Bob Baker

Even on the graffiti-scarred, concrete and barbed-wire fringe of a troubled city, a dream can survive. It's a weedy corner, the one near downtown Los Angeles, where 1st and 2nd streets converge on Glendale Avenue and Beverly Boulevard. At rush hour, streams of traffic race by in hot pursuit of freeway on-ramps. Harried drivers may not notice the white, cinder-block building there--the one with the faded clown and the plaster rose bushes out in front.

Alton Wood, 89, partner and co-founder of Bob Baker Marionette Productions, one of the longest continuously running puppet theaters in the United States, died Tuesday at his home in Los Angeles. A native of Mathais, Texas, Wood grew up in San Antonio. His first professional interest was music, and he graduated from the University of Texas with a bachelor's degree in music. After graduation, Wood studied piano in New York City before relocating to Los Angeles.

What burns inside us? Why can't we watch the Big Spin without somebody alongside us commenting dourly about the number of Spanish-speaking winners? Why can't we watch a professional basketball game without someone alongside us feeling obligated to mention that everyone on the court is black? Why, after so many painful decades of introspection about prejudice and racism and discrimination, does the awful self-consciousness remain?

Federal highway safety inspectors have released new details of a fatal car crash that triggered Toyota Motor Corp.'s largest recall, including a finding that the Lexus ES 350 sedan involved had a gas pedal design that could increase the risk of its being obstructed by a floor mat. Toyota has previously said that the floor mat was improperly installed and may have trapped the accelerator pedal, causing the vehicle to race down Highway 125 in...

"No messages, just a little love." That's puppet master Bob Baker's accurate description of what happens inside the Bob Baker Marionette Theater, a historic fixture on the unglamorous outskirts of downtown L.A. for more than 40 years. Behind the humble facade of that cinder-block building, with its cracked concrete patio, faded plaster clown and painted daisies, cozy marionette magic is still making children smile six days a week.

Having a police force that is too small has its rewards, at least for the bank accounts of officers patrolling Los Angeles' streets. Just ask the Los Angeles Police Department sergeant who made $240,000 last year -- $131,000 of that from working overtime. Or another sergeant, who added $105,800 in overtime pay to his $101,900 annual salary.

Shouted out by the Watts rioters of 1965, the phrase "Burn, baby! Burn!" had actually gotten its start as a catchphrase used by the popular radio disc jockey known as Magnificent Montague. Then working at Los Angeles radio station KGFJ, Montague had been using the phrase to introduce records he felt were really hot. Setting fire to buildings was not what he had meant at all.

One day, maybe not so many days from now, the Bob Baker Marionette Theater will be gone. Its debt will prove at last too much to bear. Its boxy white buildings will be sold. And people will be sad, particularly those who talked for years about going without doing so. "You better hurry up," says Baker, 88, whose pain-plagued hands and feet make it hard for him to walk and to get his beloved creations to dance. FULL COVERAGE: City Beat Outside his 53-year-old theater on a still scruffy edge of downtown, so much has changed in the world.

When he came to the United States from Korea 31 years ago, he was Chang Joon Kim, dishwasher and busboy. Now, he is Jay C. Kim, 53, the prosperous owner of an engineering firm and mayor of Diamond Bar, well on his way to becoming the first Korean-American elected to Congress. "I never dreamed that I would become a congressman," Kim said, as amazed as anyone that he captured the Republican nomination in the new 41st District, an area of burgeoning--and white-majority--suburbs where Los Angeles, Orange and San Bernardino counties meet.