By Jaime Ruiz, Staff Writer
On June 7, the City of Los Angeles commemorated the memory of Mexican Hollywood at the Cruise Ship Terminal, the historic site of the beloved neighborhood that thrived from the 1920s to the 1950s. The event honored the rich cultural legacy of the Mexican-American community in the Los Angeles Harbor Area. The following is Part II of Random Lengths News‘ reprint of an updated version of reporter Jaime Ruiz’s 2005 story. It is a part of the larger immigrant story of Los Angeles that now seems relevant once again. The editors
Tough choices faced Mexican communities during the Depression. Like today, their labor proved crucial to the lifeblood of key industries in the U.S. economy, but during economic downturns, they become scapegoats for structural deficiencies inherent in capitalism.
In the late 1920s and ’30s, most Mexicans like the Gonzales family, who had lived and contributed for decades, stayed in El Norte and continued their struggle to survive. Others had no choice, as the U.S. and Mexican governments collaborated to force nearly a half-million residents and U.S. citizens of Mexican descent back to Mexico in a process known as “Repatriation.”
Families such as the Salazars tried their luck in Northern California picking fields. But Don Eduardo Sanchez decided to return to his birthplace with his family. After losing everything, including all his bank savings, coupled with being labeled an “undesirable” for spending time in jail on a cockfighting charge, Frank Sanchez recalls his father saying, “No, no me voy para mi Mexico.”
The Sanchez family spent the next two years in Nogales, Mexico where “we almost died of hunger.”
Louie Gonzales learned early about survival and working for the family. For extra cash, he began shining shoes and selling newspapers by the age of 10. Like other boys his age, Gonzales woke up at 4 a.m. when Navy men docked in the harbor and needed their shoes shined for inspection.
“So you’d go over there with your shinebox and shine shoes for five cents,” Gonzales explained. “But you had to go early in the morning because they had to be aboard ship by seven. A lot of them didn’t want to shine their own shoes. So we shined them.”
During the epic 1934 coastwide longshore strike, Gonzales, still carrying his shoe shine box, watched and waited for scabs. He recalls that “longshoremen would get the scabs, beat them up, and throw their money in the air.” Gonzales and the other kids would then pick up the money.
“We used to go into like Todd Shipyard ― they had a press and punched a hole that would have a piece of steel an inch thick round, and we used to make slingshots and throw them at the scabs,” Gonzales recalled.
Longshoremen appreciated the show of solidarity. “The longshoremen had a big tent on 11th Street and there was a big cafeteria. So they’d give us a pass for a free lunch for throwing the steel at the scabs.”
When he was 16, Gonzales told the principal he was 17 to work in the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) camps, earning money for himself and the family as the government sent back a portion.
The only jobs available to Mexican Americans were in lumber, fish canning and parts of the waterfront. Mexicans were often assigned some of the dirtiest and most dangerous workarounds. However, the predominately Mexican scaler’s union followed the path of the longshoremen, first as a non-unionized shape-up hiring to a union with a dispatcher. Before the union, “They used to go to the corner of Ancon and O’Farrell in a truck and pick you, you and you. Get in the truck,” Gonzales recounted.
A scaler’s work, as Gonzales explained, was dirty.
“You come out dirtier than hell. Anything dirty, the scalers used to do it. You come out full of oil, or you come out full of soot or full of paint or any god darn thing that was a filthy job, that was it. But it paid good,” Gonzales said. “That’s the only type of work Mexican people could get.”
With the United States’ entry into World War II, the port transitioned into a wartime economy as Uncle Sam called on draftees and volunteers to serve.
Like other Mexican Americans, Mexican Hollywood boys served in the military. Gonzales volunteered after his cousin Fabian Gonzales was drafted and soon after killed in action. Mr. Sanchez ended up in the Battle of the Bulge, was captured, and nearly died as a German prisoner of war. Joe Salazar was a part of the second wave of the Normandy Invasion.
On the eve of WWII, Mexican Hollywood had structurally and culturally stabilized into a permanent barrio. The relative permanency allowed children to receive an education, a journey that took them from Barton Hill Elementary, Dana Junior High and San Pedro High.
The New Deal and the Works Project Administration (WPA) built a sewage system and the streets in Mexican Hollywood were paved with asphalt.
Across from Barton Hill, Holy Trinity (Now St. Peter’s) Church served the community’s religious needs. Although primarily Catholic, Mexican Hollywood did have at least one Baptist family that held “hallelujahs” in the garage.
Toberman Settlement House, which began operating out of San Pedro in the 1930s ― maintained a clubhouse in Mexican Hollywood. Toberman offered activities for parents and children alike and was well-appreciated by the Mexican community for its work.
Lillie Nuño remembers the indispensable role that Toberman played in her childhood.
“I remember we had a big playground,” recalled Lillie. A playground was built in a big empty lot next to the clubhouse, complete with monkey bars, swings, a baseball diamond and a basketball court. Lillie still remembers the director, Mrs. Clark.
“She was always reading to us, and teaching us how to sew, and how to do little girl things,” Nuño said.
Each Christmas, Toberman House gave gifts to the community’s children ― either a truck for a boy or a doll for a girl.
One of the lead authors of Mexican American Baseball, journalist Ron Gonzalez noted that Mexican baseball teams flourished throughout San Pedro, from the little neighborhood of La Rambla hugging nearby hillsides to Mexican Hollywood.
According to “Mexican American Baseball in the South Bay”“ Young Mexican men – and women – “organized teams that played at Myers Field at the southeast corner of Ancon and O’Farrell streets in Mexican Hollywood.”
The neighborhood’s original team name was the Hollywood Mexicans, which took to the field in 1931. Team members soon voted to rechristen themselves as the San Pedro Internationals, competing under that name until 1934. Among its managers was longtime baseball aficionado Mike Lomeli Sr., who lived on Ancon Street. Other Mexican teams used the field too, including the San Pedro International Girls, the Hermosa Athletic Club, the Sonora Club and the San Pedro Sharks.
Mexican teams from throughout the South Bay and Los Angeles County played there, as did teams representing U.S. Navy ships. Mexican Hollywood teams played against many squads fielded along other racial and ethnic lines, including Italians, Croatians, Filipinos, Chinese and African Americans.