| Robert Pacheco Photography | |||
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Downtown L.A....Who Needs It? Page Two
circa 1970's
Photos And Words Copyright Robert Pacheco click on image to enlarge
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On Hill Street, a staggering, rumpled, tooth-less old man is stopped
by two policemen. One of the policemen says, "How far do you
have to go? Where do you live?" The old man looking down at the
policeman's shoes slurs, "just down 2nd Street, sir." The policemen
exchange a glance. Then one of them says, "You be sure to go right
home. OK?" The old man, still looking at the policeman's shoes,
replies, "Yes sir." He then staggers off down Hill toward 2nd. On
the street and out of jail.
A woman sits at a small table at the edge of the sidewalk on
Broadway. For $1.25 she will imprint your name and Social
Security number onto a metal card. She simply punches some
keys on a typewriter-like machine, pulls a lever, and your name
and Social Security number are embedded for life. From where she
sits she sees all of the people."The people downtown are very warm
and friendly. Some of them can be frowning with a long face and
looking very mean. But if you smile and talk to them, their faces
will brighten. They will talk back to you. Everyone thinks the next
person is mean, but he's not."
She's a grandmother, wearing a blue and white flowered house
dress. A white knit shawl is draped over her large rounded
shoulders,and on her broad lap rests a Bible. When she speaks she
looks straight into your eyes. "I've been preachin' the gospel since
a week ago last Friday. I was lying in bed, and the Lord spoke to me.
He told me to go out and be a preacher." |
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Sitting atop a large old wooden packing crate on Broadway, her feet
hang five or six inches above the sidewalk. As people walk past her
she offers them a religious tract entitled, "Are You Working For
WAGES? The wages of sin is death. Or Would You Rather Have A
Free GIFT? The gift of God is eternal life."
"God bless you," she says when people accept her tract. "God bless
you...God bless you...God bless you." A man in the crowd says, "I
don't deserve it." The woman's forehead wrinkles...She shows
special concern. "What's that you say?" Their eyes meet as the man
speaks again. "I don't deserve God's blessings." Matronly the woman
says, "Of course you do, you're a child of God."
"Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna," says a young man with a smoothly
shaven head, wearing a long peach colored sari that touches the tops
of his bare, rubber thonged, feet. A string of bells, tied around one of
his ankles, jingles and jangles as he walks. A member of the Krishna
Consciousness religious sect, he is handing out long sticks of orange
blossom incense, and cards with the words of the Hare Krishna
mantra written on them.
"Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare,"
chanting of the mantra is the recommended process for God
realization and should generally make you feel good, "Hare Rama,
Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare." |
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"Hare Krishna," the young man says, as he offers passing people a
stick of incense and one of his cards. "Hare Krishna...Hare Krishna...
Hare Krishna."
The grandmother who is offering God's blessings, sees and hears the
young man. Quickly her eyes are squeezed tightly shut, her face
becomes strained, as she goes into a rapid running together of words.
"The blood of Jesus, the blood of Jesus, the blood of Jesus, you nasty
filth, get that devil out of here, get that devil out of here, you nasty
filth, get that devil out of here, you rotten human you, you lying
one, you're a liar, you're a liar, you're a liar..."
Suddenly she pauses, her eyes open, and a smile comes to her face.
"God bless you," she says, as she returns to passing out her tract.
"God bless you...God bless you...God bless you."
"Hare Krishna," a gentle voice in the background says, "Hare
Krishna... Hare Krishna...Hare Krishna..." |
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A young man with shoulder length hair approaches, wearing a pair
of faded blue Levi's, and a faded blue Levi jacket. Selling a
communist newspaper, he says, "Let's put down the bosses and
have heaven on earth. What's wrong with that?"
"Downtown, it scares me, it's so crowded. The people remind me
of a bunch of little ants, all lined up and moving," says a young
woman, who tries never to go downtown. A younger woman, with
a similar phobia says, "I tell you whenever I go down there, I feel
like I'm being strangled. The crowds of people and the dirt!"
A man who before World War Two would frequently go downtown
recalls, "Downtown used to remind you of being in a city, only it
wasn't as crowded and dirty as it is today. The buildings were not
so tall, sunlight used to be able to reach the street. The air was
clean. It was a nice place to be."
On Broadway, a friendly newspaper vendor mentions an article
about plans for bringing people back downtown, and the
reconstruction of the whole central city by 1990, that appeared in
the morningTimes. He says "There's enough people down here
already. I'm glad I won't live to see it! But, I would like to see
them rebuild for those of us who have been here all of these
years." |
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Walking down Broadway is a slightly built woman, with short
blond fuzzy hair. At first she appears to be in her early twenties,
but at second glance, her appearance is that of a woman of
around 40. Her faded blue jeans are rolled up above her ankles,
her white t-shirt has a small hole in the left shoulder, and her
much walked in dirty white tennis shoes are worn with no socks.
She walks slowly and deliberately, dragging her right foot
slightly behind on the sidewalk. A deep frown causes her face to
wrinkle.
Approaching the friendly newspaper vendor, she shyly says, "Do
you know how far it is to the Goodwill?" The newsman
instinctively extends a hand to help her, but then holds back,
smiles and replies,"About three or four blocks" "Thank you,"she
says, and slowly walks away, among the many other people on
the sidewalk.
A short time later the same slightly built figure of a woman is
coming up Broadway. Riding on a pair of crutches, moving much
faster now. Her face is relaxed, and she appears young rather than
old. She stops near the same friendly newspaper vendor, while
waiting for a traffic light to change. The newsman asks her, "Do
you read the paper?" Timidly she shrugs and answers, "Yes."
The newsman then gives her a copy of the morning paper.
Working together, they devise a way to wrap the paper around
and through one of the crutches, so that it can be easily carried.
The woman says, "Thanks." The newsman replies, "It's OK, I've
got three or four extra." |
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Just then, the traffic light changes to "walk," and she begins
moving across the street. Before she reaches the opposite side,
her figure is lost within the crowd coming and going downtown.
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