Comment
Rate
The RA Has Left the Building
 |
After Four Years, a Downtown Living Adventure Comes to an End
by Kathryn Maese
DOWNTOWN LOS ANGELES - When my husband and I bought a loft at Third and Spring streets in the Douglas Building four years ago, I never thought I’d leave Downtown Los Angeles. We instantly fell in love with the city and our newfound community.
But life sometimes opens up other doors, and after one baby, a second on the way and a new set of priorities, it was time for our family to move on — though not without some sadness.
Our adventure in urban living ended this summer, but the memories and friends we made will last a lifetime. I realize it’s the kind of sentiment you’d write in a high school yearbook, but the last four years were in a sense a graduation — for me, entering the next phase of my life, and for Downtown, which has evolved to become a more dynamic place to live.
I started my stint as Resident Advisor a young working woman with plenty of disposable income and all the freedom in the world to explore my new neighborhood. Often that meant late nights at the copious bars and restaurants sprouting up across Downtown. Many an evening was spent sipping mint juleps at Seven Grand, ducking in for a pint with friends at Bar 107, dancing and talking the night away at La Cita and listening to jazz at the now defunct speakeasy on Main Street.
Then came baby, and my perspective as an RA was changed forever. We were not alone, and in our 50-unit building there were 10 babies at one time or another. This was the most memorable time for us Downtown, and we grew even closer with many of our neighbors as we shared the concerns, challenges and joys of raising children in the city.
We became a tight-knit group, having dinner together, sharing babysitters so we could escape to the Art Walk for date night, spending holidays and birthdays together, borrowing eggs and milk when we ran out. Our doors were always open.
I heard the same observation from fellow residents time and again about how surprised they were that Downtown had such a sense of community, something not easily found in Los Angeles. I think it’s the pioneering spirit that seems to bring people together, a sense of shared experience and also a desire to make Downtown a better place to live. Everyone was pulling for its comeback and everyone lamented its setbacks.
I’ve been lucky to witness numerous milestones and changes over the last four years. When I first moved in, Main between Second and Fourth streets was a veritable campground for the homeless. Dark corners encouraged prostitution and open drug use. But after about a year, I was sitting on that same street drinking coffee at the local cafe with one of my neighbors. St. Vibiana’s across the street was in the throes of a renovation and the Higgins Building was helping to create a residential hub.
Street by street, I watched Downtown improve, whether it was a new store blossoming in a dark ground floor space, a gallery drawing weekend crowds or even the simple act of putting some potted trees on the sidewalk. Over the years, these small victories created a more livable neighborhood. There are new festivals and events, a thriving art scene, a movie theater and bowling alley, cupcake shops, pet groomers, a kids’ gym and endless plans for new ventures. It’s a long way from where we started.
But life in Downtown wasn’t without challenges, and some persist. The area is still a hub for the homeless and mentally ill, and that can lead to confrontation. Last year, as my husband and I walked with our baby girl around the corner from our loft, an obviously deranged man walked up to the stroller, leaned in and screamed at our child. It was the first time we ever felt threatened and it was a reminder that we should always be vigilant.
As a parent and someone who enjoys being outdoors, open space and parks are still in short supply in the heart of Downtown — any metropolis worth its salt needs to provide those who live and work within its confines a place to recreate.
Though our decision to leave Downtown prompts a sense of melancholy, I’m excited about our next chapter. We’re also not closing the door on the community. Perhaps when the kids are grown and out of the house, we’ll return as empty nesters to live in a loft in the Arts District or South Park — if we can afford it.
As I write from my new Silver Lake neighborhood, where we moved to be closer to my husband’s work and to save up for a new home, I think about what I’ll miss most about our four years Downtown.
I’ll miss bumping into neighbors on the street and having dinner together in Little Tokyo. I’ll miss going downstairs for a latte, cupcake and gossip at Lot 44. I’ll miss the flood of light from our huge double-hung windows and watching the passing parades or the falling rain. I’ll miss our building’s raucous New Year’s Eve party that always ended with too much tequila, and the dorm-like atmosphere that welcomed impromptu gatherings.
I’ll miss walking down Broadway early in the morning and dreaming about what that grand old thoroughfare will look like in another decade as the new wave of residents brings life to theaters and clubs. I’ll miss the pride of saying I live Downtown.
Of course, I’ll miss being the Resident Advisor. After all, Downtown is more than granite countertops, city views and a rooftop pool. It’s about the people who inhabit it and make it a great community. So be a good neighbor.
page 5, 11/16/2009
©Los Angeles Downtown News. Reprinting items retrieved from the archives are for personal use only. They may not be reproduced or retransmitted without permission of the Los Angeles Downtown News. If you would like to re-distribute anything from the Los Angeles Downtown News Archives, please call our permissions department at (213) 481-1448.
But life sometimes opens up other doors, and after one baby, a second on the way and a new set of priorities, it was time for our family to move on — though not without some sadness.
Our adventure in urban living ended this summer, but the memories and friends we made will last a lifetime. I realize it’s the kind of sentiment you’d write in a high school yearbook, but the last four years were in a sense a graduation — for me, entering the next phase of my life, and for Downtown, which has evolved to become a more dynamic place to live.
I started my stint as Resident Advisor a young working woman with plenty of disposable income and all the freedom in the world to explore my new neighborhood. Often that meant late nights at the copious bars and restaurants sprouting up across Downtown. Many an evening was spent sipping mint juleps at Seven Grand, ducking in for a pint with friends at Bar 107, dancing and talking the night away at La Cita and listening to jazz at the now defunct speakeasy on Main Street.
Then came baby, and my perspective as an RA was changed forever. We were not alone, and in our 50-unit building there were 10 babies at one time or another. This was the most memorable time for us Downtown, and we grew even closer with many of our neighbors as we shared the concerns, challenges and joys of raising children in the city.
We became a tight-knit group, having dinner together, sharing babysitters so we could escape to the Art Walk for date night, spending holidays and birthdays together, borrowing eggs and milk when we ran out. Our doors were always open.
I heard the same observation from fellow residents time and again about how surprised they were that Downtown had such a sense of community, something not easily found in Los Angeles. I think it’s the pioneering spirit that seems to bring people together, a sense of shared experience and also a desire to make Downtown a better place to live. Everyone was pulling for its comeback and everyone lamented its setbacks.
I’ve been lucky to witness numerous milestones and changes over the last four years. When I first moved in, Main between Second and Fourth streets was a veritable campground for the homeless. Dark corners encouraged prostitution and open drug use. But after about a year, I was sitting on that same street drinking coffee at the local cafe with one of my neighbors. St. Vibiana’s across the street was in the throes of a renovation and the Higgins Building was helping to create a residential hub.
Street by street, I watched Downtown improve, whether it was a new store blossoming in a dark ground floor space, a gallery drawing weekend crowds or even the simple act of putting some potted trees on the sidewalk. Over the years, these small victories created a more livable neighborhood. There are new festivals and events, a thriving art scene, a movie theater and bowling alley, cupcake shops, pet groomers, a kids’ gym and endless plans for new ventures. It’s a long way from where we started.
But life in Downtown wasn’t without challenges, and some persist. The area is still a hub for the homeless and mentally ill, and that can lead to confrontation. Last year, as my husband and I walked with our baby girl around the corner from our loft, an obviously deranged man walked up to the stroller, leaned in and screamed at our child. It was the first time we ever felt threatened and it was a reminder that we should always be vigilant.
As a parent and someone who enjoys being outdoors, open space and parks are still in short supply in the heart of Downtown — any metropolis worth its salt needs to provide those who live and work within its confines a place to recreate.
Though our decision to leave Downtown prompts a sense of melancholy, I’m excited about our next chapter. We’re also not closing the door on the community. Perhaps when the kids are grown and out of the house, we’ll return as empty nesters to live in a loft in the Arts District or South Park — if we can afford it.
As I write from my new Silver Lake neighborhood, where we moved to be closer to my husband’s work and to save up for a new home, I think about what I’ll miss most about our four years Downtown.
I’ll miss bumping into neighbors on the street and having dinner together in Little Tokyo. I’ll miss going downstairs for a latte, cupcake and gossip at Lot 44. I’ll miss the flood of light from our huge double-hung windows and watching the passing parades or the falling rain. I’ll miss our building’s raucous New Year’s Eve party that always ended with too much tequila, and the dorm-like atmosphere that welcomed impromptu gatherings.
I’ll miss walking down Broadway early in the morning and dreaming about what that grand old thoroughfare will look like in another decade as the new wave of residents brings life to theaters and clubs. I’ll miss the pride of saying I live Downtown.
Of course, I’ll miss being the Resident Advisor. After all, Downtown is more than granite countertops, city views and a rooftop pool. It’s about the people who inhabit it and make it a great community. So be a good neighbor.
page 5, 11/16/2009
©Los Angeles Downtown News. Reprinting items retrieved from the archives are for personal use only. They may not be reproduced or retransmitted without permission of the Los Angeles Downtown News. If you would like to re-distribute anything from the Los Angeles Downtown News Archives, please call our permissions department at (213) 481-1448.
 |
||
| Don’t Call It the Bratton Building |
Reader Comments
The following are comments from the readers. In no way do they represent the view of ladowntownnews.com.
Popular Searches
