Downtown adjacent
"Things will be great when you're downtown
Don't wait a minute more, downtown
Although I had spent some time as a delivery boy for my Dad around downtown I was always a little nervous down there. In the mid 1960's and 1970's DTLA was in the doldrums as the automotive city became a bunch of buildings you drove past on the Harbor freeway. However, you could still park on the street and when I delivered stuff to the Southern California Music Company near 8th and Broadway or the run down Ambassador Hotel on Spring. As mentioned before I acted as a "digger" standing in line for tickets for the newly opened Music Center in August of 1965. The show was Hello Dolly and the star was Carol Channing. My other contacts with dirty old downtown were in going with my family to the Biltmore or Philharmonic Hall for Broadway musicals like Fiorella or My Fair Lady. Running errands for my Dad I also knew some spots in the fringe like Phillippes, Langers Deli, the Trojan Barrell, Darm's Market, the Pantry and the Automobile Club. My knowledge of the place was sketchy and my true expertise was the neighborhood around the Coliseum and Sports Arena where I roamed on foot from the LA History Museum to the soda fountain in the lobby of the Figueroa theater. The grill was run by a world weary black man named Lester who could put out a pretty fine salisbury steak with plenty of fried onions.The intersection of Fig and Santa Barbara was a remnant of old LA and I recall a lost way of life. There was a well-lubricated shoe shine man in the Figueroa Hotel named Brownie who may have been 90 years old that would have meant his deep South parents were probably slaves. He was illiterate but survived by doing this hard and humble work. He would take a pair of shoes away from BCs office and bring them back with a beautiful shine on them. There was Lou's barber shop in the hotel and a cafe where they made French dip sandwiches that were not in the same league with the great Phillippes delights. In my many years around the corner I had one of the gristley beef dips and one haircut in the fading hotel. Both were abject failures. The barber, un-used to the fine hair of a suburban kid could not find a balance on my sidewalls and left me little on the top while seeking a true reckoning. When I arrived at high school that Monday, the first thing I heard was "hey Creason! when did you join the Marine corps.? Across Santa Barbara from the hotel was a trade school where men could learn how to repair deisel engines or run a lathe. One block over was the Crocker Bank where an actual starting player on the Lakers worked in the off-season. His name was Rudy LaRusso and he was a graduate of Dartmouth. That was also the bank where BC took his cash around 3 in the afternoon and also one of the most robbed in the city. I had been sent on foot many times around that corner to the other brokers along Santa Barbara (now ML King blvd) and they were characters who had to develop thick hides and plenty of guts to make it in the ticket business. There was Tysons where Shikey ran the office at a level below the Coliseum and Arena but sometimes helped my Dad when he needed tickets desperately. They argued but that was part of the business. Champion was a fly-by-night rented office run by the the eccentric Kramer who was damaged by a car accident he was involved in where his best friend was killed. He was missing half a finger but he had plenty of chutzpah and was slightly above a street scalper sometimes. Kramer had a brother who he allowed to hang around and be sent out as a scalper. This goofy kid was named Chuckie and he would bave been a street person in today's world. Chuckie was very nervous and it was hard to follow his conversations but he loved the buxom waitress at Fernando's Bar that Dennis Patterson nicknamed "the Big Bopper." Dennis worked for my Dad and was the son of an old friend and dry-cleaner Johnny Patterson. Dennis was a very sharp guy and was the best worker ever at the office. However, he was a outdoorsman and just a five year stint in the ticket business was turning his black hair gray. He finally left, moved to Oregon with his adorable wife Francie and became a fireman. Dennis was like a big brother to me and taught me a lot. Even though he was square as a cube he could handle himself on the mean streets around the office. He had actually won the CIF wrestling championship at his weight for Morningside High School. Continuing down Santa Barbara you came to just a stand where Louie Marco set up shop with a standard poodle and sold tickets on game days. Even thought Louie was in the lowest rent spot he had some dignity and also parked a caddy out back. A few aromatic steps west would put you in front of the A-frame Weinerschitzel that often was the source of lunches since the dogs were cheap and easy to procure. I think they were 19 cents. Finally at Menlo and Santa Barbara was the imposing "Murray's Tickets" that was run by the Adelman family who knew how to make money and did not hold back when battling for good seats. The were uncharitably called "the Hog Brothers" by Dennis because they had started at the counters inside the Figueroa Theater, selling cheap seats a quarter over. Those days were over and the clever David ran Murray's with the help of his brother whose name I cannot remember. Their Dad was a friend of BC's named Joe Adelman who had made a pile running check-cashing spots in the ghetto. These were very dangerous places to work but great for quick profits. They sat behind thick glass and went to their cars with proceeds with armed guards. Murray's had a pretty large staff and did well in a great location since they were the last stop for desperate sports fans who might have gone into a bar to watch a game except they had that last chance on that corner. My brother and I were dragged to "the Office" in the first location at 3809 S. Vermont which was closer to the Coliseum but had much less foot traffic. Later a rather famous bbq joint opened on the block called Mister Jim's. His motto was "you need no teeth to eat our beef." Mostly, when I was taken to the Vermont office I would either go to mass at St. Vibiana's or walk over to the Museum and check out the mummies and the stuffed North American animals. I also learned some tricks of the trade by being sent out to beg for extra tickets of events like the Barnum and Bailey Circus that my Dad was selling for maybe two buck apiece. If I could get maybe six tickets he would net twelve bucks and give me a couple. It was a time when the big money owners wanted to discourage ticket brokers and once my brother gave pricing info to the chaffeur of Walter O'Malley. Stephen had no idea but BC blasted him for ruining the business.
Comments
Post a Comment