Tag Archives: LAUSD

The Fort Hill View — Gone Forever

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The white blur down the hill is Pico House.

During this last week of September 1846, Seubula Varela issued a pronunciamiento and posted it in the Plaza. Varela was a Mexican patriot, aka, a young hot-head, in the U.S.-occupied Ciudad. Varela somehow had printed a pronunciamiento against Maj. Archibald Gillespie, the U.S. Marine left by Stockton to command the humiliated capital city. Gen. Jose Castro and Gov. Pio Pico had already fled to Mexico — taking the treasury from Monterey, and the provincial records and archives from Los Angeles, with them, respectively.

The earliest photograph of Los Angeles, taken from Fort Hill. That’s the water-tank in the center; the two-story Lugo Adobe behind it; then the glint of the LA River and top right, distant cienegas; in between, the fields and orchards. It’s possible that the HUGE sycamore along the road to San Gabriel, is “El Aliso”, the sacred home-tree of Yangna. Middle right is Carre de los Negros; The white-gabled adobe at right is the Carillo Adobe. La Placita Church and churchyard cemetery are at bottom, far left.
  • An expensive, handsome renovation has redeemed the monument; now the hipsters won’t overlook a dry, needle-spiked ruin from their balconies.

[A pronunciamiento is a traditional Spanish political appeal — a kind of matching-grant challenge, declaring things very bad, proposing public rebellion, and inviting fellow citizens to mount up under command of whomever issued the pronunciamiento.]

The site dominated the old Pueblo

Fortunately, Gen. Andres Pico and Gen. Juan Flores were the first to mount up, so the 600 tardier volunteers were relieved to find that the silver spurs had already taken over command from Varela’s red-hot espuelas.

Pico House, built in 1870 atop the Carillo Adobe, gleams like an Italian palazzo when Viewed from Fort Hill. The swank, modern hostelry was developed with Pio Pico’s proceeds from the sale of the SFV to Isaac Lankershim.

The surprised Americans troops were driven from the Plaza up to the top of the hill rising behind La Placita Church, which thereupon became “Fort Hill.” They whipped up some earthworks, but had no water or food and had to surrender. Before they did, they sent the famous Juan Flaco, “Hungry John” galloping through the Californio lines, and he began his breathless, epic 400-mile ride to Monterey to report the revolt and to request relief for the beleaguered Americans. The Californios wasted no time marching their 50 Marine prisoners of war back to San Pedro at lance-point. Yankee, go home!

The Lugo Adobe (I think now a Catholic girls’ school) and La Placita both got shake-shingle rooves! That’s the adobe of Agustin Olvera, just above the clump of trees at the left. This is just about the time the City changed the name of Vine Street to “Olvera Street,” to honor the U.S.federal judge.

Later, when Cmdr. Stockton, and/or Gen. Kearney, retook LA, the famous Mormon Battalion were ordered to build Fort Moore on the hilltop. Here, on July 4th, with the whole Plaza of LA in view, the 4th of July was first celebrated in LA, 1847, of course with cannons booming and a concert of band music. Which displays, of course, were thoroughly enjoyed by the Angelenos.

When Fort Hill was “The Hills:” PHINEAS BANNING led that ghastly LA phenomenon — “Hilltop levelling” for a millionaire’s super-villa.

Then Fort (Moore) Hill became — think about it — the city’s first Protestant cemetery. Then a clip-joint beer garden, where folks could “roll back home” after a bender. Then Phineas Banning Built His Dream House. Then the LAUSD mangled the site with a horrible succession of school buildings; then the 101 Freeway obliterated the site. Still, until this summer, you could see down to the Plaza from Fort Hill, or up to the hill from the Plaza. It was the most famous view of Los Angeles for many years.

LA’s Public School, atop Fort Hill.
They just can’t leave this hill alone.

It’s gone – almost completely. Though in fact, they’ve left JUST enough of a sight-line to grudgingly admit the idea that the View was worth preserving, so they left a twenty-foot-wide canyon through their canopy of balconies.

  • The tiny white box, center, is La Placita
  • Keep your eye on the white box…
No sign for the Plaza; or the Pueblo; or La Placita; or Fort Moore Hill monument.

Just to rub it in, I actually like filling that space with residential units. It makes all kinds of sense. But overpriced hipster lofts identical to these are everywhere,while the city has lost a vital organ here — a link to geography, and to history, and to the unique spirit of Los Angeles. Sigh. At least they put in a staircase. Though note, no crosswalk links the flights across streets.