3525 South Bronson Ave.

Greetings all! Marsak here. Remember when I used to look at demo permits and blog about the structures? Good times. I’ll get back to it, I swear. I’ve been completely consumed with this book project the last few months. Big thank-you to Kim who’s been keeping the flame alive here at RIP!

But I saw this today and just had to toss it out there. There’s an Instagram page called southlabuildings, which I love, because I love South Los Angeles so damn much.

Go add them on your IG

And I love this house to an absurd degree. It was listed for sale recently. The listing read in part:

Which reads “tear this down and build a giant-ass box you crazy bastards!”

The house was listed, relisted and delisted, so who knows what’s going on with it. There is/was apparently a demo permit issued, as evidenced by this photo, though there’s nothing about the issuance of a demolition permit proper at City Planning or on ZIMAS—

Although at DBS we do have confirmation that they’ve gone through and have had their Plan Check approved, which does not bode well—

So let’s talk a bit about this house. Of course every developer from God-knows-where wants to tear it down—to build a superdense coronavirus hotbox that looks like some preteen’s Jenga tower—and, I might add, without a thought of moving it. Moving it, you say? Who does that? Well you know, it was moved here after all.

That’s right, it came from somewhere else. Figueroa south of downtown used to be full of grand homes, once upon a time (like, say, this one). And Martin Bekins’s house at 1341 South Figueroa St., built in the spring/summer of 1907, was one of them. Martin Bekins is yes, THAT Bekins. Read more about him here and here. Bekins & family stayed in the house until downtown grew up around them and in the early-mid 1920s built something larger and with more property out in Eagle Rock.

When you live in a big house on Figueroa, muckety-mucks come speak in your living room, and then you make them governor

The architect of 1341 South Figueroa was John A. Mathis. Mathis came to Los Angeles in 1885 and established the Mathis Construction Company. He built all over the southland. Below is another Mathis house; from what I can tell, it and Bronson are the sole remaining two.

2225 West Twentieth St., J. A. Mathis, 1905. This house just underwent renovation and restoration. Why can’t our friend on Bronson? C’mon Jefferson Park! Don’t let West Adams make a fool of ya!

Anyway, after Bekins moved to Eagle Rock in the mid-1920s, the spot at 1341 was needed for something else (Bekins Co. built a commercial structure on the site, which disappeared in the early 1970s, and it’s all Convention Center down there now), so the house was picked up and moved by Welte House Moving Co. in the spring of 1929, where she’s been ever since.

And there‘s a wishing well! Let’s all go toss in some coins and envision her restoration

I mean look at the old girl. Not stucco’d, the chimneys are there, all original windows, the porches haven’t been enclosed…incredible. Large corner lot. If ever a home could come back, and be a showplace and a feather in the cap of Los Angeles, it is this one.

So what say ye, Los Angeles?

The Cranky Preservationist in Reports of the Death of The White Log Coffee Shop Have Been Exaggerated (episode 26)


Architectural historian Nathan Marsak loves Los Angeles, and hates to see important buildings neglected and abused, whether by slumlord owners or the savage public. Follow him on his urban adventures as he sees something that looks like crap, opens his yap and spontaneously lets you know exactly why this place matters.

Episode 26 finds Nathan and his wee pal The Los Angeles Preservation Imp at 11th & Hill, kitty corner from the Herald Examiner, at the scene of a recent fire that’s had fans of the faux log cabin diner that’s occupied the corner since 1933 worried sick.

But the diner’s designer Ken Bemis was a super genius, praised in Fortune Magazine for his “cat-like brain, which, dropped from anywhere, always lands on its feet.” The building might look like an old New England log cabin, but was in fact a patented ultra-modern fire-proof marvel, its concrete “logs” poured into versatile wall and window molds that could be reconfigured to taste, or packed up to move to a new site with ease. The fire had scarcely scorched the place.

While skipping happily around the undamaged log cabin, and letting the imp root around in the burned fixtures tossed around back, Nathan encounters a couple of interested parties, and lets loose with a little improvisational preservation advocacy.

We know it’s strange to see people walking around, coming up to talk to each other, touching their faces and so forth, yet this was our beloved Los Angeles just a month ago. And while we shelter in place and do our best to look out for one another and our beloved local landmarks from afar, there is just one ray of sunshine we can’t help but bask in: the perceived wisdom that every small, cool, historic building like the White Log Coffee Shop that sits on valuable Downtown L.A. real estate is doomed is over now. There are hard times ahead for Los Angeles, that’s certain, but we might just get to hang on to more of our landmarks. And what are we without them? Cranky, that’s what!

Where will the Cranky Preservationist turn up next? Stay tuned!