Hollyridge Tales
Six years of weird in the Hollywood Hills.
In 1924 the hip neighborhood development in Los Angeles was “Hollywoodland.” They put a big sign on the hillside at the top of Beachwood Canyon. They built adobe-and-red-tile-roof homes widely spaced along the smooth twisting roads they cut into the hills. Creston Drive wound its way toward the sign on the west ridge of the canyon, and Hollyridge was to the east.
Over the years more homes were added in-between and everywhere, even on the precarious pitches of dirt that earlier generations found too sketchy. Over the years the “-land” came off of the famous sign and it fell into disrepair before getting revived. Tiny shoeboxes on long stilts teetered up and down the hillsides. The other canyons of Los Angeles seemed to have more caché — Laurel Canyon, Topanga Canyon… but Beachwood was real and unpretentious.
I was excited to buy 2749, my first home. If you stood on the balcony you could see the Hollywood sign to the right, and to the left, beyond the gauntlet of the canyon, you could see downtown and Century City and on especially clear days you could see the ocean. I think that happened twice.
Grant’s House and the Spanish Prison
I first noticed Hollyridge from Grant’s balcony on Creston. My friend Grant lived almost…
