Neighborhoods

Nevermind where we're going. Question is: Where are we now? "We're in Woodland Hills," said Anthony Tholberg as he stood outside his home late last week and mulled over that question. Tholberg, 23, grew up in the mid-century modern house in the 19800 block of Friar Street. No wonder he was puzzled when he was handed a copy of a new map that labeled his 54-home enclave as being in the community of Winnetka. The Los Angeles Times is unveiling the new map of neighborhoods today on its website at http://projects.

Kareen Sandoval was among the first to spot her tree, a skinny little thing about 9 feet tall with dark shimmering leaves. "Look how beautiful you are," she said, reaching for the trunk. "I want you to grow big and strong and never get knocked down. " Along 8th Street in Westlake on Saturday, volunteers planted 62 trees, but this was about more than mere beautification. Every tree honored a mother from the neighborhood, each one a woman whose volunteer work has made a difference in Westlake and Pico-Union, just west of downtown Los Angeles.

THERE is no single block that neatly sums up the way downtown Los Angeles is being transformed, condo by condo and loft by loft, into a place with real residential character. Just as there are many downtowns -- South Park, Little Tokyo, the historic core, skid row -- there are many architectural responses to the idea of downtown living in this city. But three residential developments on a stretch of Industrial Street, just off 7th Street near the L.A. River, come pretty close.

Just off the trendy Melrose strip, on the western edge of Hollywood, is a refuge of tree-lined streets where neighbors greet each other by name and young couples start families and stick around into their golden years. Lately, it has also become a battlefront in a broader clash of conflicting imperatives: how to balance a government push to keep the aging and disabled out of institutions against community desires to protect the character and value of residential neighborhoods, particularly in a shaky housing market.

On the West Side of San Bernardino, most everyone knew Johnny and Gilbert Agudo. They'd grown up in the tight-knit barrio. Handsome and charismatic, they were the presidents of two cliques of the West Side Verdugo street gang: Johnny, 31, of 7th Street Locos and Gilbert, 27, of the Little Counts. United, they led their gangs in feuds with rivals from other parts of town. But then things took an unexpected turn.

Pomona's Antique Row has seen tough times, with longtime shopkeepers along the distinctive two-block portion of East 2nd Street retiring or looking for other employment. But the conversion of historic buildings into residential lofts with ground-floor retail space may be the boon that the antiques dealers are seeking. Beginnings The opening of the nearby Montclair Plaza shopping center in 1968 is credited with Antique Row's emergence.

In life and in love, the Sassafras Lady of Topanga Canyon never seemed to catch a break. Not in death, either. Pamela Ingram certainly could have used some better luck as she battled to turn a poison oak-covered canyon gully into a delicate grotto with an international reputation for its British clematis vines and delicate perennials.

In 1985, Los Angeles rapper Toddy Tee released what could be considered West Coast hip-hop's opening salvo against police brutality in black neighborhoods. The electro-grooved "Batterram," named for the battering ram that then-LAPD Chief Daryl F. Gates used to smash into homes of suspected drug dealers, was a hit on local radio station KDAY-AM. The track went on to become a protest anthem in minority neighborhoods around the city where the device was often deployed against homes that were later proved drug-free: "You're mistakin' my pad for a rockhouse / Well, I know to you we all look the same / But I'm not the one slingin' caine / I work nine to five and ain't a damn thing changed …" rapped Toddy Tee. The L.A. riots of 1992 arrived with its soundtrack in place.

Dale Trader's heart sank when he looked across his shady Pasadena street one day and spotted workers wrapping a classic California bungalow in layers of chicken wire and thick, black tar paper. Another house was about to be stuccoed. Trader rushed across the street to dissuade his neighbors from covering their home's wood siding.

Los Angeles officials on Friday banned tall retaining walls that dot the city's canyon communities from Woodland Hills to Mount Washington, with critics calling the massive bulkheads "the hillside strangler." City Council members said the oversized concrete walls that loom over neighboring homes are wrecking the rustic feel of the city's canyons and hillsides.

They had names like Rebuild L.A., Community Coalition, the Koreatown Immigrant Workers Alliance. Their goals were nearly identical: provide new jobs and services to an underserved community. Improve neighborhoods. Build better relationships. The aftermath of the 1992 riots was a galvanizing moment for community activism, spawning groups formed out of City Hall, churches and local nonprofits. Some have endured over the last two decades, shifting their priorities as the city changed.

The line for a free breakfast snaked around Glide United Memorial Methodist Church. Police busted two men in a restaurant doorway. Panhandlers provided a neighborhood soundtrack. It was Sunday morning in the Tenderloin, and Mark Ellinger had pictures to take. Clutching a camera in his meaty right hand, cigarette poking out between his fingers, the photographer marveled at the carved stone lintel of the Marathon Hotel. He gestured toward the building that once housed famed madam Tessie Wall's last "parlor house.

The Federal Communications Commission has ruled in favor of Bloomberg Television in its bitter fight with Comcast Corp. over where its business channel was carried on the cable giant's systems. In a ruling issued by the agency's Media Bureau on Wednesday, the FCC agreed with Bloomberg that Comcast is required to place the business network in the same neighborhood as other news channels, particularly those owned by Comcast, including CNBC and MSNBC. "We agree with Bloomberg that the plain language of the condition suggests that the commission intended that the condition would apply to Comcast's existing channel lineups," the FCC said.

In 1985, Los Angeles rapper Toddy Tee released what could be considered West Coast hip-hop's opening salvo against police brutality in black neighborhoods. The electro-grooved "Batterram," named for the battering ram that then-LAPD Chief Daryl F. Gates used to smash into homes of suspected drug dealers, was a hit on local radio station KDAY-AM. The track went on to become a protest anthem in minority neighborhoods around the city where the device was often deployed against homes that were later proved drug-free: "You're mistakin' my pad for a rockhouse / Well, I know to you we all look the same / But I'm not the one slingin' caine / I work nine to five and ain't a damn thing changed …" rapped Toddy Tee. The L.A. riots of 1992 arrived with its soundtrack in place.

Cautious growth among white-collar firms kept the Los Angeles County office market flat in the first quarter as average rents and occupancy remained unchanged from a year earlier. A handful of neighborhoods such as Santa Monica, Pasadena and Glendale are tightening in favor of landlords, but others remain relative bargains for renters. "Santa Monica is a classic example of where there is a flood of activity by technology-minded companies that have really created an extensive demand, driving down vacancy and driving up rental rates," said Neal Resnick, managing director of property brokerage Avison Young.

The Los Angeles Times determined we have 114 separate and distinct neighborhoods here in Los Angeles. The city has posted several hundred blue signs naming far more. L.A. is a mash-up of uncountable, diverse neighborhoods spread over 465 square miles; hard and soft, painted in colors from concrete gray and security bar black to putting lawn green and jacaranda snowfall purple; beautiful, mysterious, dangerous, welcoming neighborhoods, soundtracked by the music of more languages than you or I or even the Los Angeles Times can count.

Bill Moss is the kind of cop who doesn't walk away from a job well done. Which is why, two years after he and a group of Kodiak Street residents drove a gang away, Moss is on a personal crusade to keep the street safe--even though he's been moved to a police job elsewhere in Anaheim. After work one evening a week, he returns to Kodiak, joining about 20 men, women and children to walk through the area, flashlights on and eyes peeled for signs of trouble.

It could be the rhinestone stud in her cheek, her thin resume, or her unwillingness to interview before noon, lest job-seeking disrupt her gym routine or interrupt her beauty sleep. Or it could be that this is the weakest job market for teenagers looking for summer work in more than half a century. But two weeks of pounding the pavement -- or at least occasionally scrolling through "help wanted" ads on Craigslist -- have produced not a single employment offer for my 17-year-old daughter . . .

Here's another way that rich people are different - they experience far fewer traffic accidents in their neighborhoods, according to a new study . This isn't exactly a shocking conclusion. There are an estimated 40,000 road deaths in the U.S. each year, and many studies have found that these are more likely to involve low-income people in low-income areas. But there's nothing about being poor that should make a person inherently more vulnerable to being hurt in a car crash.

Wal-Mart Stores Inc. announced plans to open a grocery store in Panorama City, part of a big push by the nation's largest retailer into the highly competitive Southland grocery business. The 31,000-square-foot store will be located in the Vannord Center at 14530 Nordhoff St. in the vacant space once occupied by Valley Foods Warehouse, the company said Monday. "There is no doubt that Panorama City residents need more affordable grocery options," said Wal-Mart spokesman Steven Restivo.