Previous Out There stories

Community center is on the border between the Crips and Bloods but an informal truce keeps its mural free of graffiti and allows rival gang members and needy families to receive services.

A new hotel, restaurants and time-share condos are planned for the area, which was devastated by a storm and fire in 1988. But opponents fear the loss of the intimate atmosphere.

A 25-year battle over property also known as Elephant Hill ends with development ruled out. The next step: preserving ‘a place of nature and solitude.’

The enclave is home to five papers catering to Vietnamese Americans’ interests - and one of them just started up this summer. Despite the economy, all are doing well.

The rare reptile may have one more chance, thanks to the U.S. 9th Circuit Court of Appeals.

In the Santiago blaze, firefighters stumbled across the site where two bandits were lynched in 1857. Such testaments to California’s vigilante past are sprinkled throughout the state.

Tainted soil forces the shuttering of the complex in the South L.A. area. Of more than 250 families who called the complex home, only 14 remain. Tenants say the county is mishandling their relocation.

The dilapidated post-WWII motel and restaurant sits on 64 acres that have been approved for a 1,500-home development, but a local conservancy files suit to save the landmark that served as the hub of an agricultural city.

The Planetary Society, devoted to exploring space, has worked out of a 1903 Greene and Greene house for more than 20 years. Now it has put the property up for sale in pursuit of modern digs.

Once a destination spot with killer surf, the beach-side community has lost some of its appeal. Developers have plans for residential and retail space, but residents wonder if they’ll go too far.

Since 2007, an L.A. physicians’ group, trying to encourage black men to get checkups, has been doing exams at barbershops. More than 1,200 men have been screened for diabetes and high blood pressure.

Orange County’s unincorporated Colonia Independencia rejected annexation in 2005, but some residents think cityhood would fix blight and gang violence. Anaheim offers to accept properties one by one.

A big-box store would hurt small businesses in the neighborhood north of Watts, but would also bring jobs and low prices.

Troupe performs original works, compares Henry Wadsworth Longfellow with hip-hop artist Talib Kweli, and recites lively versions of Ezra Pound, Langston Hughes, Gwendolyn Brooks and Edgar Allan Poe.

A warehouse where the homeless can keep their belongings is adjusting as more families -- and even educated professionals -- seek aid. It’s getting more bins and may add a dressing area.

When residents in the Eagle Rock area found nearly a dozen facilities in a 2-mile radius, they petitioned City Hall for a say in how the shops are approved.

With slayings in the community at their lowest level in 25 years, people are walking the streets again. Once resembling a military operation, law enforcement is engaging more with residents.

As the recession grinds on, the Pacific Gateway Career Transition Center staff hands out more tissues than job referrals to sometimes tearful people out of work.

Barlow Respiratory in Elysian Park has the look of a pastoral summer camp. The 25-acre property is being redeveloped to enlarge the treatment facility while maintaining the campus’ homey feel.

Residents upset over Police Chief Joe Romero’s removal vent their fury at the new mayor, Elliott Rothman. Pomona has had a tempestuous year, and many residents think something stinks.

‘Newbies’ and old guard alike agree the tree-lighting was beautiful, but the arguments behind the scenes -- over war stances, gay rights and eco-friendly lights -- were far from pretty.

The city and surrounding Antelope Valley have been hard hit by poverty, unemployment and foreclosures. The nearly complete eSolar facility could create jobs and restore a sense of pride.

Katrina Vieana’s house survived the Nov. 14 inferno, but it’s uninhabitable because the neighborhood is closed.

Once a high-crime zone, the district’s Washington Boulevard corridor is in a process of gentrification. Some remain skeptical about the neighborhood’s progress.

A doctor whose parents were scarred by the Holocaust runs a program in Long Beach to remove the tattoos of those looking for a fresh start.

Some residents say the agency acts like it runs the mountain town. The department says it’s the victim of a smear campaign by a few. With fire danger high, it’s more than just a provincial squabble.

The home of the Inland Empire’s aristocracy will continue to suffer a crisis of image and infrastructure unless the city adapts to new times, an economist says.

The hotel that once was the pride of the black community and resting spot for jazz greats is now in decay as it houses low-income tenants. Its future is riddled with uncertainty.

An unfinished loft project at the end of the main drag stands in marked contrast to the vibrant, artsy community that has emerged in the last decade.

Some residents in Sylmar and San Fernando support the move, but others believe it criminalizes an entire area.

Urban planners re-imagine the city’s concrete connectors as community oases, replacing trash and crime with trees, grass and swing sets -- and civic leaders are paying attention.

Sol Shankman is a fixture at Griffith Park, where he has been taking a daily hike for more than three decades. Although his pace has slowed, it sustains him.

Dogs and their people stroll the Strand of Hermosa Beach, taking in the panorama of land and sea, cyclists and sunbathers. Welcome to the Hermosa life.

An activist who grew up near a vacant lot that symbolized blight runs into an array of obstacles in her bid to bring a bit of green to the neighborhood near the 105 Freeway.

The square-mile Old Towne is California’s largest historic district. The barbershop is “circa 1955.” The Coba Academy beauty school sign boasts “Creating a World of Beauty Since 1965.”

A pearly gazebo next to City Hall sits atop a pristine lawn along a stretch of Las Tunas Drive dotted with quaint mom-and-pop businesses, noodle houses and Asian bridal stores.

In the South Bay community, the debate over aerial advertisements has reached a new high. But compromise is in the air.

If you’re cruising Coast Highway in search of the Fun Zone Ferris wheel, remember to turn seaward at the bridge. Otherwise, you’ll end up at Fashion Island in a universe where “Newport Coast” means mustard-and-terra-cotta-tinted mega-mansions and “Newport Harbor: The Real Orange County” is a show on MTV.

The women -- some just out of prison, others recently homeless -- have been given a chance to succeed, learning the techniques of fine cuisine at a Los Angeles cafe operated by a homeless center.

In the hot sun, Lankershim Boulevard in North Hollywood spreads out wide and flat, the granite fronts of office buildings glistening in the light. Austere sentinels of palm trees tower over the street.

The locals -- old-timers who live on their little boats -- have a lot to lose as development encroaches.

Along Fairfax Avenue, storefronts stand crunched together, the traditional adjacent to the trendy. At Solomon’s Bookstore, golden menorahs glisten on display and yarmulkes, a sign advertises, can be imprinted. Just steps away, the store called “A Life” displays T-shirts and sneakers in knife-straight rows behind glass, hip-hop music blasting.

Funded largely by West Hollywood, the racy Web show promotes safe sex at a time when diagnoses of AIDS and HIV are rising. The target is men too young to recall the disease’s early devastation.

Broadway’s fortunes have fallen and risen, but landmarks remain. The Grand Central Market is awash with the scent of fish, tortillas, barbecue and ripe vegetables. Outside the International House of Music, an old RCA Victor dog statue stands with its head cocked to hear the music.

In the battle for the historic area’s future, the neighborhood council is ground zero.

Those who have never seen Riverside may picture it in the language of L.A. drive-time radio: Triple digit heat. Foreclosures. Traffic. But unlike some cities on the coast, its 312,000 residents started long ago to transform their downtown rather than dismantle it.

Three sisters take over the dome in Landers, where therapeutic ‘sound baths,’ time travel and who knows what else are said to be possible.

Today, the urban avenue, with its colonial red-tile architecture, has the settled feel of a Mexican Mayberry. It passes the Centro Maravilla county offices, auto parts shops, and East L.A.’s only heated indoor pool, where aging women perform aqua aerobics.

In the inland city, sold as a sort of Napa of Southern California, as many as 15% of the 22,500 single-family homes may be bank-owned or in some stage of foreclosure.

Koreatown can feel like a visual din of symbols. Signs outside tea houses, restaurants and beauty shops are mostly in Korean, mystifying English- and Spanish-speaking commuters idling on car-clogged Western Avenue.

The man who watched his brothers fall victim to the streets found refuge in art. Many of his Locsters -- such as ‘Tattoo Tony’ -- are real people depicted as toys.

Stand still in the crush of sticky, sun-screened bodies on the Venice Beach Boardwalk and you’ll experience a feast for the senses.

No one called police for over an hour as the victim cried for help near Poinsettia Park. Residents say the area has been growing more dangerous, and they are organizing to fight crime.

For nearly a quarter of a century, Sister Nuala Ryan has taught music and been the Catholic chaplain at Lanterman Developmental Center in Pomona.

In the conservative Orange County town, where ‘hippie’ is a weight problem, homegrown activists are springing up to fight what they see as unchecked development. Photo Gallery