Confidential File

Chavez Has Become a State of Mind

Be quiet, all of you.

Stop that frantic whispering. Calm down.

I'm not going to begin until I have your complete, undivided attention.

There, that's better.

The subject of my travelogue lecture today is "With Rod and Gun Through Chavez Ravine."

And don't move for the exits.

Just because I've never been there doesn't mean that I'm not an authority.

Let's face it. We're all authorities.

And
besides, every absolute, positive fact with which I'm going to
enlighten you is based on indisputable, carefully researched and
documented hearsay.

The truth of the matter is, there're some folks in that gully who some other folks wish were someplace else.

Those are just my surface observations.

I go deeper.

But before I do, I want to make one point clear:

I'm for those families who refuse to be budged.

I
take this stand partly because I believe that the people are honestly
and genuinely fighting against what they believe is injustice.

And partly because I don't like to be spattered with tomatoes by emotional strangers.

However, before I sign any petition, I'd like to review a few of the facts:

The Arechiga
family, on whom nearly all of the Chavez Ravine publicity has centered,
had its property legally condemned half a dozen years ago. The family
was told to leave then. Since 1953, a check for $10,050 (the
condemnation price of the property) has been waiting for them.

But the Arechigas didn't leave — and as a result, they've been living rent-free and tax-free on the property ever since.

The amount saved by them adds up to quite a bit.

But there's another matter to be considered.

The property was condemned to make way for a public housing project, which never materialized.

Therefore,
legally and morally, should the city be obliged to return all
properties seized to their original owners? Or to those owners who
still want to buy their properties back?

Legally, apparently not.

But morally, I wonder.

Obviously,
the city felt it had no moral obligation. And the city's stand was
endorsed by its citizenry, which voted in favor of the Dodger contract
on a very tense day last June.

The question as to who's right and who's wrong, I'm afraid, is a moot one.

I'm just sorry that some people in Chavez Ravine got the boot so ungracefully.

I'm
even sorrier for them if the "principles" which made them martyrs
weren't 100% their own. If some other parties gave them a bum steer or
two.

O Weep Ye for O'Malley

I'm sorry for the
sheriff's deputies who were given the very dirty job of bodily removing
the reluctant families. It's too bad that the officials who botched up
matters in the first place weren't ordered to put on their old clothes
and do the evicting themselves.

And while I'm sympathizing, I suppose I ought to say a kind word about poor Walter O'Malley.

When
he was at the bartering table with our city fathers, he was assured
that the city and the people standing between him and Chavez Ravine
would iron out their differences peacefully and amiably.

Now, through no fault of his own, he's the most despised landlord since Squire Cribbs tried to kick out poor old Missus Wilson.*

* A reference to "The Drunkard" — a melodrama that was performed for decades in Los Angeles.