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• 1 2015-11-16T01:20:39-08:00 Act III 20 plain 2015-11-17T06:58:25-08:00

   

  If I was to learn something about history that I could really take away from, I wanted to know something that I was at least a little familiar with. I mean, what decade were we in now? If this was a game leading up to the present, I’d at least enjoy something more contemporary. As always, the Ghost of California’s past voice chimed through and echoed through the darkness at the moment I thought he would never come.

  “There’s a little something I want to show you that you think you may know a lot about. Have you ever heard of the Hollywoodland sign?” I glared into the darkness wondering what this fool was talking about. “You mean the Hollywood sign right? I hike there like all the time,” I retorted. All I could hear was the ghost’s cackle as the scenery around me warped into a landscape I knew all too well.

      Brown and green scenery were all around me. It smelled fresh, but I knew I was not in modern times. It felt as if I knew exactly where I was. I was by what I knew as the hike to get to the Hollywood sign! As I looked up into the sky, I saw a huge cheap looking billboard sign that read, “Hollywoodland.” I laughed because I thought this was a complete joke that the ghost was trying to play on me.
   

      “Ain’t she a beauty?” said a man standing right next me. I nodded, not wanting to say anything to distort the future in any way possible. “I’m Albert Koethe by the way. I’m the caretaker of this thing. I live right behind that L!” I smiled at him and asked, “So, what’s this Hollywoodland sign about? I’m confused.” He put his hands on his hips and began to respond.
  
      “Well. Even though I helped put this up, it was built from pretty cheap materials. I’m sure you’ve heard of DW Griffith and Edgar Rice Burroughs. They are some of the investors from Hollywoodland Development Company. We erected these letters from telephone poles, wood framing and sheet metal facing in 1923. The plan was for it to be an advertisement small residential plots and their business of constructing single family homes.” (Ethington, Phil. Social Landscapes and the Power of Place: The Hollywood ‘Sign’)
   

      Were we thinking of a different Hollywood sign? My eyes nearly popped out of my head because this entire time I thought the Hollywood sign I knew and loved was about the pop culture and fame of Los Angeles.
   

      Albert went on with a tremendous amount of excitement because he saw the inquisitive look on my face. “I know it’s nice! The Southern California telephone company is even putting in wires and cables for the future homeowners of Hollywoodland! Soon enough, they will install ‘aqueduct water, sewers, electric lights, ornamental street lighting, natural stone terraces and ornamental walls so that the home builders in Hollywoodland should have every convenience at the completion of their homes.’ This city will really be on the map now!”
   

  The luscious landscape and brilliant Hollywoodland sign around me started to warp and I could hear the ghost’s voice in the background rumbling, “‘‘The HOLLYWOODLAND sign was built only to promote a single neighborhood in a city that as yet had no grandeur!’”

      As I entered the darkness again, I marveled at the fact that I had no idea about the real story of the Hollywood sign. I was appalled.
   

  Everything around me faded into gray and I caught myself walking along a dim street. Everyone I saw around me looked desperate. People looked at me with longing eyes full of desperation. I needed to get out of this scenario. It was really freaking me out.  The nearest open place I saw was a church and since the Ghost had not given me any direction, I decided I’d just peep in and say a couple of prayers so I could get back home as soon as possible.
   

  When I walked in, I saw an enormous crowd of people sitting in the pews. For all I knew, it didn’t feel like a Sunday and it was strangely busy. I stood behind and saw a priest writing notes quickly on a pen pad. He was whispering to himself and I listened in to try to listen hoping that I would not distract him. He caught me and asked me to come inside his quarter. “What’s going on?” I asked. He looked up at me and said, “I’m sorry daughter. I am writing to the Times right now. It is unfortunate, but this Depression has truly brought people back to the church.” I looked down at his notepad and saw that it was dated for 1933. I gulped. He looked down and said, “‘History will thankfully thank the depression for saving the American home, nearly disrupted by too many cars, too much luxury, too keen a competition from the outside too much money, and an absentee fatherhood and motherhood (“Has the Depression Brought People Back to the Church?).’” Everything about the depression made me feel sick. The priest’s solemn expression made me feel queasy and being able to witness the pure desperation of the folks praying their hearts around me made me dizzy.

  I took a step back and walked out of the church. Eyes filled with tears and despair followed me and burned through me as I stepped away.
   

  When I walked out, it felt as time was changing because the scenery was slowly developing as I walked down the street. I glanced at my surroundings and saw an enormous warehouse with multiple individuals standing outside of it. As I approached them, I heard the commotion going on inside. A man came up to me and asked me if I’d like to see inside and if I’d ever consider wanting a job in there. I shook my head, a little confused. My eyes widened at the sight of so many planes up on pedestals.
   

  “There’s seriously so many!” I exclaimed. He smiled at me. “Yep. Have you seen the movie ‘Hell’s Angels’? It’s by Howard Hughes.” I shook my head in disagreement. “Well, he made a four million dollar famous movie about the Great War breaking out in Europe. It really emphasized his role as a leading air weapons manufacturer. ‘When the dictators are finally bombed off this earth, we shall become rugged individualists and rivals again. But until then, we are an army of hundreds of thousands of aircraft workers with one aim only—victory.’[1] We here air workers memorized that quote. We gotta hurry and finish our work because we have 60,000 planes to make by the end of the year. We here in Los Angeles are where the nation's vital aircraft industry is based and we've got to jump up our production until we win. Good thing L.A. has such a developed knowledge base with USC, UCLA and Berkeley. We're working together to share our blueprints so that war planes originally designed by one firm can be produced by all of us. (Ethington, Hell’s Angels: Air and Power in a Cinematic Metropolis).”
   

  Were we in World War II? I marveled at the sight of all the workers hovering around the planes until they slowly began to fade away.
  
    Before I could take notice of the familiar whirlwind that changed my surroundings, I felt someone nudge me. I turned and smiled at the boy who tapped my shoulder. It was the first person my age that I had seen in such a long time. "Hey, you look a little lost. Do you want to come over? My mom's making lunch and she keeps telling me I need to make more friends. Sorry this is random," he rambled. I instantly smiled and nodded. Maybe this was my reward for being so patient without any of the ghost's orders or directions!
  
    As we walked along the neighborhood, I noticed all the propaganda around the street poles. I was disgusted at the way the Japanese were presented in the photos. What time even was this? Who thought like that? My stomach churned.My new friend looked like he was of Asian descent and I turned over my shoulder to see his reaction. He looked somber, but he kept on walking and ignored the signs. "If you're wondering, yes I'm Japanese and no I didn't contribute to Pearl Harbor," he scoffed and rolled his eyes.
  
    We finally got to his house and his adorable mother greeted me at the door. I followed by example, took off my shoes and went inside. Two cute little twins ran around while the boy's father sat at the edge of the table on the floor. He greeted me happily. Right when I was about to get comfortable on the floor next to my new friend, I heard a huge bang at the door.
  
    Four officers marched inside before the boy's mother got the chance to open the door. "Executive Order 9066. You're all Japs so that means you're all coming with me. " One officer grabbed the two twins and their shrieks pierced through the small house. The other grabbed the mother, her face suddenly pale with fear. The next two officers grabbed the wrists of both my new friend and his father. They tried to hold their ground, but gave in to the officers' strength. The officers yelled, "Japs, keep moving! This is a white man's neighborhood."
  
  Before the tears could rush out of my eyes, everything went pitch black. In what felt like forever, the Ghost of California's Past's deafening voice filled the empty space. "In February of 1942, military broad powers banned Japanese citizens as well as others from a 50-60 mile wide coastal area from Washington to California to Southern Arizona. What you just sadly witnessed was the deportation of a Japanese American family who had to leave everything behind. Executive Order 9066 was propelled by a blend of war hysteria and panic from the Pearl Harbor incident. The Japanese were separated from their homes. The relocation center was at the Santa Anita racetrack where conditions were terrible. They were eventually brought to Manzanar, a scarring environment. I'll have you take a look right now!"
  
    The Ghost did not waste any time in sending me to Manzanar. I was instantly in what seemed like a mess hall. Everyone looked so depressed. Through luck of the draw, I saw my friend! I tried running up to him, but I was frozen. I couldn't move. The Ghost's voice yelled at me, "Now's not the time. His family has been separated in the mess hall. It fragmented the family unit and was destructive and dehumanizing." Shivers went down my spine. "Also, there's no insulation here. It is very cold during the winters and you can only imagine the blistering heat of the summer.(Daly WWII Lecture)" I longed to talk to my new friend again, but even looking at the dispirited look on his face made me want to vomit.
  
    The look of nausea on my face made the ghost say, "If this is disheartening, I'll show you the restrooms at Manzanar." My location instantly shifted to a room with just a row of toilets without stalls. I stared at them in shock. "The Japanese could not even go to the bathroom alone without being humiliated." My heart broke into thousands of pieces.
  
  I stared at the toilets and asked, "When does this end?"
  
  The Ghost simply responded, "The War Relocation Authority closed Manzanar, which was the sixth camp to be closed on November 21, 1945. It was about a month and a half after World War II ended. The Japanese had to leave the camp and head to their destinations on their own. Many, including the kind family you met, lost their homes and had to rebuild their lives from scratch."
  
  The thought of my friends in agony killed me. The Ghost could lead me to whichever destination he wanted and keep me in this realm forever, but I vowed in my heart that I would never discriminate against any person ever again. The suffering throughout history that I have learned may keep going, but I had learned too much in this very moment to even think about partaking in any of that nonsense. My heart was full and I felt motivated to continue this journey, but this time around, I had a new mindset with me.
  
  
   
  
  
  BIBLIOGRAPHY
  "AIRCRAFT PLANTS READY TO JUMP PRODUCTION." Los Angeles Times (1923-Current File), Jun 12, 1940. http://search.proquest.com.libproxy1.usc.edu/docview/165114166?accountid=14749.
  "Conduits to Serve Vast Area." 1925.Los Angeles Times (1923-Current File), Feb 08, 1. http://search.proquest.com.libproxy2.usc.edu/docview/161676411?accountid=14749.
  Ethington, Phil. "Hell's Angels: Air and Power in a Cinematic Metropolis." Accessed, November 16, 2015. URL:http://scalar.usc.edu/works/ghost-metropolis-2016/hells-angels-air-and-power-in-a-cinematic-metropolis
  Ethington, Phil. "The Hollywood 'Sign'." Ghost Metropolis: Los Angeles from Clovis to Nixon. Accessed, November 15, 2015. URL:http://scalar.usc.edu/works/ghost-metropolis-2016/the-hollywood-sign?path=inscribing-the-landscapes-of-los-angeles
  Has the depression brought people back to the church? (1933, Apr 16). Los Angeles Times (1923-Current File) Retrieved from http://search.proquest.com.libproxy1.usc.edu/docview/163097016?accountid=14749
  Hollywood Sign, Griffith Hiking Trails. Personal photograph by Gabriela Fernandez. 2015.
  "Manzanar Camp Conditions 'really Bad,' Senator Says." Los Angeles Times (1923-Current File), May 14, 1943. http://search.proquest.com.libproxy2.usc.edu/docview/165424003?accountid=14749.
  Japanese Propaganda, Professor Daly WWII Lecture. 2015. N.p.
  "Santa Anita Track to be Alien Station." Los Angeles Times (1923-Current File), Mar 21, 1942. http://search.proquest.com.libproxy1.usc.edu/docview/165301413?accountid=14749.