including the Los Angeles Times) on transit-related issues.

My current pet project is reviving the moribund plan to extend the Los Angeles Metro Red Line subway westward under Wilshire Boulevard; what has been dubbed in the past the "Metro Aqua Line" because its supporters (like me) want to see the heavy rail subway extended all the way to the ocean in Santa Monica.

I am a second-generation native Angeleno. My father Mathew (yes, spelled with one t) was born in 1913 in a boarding house on Bunker Hill in what was then a thriving community of Croatian immigrants in the area around Sunset Boulevard and Grand Avenue. My father's family also lived in South Los Angeles, Boyle Heights and finally settled into a house on La Veta Terrace in Echo Park.

While attending nearby Belmont High School, my father earned some money (which was turned over to his thrifty mother Mary) by selling newspapers to streetcar commuters at the intersection of Echo Park Avenue and Sunset Boulevard. His younger brother Jack also sold newspapers and once sold a newspaper to some movie star whose name escapes me.

My father graduated from Belmont and attended Los Angeles City College and later transferred to the fledgling U.C.L.A. campus in what was then far-off Westwood.

While serving in the U.S. Navy during World War Two, my father met and married my mother Silvia. Silvia was a native New Yorker whose father was born in Ponce, Puerto Rico and whose mother was born in Havana, Cuba (so I am half Spanish and half Croatian).

Anyway, Silvia and Mathew moved their young family from Long Island, New York to the San Fernando Valley section of Los Angeles in 1950. After renting a home in Encino, they built an architect-designed home in Woodland Hills. The family grew larger and moved in 1961 to a larger home in Woodland Hills right after I was born.

My father was personnel manager at the Bullock's Wilshire department store during the 1950's. In the 60's, he got a job as a housing project Manager for the City of Los Angeles Housing Authority. He managed three housing projects but his happiest position was Manager of Ramona Gardens in East Los Angeles. There, he helped residents take pride in their community and he was on good terms with everyone from the gang members to the police.

Mathew died of lung cancer in 1995 at age 82.

In 1975, my parents divorced and I and my brother moved with our father to the planned community of Westlake Village in Ventura County. I graduated from Newbury Park High School with actress Heather Locklear (I did not know her personally).

This is where my interest in public transit took root. My mother, who I was (and am) very close to, moved to a 2-story apartment in a charming old courtyard apartment complex in East Hollywood.

I was starting high school at Newbury Park and went to visit Mother on weekends by taking the Greyhound bus from Thousand Oaks to the old Greyhound bus station on Vine Street in Hollywood.

Sometime in 1976 or early 1977, the then-Southern California Rapid Transit District (RTD) began serving Westlake Village. I'll never forget how excited I was to see the orange and red bus stop sign sprout unexpectedly on Lindero Canyon Road in front of Von's grocery store (site of my first "real" job in 1978).

I switched from the Greyhound bus line to the new RTD service which, I believe, went all the way into Hollywood along Ventura Boulevard. I remember that the bus driver had to stop the bus at Laurel Canyon to check tickets because we were crossing into a different "fare zone."

I continued to take the RTD bus to visit Mother on weekends. While she was safely away at work as a Hostess at the Los Angeles Airport Marriott Hotel, I would explore the city by bus and by walking. A lot.

L.A. Urban Living

The Downtown Shuffle

Intro to Tom