I grew up on a street called Bernal Avenue. There was Mrs. Blosat, the German lady with her son, Ed and son-in-law Adolf on the end of the street, the Romeros across from us, Mrs. Gallo next door and the Stupins, a Russsian family and Babonya down the street. There was also the Sorias and a Molokan Church bordering our little enclave of neighbors who shared foods and helped each other out.

My mother was an extremely outgoing person and knew everyone. She gave monthly permanents to Mrs. Blosat who in turn, gave us a wonderful coffee cake on many Saturdays. My sister and I would also climb her fig tree and pick all the fruit for her. Our Dad and Adolf became drinking buddies, watching wrestling and Mr. Moto on T.V. together. Even after we moved a few blocks away to Eagle Street, Adolf would visit. He bought us these great huge, full half-slips that made our skirts stand out. Adolf was a Carpenter for Robinson’s. When he visited, my sister and I would create skits and play the piano for him. I still have the wooden table with inset glass that he and Ed made for our family. Their house had these mysterious passage ways that we were able to enter on a few occasions.

I learned how to eat Knishes, borscht, tortillas, tamales, homemade olives and French apple pie from all the neighbors who either watched us as children or invited us over. I spent a lot of time in the Stupin’s household. Their family had older kids who made doll clothes for me or showed us how to bake cakes. They made wedding cakes as a business. They were a loud, big and messy family but kind enough to rent a house to us until the 60 Freeway took it away and we moved to J-flats in the Silverlake area.

October, 2002

For more information regarding the Boyle Heights residency contact Nona Chiang.

Updated: 1/8/03