A Walk Down Memory Lane
Angelino Heights is a glimpse into early Los Angeles history.

"Old buildings are not ours -- they belong partly to those who built them and partly to the generations of mankind who will follow us. The dead still have their right to them. That which they labored for, we have no right to obliterate."

-- John Ruskin, 18^th century theorist and essayist

It is a place out of time, tucked away and hidden from the regular "must see" tourist attractions of Southern California. There's no thrilling rides, cartoon characters or glitzy Hollywood stars who welcome visitors when they arrive -- only the quiet streets and a peaceful sense of a place out of time.

On a hill overlooking the downtown skyline of Los Angeles is a unique and rich destination that most visitors, and even local residents, don't know about -- no guidebooks listings or brochures are published about this place. Those who do find this neighborhood, curiously wonder if they've mistakenly stumbled through a time machine. For what they've discovered is a 24-hour a day living museum -- a reminder of the glory days of architecture and a more genteel way of life.

This is Angelino Heights, one of the early suburbs of Los Angeles, built in 1886. A cobblestone's throw away from Echo Park and Dodger Stadium, Angelino Heights boasts one of the highest concentration of residential Victorian homes in southern California. On one block of Carroll Avenue alone, 17 homes are designated historical and cultural monuments by the Los Angeles Cultural Heritage Commission.

"There is something very special about this hill," says Murray Burns, a resident since 1971. "It's a little part of Los Angeles we ought to know about and keep for our great-grandchildren, to show them how Angelinos used to live, and what life was like way back then."

Burns leads monthly walking tours around his neighborhood, pointing out the architectural designs elements, telling stories about the early days of Angelino Heights, and watching the faces of his group light up when they first see the gingerbread-styled homes.

It all started in 1886 when land developers William Stilson and Everett Hall filed for the subdivision of Angelino Heights. Situated above the noise, dust and irrigation ditches of the city, this spot was groomed to become the new upper-middle class enclave, second only to Bunker Hill in prestige and wealth. When the tract opened, lots sold for about $500, and the cost of building a house ranged from $7,000 to $10,000 -- quite a price back then.

Early Angelino Heights residents were socialites, representing a wide variety of self-made wealth, in diverse businesses like dairy farming, shoe sales and warehouse construction. In parlor rooms up and down Carroll Avenue, residents hosted elaborate parties as well as intimate gatherings. Angelino Heights was a desirable address, much like today's Beverly Hills or Bel Air.

"Visitors always marvel and gasp when they come around the bend," Burns says with a laugh. "No one expects to see homes like these in Los Angeles."

Most of the Queen Anne-Eastlake and Carpenter Gothic homes were built during Los Angeles' first big housing boom more than a century ago. Consequently, a second boom (fueled by the discovery of oil nearby in 1905) brought many California Craftsmen-styled homes and bungalows into the neighborhood as well.

Today, as visitors stroll along the street, they find other treasures such as a rare 100-year old Moreton Bay fig tree, a 1950's bomb shelter, and the house used for the exterior shots for "Psycho." It's not unusual to see film crews on the streets; countless movies and commercials are shot here, most notably,  "Sweet Dreams," "Salem's Lot" and the recent remake of "Of Mice and Men.

Burns points out the houses that have relocated to the hill, architectural orphans from other parts of the city that were destined for destruction. Preservation groups banded together to save these painted ladies and moved them to Angelino Heights where they now contently live a second life.

One of the biggest treats, however, is that every tour ends with a visit inside two restored Victorian homes. Planaria Price, who lives in a lovely Queen Anne-styled house, welcomes the idea of guests visiting her typical "cluttered" Victorian parlor. "I tried to be appropriate to the times; back then people did travel and collect quite a lot of things," says Price, an avid globetrotter herself.

Price stumbled upon Angelino Heights quite by accident years ago. "I was looking for the Hollywood Freeway and ended up here," she says. "It had a sense of Europe, an oldness that I liked and had to have. Where else in the city could I live like this?"

Among the books, knickknacks and collectibles that include a stone-carved Mayan god and an iron angel fireplace grill from Paris, guests can view fanciful woodwork, detailed light fixtures and beautiful stained glass windows.

But visitors quickly learn architecture isn't the only thing on display. The miracle of Angelino Heights really is the story of the people who rescued these homes from disrepair in the 1970s, and who continue to maintain and live in them. Burns calls these folks the true "urban pioneers."

Barbara Thornburg is one such pioneer. When she moved into the area in 1975, she says the neighborhood was a mess. "Cars were up on jacks in people's front yards and dirty sofas littered the porches," she says. "You could see these ladies needed a face lift."

Joining with fellow neighbors, Thornburg helped to establish the Carroll Avenue Restoration Foundation, a nonprofit group that helped to revitalize the street. The organization was successful in installing vintage streetlights and planting trees, and residents now are working to bury overhead electric wires, thereby creating an even more sense of otherworldliness.

Some visitors imagine they are in San Francisco, Thornburg says with a laugh. But Angelino Heights is definitely LA, reflecting the best of city's eccentricities and sophistication. "It's a smorgasbord of cultural and economic residents," she explains. Students, doctors, artists, university professors and families live side by side, exchanging house renovation tips as they work to maintain their tiny neighborhood.

Like any big family, there are politics and minor disagreements, Thornburg admits, but in the end, everyone is here for one purpose -- to bring to life a part of themselves as they connect to the past. "There is a sense of neighborhood here that I can't find anywhere else. We know one another," she says with a happy sigh, "almost too well."

Thornburg, like many Angelino Heights residents, always comes back to the houses, these works of art, in which they call home. "These houses continue to live, most of them were brought back from the dead," she continues. "You realize when you see these houses that they represent another time and way of life, and it's so important for people to know where they come from."

Where to go:

Tours of Angelino Heights are held at 10 a.m. the first Saturday of every month, and take about two hours. Advanced reservations are required by calling the Los Angeles Conservancy at (213) 623-2489. Cost is $8 for the general public, $5 for members of the Los Angeles Conservancy.