Staying in the Bunker Hill area, we moved from our rented room to a rented house, staying in central Los Angeles,   All the cousin-family groups were living  walking distance to each other, still close to the down-town and Bunker Hill area, but among the small-shops business area. Several of my aunts danced on Olvera Street, in the down-town area.   One of my aunts work on Brooklyn Avenue for the Sephardic merchants, in the  part of the street section, now called Cesar Chavez . 

Not everyone had a car, yet the extended family got together frequently. Even though I was about three and a half, I remember well the excitement of the family going on family outings to Echo Park, Silver Lake and Elysian Park, all of which are close to Bunker Hill.

Judging from the school that my sister attended, the area was not a Mexican barrio, it was a business area and very mixed ethnically, and racially.   Mom had many bad childhood barrio memories and experiences in San Antonio, and she did not want to live in a Mexican area..

Although mom was never in a gang in San Antonio, walking home from school by herself one day, she recalled being surrounded by a threatening Black gang.  Miraculously from out of nowhere,  a large African-American girl  stood in front of my skinny 5'2" mom and told them all, they would have to go through her.  Mom said she never forgot that kindness, which might have saved her life.

However,  with that fear, though Spanish was only spoken at home, Mom insisted that we live in a non-Barrio area, even though it was to be my sister's Tania first public school experience.   It was 1936 and there was no Spanish bilingual support for my sister. Her kindergarten experience was very difficult for her.  As a result mom and dad started speaking English at home.  My dad's English was excellent, mom's was not very good.  She had a thick accent and was definitely more comfortable speaking Spanish.

There were two schools in the area, the  public Castelar Elementary School at 840 Yale Street,  Kindergarden to 8th grade,  and the Catholic, Lady Queen of Angels 1^st grade to 12^th grade.  
                                                                                                                                        
The nation was healing from the depression.  Money was tight.  

The house we rented was at the far end of lot. You reached the house through a narrow drive-way, separating two buildings.  The little house was behind a restaurant, on the.  The house was completely surrounded, with a low wooden picket fence, a large yard, no grass.  Behind the house was an alley.

Community Theater Group

As you drove down the alley to reach our house, the building on the left was a community theater group.  The backstage entrance opened onto the alley.  It was mysterious and exciting for me to watch the actors from behind the fence,  in varied costumes and prominent makeup.  

Happenstance or perhaps predetermined, the theater group choose a script which required two children,  and that was us, my sister and me. The only dialogue, I remember,  was rushing onstage, greeting our stage parents. I do remember the applause at the end.  It was awesome.  I felt they were applauding for all of us, including me.  

We lived fairly close to Hollywood. There were Hollywood talent agents in the audience.  It was a time when child actors and actresses were quite popular, such as Shirley Temple, Judy Garland, Mickey Rooney, Margaret O'Brien, and Diana Derby, Elizabeth Taylor. 


It was the years when brunettes were very popular, before Lana Turner and Marilyn Monroe. 

Dorothy Lamour was one of the top movie stars. Her genre was South Pacific themes.  Lamour wore sarongs in 14 films. Perfect timing.  Dad always resourceful was able to get some walk on jobs as an extra for mom.  

My mom, a beautiful Latina was positioned by the director in some very visible shots, to the extent that the jealousy of other extras started spreading stories about mom sleeping with the director.   I suspect there were some racial issues because mom had difficulty expressing herself in English.. She did not fit in with the other women and stopped taking the "extras jobs".   At a time when money was tight, she stepped away from a convenient good paying opportunities.

I am sure that her experience shaped another decision.  Mom said the talent agents who had attended the play in which we appeared were interested in my sister and me as potential child actors, together.  Mom said that she and dad discussed it for a couple of weeks before making the decision  . .  not to get us involved with/in Hollywood.   

I have often thought of their very decision. In a financially tenuous circumstances and  and yet they decided not to pursue the world of Hollywood, thinking it was not the best thing for my sister and me.  

The Restaurant and Scootie

The building on the right was a restaurant.  The front of the house faced the back of the restaurant, with leftovers that attracted the attention of a special dog, who roamed the neighborhood.  Scottie is what we called him.  He came and went freely.

With my sister in school, Dad brought home a big rabbit, I think as company  for me.  Scottie enjoyed the new attraction in the neighborhood.  Scottie would clear the low fence easily and chase the bunny all around the yard.  They would take a rest, nestled next to each other,  and then start the race all over again. They became good friends.  This is what I remember Bunny looked like.

Scottie also included me as a playmate and friend.  Soon after Scotties started visiting, toys started appearing in our yard.  I didn't know where they came, but it was much fun to find them.  I think mom and dad assumed maybe some of the actors or people that worked in the restaurant were dropping them over the fence. 

But one day the mystery was solved.  Scottie was bringing them.  Mom was on the porch when she caught him in the act. She saw Scottie creeping on his belly, commando-style, head close to the ground, creeping along, carrying something in his mouth. 

Mom said she surmised, Scottie was trying to pass the opening to the four porch steps . .  .  .  without being seen;  because . . . as soon as he passed the steps, he raised to his full size, ran to me . . .   and dropped the item at my feet.  It was a toy.  Scottie was the culprit, or my friend, depending on how you looked at his gifts.

Toys continued to appear.  The loving nature of dogs and their intelligence never surprises me.  Scottie felt I needed toys, and he was going to solve that problem himself.  The toys must have mattered, because one day, the gate was left open and Mom said I had decided decided to run away.   A neighbor saw me and brought me back. The one thing I took with me was a gift from Scootie, a football tucked under my arm.  Dogs are angels with fur, big hearts, and a wagging tail.  I could not find a photo of how I remember him

The restaurant was also responsible for another special memory.  I was not sure which of my uncles played this trick.  My 96 year old aunt, Alicia Chapa clarified it for me.  It was her husband, she said, my Uncle Oscar when he was a teenager baby-sitting us. Tia said Tio Oscar loved to tell the story. 

I don't know how long we lived in that little wooden house, but I know we spent an Easter and . . .  a Christmas.  

My first memory of a Christmas tree was in that wooden house.  The tree was huge. The top touched the ceiling of our little house.  It was fully lit with bright shiny balls,  tinsels hanging, and Christmas related items hanging all over.  It appeared as magic over-night. 

It was dad's surprise, to us, which in many years to come, he brought the joy of Christmas into home, with these over-night beauties.  Usually The trees usually were given to dad for free by merchants, on Christmas Eve night,  anxious to clear away the Christmas season in preparation for the new year.  For me, it was a glorious thrill, like the surprise toys in our backyard.  We did not know if, when, or if,  we would have a Christmas tree on Christmas day. 

I realize now, as I reflect on some of these incidences that we were probably poor, but I don't remember thinking of us as poor. It was the depression, and the were like everyone else.   

However, surely the little rented house was in need of repair.  When it appeared that Los Angeles was going to get rain, Mom would hustle to get pots and pans ready.  And it came.  Furniture and beds were moved around to avoid the rain drops.  

As the leaks became visible, the pots and pans were strategically placed, hopeful  that the big pots were located under big leaks and a little pans placed under the little leaks. It was the difference in the size of the pots and the size of the leaks which made a difference, almost musical sounds, which entertained me as I fell asleep. 

Sometimes, on the next morning, warm and cozy from a good night sleep, you'd step on a wet, soppy rug, and quickly realize that the pots had to be emptied.

Outside with no grass, the rain and the dust made a cold, muddy, wet play area. I oftened wondered where Bunny and Scootie who liked to rest under the house, slept?

It was a fun, strange little house, with memories that included, the radio series, "Let's Pretend" and a musical commercial which I can still remember.

Cream is so good to eat, you should have it every day.
Sing this song, it will make you strong. It will make you shout hooray.
It's good for growing children and grown-up too to eat.
For all your family breakfast, You should eat cream of wheat.

Every now and then, I will buy a box of Cream of Wheat. . . eat, remembering the peaceful memories of a three year old.