The corner of 6th Street and Gladys Street in downtown Los Angeles is like any other in this bustling city. Lots of traffic, lots of pedestrians, and lots of dirt and grime.
But this corner is also very unique. A magical corner, almost. And somewhere at this intersection, in both the world’s richest and poorest cities, is a story.
Let’s see if I can count it.
In Los Angeles, “Skid Row” is the common name for a six-block area of downtown that provides clothing, food, and shelter to thousands of the most downtrodden residents who have chosen to call Los Angeles “home.”
These men and women battle alcoholism, drug addictions, and homelessness. Many others suffer from mental illnesses ranging from simple depression to full-blown schizophrenia. These castaways of what we call society wage a daily war against a combination of all of the above, if they have the strength or resources to fight at all.
“Cardboard condos,” dormitories made of boxes, paper, and trash, line the side streets. Down here on “Row,” the number of liquor stores far outnumbers the workplaces. There are more opportunities to get crack, cocaine and heroin than training or medical assistance.
The men and women who make up Skid Row’s population are not recent immigrants, nor are they the majority who have chosen to live on the streets and alleys.
They were our neighbors, friends and schoolmates. They are our veterans. Some are our brothers and sisters. Before they fell so far, some of them were called by other names; Mom and Dad.
At this intersection of hopelessness and despair, soup kitchens and detox centers are rarely short of customers. AA meetings are held every night and twice on Sundays in a park that is a park in name only; some concrete and some old trees surrounded by a very high metal fence. The far lines of the fence form a point that ends where our magic corner begins.
But just as a magician must be experienced in person, 6th and Gladys St. must also be visited during the day, so you can see it clearly and experience it immediately. Come see how the other half really lives. And while you walk towards our magical corner, do what its residents almost never do.
When you arrive at the bus stop that borders the concrete park, surrounded by the grim realities of life for those on the other side… stand there for a moment and look around you at what we have become.
And then do what its residents can’t afford to do.
Look for.
Look up and read.
Read the sign above the bus stop that says “MTA 460-Disneyland.”
From the corner of 6th and Gladys, from the center of Skid Row, there is a direct bus ride to The Magic Kingdom, The Happiest Place on Earth.
Except “The Happiest Place on Earth” is not a destination for those who live here.
Somewhere, somehow, someone made a very big mistake.
And while it may not be magic, it’s definitely a trick.
