L.A. Union Station

[dedalus_1947]

Do you hear that whistle down the line?
I figure that it's number forty-nine,
She's the only one that'll sound that way,
On the Atchison, Topeka, and the Santa Fe.

See the old smoke rising round the bend,
I reckon that she knows the's going to meet a friend.
Folks around these parts get the time of day
From the Atchison, Topeka, and the Santa Fe.

Here she comes!
Ooh, ooh, ooh.
Hey, Jim, you better get the rig!
Ooh, ooh, ooh.
She's got a list of passengers that's mighty big,
And they'll all want lifts to Brown's Hotel,
Cause lots of them been traveling for quite a spell,
All the way from Phi-a-del-phi-ay,
On the Atchison, Topeka, and the Santa Fe.
(Atchison, Topeka, and the Santa Fe: Warren & Mercer - 1944)

I recruited two traveling companions for my Wandering Wednesdays with the same name - John. One is a long time high school friend who has appeared in previous stories (see tag: amigos), and the other is a younger friend whom I’ve known since he was 8 years old (see Beacons of Light and Gethsemane). Either they had the time and inclination to explore various parts of Los Angeles and Southern California; or they were mesmerized by the siren’s song of German youth singing The Happy Wanderer on my first blog on the subject. Sadly, young John was unavailable for our first excursion, so Elder John and I went alone. Even though our itinerary was crowded, with many places to see and things to do, I had only one real objective. My mission was to have lunch at Philippe’s Original Restaurant on Alameda Street in Los Angeles, home of the Original French Dipped Sandwich. To accomplish that goal we would be spending the day in and around Union Station.

Union Station is the terminal station of the Metro Red Line, and it is within walking distance of many scenic and historical Los Angeles sites. For this trip, we decided to forego our cars and traveled by public transportation. We began our journey at the Metro station nearest my home, the Metro Orange Line at Canoga and Victory Boulevard. John and I left the car at the Park and Ride and boarded the double-joined, orange bus that ran 14 miles along a dedicated transit lane between Warner Center in Woodland Hills and North Hollywood. Traditional bus transportation is notoriously slow, especially in densely populated, downtown areas, where crowded, urban buses inch along through traffic and stop at every intersection and corner. However, the Orange Line, is an expressway-coach that travels swiftly on a paved-over, former railway route, with controlled lights at intersections, and designated station-stops. The end of the line was at the North Hollywood (NoHo) Metro Station on Lankershim Boulevard. There we descended into the bowels of the earth via a steeply plunging escalator and boarded a Red Line Coach heading to the city. The southern route took us through Universal City, Hollywood, Pershing Square, and the Civic Center, to the terminus point at Union Station.

Union Station was built in 1939 and it originally served the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railway, and the Southern Pacific and Union Pacific Railroads. It is a marvelous structure that combines Dutch Colonial architecture, with Mission Revival and Streamline Modern styles. Parkinson & Parkinson, the architectural firm that designed Los Angeles City Hall, drew the plans of this historical building. John and I took our time walking around and taking pictures of the enclosed garden patios, the waiting room, and the cavernous corridors covered in travertine marble and tile. John’s erstwhile attempts at a time-lapsed photograph eventually caught the attention of a security guard (who had him sign a liability waiver) and a commuting tourist who was fascinated with his German camera.

Exiting the towering building, we crossed Alameda Street to the oldest part of downtown Los Angeles, Olvera Street. Calling it a “street” is misleading; Olvera Street is really a walkway or expanded alley that was named after Agustín Olvera, a prominent local judge, in 1877. There are 27 historic buildings lining Olvera Street, the most notable being the Avila Adobe and Sepulveda House. In 1930, it was converted into the colorful Mexican marketplace that tourists see today. On this trip, John and I did not spend much time shopping. We moved quickly past the festively festooned stalls and kiosks, made a cursory detour into the Avila Adobe, and soon arrived at the intersection of Cesar Chavez Boulevard and Alameda Street. There we got a scenic look of the U.S. Post Office – Los Angeles Terminal Annex.

As a child I remember driving to this ornate building to pick up my Uncle Charlie, who worked there as a postal clerk one Christmas holiday season (on that occasion he told me that my Aunt Helen worked in the towering City Hall building, turning the evening beacon that flashed red and white all night). This was also the place where UCLA students, seeking the early processing of their class schedules for the following quarter, dropped off their registration packets and quarter payments, so they could be postmarked at midnight. Los Angeles Terminal Annex was built in 1940, and it shared the Mission Revival design style of Union Station. Across the street from the Post Office lay our lunchtime goal, Philippe’s Original Restaurant.

Philippe’s was originally established in 1908, and the restaurant claimed to have created the “French Dipped Sandwich.” According to legend, in 1918, when the owner, Philippe Mathieu, was making a sandwich, he inadvertently dropped a sliced French roll into the roasting pan filled with juice still hot from the oven. The customer, a policeman, said he would take the sandwich anyway and returned the next day with some friends asking for more “dipped sandwiches”. The restaurant relocated to its current location on Alameda and Ord Street in 1951, and it remains a storied and busy, cafeteria-style restaurant. Despite living in Los Angeles all my life, it was only as a college student working at ADT Burglar Alarm Company on Flower Street that I was introduced to Philippe’s and a French-dipped sandwich. My friend Jim, and his father George (see Friends and Tears in Heaven) took me there in 1969. I remember it clearly, because I had never tasted horseradish sauce until I put some of Philippe’s (Hot) Mustard on my sandwich. The pungent chemical reaction traveled straight up my nose and paralyzed my brain for 5 minutes. The restaurant has changed little since that day. A few more rooms were added upstairs, but the eatery still had sawdust on the floor, and long, but quick-moving lines at the counters. That afternoon, another of George’s sons and I stood in line and ordered two beef, French-dipped sandwiches, chips and drinks. We ate them on high stools next to perched wall-counters, in a cool and relaxing side room of the restaurant.

Exiting the restaurant refueled, refreshed and renewed, John and I decided to explore Chinatown, before returning to Union Station. It was only a short distance away, and it held many exciting, childhood memories. We traveled up Ord Street to North Broadway Ave, and then walked two-and-a-half long blocks to Chinatown Central Plaza. Being Mexican-American, I never considered local tourist attractions like Olvera Street or Grand Central Market as exotic, or especially picturesque. Mexico was part and parcel of my standard, cultural environment in Lincoln Heights, Boyle Heights, and East L.A. However, Chinatown was something else. This was a truly strange and magical location, filled with unique colors, costumes, and designs. The shops in Chinatown were bursting with marvelous toys and tools (I had never seen so many back-scratchers in my life). Walking along the crowded sidewalks, passing restaurants, entering enclosed bazaars, foreign markets and pharmacies, and festooned courtyards, I felt I was in the mythical wonderland of my youth. The Chinatown Plaza had not changed at all. After walking through the plaza, John suggested that we catch the Metro Gold Line at College Street and Alameda and ride back to Union Station in comfort.

The Gold Line dropped us at the Vignes Street side (the East side of the tracks) of Union Station. While passing through the wide concourse that tunnels under the train tracks to reach the other side, we walked up one of the ramps to see a train loading its passengers for departure. This was where the fabled trains of the Atchison, Topeka, and the Santa Fe deposited the new wave of “forty-niners” seeking their fame and fortune in the “western goldmines” of Hollywood and Los Angeles. John proposed one more stop before returning home on the Metro Red Line, and we left Union Station one more time to visit Our Lady Queen of Angels Church, called La Placita.

We left the terminal and, again, crossed Alameda, only this time walking through the wide plaza next to Olvera Street. We then scampered across Main Street to inspect the church directly opposite the plaza (in fact, the church is often referred to by Spanish-speaking residents as La Placita, the “The Plaza Church”). The church was founded in 1814 and dedicated on December 8, 1822. It was officially named after the patron saint of the city, Mary the mother of Jesus Christ, or as she was also known, Nuestra Señora la Reina de Los Angeles (Our Lady the Queen of the Angels). The interior was remarkably both simple yet ornate, and the altar was dominated by 5 large oil paintings of Mary and the Holy Family in a golden baroque façade. After taking a few more pictures we left the church and began our long trek back to the San Fernando Valley.

This was the most satisfying trip so far. The intervals on the buses and metros sped by quickly in animated discussions and observations. Each of us brought our own memories and insights of the places we visited to the talks we had. We agreed that we needed to try John’s time-lapsed photography one more time and also explore the Gold Line into East Los Angeles. So we laid the groundwork for our next trip, and perhaps John the Younger could come along.

I’ve enclosed some photos of our trip, but if you’re interested in a more comprehensive album, check my Flickr account at: 2009-11-17 Metro Tours. If you have any suggestions for trips or events, please don’t hesitate to mention them to me.