Some of the most surprising and delightful things about running Facebook ads for my book, The Monsters of Chavez Ravine?
People leaving comments about their connections to the old neighborhoods where Dodger Stadium now stands. Someone’s grandparents lived in Palo Verde, like my mother and her family. Had I heard of them? (Unfortunately, no.) A woman shared that her father-in-law was an Italian immigrant who called the ravine home. Another woman commented that her grandparents, after leaving Chavez Ravine, bought a new home with the payout the city gave in a Los Angeles neighborhood not far from the stadium.
People have also been kind enough to share they read and enjoyed the book, which I so appreciate because this book is very close to my heart.
I treasure every one of these comments.
And then, one day, someone told a woman about my book. Turns out, that woman is Rachel Cantu, ten years old on May 8, 1959, the day of the final evictions in Palo Verde. Her family remains the most famous of the holdouts, the people determined to remain in their homes despite the powerful effort to drive them out.
Rachel kindly agreed to an interview. She also shared the picture on this post. I had no idea the L.A. Police Academy had a waterfall and gardens!
The interview appears in Latino LA. You can read it here: https://bit.ly/3uxAipQ
Supposedly my mom Madalena “Helen” Basta nee Garcia took piano lessons from a Professor Cantu in a house on Savoy Street off Bishops Road (near Cathedral High). My mom told this to Lawrence Bouett. Actually I’ve never discussed the Professor with mom. Have to do that. And read all of your stories.
So good to see all of the people I’ve read about from so many different places in your work.
Regards,
Victor Rini
Hi Victor,
I wish my mother was alive to ask her if she knew your mom! She lived on Bishops Road in PV. I emailed back and forth with Bouett several years ago, but I haven’t received a response to my most recent email so I wonder if he’s still active with Chavez Ravine research. His website is still up and running.
Thank you for reading my stories! I’ve loved writing them, and I’m contemplating a sequel to The Monsters of Chavez Ravine, set one hundred years after Lencha cursed the place (should it fall into outside hands), with the great-granddaughter of Trini as the main character.
All the best!
Debra
Hi Debra,
My mom and her family, the Garcias, (there were 7 of them) relocated to Solano Canyon from Calhoun County, TX in 1945. My grandmother Pilar’s parents had gotten there ahead of them in ’42 or earlier. They lived in a 2 bedroom one bath rental behind the Valentino Mazzarini Mom and Pop store on Amador St. So there were 13 people all told in that house in 1945. That was not sustainable so eventually the Garcias decamped to a rental of their own on Yolo Dr. Eventually a house became available for them to buy in the Spring of ’48 on Spruce St and that’s where they lived until the eviction in 50/51. They found a house and landed on their feet in Highland Park. That’s the house I knew growing up.
If you’ve looked at my Flickr stream, you know that Don Normark made a photograph of the house on Yolo Dr. And the man shown on the front cover of his book walking home is my Grandfather, Guadalupe Garcia. Normark also took a picture of Lupe from the front that you can see in many places, Normark’s obit at the LA Times comes to mind. Lupe worked as a stevedore at the Southern Pacific cornfield yard like so many others from those neighborhoods. He worked that job for almost 30 years.
I love that you mention so many familiar places in your stories. Like the French Hospital, where I was born in 1960 and my father, Victor Rini Sr. was born in 1940. Maybe you could include Capitol Milling in one of your stories. My father’s family were bakers by trade and my father owned and operated a small bakery and got his flour from Capitol Milling. Now that precious old commercial building has been redeveloped by the Riboli family of San Antonio Winery. The French Hospital will be something else entirely before too long. Times and places change but memories try their best to endure.
Best wishes,
Victor