Prince Rogers Nelson (June 7, 1958 – April 21, 2016), known simply as Prince, captured a series of selfies in the bathroom mirror of 2810 Montcalm Avenue in Los Angeles, where he was staying in January 1978. One of the images became the cover of his memoir, The Beautiful Ones, and alternate takes from this session are included inside.
“I took this picture of the heater and I, in the bathroom mirror,” Prince wrote. This turned out to be part of a more extensive photo shoot he’d undertaken alone in the bathroom, wearing red leggings, cutoff jeans, and, occasionally, a fake hand. (“If you understand my color, put your hand in your crotch,” he would later sing on “Purple Music.”)
The Monterey Jazz Festival is an annual music festival that takes place in Monterey, California, United States. It was founded on October 3, 1958 by jazz disc jockey Jimmy Lyons.
The festival is held annually on the 20-acre (8 ha), oak-studded Monterey County Fairgrounds, located at 2004 Fairground Road in Monterey, on the third full weekend in September, beginning on Friday. Five hundred top jazz artists perform on nine stages spread throughout the grounds, with 50 concert performances.
In addition, the Monterey Jazz Festival features jazz conversations, panel discussions, workshops, exhibitions, clinics, and an international array of food, shopping, and festivities spread throughout the fairgrounds.
These vintage photos were taken by Baron Wolman that show attendees of the Monterey Jazz Festival in California in September 1969.
Actress Farrah Fawcett attends the taping of “Celebrity Battle of the Sexes” tennis tournament on April 3, 1977 at Marguerite Park in Mission Viejo, California. She teams her tanned limbs and tomboy-ish Adidas shorts and T-shirt with a silk scarf for a touch of glamour.
Hollywood stars compete in a series of athletic events, men versus the ladies, to prove who was the superior sex. This special game show and those that followed each six-months at CBS, was an evolution from the station’s “Challenge of the Sexes” (1976), which had cast everyday people, and “Battle of the Network Stars” (1976).
In tennis, “Battle of the Sexes” describes various exhibition matches played between a man and a woman, or a doubles match between two men and two women in one case. The term is most famously used for an internationally televised match in 1973 held at the Houston Astrodome between 55 year-old Bobby Riggs and 29 year-old Billie Jean King, which King won in three sets. The match was viewed by an estimated fifty million people in the United States and ninety million worldwide
Two other matches commonly referred to as a “battle of the sexes” include one held four months earlier in 1973 between Riggs and Margaret Court over the best of three sets, and one in 1992 between Jimmy Connors and Martina Navratilova over the best of three sets, with hybrid rules favoring the female player dubbed “The Battle of Champions.”
At least eight other exhibition matches have been played between notable male and female tennis players starting in 1888, though only some of them were referred to at the time as a “battle of the sexes.”
Stevie Nicks from Fleetwood Mac stands in the ocean breeze with her trademark flowy dress sleeves rippling dramatically over her head. The photographs were taken by Neal Preston on the roof of Stevie’s condo in Venice Beach, CA during a shoot for People Magazine.
According to Preston, the wind was so strong, one of his assistants literally had to hold Stevie down by her boots.
“She was living in Venice, California, at the time and she had a condo on the top floor of a six-story building right on the sand in Venice Beach and we had a great shoot, she couldn’t have been easier. But I still wanted that one last killer photograph and I said almost at the same time as she said: ‘Why don’t we go up on the roof and shoot as the sun is going down?’ I thought it was a fantastic idea.
“She had put on this white outfit with long sleeves of fabric that really caught the wind like a sail on a sailboat. The second I put the camera to my eye the wind starts kicking up. She is posing and the sleeves are going all over the place, and I realize about three frames in that the wind is going to be blowing so hard that one gust and she could be blown right off the side of the building, six stories down, which would have ruined Time Life’s insurance department’s day.
“There was only one thing to do because we were getting great photos and the sun waits for no man and it was going down. So I made an assistant of mine lie on his stomach out of frame and I said ‘You hold on to that white boot — you do not let go.’ And that is what he did. She stayed in one place and we got great pictures. But that is why you don’t see her boots in the pictures. There could be no full-length shot.”
Preston grew up in Queens, New York. He went to Forest Hills High, the same school that spawned The Ramones. He was already photographing bands and set to go to the Philadelphia College of Art when he realized the career he had chosen didn’t need a degree.
“The day was absolutely intoxicating, and the next afternoon a bouquet of flowers arrived at my house with a note thanking me for a ‘magical shoot.’ She's a friend for life and one of the most creative people I've ever met.”
If you’re strolling along the sidewalk and a big red rooster whizzes past on roller skates, don’t rush to the nearest eye doctor. It’s only Buster, out for his daily spin.
In 1952, Times photographer Leigh Wiener was sent to the scene of a reported hit-and-run car crash on South Alvarado Street, Los Angeles. He found little of note at the scene, only a man who asked him to take his photo, a relatively frequent occurrence. Wiener later wrote that he joked to the man, “Sure, I’ll take you picture, Mister, if you have a dog that can roller-skate.”
The man didn’t have a dog, but he did have a rooster — specifically, a skating rooster. Wiener agreed to meet the bird, named Buster, on his day off, August 17, 1952. When he arrived, Buster wore “a clean pair of “You Can't Bust ’Ern” overalls, and his custom-made roller skates simply shined.” Wiener took Buster’s photo and later photographed him again at an ice rink. Buster could apparently ice skate, too.
Buster, whose owner was teaching him to be a roller-skating rooster, glided under a playmate’s legs during a practice run on a Los Angeles sidewalk.
Billy Lehr has put Buster on ice skates, and he glided along clad in his special skating trunks to the amused astonishment of Cathy Henderson at Pasadena, California.
Buster the Rooster
A lively potful of Rhode Island Red, Buster was one of several chickens owned by William Lehr, a retired circus clown. The August 22, 1952 issue of The San Bernardino County Sun from San Bernardino, California, reported:
“Buster uses five-inch long baby skates, made of aluminum and taped to his big feet. Lehr usually gives Buster a push to get him started. Once under way, the bird makes out all right. He uses his wings to push himself forward and to keep his balance.
“Buster, who is three years old, has been skating for six months. Lehr is grooming him for a stage debut. The ex-clown figures his pet has a great theatrical career ahead of him. While Buster may get the bird, at least he can’t lay an egg.”
The Runaways were an all-female American rock band that recorded and performed from 1977-1979. The band released four studio albums and one live album during its run. Among their best-known songs are “Cherry Bomb”, “Hollywood”, “Queens of Noise” and a cover version of the Velvet Underground’s “Rock & Roll”. Never a major success in the United States, the Runaways became a sensation overseas, especially in Japan, thanks to the single “Cherry Bomb”.
The Runaways were formed in August 1975 by drummer Sandy West and guitarist Joan Jett after they had separately introduced themselves to producer Kim Fowley, who gave Jett’s phone number to West. Fowley then helped the girls find other members. Two decades later he said, “I didn’t put the Runaways together, I had an idea, they had ideas, we all met, there was combustion and out of five different versions of that group came the five girls who were the ones that people liked.”
Starting as a power trio with singer/bassist Micki Steele, the Runaways began the party and club circuit around Los Angeles. They soon added lead guitarist Lita Ford and Jett switched to rhythm guitar. Steele was soon fired from the group, replaced by bassist Peggy Foster, who left after just one month. Lead singer Cherie Currie was recruited in a local teen nightclub called the Sugar Shack, followed by Jackie Fox on bass.
The Runaways pose for portraits on the beach in Los Angeles, California in April 1976. (Photos by Michael Ochs/Getty Images)
An interesting vintage image of Mary Anne Hawkins surfing the flooded streets of Long Beach, California, ca. 1938.
(Photo by Doc Ball)
Mary Ann Hawkins (1919–1993) was born and raised in Pasadena. Her father was a book-keeper and her mother a collector of antique dolls. At six years old, by her own recollection, Mary Ann was sickly and weak, so her parents enrolled her in a YWCA swim program. A couple of years later, it was Duke Kahanamoku’s swimming that captured her imagination. “I was about 10 when I saw Duke in the pool in Pasadena,” she recalled. “He was this big, beautiful Hawaiian man, making bubbling noises with his mouth and making everyone laugh. Duke would have been around 33. He fascinated me and I’ll never forget the first time I saw him.”
In 1929, she won her first honors for all around swimming and diving with the Pasadena Swim Club and had buried her parent’s mantel piece with 37 first-place ribbons. In 1933, Hawkins competed at the Southern Pacific Association Swimming and Diving Championships and won the 880-yard freestyle, beating the old record by 8 seconds. In 1934, she broke the 800-yard record again, and also won the National Junior championship in the half-mile, and the 100 yard freestyle.
She recalled that at the age of 15, “because of my love for ocean swimming – ocean races more than pool races – my mother bought a little house down in Costa Mesa, near Newport Beach and Corona Del Mar. That was 1934.” That same year, Mary Ann competed with the Ambassador Hotel Swim Team in an 880-yard paddleboard race and won-against men.
For a brief time, while hanging out with the likes of Tarzan Smith, Mary Ann was part of the Corona del Mar surf crew. While enjoying that status, she may have been part of the first surf expedition to San Onofre. “A group of surfers had come back from Mexico, and on their way back they had spotted San Onofre, and thought it looked like a great spot to surf. So they came on down to Corona del Mar and gathered up a second car load, including me, and the two car loads of us drove down to where they’d seen this fabulous surf. There was no road that we knew of to get in, or else it’s because you had to pay to get in, in those days... we parked on the road, and walked over fields, and went down the side of the cliff there to San Onofre, and surfed that way. And that was the beginning of San Onofre’s surf thing.”
Mary Ann’s stay at Costa Mesa and as a regular at Corona del Mar was brief, as she and her mother moved to Santa Monica in 1935. Now solidly in surf mode, she got her own board, which was almost unheard of in California in the mid-1930s. Although girls were part of the beach scene, few took to riding other than tandem. Also, the weight of surfboards was considerable. They were so heavy that they had to be literally dragged up and down the trail at places like Palos Verdes Cove. At the time, Mary Ann probably weighed less than her surfboard. “I wasn’t very good,” she said modestly, “and I was always the only girl out there surfing.” At Santa Monica, she fell in with a group of guys that included Tulie Clark, Hoppy Swarts, Bud Morrisey, Barney Wilkes and E.J. Oshier and her surfing improved.
Mary Ann tried out for the Olympics in 1936, at the age of 17, but didn’t make it in for reasons unknown. Despite this, she never expressed any disappointment that she did not follow in Duke’s wake in competitive swimming.
Even so, her swimming records were impressive. Mary Ann had started her swimming career at age nine and by the age of 17, she was the Amateur Athletic Union (AAU) 500-meter freestyle champion. It is obvious she enjoyed surfing and paddling more, however. Between 1935 and 1941, she was the darling of the California surf scene, winning nearly every women’s surfing and paddleboarding event she entered. She also served as a model for the next generation of California female surfers, including Robin Grigg, Vicki Williams, and Aggie Bane. In 1939, Mary Ann “was invited to compete in the 1939 Duke Kahanamoku Swim Meet in Honolulu, where she broke the Hawaiian record for the 220 meter freestyle.
It was a big jump to make for an eighteen year-old woman, but she took the steamship ride to the Hawaiian Islands and competed in the Pacific Aquatic Festival. She won the women’s half-mile and the 880-yard and broke a record in the 220-yard. More importantly for her, however, was the chance to surf Queens and meet Duke Kahanamoku, who had inspired her as a young girl. “My very favorite surf spot in all this world is Canoe Surf in Waikiki,” Mary Ann declared many years later. “In 1939, when I was over there, Duke helped me in every way. He’d always have me get to his right, he’d coach me... Duke and his brother and I were a team together. He picked me to team with him, to surf against the Australians.” That surfing competition was cancelled, but Mary Ann came home from Hawaii with her most cherished memento: a photo of her shaking hands with Duke.
From 1938 to 1940, Mary Ann reigned as the women’s division champion of the Pacific Coast Surfboard Championships, and was also the paddleboard champion. In the late 1930s, aquaplaning was also a popular sport in southern California. The Catalina Aquaplane Race was a 44-mile pull from Avalon, on Catalina Island, to Hermosa Beach, and Mary Ann won that, as well.
A teenage swimming, paddling and surfing champion in the 1930s, Mary Ann drew lots of attention going on into her 20s. She was featured surfing in a 1938 issue of Life magazine. Shortly afterward and after appearing in newspapers and magazines for her various triumphs and feats, as well as being the poster girl for Palos Verdes, Mary Ann began to attract the attention of Hollywood. She was asked to double for Judy Garland, but was told she was too athletic to fool the camera – Garland was less than five feet tall. After trimming down, Mary Ann’s first role was an extra in the pool doing water ballet for Washington Melodrama in 1941.
Mary Ann doubled for Dorothy Lamour in Aloma of the South Seas (1941) and Beyond the Blue Horizon (1942), and then worked with Johnny Weissmuller in Jungle Jim (1948) and most of the of the 12 Tarzan pictures that ran from 1932 to 1948. She performed many stunts, including swinging from vines, swimming across burning rivers and putting her head in the mouth of a tiger.
The most infamous rock and roll meeting of all time occurred when Elvis Presley met The Beatles on August 27, 1965. John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison and Ringo Starr along with their manager Brian Epstein, publicist and assistants came to Presley’s house at 525 Perugia Way in Los Angeles (Bel Air) to meet their rock and roll idol.
The Beatles were the ones who pushed for the meeting. After all, it was Elvis who was one of the main influences for John Lennon to start the band. “Without Elvis, there would be no Beatles,” Lennon famously remarked in later years.
During their concert tour in the summer of 1964, The Beatles tried to arrange a meeting with Elvis, but they could never coordinate their schedules. Instead, manager Colonel Parker visited with The Beatles and gave them gifts of Elvis souvenirs.
Finally, in August 1965, the stars seemed to align since The Beatles were in L.A. for their concert at The Hollywood Bowl and Elvis was in L.A. having just returned from Hawaii where he was filming Paradise Hawaiian Style.
Elvis’ friend and confidante Jerry Schilling was there on the night, and revealed it started with an awkward silence: “It was a little strange right in the beginning. Elvis didn’t usually have entertainers at his house. At the time, The Beatles were at the top of their career. Elvis sits down on the couch and the guys didn’t know what to say. He said to them, ‘If you’re going to sit here all night staring at me I’m going to bed.’ They laughed and that broke the ice. It was an exciting night.”
PAUL: So although we tried many times [to meet Elvis], Colonel Tom [Parker, his manager] would just show up with a few souvenirs, and that would have to do us for a while. We didn’t feel brushed off we felt we deserved to be brushed off. After all, he was Elvis, and who were we to dare to want to meet him? But we finally received an invitation to go round and see him when he was making a film in Hollywood.
JOHN: We were always in the wrong place at the wrong time to meet him, and we would have just gone round or something, but there was a whole lot of palaver about where we were going and how many people should go and everything, with the managers, Colonel Tom and Brian [Epstein], working everything out.
GEORGE HARRISON: Meeting Elvis was one of the high-lights of the tour. It was funny, because by the time we got near his house we’d forgotten where we were going. We were in a Cadillac limousine, going round and round along Mulholland, and we’d had a couple of “cups of tea” in the back of the car. It didn’t really matter where we were going – it’s like the comedian Lord Buckley says, “We go into a native village and take a couple of peyote buds, we might not find out where we is, but we’ll sure find out who we is.”
Anyway, we were just having fun, we were all in hysterics. (We laughed a lot. That’s one thing we forgot about for a few years - laughing. When we went through all the lawsuits, it looked as if everything was bleak, but when I think back to before that, I remember we used to laugh all the time.) We pulled up at some big gates and someone said, “Oh yeah, we’re going to see Elvis,” and we all fell out of the car laughing, trying to pretend we weren’t silly: just like a Beatles cartoon.
JOHN: It was very exciting, we were all nervous as hell, and we met him in his big house in L.A. - probably as big as the one we were staying in, hut it still felt like “big house, big Elvis.” He had lots of guys around him, all these guys that used to live near him (like we did from Liverpool; we always had thousands of Liverpool people around us, so I guess he was the same). And he had pool tables! Maybe a lot of American houses are like that, but it seemed amazing to us. It was like a nightclub.
RINGO: I was pretty excited about it all, and we were lucky because it was the four of us and we had each other to be with. The house was very big and dark. We walked in, and Elvis was sitting down on a settee in front of the TV. He was playing a bass guitar, which even to this day I find very strange. He had all his guys around him, and we said, “Hi, Elvis.” He was pretty shy, and we were a little shy, but between the five of us we kept it rolling. I felt I was more thrilled to meet him than he was to meet me.
PAUL: He showed us in, and he was great. I mean it was Elvis. He just looked like Elvis-we were all major fans, so it was hero worship of a high degree. He said, “Hello, lads - do you want a drink?” We sat down, and we were watching telly, and he had the first remote switcher any of us had ever seen. You just aimed it at the telly and – wow! That’s Elvis! He was playing [Charlie Rich’s] “Mohair Sam” all evening – he had it on a jukebox.
JOHN: It was nice meeting Elvis. He was just Elvis, you know? He seemed normal to us, and we were asking about his making movies and not doing any personal appearances or TV. I think he enjoys making movies so much. We couldn’t stand not doing personal appearances, we’d get bored – we get bored quickly. He says he misses it a bit.
We never talked about anything [else] – we just played music. He wasn’t bigger than us, but he was “the thing.” He just wasn’t articulate, that’s all.
PAUL: These were great times, so even if you didn’t enjoy all of the events that much, you could still go home to Liverpool and say, “Well, you know who I met?” I mean, to meet Elvis, or anybody like that, or to say you’ve been to Sunset Strip – it was very impressive.”
The meeting was not publicized and there were no recordings and unfortunately no professional photos taken. It has been speculated that the Colonel let it be known to some though because there were fans outside the gates. It is said these photographs were taken by a fan from an adjacent tree somewhere between 2:30 and 3:30 AM.
The Beatles leaving Elvis’ house in Bel Air, CA – Aug. 27, 1965. The photo shows John (in white pants), George (far right) and Elvis (left corner).
Elvis walking alongside the limo. Inside limo: Paul, Ringo and Brian Epstein.
The Beatles’ driver Alf Bicknell walking past reporters towards second limousine that carries George and John.
Flanked by his girlfriend Priscilla and friends, Elvis bids the Beatles a friendly goodbye. Back Row: Elvis, Alveena the maid, Patsy Lacker. Front row: Chris Hutchins, Priscilla (pink and white). Jo Fortas (red pants) and Jo Smith.
Kindergarten teacher Helen Hulick made Los Angeles court history — and struck a blow for women’s fashion — in 1938.
On November 9, 1938, Helen Hulick had been called to the court on L.A as a witness of a burglary, occurred right inside her property. She came in front of the court by wearing slacks, piece of clothing that wasn’t very common to see on a female body at the time. Judge Arthur S. Guerin rescheduled her testimony and ordered her to wear a dress next time.
Helen Hulick appeared in court wearing slacks, which the presiding judge objected too and forbid her from testifying due to her clothes.
Helen Hulick went to jail for wearing slacks in a courtroom.
The young woman, 28, declared bluntly to the Los Angeles Times: “You tell the judge I will stand on my rights. If he orders me to change into a dress I won’t do it. I like slacks. They’re comfortable”.
She returned to court five days later in slacks. This triggered the wrath of the judge, perhaps irritated by the bright colors of her look, green and orange, carried with proud of the flag of “nursery teacher”.
One more time the judge stopped the court and addressing to her, irritated, said: “The last time you were in this court dressed as you are now and reclining on your neck on the back of your chair, you drew more attention from spectators, prisoners and court attaches than the legal business at hand. You were requested to return in garb acceptable to courtroom procedure. Today you come back dressed in pants and openly defying the court (…) The court hereby orders and directs you to return tomorrow in accepted dress. If you insist on wearing slacks again you will be prevented from testifying (…) But be prepared to be punished according to law for contempt of court.”
Slack-shrouded Miss Hulick was accompanied by Attorney William Katz, who carried four heavy volumes of citations relative to his client’s right to appear in court in whatever dress she chose.
“Listen,” said the young woman, “I’ve worn slacks since I was 15. I don’t own a dress except a formal. If he wants me to appear in a formal gown that’s okay with me. I’ll come back in slacks and if he puts me in jail I hope it will help to free women forever of anti-slackism.”
The next day, Hulick showed up in slacks. Judge Guerin held her in contempt. She was given a five-day sentence and sent to jail, where she was forced to wear a dress, made out of denim, or the prisoners.
Helen Hulick, wearing a jail-issued dress, her attorney William Katz and notary Jeanette Dennis work on getting her released.
Teacher Helen Hulick, lawyer William Katz and notary Jeannette Dennis, as Hulick was swearing to the writ of habeas corpus on which she was released from jail. She was given a five-day sentence by judge Arthur Guerin for contempt of court by wearing slacks in court after 2 warnings.
Hulick was released on her own recognizance after her attorney obtained a writ of habeas corpus and declared he would carry the matter to the Appellate Court. Hundreds sent letters of protest to the courthouse. Guerin’s contempt citation was overturned by the Appellate Division during a habeas corpus hearing. Hulick was free to wear slacks to court.
On January 17, 1939, Helen Hulick came back to court. Her point made, this time she wore a dress.
A vintage photo from the Walt Disney Archives lets us peek in to Disneyland’s backstage cafeteria in 1961.
What a deal! Two eggs, potatoes and toast for 50 cents; cereal or the pie à la mode special for a quarter. Those and plenty of other offerings were on the menu at this Disneyland cafeteria 60 years ago. It was an exciting time at Disney’s first park, just six years old when this truly behind-the-scenes photo was snapped in July 1961.
Barely a month earlier, the Monorail track was extended to the Disneyland Hotel and the park hosted its very first Grad Nite Party, where teens dressed up and spent the night eating, dancing and enjoying many of the attractions. And speaking of dressing up and eating, you could always catch a character—in full regalia—on break in one of the Disneyland employee cafeterias. After all, even they got hungry and took a tasty break from time to time to enjoy the eateries’ yummy offerings. Matter of fact, Snow White said all the food was great, but she kept away from the apple pie.
This early prototype of the automated teller machine (ATM) was displayed for the first time at the American Bankers Association annual meeting in San Francisco, California on October 25, 1966. Banks of the future may have “tellers” installed in office and apartment house lobbies. Richard Glyer demonstrates how to deposit a check in one. Through the medium of automation he can talk to a teller whom he sees on the television screen. She will answer his questions, cash checks and issue currency from his account.
(AP Photo/Ernest K. Bennett)
In 1969, however, the first true ATM able to dispense cash via a magnetically encoded card appeared in a Long Island, NY, branch of Chemical Bank. Today there are 2.2 million ATMs worldwide, located everywhere from retail stores to the frozen wastes of Antarctica's McMurdo Station.
Long before Silicon Valley skyrocketed the rent in San Francisco or scooters littered the streets of Los Angeles, California was a symbol of cultural change.
During the ’60s and ’70s, California experienced a renaissance. With hippies taking over the corner of Ashbury and Haight streets and Hollywood producing game-changing movies, California was at its peak.
These fascinating color photos were found by vvspics that show a wonderful life of California during the 1960s.
Snow used to fall in L.A. about once every few years, but 1949 was one of the last, with up to a foot of snow falling in parts of the city. Smaller snows would be recorded in 1957 and 1962, but not a flake has fallen since and each year that passes, it becomes less and less likely that the city will ever see snow again.
In 1999, on the 50th anniversary of the 1949 snowfall, Los Angeles Times columnist Cecilia Rasmussen wrote:
On Jan. 10, 1949, in the middle of the worst housing shortage in Los Angeles history, more than half an inch of snow covered the Civic Center. The San Fernando Valley was pelted with the unfamiliar white stuff for three days, accumulating almost a foot. The Rose Bowl was transformed into “a dishpan full of milk,” by one account. An Alhambra hardware store put up a sign that said, “Snow Plows for Rent — Hurry!” A snowman appeared in Eagle Rock, wearing a sombrero, and the city of Reno, Nev., sent L.A. a snow shovel.
Other fun-seekers toted sleds, inner tubes — almost every imaginable means of transport on a coat of snow that fell soft as confectioner’s sugar as far away as Catalina.
Angelenos were forced to exchange their shorts and coconut oil for bulky jackets and gloves as flatland suburbanites scraped ice off windshields and downtown workers cursed the city’s hilly terrain.
The rare snowfall produced wondrous vistas and unexpected difficulties, as some motorists besieged with frozen radiators were trapped in their cars in Laurel Canyon for several hours. Farther north, the engine of crooner Bing Crosby’s green Cadillac froze near Castroville, where a kind motorist gave him a lift into town.
Snowball fights were fun and harmless, until three teenage boys began throwing snowballs at a streetcar stopped at Washington Boulevard and Hoover Street, breaking a window and injuring a woman passenger.
While we won’t be sitting around waiting for a blizzard to show up on the forecast, we can at least appreciate these images that show us just what a snow-covered city looked like in 1949:
Cars line up on Sepulveda Boulevard in Sherman Oaks while waiting for ice to melt before driving over a hill to the Beverly Hills area on January 12, 1949. Cars with chains were allowed through. At noon the road was opened. (Los Angeles Times)
An automobile parked near the Rose Bowl at Linda Vista Avenue and Lida Street sits covered with snow. (Al Humphreys / Los Angeles Times)
Patricia and James Perkins of Riverside, like most members of a new generation, see snow for the first time. (Los Angeles Times)
Snow covered a home on Opechee Way in the Verdugo Woodlands area of North Glendale. (Los Angeles Times)
Mrs. and Mr. Harvey Tibbals put the finishing touches on a snowman outside their La Crescenta Avenue home in Montrose. (Los Angeles Times)
