Pio Pico (1801-1894) was born on May 5, 1807, and was the last Mexican Governor of Alta California. He played an influential role in politics--before and after American acquisition of the territory. He and his brothers were considerably wealthy--owning acres of land, and a sizeable amount of cattle. Pico elected architect Ezra F. Kysor to develop what he imagined would be the greatest hotel in Los Angeles. Construction began in the Fall of 1869 and was opened for business in the Summer of 1870. Pio and his brother, Andres, sold most of their landholdings in the San Fernarndo Valley in order to finance the construction of the hotel. The elegant, and ornate hotel was an immediate success, but it was short-lived. As the Southern legs of the railroad lines were completed in the 1870s, greater numbers of people flocked towards Los Angeles. The area surrounding the Pico Hotel became a racialized segment of the city. As the neighborhood declined, Pico's wealth declined as well. The Chinese Massacre of 1871 was said to have occurred very close to the Pico House. One Pico House employee claimed to have seen the massacre from his post at work. Pico spent much of his late years involved in litigation. He lost most of his property, and was left nearly destitute. He ultimately lost the hotel in 1880.

Newspaper describing a riot at/near the Pico House. Illustrating the decline of the area.

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Ghost Adventures episode/clips from their visit to the Pico House.

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Pico House Entry on El Pueblo website, LA City.

The Pico House/Hotel was constructed in 1869-1870 by Pio Pico, a successful businessman, and the last Mexican Governor of Alta California. The Pico House was the first three-story hotel in Los Angeles when it was created, and it had about 80 rooms. It is located across the street from Union Station and near El Pueblo de Los Angeles Historic Monument.

Pico House (Hotel)

This tour centers around Olvera Street and historic buildings and institutions in an area that is sometimes referred to as “the birthplace of Los Angeles.” The tour includes a historic church, monument to Mexican-American laborers, entries that reveal former buildings and businesses, a Mexican-American Marketplace, and a museum dedicated to the history of the Chinese American community. We hope to add additional entries for monuments, markers, and museums in the area. 

Founded on August 18, 1814 under Franciscan Fray Luis Gil y Taboada, La Iglesia de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles (The Church of Our Lady Queen of the Angels), didn't have a church building until 1784. Their second church building was constructed in 1822 to serve the new settlement of Los Angeles PobladoresThe chapel named&nbsp;La Iglesia de Nuestra Señora de los Ángeles was constructed using the materials left over from the original church building. Over the years the small chapel, which collected the nicknames "La Placita" and "Plaza Church, was the only Roman Catholic church in the emerging area of Los Angeles.The church has been operated by the&nbsp;Claretian Missionary Fathers since 1908 and was designated as a cultural landmark in 1962. Today the church is part of the Diocese of Los Angeles and serves as a neighborhood parish church.&nbsp;

La Iglesia de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles or The Church of Our Lady Queen of the Angels, is a historic Roman Catholic Church in Los Angeles. The church was founded by the Spanish settlers in the early 19th century at a time when modern-day California and much of the southern U.S., was under Spanish rule. El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles (the Town of Our Lady the Queen of the Angels) was the name of the Spanish city that would go on to be known as Los Angeles in the 20th Century. 

La Iglesia de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles (The Church of Our Lady Queen of the Angels)

Phillippe Garnier constructed the building specifically for Chinese merchants and organizations. Interestingly, he only built the exterior walls; he allowed the Chinese occupants to arrange the interior as they pleased. Between 1890-1948, the building housed an importing firm and other businesses, the headquarters of the Chinese Benevolent Society, schools, churches, and temples. These organizations and institutions were very important, not only to maintain cohesion among the community but to also serve as an intermediary between the community and the rest of the city and American society. The city forced the community to move to its current location (New Chinatown) beginning in the 1930s because of the planned construction of Union Station. Fortunately, the Garnier Building survived.

The Chinese American Museum is dedicated to preserving and promoting the cultural heritage of Chinese immigrants in California. To this end, it offers fine art and historical exhibits using items in its collection of 7,500 items, which includes artifacts, documents, and photographs. It opened in 2003 after 20 years of planning, becoming the first museum of its kind in Southern California. It is housed in the historic Garnier Building, which was constructed in 1890 by Philippe Garnier who rented it to Chinese merchants and organizations (many Chinese social functions were held here as well). As such, the building became the center of Chinese cultural life for much of the first half of the 1900s. 

The building is also significant because it is the last remaining Chinese building in Southern California. It is also a contributing property of the El Pueblo de Los Ángeles Historical Monument, a historic district in the oldest part of the city that was once the center of the city and eventually home to the city's original Chinatown. The museum's aim is to not only highlight Chinese contributions but to celebrate the multi-cultural heritage of Los Angeles and Southern California as well. 

Chinese American Museum

The Avila Adobe was built in 1818 by Francisco José Avila, a native of Sinaloa, Mexico who was a famous and affluent ranchero, or cattle rancher. He was also the mayor of Los Angeles from the years 1810-1811. In 1823, the Mexican government granted Francisco Avila a large 4,439-acre land grant which covered much of present-day Beverly Hills and the Miracle Mile district. This land was called Rancho Las Cienegas, near La Brea Pits, approximately seven miles west of the pueblo.    Although the house was renovated in 1929 to prevent the state of California from tearing it down, the Avila Adobe still has the look and feel of early 19th century Californio, when Mexico owned present-day California. The Adobe Avila is immaculately built of tar from the La Brea Tar Pits, clay from the LA River and wood from the riverbank. This beautiful historic home features 3-foot-thick walls made of sun baked adobe brick over cottonwood timbers, a traditional interior courtyard, and 1840s-era furnishings that bring to life an era when the city was still part of Mexico. The ceilings, which are still the original, are fifteen feet high with support beams made from cottonwood. The floor of the building was originally hard-as-concrete compacted earth. This concrete replica was swept several times a day to keep the surface smooth. It was later covered with varnished wood planks.Today the Avila has seven rooms left. The largest room in the home is the family room which was used for dining, entertaining and social gatherings. The 'sala' or living room was only used for special occasions such as weddings or baptisms. Other areas of the adobe include a large courtyard with covered porches, stables and workshops. Following Francisco Avila's death in 1832, his second wife, Encarnación Avila, continued to live in the house with her two daughters. From January 10-19, 1847, the Avila Adobe was captured and used as a military headquarters by the invading North American army under Robert Stockton in the Mexican-American War. After Encarnación Avila died in 1855, the home passed to her two daughters, Luisa and Francisca and their husbands, Manuel Garfias and Theodore Rimpau. Francisca and Theodore Rimpau and their nine children continued to live in the adobe from 1855 to 1868. From 1868 to the early 1920s, the adobe was rented and used as a restaurant, rooming house for transients, or was often vacant. The Avila Adobe's condition slowly worsened and was finally condemned in 1926 by the City Health Department, which caught the attention of Christine Sterling, who began a public campaign to save the adobe. After a few short years of trying to find funds to restore the house, Sterling was able to find the funds to restore the house after a few short years thanks to awareness brought forth from LA Times owner Harry Chandler.

Avila Adobe is believed to be the oldest surviving residence in Los Angeles. The structure was built in 1818 by the mayor of Los Angeles, Francisco Jose Avila. The area was part of Mexico at that time, and the mayor, like nearly all others in the area, where either citizens of Mexico or members of Native American tribes. Today, the home is located in the paseo of historical Olvera Street within the Plaza Historic District- a California State Historic Park.

Avila Adobe

In the wake of the Mexican Revolution, 1910 to 1917, Los Angeles experienced a surge of Mexican migration, including Mexican peasants and some Mexican revolutionaries.[1] Many migrants arrived in Los Angeles with hopes of finding seasonal labor opportunities. Although many employers welcomed ethnic Mexican labor, the possibility of permanent Mexican residence petrified Anglo Los Angelenos. Since the 19th century, Anglo Americans migrated to Southern California to establish an Anglo utopia across the region. From Los Angeles to Riverside, Anglo-Americans mobilized in force to redefine Southern California as an Anglo paradise. This synthetic society "replaced violent conquest with the myth of inevitable progression towards Anglo American civilization.[2] To combat the rising number of ethnic Mexican laborers arriving in Southern California, Anglo officials developed racial scripts against ethnic Mexican residents and citizens to limit their liberty and rights. For example, businessman C.M Gothe was an ethnic Mexican labor opponent who argued that it was "the Mexican Indian's [sic.] "hopes of gaining for his children the precious genes of the Nordics, [so] that the latter may become mestizo.'"[3] The criminalization of ethnic Mexicans labeled them as a threat to Anglo Los Angelenos. To Gothe and other nativists, Los Angeles had to control the ethnic Mexican migrants arriving in the city. Gothe was not alone in his thinking as various other Anglo residents utilized ethnic Mexican scripts to dehumanize migrants and residents. By labeling Mexicans as a "criminal, social, diseased, and [an] unassimilable workforce," Anglo Americans limited ethnic Mexicans' liberties and rights.[4] The influx of Mexican migration to Los Angeles compelled Anglo-American residents and officials to reimagine and preserve the "Spanish Fantasy Past" to control the ethnic Mexican population. The pressure to fortify this fantasy led Christine Sterling and others to preserve decaying structures, such as the Avila Adobe, and market them as an Anglo tourist destination. Preserving the Avila Adobe would personify " [a] Spanish past replete with images of charming señoritas and handsome Caballeros" while perpetuating ethnic Mexican scripts.[5] In this manufactured fantasy, Sterling and other Anglo preservationists envisioned the Avila Adobe and Plaza Olvera to be a location where ethnic Mexican laborers worked to fulfill the needs of Anglo-American tourists.	Sterling's efforts to redefine the Avila Adobe and the Plaza Olvera as a physical embodiment of "the Spanish Fantasy Past" were successful and she widely praised by the media. Not only did Sterling collaborate with Harry Chandler, the "publisher of the Los Angeles Times," to receive publicity for this newly established tourist destination but received accolades from independent filmmakers as well.[6] In 1937, filmmaker William Pizor created a short film on the history and attractions at the Plaza Olvera. His short film "Street of Memory" capitalized on "the Spanish Fantasy Past" and racial scripts to captivate his Anglo-American audience. Throughout the film, Pizor highlighted ethnic Mexican laborers as 'lazy' and 'poor Mexicans.'[7] Moreover, Pizor consciously whitewashed the history of the Avila Adobe. In this scene, the narrator declared that it was the "descendants of the early settlers [of Los Angeles]" who fought to preserve the Adobe.[8]Pizor falsely claimed that Sterling and other Anglo preservationists were the Californios' descendants to perpetuate “the Spanish Fantasy Past." This statement disregarded the ethnic Mexican merchants and laborers of Plaza Olvera as second-class citizens, denigrating their contributions to the Los Angeles economy. Pizor's film also reflected how filmmakers and preservationists applied racial epithets to dehumanize ethnic Mexicans while maintaining white supremacy in Los Angeles. Pizor’s film and other contributing media had a phenomenal impact on Plaza Olvera's success as an Anglo tourist destination. 	During the Second World War, The Los Angeles Times advertised the Plaza Olvera and Avila Adobe as the ideal local tourist destination. In a news article from July 15th, 1945, the Los Angeles Times marketed the Plaza Olvera as an enjoyable and patriotic 'vacation' that respected "government warnings to stay off the war burdened railroads" and other modes of transportation.[9] By marketing the Plaza Olvera and Avila Adobe as a Mexican tourist destination, the Los Angeles Times erased the complex Californio-Indigenous history of the 19th century. By arguing that visiting the Plaza Olvera was a synthetic reproduction of Mexico, Anglo residents were more inclined to explore this tourist attraction; thus, perpetuating "the Spanish Fantasy Past" as an American symbol of Anglo patriotism during the war. Finally, this advertisement reinstalled the notion of American imperialism, shrouded under the pretense of tourism. By perpetuating ethnic Mexican scripts through various examples of Mexican merchants, including Julio Rueda, the "fierce mustached potter," and describing the Plaza as a picturesque location with "exotic trees" and a "peaceful patio" with fluttering doves, the Los Angeles Times eloquently exploited the Plaza Olvera's history and ethnic Mexican culture. [10]	However, as more Mexican and Latin American individuals began to immigrate to Los Angeles in the late 20thcentury, the narrative of "the Spanish Fantasy Past" attached to the Plaza Olvera and the Avila Adobe changed. Many ethnic Mexicans and Latin Americans began to embrace the complex history of the Plaza, one which underscored the history of Californios and its Indigenous roots. For instance, in 1989, Lazaro Arvizo founded Xipe Totec, an Aztec Dance company based in Los Angeles.[11] These Latina/o dancers reproduced "ceremonious dances taught [to them] by their elders" in Plaza Olvera, near the Avila Adobe. The location around the Avila Adobe also became a center for protest for former braceros demanding economic redress.[12] These individuals, once described as "Birds of Passage," reclaimed their liberties and rights as laborers while also re-latinizing the city of Los Angeles.[13] Rather than submitting to the "Spanish Fantasy Past” narrative, the Latina/o population of Los Angeles redefined the history and culture of the Avila Adobe, and in turn, the Plaza Olvera while celebrating the rich and complex history of Latina/os and Indigenous peoples in Los Angeles.

Nestled between El Paseo Restaurant and a Mexican storefront, the Avila Adobe reflects the complex history between ethnic Mexicans and Anglo-American migrants during the 20th century. Constructed in 1818 by Francisco Avila, a wealthy Californio, Avila employed adobe material because it was ideal for the Southwest climate.  However, in the early 19th century, Anglo-Americans migrating to California denounced the adobe as dirty and ineffective. As Anglo-Americans arrived West to achieve their 'Manifest Destiny,' the Californios' adobe's fate was compromised. From 1846 to 1848, the Mexican-American War ensued throughout the Southwest for control of the region. In 1848, Mexican and American officials signed The Treaty of Guadalupe-Hidalgo. This treaty led to the demise of Avila and his adobe's prominence in a conquered Anglo California. Many Anglos viewed the Californios' adobes as backward, as adobe represented "the unusable past."  Almost a century later, Los Angeles disregarded the Avila Adobe as a decaying structure in Plaza Olvera, selected to be the next tourist attraction for Anglo-Americans. However, in 1926, Christine Sterling and various preservationists established a movement to save the Avila Adobe.  Although Sterling fought to preserve the Adobe, she had ulterior motives. Like many Anglo-American preservationists of her time, Sterling was a proponent of the "Spanish Fantasy Past," which pined for a "romantic Spanish Era in California" while erasing Californio and Indigenous history.   While Sterling and local activists successfully lobbied for the preservation of the Adobe, their movement would inevitably perpetuate ethnic Mexican scripts while erasing the true history of the Avila Adobe. 

The Hidden History of the Avila Adobe

Though references to Los Angeles' Spanish Fantasy Past were abundant, there were few visible examples of it in 1920s Los Angeles. The city was modernizing at a rapid rate, and there were few vestiges of the Mexican/Spanish past that Anglos had supplanted. The city devoted much of its energies to advertising its modernity, and very little to bringing up its ethnic past. According to historian Phoebe Kropp, Christine Sterling, a newcomer to Los Angeles in the 1920s, was disappointed by what she didn't see. The Plaza was the previous center of the Mexican pueblo of Los Angeles, but it did not display its past in a pretty, touristy package. Instead, the center of the Mexican town had fallen into disrepair, and had become a synonymous with vice, urban blight, and immigration. Sterling appealed to the Los Angeles Chamber of Commerce and asked them to endorse her plan to transform the Plaza into a tourist attraction. Civic Boosters--many of whom had supported mission revival and boosterism of El Camino Real--saw an opportunity to turn the "slum" into a profit-generating tourist spot where they could capitalize off of the romanticized vision of Los Angeles' Spanish and Mexican influence. &nbsp;With help from the Chamber, Sterling transformed the street into a pedestrian promenade and restored a number of buildings. The Depression seemed to have little influence on Sterling's project. She was able to construct fountains and small wooden booths on the street. According to Kropp, Sterling's foray into preserving (and creating) the Plaza involved "a well-rehearsed preservation script, effectively combining narratives of Anglos' patriotic duty, imminent doom, female historical housekeeping, and civic altruism in order to amplify her cause."1 A major hurdle for Sterling and other boosters/backers of the Plaza project involved divorcing the Plaza from its actual Mexican/ethnic past in favor of a romanticized, fictional one. Sterling had to justify her project as one that worked to improve that area. Under her care and supervision, she could transform a dirty, ethnic, vice-ridden place into a picturesque site of leisure for Anglo tourists.

Olvera Street in Los Angeles has become a representative symbol of "Old Town" Los Angeles. Sometimes called “the birthplace of Los Angeles,” it is a Mexican Marketplace that recreates a romanticized “Old Los Angeles” with a narrow, tree-shaded, brick-lined market with old structures, street vendors, painted stalls, cafes, restaurants and gift shops.  Olvera Street was created in 1930.

Olvera Street/Calle Olvera

The Bracero program was created in 1942 because U.S. farm-owners believed that there would be labor shortages due to World War II. Therefore, Mexico and the United States agreed to a bi-national agreement that allowed the United States to import Mexican contract-based labor. The Mexican government agreed to send workers to the United States because it was seen as an alternative to Mexican participation in the Allied armed forces. Additionally, some scholars suggest that the Mexican government agreed to the Bracero program to curtail mass emigration. The Mexican government realized they could not prevent mass emigration so they wanted to regulate it. The United States began employing Braceros on September 27, 1942. The program was originally scheduled to end after World War II, but lasted till 1964. From 1948 to 1964, the United States imported an average of 200,000 Braceros a year. The Braceros primarily worked in the agricultural field, while some of them worked on the railroad.[1]        Under the basic terms of the agreement, the Braceros were supposed to be paid at least an agreed-upon minimum wage (30¢ during the war and 50¢ throughout most of the 1950s). As farm laborers in Mexico, one would earn 65¢ a day while the average Bracero in Texas could be making 50¢ an hour. Although the Bracero wages weren’t enough to live in the U.S., they were significant raises from the wages in Mexico. This was the main reason many Mexicans wanted to become Braceros. However, many Bracero workers were paid less than the amount stipulated in the contract. Bernardo Blanco, the Mexican consul at McAllen, Texas estimates that over 50% of the contract workers were underpaid. He received six to seven complaints a day from Braceros that stated they were getting paid about 30¢-35¢ an hour rather than the contract rate of 50¢ an hour. The contract also stipulated that Braceros would be provided transportation, housing, food, repatriation, exemption from the American military, and protection from any form of discrimination. In exchange for their pay, the Braceros faced grueling 10 to 12-hour shifts that frequently required the use of a short-handled hoe, a tool that harms the back from excessive bending. Additionally, the Braceros were required to live in small aluminum houses. These sheds were overcrowded and distant from society. In the cold weather, the shelters lacked heat and during the heat, there was no air conditioning. The USES found deficiencies in about one-third to one-half of their housing inspections. Also, the food provided to the workers was minimal and lacked quality. The contracts were unable to be enforced due to federal agencies lacking resources to do their jobs. For instance, in Southern California, which had fifty thousand Braceros, the Department of Labor had six enforcement officers. Additionally, large farm growers would bribe the Solicitor's Office of the Labor Department and discipline small growers who abided by their contract, subjecting them to abnormal amounts of investigation.[2]        Furthermore, the Bracero program encouraged more illegal immigration. In the agreement that Mexico made with the United States, Mexico did not want Braceros working in places such as Texas or Arkansas due to discrimination. Therefore, growers in these states resorted to illegal immigration. Also, more Mexicans wanted to become Braceros to pursue higher wages. The government did not have enough space for everyone, so Mexicans fled illegally to the United States. Additionally, undocumented immigration rose because of the Hart-Celler Law. This ended the racial quota system and launched a trend of restrictive immigration policies towards Mexico. The combined effects of the end of the Bracero program with this policy, heavily restricted pathways of legal entry, and led to a rise in undocumented immigration. The undocumented immigrants worked for 25¢ an hour, about two-thirds of the Bracero rate. The undocumented immigrants became associated with disease and crime, and were seen as dangerous human beings. The Americans started associating the negative connotations of undocumented migrants to the Braceros. In a 1951 study sponsored by George Sanchez, a social scientist, he states, “They [Braceros] are lumped together as Mexicans and the characteristics that are observed by among the wetbacks are by extension assigned to the local people.”[3] In 1994, in an effort to curtail illegal immigration and preserve state resources for legal citizens in California, Prop. 187 was proposed. This proposition planned to limit undocumented immigrants’ ability to access vital public sources. Many White, Asian and African Americans joined immigrants to protest the proposition. Although the proposition passed, it was still met with fierce opposition. Ultimately, the proposition never went into fruition as it was deemed “unconstitutional.” This proposition is seen to be the driving force for why California has changed political parties. The Latino Decisions, a public opinion group, states, “California Republicans embarked on an anti-immigration agenda that alienated Latino voters and drove them into the open arms of the Democratic Party.”[4]' The monument represents California’s change of political parties and the state’s different immigration rhetoric. Jose Huizar, a former LA city council member viewed this monument as a response to anti-immigration rhetoric made by right-wing politiciansleaders. “We’re now sending a message, [erection of the Bracero monument]" he stated, "you can have your rhetoric that is anti-immigrant…We’re moving forward as a city of immigrants[5].” The Bracero monument symbolizes the contributions of the Braceros and commemorates them, while also symbolizing the fight for immigrants as a whole, to be treated equally. Additionally, the monument signifies the importance of immigrants and Braceros throughout history. Dan Medina, the creator of the statue states, “Although many complain about the immigrant, if you look at history through the scope of honesty, we wouldn’t be here without their contributions.”[6]The monument displays a Bracero worker holding a short-handled hoe, that displays the grueling work each Bracero faced. On the left of the worker, the worker’s wife holds their son while the son is raising his arm towards his father displaying the separation that Braceros felt while away from their families. The Braceros were forced to separate from their families due to the government’s belief that there was a higher likelihood of Braceros migrating back to Mexico because of their loved ones. The monument commemorates immigrants as a whole, while also placing a direct focus on the Braceros.[1] Hernandez, Kelly. “Mexican Immigration to the United States.” OAH Magazine of History. 26-27; Ngai, Mae. The Impossible Subjects. Princeton University Press. 138-141.[2] Ngai,Mae. The Impossible Subjects. Princeton University Press.138-144.; Goodman, Adam. The Deportation Machine. Princeton University Press. 47-54.[3] Ngai, Mae. The Impossible Subjects. Princeton University Press. 149, 147-152; Zepeda-Milan, Chris. Latino Mass Mobilization: Immigration, Racialization, and Activism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. CUP. 25-28.[4] McDermott, Marie. 2020. “Why is California a Blue State?” New York Times, November 6, 2020.[5] CNN Wire, 2019. “Los Angeles to Unveil Monument Honoring Bracero Migrants in Downtown.” KTLA 5 News, September 29, 2019.[6] Tcheckmedyian, Alene. 2019. “Monument honoring ‘braceros,’ Mexican migrant workers, unveiled in downtown L.A.” Los Angeles Times.  September 29, 2019.

Dedicated in 2019, this monument in the center of Migrants Bend Plaza commemorates a group of legal immigrants who endured difficult living conditions after being recruited to the United States to work owing to labor shortages in World War II and beyond. Between the start of World War II and the end of the Bracero Program in the mid-1960s, over four million laborers came to the United States at the request of employers and with the support of government leaders. The monument portrays a male laborer in the center holding as well as his wife and child, a reference to the families of Braceros who often stayed behind. The monument is important to many Americans, as well as the descendants of laborers of Mexican descent because this chapter of history has seldom been acknowledged. The statue signifies the Braceros' contribution to the United States as they played a vital role in the country’s economic success during and after World War II.

Old Town Los Angeles Walking Tour

Pico House (Hotel)

Introduction

Images

Backstory and Context

Additional Information