Driving east on Pico Boulevard at Beverwil Drive in 1976


When I stumbled on this photo at the Duke University site, and with the help of my number one history adventurer (who prefers to remain anonymous), identified the location as Pico Boulevard at Beverwil Drive, I was reminded at how much fun I used to have trying to figure out exactly where I was when I drove around Los Angeles. It's really just trivia, but I always enjoyed it, and I still do.

That's the Mr. C. Beverly Hills Hotel there on the left, which is about as Beverly Hills as you can get. You know, swimmin' pools, movie stars. I took a look at their web page and I'm inclined to think that unless I had so much money that I could light my cigar with hundred dollar bills, and had a wife covered with diamonds and mink I'd feel out of place. Yep, very Beverly Hills. Even the address, which is on Beverwil, is perfect. Except that it's not quite in Beverly Hills, it's just outside of the city limits of Beverly Hills, in Los Angeles. And while that's just trivia, and it doesn't change a thing, it's something that fascinates me about Los Angeles, and always has.


Yes, there are city limits to Beverly Hills. It's a city that's independent of Los Angeles, and it has its own mayor, police force, etc. So, as I drive along there in my Mustang, if you're a cop following me, you're LAPD (Los Angeles). The Beverly Hills cops would have turned around before they got as far south as Pico. And if I were put in jail, it would be a Los Angeles one, not a Beverly Hills one. My understanding is that the Beverly Hills accommodations were nicer, although I'd really rather not ever know.

For me, figuring out this kind of stuff started when I learned my new address on Argyle when I moved to Hollywood. Hollywood is just a part of Los Angeles, so I could write my address as Los Angeles, or Hollywood, and I'd get my mail. There's no Hollywood police department, no Hollywood mayor. And if I were to get thrown in the local hoosegow, the Los Angeles police would do it.

I found this to be particularly fascinating, as multiple cities were all smooshed together. I've read old books, and there was a time when the city of Santa Monica (yes, it's its own city) was a goodly distance from Los Angeles, or Beverly Hills. Philip Marlowe always drove for quite a while past orange groves to get to another city in the '40s. But not long after that it all grew together, definitely by the time this photo was taken, in 1976.


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