While I was buried in old memories and news archives writing my uncle's obituary, my son asked a vulnerable question. I gave him a kid-size answer. This is the whole one.
Erin, as I read this powerful and beautiful essay, I kept feeling like I was reading something from The Best American Essays. The way you link our sweet little childhood fears to the real evils and dangers, both human and chemical, that lurk all around us, was just astonishing. I kept thinking, “She’s right! Of course we were terrified as children; the world is terrifying.”
And as a mom, I was particularly terrified by that route you walked to school every day. I grew up in a working-class, rural community, and your essay made me feel very lucky.
This is a gorgeous, heartfelt, beautifully-structured piece of writing. Sorry, I feel like I sound like your English teacher saying that, but the flow between events in this is really affecting.
Well done, kid. (Not as patronizing as it may seem, since I’m old enuf to mean it!) You’ve got 1st class writing chops for sure. Am anxious to read more.
I’ve trod the same paths - lived in Carson for a year in the 80s, bach-ing it w/ a couple pals as I finished up a job w/Southbay mega-corp TRW (my satellite office was across the street from the Del Amo Mall) en route to a teaching career w/ LAUSD.
Was teaching English at a jr. high in South Central when the riots broke. The school was east of the Harbor Fwy and a couple blocks from Florence Ave, which was thoroughly torched in that area. When we finally came back to class I showed one of my classes an ABC news doc about the riots. When a clip of some looting came on half of them stood and yelled - they recognized a kid running out of a store w/ a TV. One of my kids had sat out the festivities b/c he had an ankle transmitter on and didn’t want to mess up.
It was a scary time in LaLaLand. As I imagine you know, the murder rate then was the highest it’s ever been - x3 over now.
My school was in a very poor area. Gangbanging - mostly Latino, like the venerable Florencia 13 krew - was definitely an issue. But around that time I learned my mother, who’d died when I was 11, had gone there, Edison JHS, when her family lived nearby in the Depression/WWII years. I didn’t trip on that too hard but it became meaningful. So did the monthly hiking club trips I took w/ teaching pals and groups of kids, anywhere from 6 to 30 at a time. Logged my required extracurricular activity that way for my ‘combat pay’ stipend. So, even amidst the desperation and poverty some light shone through and I managed to catch a few rays, something I remain grateful for.
I’ve spent time at other schools in the same general area since then (after a hiatus in the rural Midwest for 6 years) and now teach at decidedly blue collar Carson High. Not Beverly Hills but definitely a few fateful rungs up the ladder from Watts and the Southside. The difference is more intact families. Fights and typical randy teen hijinx but nowhere near the level of random mayhem I’ve seen further up the fwy. For all that my last post in the ‘hood was Jordan HS, aka the OG Watts High. It has been majority Hispanic since before ‘92. I was there from 2011-2018 and it was largely peaceful. The campus was a kind of neutral-ground sanctuary, particularly after a major rehab was finished. I taught some kids there I still think of very fondly. They had so much spirit and heart.
LaLaLand still has a big dark side. I watched the Netflix doc about Richard Ramirez - the ‘Nightstalker’ maniac of the mid-80s - recently and have started locking my windows at night. He ranged over the entire LA/OC basin and for all I know dropped seeds like an evil hydra. But he’s really just an old headline case. One of the scariest prospects of all was nailed by Nathaniel West in Day of the Locust before either one of us were around: the demise of Homer Simpson. Sounds like a joke but it isn’t.
Erin, this was incredible and breathtaking. What an incredibly powerful piece. I will be thinking of this for a long time to come. So much tragedy, so much hope.
Beautifully written, richly told, and full of unexpected and intriguing turns--a charming characteristic of your writing! I think I'll read it again in a day or two, and maybe more after that.
Good post. The kind of post that defies easy categorization beyond simply "this person is very good at kidnapping words from the english language and twisting them into sequences visually and grammatically appealing to an audience" kind of way. The kind of post that gives you courage to look inwards and touch your own personal demons, daring you to jump into the ring with them one more time. Maybe I will do that some day, but that is a hill of courage and introspection I haven't quite managed to crest yet. I appreciate your writing for managing to elicit that kind of feeling though.
Unrelated, but related to a comment you left on FDB's most recent post re: corresponding with prisoners. Another substack I follow is by Christie Smythe, the former Bloomberg reporter who became infamous for quitting her job and divorcing her husband to become Martin Shkreli's boyfriend* (of course this description leaves out a lot of the nuance and backstory behind her own tale). But I bring this up because since Martin went to jail, she became intimately and directly concerned with the issues of visiting and communicating with the incarcerated, such as this post on being a "prison bride": https://www.smirk-book.com/p/chapter-4-part-2-the-prison-brides#details
This is just a stretch, but might be worth reaching out to her if you are interested in that subject (her substack is paid but a lot of posts including that one should be unpaywalled.)
FWIW and full disclosure: I am not Martin Shkreli's biggest fan, but I think Christie is a good writer and a surprisingly humanizing one so I subscribed.
Our prison sentences give no recourse. Anders Breivik killed over 80 people and his sentence was 21 years. Do you know what Randy Garcia has done since put on death row?
Erin, as I read this powerful and beautiful essay, I kept feeling like I was reading something from The Best American Essays. The way you link our sweet little childhood fears to the real evils and dangers, both human and chemical, that lurk all around us, was just astonishing. I kept thinking, “She’s right! Of course we were terrified as children; the world is terrifying.”
And as a mom, I was particularly terrified by that route you walked to school every day. I grew up in a working-class, rural community, and your essay made me feel very lucky.
This is a gorgeous, heartfelt, beautifully-structured piece of writing. Sorry, I feel like I sound like your English teacher saying that, but the flow between events in this is really affecting.
Wow. This is an incredible piece of writing Erin.
Well done, kid. (Not as patronizing as it may seem, since I’m old enuf to mean it!) You’ve got 1st class writing chops for sure. Am anxious to read more.
I’ve trod the same paths - lived in Carson for a year in the 80s, bach-ing it w/ a couple pals as I finished up a job w/Southbay mega-corp TRW (my satellite office was across the street from the Del Amo Mall) en route to a teaching career w/ LAUSD.
Was teaching English at a jr. high in South Central when the riots broke. The school was east of the Harbor Fwy and a couple blocks from Florence Ave, which was thoroughly torched in that area. When we finally came back to class I showed one of my classes an ABC news doc about the riots. When a clip of some looting came on half of them stood and yelled - they recognized a kid running out of a store w/ a TV. One of my kids had sat out the festivities b/c he had an ankle transmitter on and didn’t want to mess up.
It was a scary time in LaLaLand. As I imagine you know, the murder rate then was the highest it’s ever been - x3 over now.
My school was in a very poor area. Gangbanging - mostly Latino, like the venerable Florencia 13 krew - was definitely an issue. But around that time I learned my mother, who’d died when I was 11, had gone there, Edison JHS, when her family lived nearby in the Depression/WWII years. I didn’t trip on that too hard but it became meaningful. So did the monthly hiking club trips I took w/ teaching pals and groups of kids, anywhere from 6 to 30 at a time. Logged my required extracurricular activity that way for my ‘combat pay’ stipend. So, even amidst the desperation and poverty some light shone through and I managed to catch a few rays, something I remain grateful for.
I’ve spent time at other schools in the same general area since then (after a hiatus in the rural Midwest for 6 years) and now teach at decidedly blue collar Carson High. Not Beverly Hills but definitely a few fateful rungs up the ladder from Watts and the Southside. The difference is more intact families. Fights and typical randy teen hijinx but nowhere near the level of random mayhem I’ve seen further up the fwy. For all that my last post in the ‘hood was Jordan HS, aka the OG Watts High. It has been majority Hispanic since before ‘92. I was there from 2011-2018 and it was largely peaceful. The campus was a kind of neutral-ground sanctuary, particularly after a major rehab was finished. I taught some kids there I still think of very fondly. They had so much spirit and heart.
LaLaLand still has a big dark side. I watched the Netflix doc about Richard Ramirez - the ‘Nightstalker’ maniac of the mid-80s - recently and have started locking my windows at night. He ranged over the entire LA/OC basin and for all I know dropped seeds like an evil hydra. But he’s really just an old headline case. One of the scariest prospects of all was nailed by Nathaniel West in Day of the Locust before either one of us were around: the demise of Homer Simpson. Sounds like a joke but it isn’t.
"breeze-block wall"-so evocative of these small but proud homes.
I read it again, Erin. Keep going!
Erin, this was incredible and breathtaking. What an incredibly powerful piece. I will be thinking of this for a long time to come. So much tragedy, so much hope.
Just caught up on this today, amazing. So much shown to us with balance and attention and care. Erin, you need to write a whole book!
Beautifully written, richly told, and full of unexpected and intriguing turns--a charming characteristic of your writing! I think I'll read it again in a day or two, and maybe more after that.
Good post. The kind of post that defies easy categorization beyond simply "this person is very good at kidnapping words from the english language and twisting them into sequences visually and grammatically appealing to an audience" kind of way. The kind of post that gives you courage to look inwards and touch your own personal demons, daring you to jump into the ring with them one more time. Maybe I will do that some day, but that is a hill of courage and introspection I haven't quite managed to crest yet. I appreciate your writing for managing to elicit that kind of feeling though.
Unrelated, but related to a comment you left on FDB's most recent post re: corresponding with prisoners. Another substack I follow is by Christie Smythe, the former Bloomberg reporter who became infamous for quitting her job and divorcing her husband to become Martin Shkreli's boyfriend* (of course this description leaves out a lot of the nuance and backstory behind her own tale). But I bring this up because since Martin went to jail, she became intimately and directly concerned with the issues of visiting and communicating with the incarcerated, such as this post on being a "prison bride": https://www.smirk-book.com/p/chapter-4-part-2-the-prison-brides#details
This is just a stretch, but might be worth reaching out to her if you are interested in that subject (her substack is paid but a lot of posts including that one should be unpaywalled.)
FWIW and full disclosure: I am not Martin Shkreli's biggest fan, but I think Christie is a good writer and a surprisingly humanizing one so I subscribed.
Erin,
Such a gift to read this. Thank you.
Our prison sentences give no recourse. Anders Breivik killed over 80 people and his sentence was 21 years. Do you know what Randy Garcia has done since put on death row?
A friend curated the Love Canal archive. The photo of two children playing reminds me of you in Carousel.
https://research.lib.buffalo.edu/love-canal/timeline-and-photos