Feb 8, 2010
I see these Angelenos running around their pond and their demeanor tells me this place is their space. Their playing their trumpets and feeding the ducks. Two boys kick a soccer ball on a hill and watch it roll. They laugh hysterically. A mother and her three kids take a stroll and meet with another mother and her children. A man asks me if I’m stocking the pond with Trout because that’s what happens here. Another man asks when story hour starts because his girls are ready to listen. A bystander stops by wondering when we start recording because she’s heard all about us and she’s excited. We aren’t in Beverly Hills, or Santa Monica or in some gated community in the San Fernando Valley. We’re in East Los Angeles and people are ready for us.
Are those muddy tire marks on that grassy knoll there?
You know it!