During the first half of the 20th Century (through 1957 and who knows how long before) everyone–businesses included, burned their trash in backyard incinerators. Everyone had a burner. The residential ones were what you would imagine a “pueblo” bread oven or a pottery kiln to look like. Continue reading The Call Box: Burn Barrels
INTANGIBLE definition: Unable to be touched or grasped; not having a physical presence Continue reading The Call Box: Intangible
Nobody ever called me at 3 AM with good news. No one told me I won the lotto, or to take the next few days off and get some rest. No sultry voice ever asked me if I would like to— OK forget that one. Continue reading The Call Box: A Caper Story
If I had to guess I would imagine the average age of the officer out there in the black and white right now would be mid 20’s. This is totally unscientific and based only on observation. Continue reading The Call Box: A Common Law Divorce
Opened in 1923, it was 20 stories of imposing granite and dominated the skyline in East L.A., 800 beds, the largest hospital west of Chicago. Its art deco interior gave the massive entry way a cathedral-like atmosphere. One of the largest public and teaching hospitals in the U.S. it also trained military doctors in trauma (gunshot wound) care. Continue reading The Call Box: L.A. County General Hospital
New Year’s Eve: I was one of eight uniformed Metro officers who along with a sergeant was assigned to Hollywood and Vine.
Continue reading The Call Box: NYE at the Manhole Cover
Somewhere throughout the land there are probably a handful of old men who can claim the title connected to this Hollywood icon. Continue reading The Call Box: New Year’s Story