[Handsome Stranger]

[source: zocalopublicsquare.org]

Some of you might enjoy reading this as much as I did: My Getaway Car.

It's a fascinating firsthand account of what it was like to ride streetcars in Los Angeles in the 1940s, along with other snippets about city life.

Excerpt:

On Sunday afternoons I liked to ride the H car to the other end of the line. Just for pleasure. For two or three hours, I could forget the unpleasant realities of home and see the world. Sometimes I traveled alone. Other times I rode with my brother Raul, two years my junior. Eddie Ferrall, an amiable and voluble schoolmate of Raul’s, often accompanied us.

We sat in the back, where we raised the windows high to feel the breeze rush through as the car moved along its rails. At departure time, the conductor, who wore a dark uniform and a round cap with a visor, pulled a cord that sounded a clang to warn away pedestrians and motorists. The fare, which we deposited in a metal and glass box, was seven cents.

In a section of Hollywood the tracks ran along a narrow passage exclusively for streetcars. There, the conductor would open the throttle wide, and I’d experience the thrill of traveling at high speed. The end of the line was near Western and Melrose, a world away from 53rd and San Pedro. That’s where the conductor would switch the overhead trolley that connected to the power source wire above, flip the wooden seats forward, and take us back home.