One Thing I'll Never Say Again
La Brea Tar Pits, a big rear-view mirror in the middle of the city. Image courtesy freeimageslive.co.uk - Y-Z.
Like you, I have various spiels about historic places and preservation that I use for different purposes. It finally dawned on me that one of mine could not be more wrong.
In response to the typical refrain about Los Angeles having no history (or landmarks) to speak of, I’d smile and say,
“Well, it’s such a relatively young city—if we keep these places standing long enough, they’ll have a chance to get old.”
I’d say the same thing about the U.S. in relation to other countries. (As I write this, I’m watching a NOVA episode on restoring Notre Dame.)
As a native of Columbus, Georgia, who grew up singing “This Is My Country” and played Betsy Ross in the school’s Bicentennial program, I always considered America’s birthday July 4, 1776. What we now consider Los Angeles was settled as a Spanish pueblo in 1781, yet the vast majority of the city we inhabit today was built in the twentieth century.
So I didn’t think twice about characterizing L.A. and the nation as relatively young. Then I started listening to Indigenous Americans and realized my math was way off. I’d unwittingly yet summarily dismissed thousands of years of American history.
Of course I knew about Indigenous heritage. I’d visited Southwestern pueblos and monuments, cherished the work of John Trudell, studied A People’s History of the United States with the author himself. I live down the street from the Southwest Museum.
So why, for two decades, did I consider Indigenous heritage separate from my work in historic preservation? What do the Kuruvungna Sacred Springs have to do with Richard Neutra’s Kronish House?
In a city so focused on modernism and the recent past, I’m used to looking in a very small rear-view mirror. Now, when I think of the Kronish House, I also think of Gabrieleño-Tongva people who may have lived on the site many centuries before Neutra set foot on it.
As many of us rethink the notion of Thanksgiving, I’m grateful for the chance to relearn this history and finally integrate it into my work. Starting with a simple change in messaging.
The next time I hear that old refrain about L.A.’s lack of history, maybe I’ll say something about asphalt. Like, thousands of years before our ubiquitous freeways, the Chumash used asphalt from what’s now the La Brea Tar Pits to waterproof their canoes. Not as pithy, but perhaps a nice way to illustrate the continuity of place.
What would you say? Let me know in the comments below.
In Other News
Join me Saturday, December 5 for a chat with photographer Janna Ireland on her amazing book Regarding Paul R. Williams (the perfect holiday gift, BTW). Thrilled to do this with the great people at Angel City Press and Hennessy + Ingalls. Register here.
Check out the new episode of Save As: NextGen Heritage Conservation, a podcast I’m doing with the fine folks at the University of Southern California’s Heritage Conservation program. Recent grad Kasey Viso Conley talks about preserving recording studios and acoustic heritage, and I offer a quick tribute to Eddie Van Halen.
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