The Spirit of St. Louis

On my last post,  I wrote about a picture that played at the Regent Theater inside the Westside Pavilion Mall. But I remember in the 40's, when the same spot was called the Westwood Drive-In   theater. . .You needed to clip on a speaker and insert it inside the car. A room for refreshments was outside, next to the ever-so-large screen.  
   The Pico of the 40's played a prominent role in our lives. Every morning she walked to Pico with me inside the stroller. She needed to buy fresh groceries for the day. In the early forties, all we owned was an ice box.  Mom always needed another broom, just for George-that is me. Also at the grocery store, she bought our staples like sugar, rice, and flower...
  Abe the butcher lived in  back of us on Sherborne. She used a ration card to buy meats from his Pico Blvd Store. She must have loved liver since every Tuesday it served up with onions. I dreaded Tuesdays till I got older and new how to grill it. Even the football player Schindler loved liver. Yuck!
  
  Obesity did not exist then. It couldn't. We enjoyed the simple life then. My Mom Edith's  day never ended. She either cooked, washed dishes or hung clothes on the line. Why once a week she even mowed the front lawn. Once day the lower severed the better part of my left thumb. She rolled the stroller down Pico with one hand and held my bleeding fingered hand  with the other.  
  After the bakery she pushed me on the stroller back to our two bedroom one bath Spanish stucco home on Holt Avenue off of Airdrome. The remainder of the shopping was left to the trucks that brought produce, fish, and milk to our little piece of apple pie.
    Mr. Berman brought his truck down our street once a week. I found out there was other fruit besides figs and locquats. I can still taste the fresh peaches, plums and most of all, pomegranates. At least half of our foods came from his truck or the fig tree in the backyard.
But I am sure this bores you to death.
  
After the Saturday early evening movie, I went to the Westwood and Pico Bus stop. The movie Woman in Gold reminded me of my time growing up in West Los Angeles...It was powerful.  Three buses stopped a few feet from that corner: The Culver City Green , Blue 7 and Rapid Blue 7. A lady asked me if the Rapid 7 stopped there.
   "I need to take the Rapid Seven to get to the Purple Line Trolley. I need to get to the city of Fontana. 
  "Look over there. The sign says it does...But may I inquire if the Rapid Seven does bus you to the Purple Line?"
   "It sure does."
   "Well that it going to save me time. Now I can take the Purple train and switch to the Pico Rapid Seven to go down Pico."   I did know that the Rapid does not make every stop on Pico. The other Blue took me to my stop, Roxbury and I returned to the Rat Trap. I did not wish to disturb her so I went straight to bed.
    Early the next morning, I left early and took the #14 Metro bus to Wilshire. The Rapid Red bus took me all-the-way to Western. That is where I was going to pick up the underground Purple Line. Instead I had a great breakfast at Denny's and saw how this part of Los Angeles turned to Korean Town. 
    Why there was a gigantic driving range a few streets over with a large four block net covering it for errant golf balls. I felt so good that I decided to go to the downtown library. I needed to find out more about the Spirit of St. Louis. The libraries new machines allow you to copy pictures from the newspapers onto your flash drive. 
The Rapid took me to the downtown Los Angeles  Library. The downstairs fourth floor housed housed old newspapers on microfilm such as the New York Times and the Chicago Tribune. Of course I loved to find out about the flyer since he made a big impact on Schindler's life. 
    I asked for the May of 1927 to discover more about Lindbergh. I knew several fliers had already been killed trying to get the Orteiga prize of $25,000, for the first flyer to cross the Atlantic from New York and arrive in Paris.  When I had moved to San Diego, I found out he actually slept in the Y.M.C.A for one dollar. He also slept at the Grant Hotel for two. 

  
 This is a picture of Charles and his mother Elizabeth a few days before he would take off from New York to be the first to fly the Atlantic and get to Paris. 
  The French were still looking for the two who had set off for New  York. One had been an ace pilot who had shot down 45 German planes during the First World War. The sorrow of the French would soon be displaced by "Lucky" Lindy. 
  Unlike the French pilots, he knew he needed better weather before take off. Also, his metallic plane had enough gas and oil to make it if only he stayed awake. Already he had survived four incidents when he parachuted to safely delivering air mail.  The New York papers barely mentioned his name until a famous French fliers became lost and presumed dead. But what aroused me was how Schindler mentioned his name every time we entered Redondo Beach.
   I found out he did matriculate for awhile at the school as he and his Mom took a Pacific tour of California. I believe he was fourteen at the time.
   The underground Purple Line took me to the Grand Central Station. My Metro-Link train would leave at exactly two o'clock.