Olvera Street, Los Angeles

Ever since George's car had been stolen, buses, trains and his legs have been his mode of transportation. Yesterday was no exception. Yes Old Man George began to feel alive when his car vanished from the Five Points Senior Center over one year ago.
   Yesterday, as soon as he arrived at the bus stop on Main and Beach, he smile grew wider. The bus picked him up at about seven and he ran to the rear to rest, enjoy the view, and read. Never could he have done these activities inside a car.
    He had a date with an old Garfield chum whose name today will be Blake. He arrived at the Metro-Link Buena Park station a minute before the L.A. train would arrive. Quickly he bought a $3.75 senior ticket from the only working machine. The train was about to shut his doors so he scrambled to enter.
    "Wow, I just made it! Good morning everyone!" He held the doors so that his back pack wouldn't get shut out. He forgot that he was on a commuter train and the patrons might not like his rude entrance, but they did. The commuters needed somebody to awaken them and Old Man George was just the ticket.
     A  little Asian gal wearing a cute skirt sat beside him. He imagined that she was his date. Most of the riders were of Asian heritage. They too know that driving a car into Los Angeles is expensive an dumb. The conductor came down the aisle to check the tickets. Most had a monthly pass but not me. I proudly showed the man my badge of honor.
     As he had arrived at the Union Station early for his ten o'clock date with Blake, he left the station and moseyed around old Los Angeles. A few homeless slept inside a brick crevice as he walked towards the old La Reina church, originally at the mission in 1814 and remolded in  1867. Almost run over by hundreds of Chinese tourists, he made it to the old open church.
     The front façade was plastered a bright white, and on top were bricks. Inside, he sprinkled some holy water on him and took a pew. Serenity overtook him and he melted into the sanctuary. Oil paintings of Jesus and Mary hung on the wall. He walked around the patio area and soon nature called. He found an old brick bathroom and said his hell-Mary's.
     Outside the church hung a bronze inscription  in memory of the marriage of Isadore Dockweiler and Gertrude Reeves. As a kid, born in 1864, he held the train of Bishop Francisco Mora, the Prelate of the church. Isadore matriculated to Vicente College, later called Loyola Marymount. He produced 13 kids and became a great lawyer. A beach is named after him.
     After viewing this wall memory, he proceeded across the street to the Sepulveda building that once housed his  family and now was used for shops and a museum of the past  He found a hotel and asked their prices before returning to the Union Station to wait to be picked up. While George sipped a $4.00 cup of coffee, Blake phoned to let him know he would pick him outside the station on Alameda.
      Blake drove him to Philippe's restaurant, a favorite historic one for Trojans and Bruins. Inside were benches and tables. Since it was only 10:30, there was not a long line of people. They spoke about the fun times at Garfield High. Afterwards they went to Santa Monica for Blake to buy a one dollar Santa Monica parking ticket. Of course they had sold the last one.
      George said good-by and took the number 7 down Pico to see his daughter...who was not in. From there a bus, two Metro's bus, and another bus got him back to Huntington beach. It cost George two dollars to return to Surf City.