A REVIEW OF "MYRIAD UNNAMED STREAMS"
During all the recent
record rains, some of the analysts, while wringing their hands, tell us that
most of the rain that’s falling just flows to the ocean. And though we
generally think of Los Angeles as a land that gets all its water afar, such
wasn’t always the case.
Once, the entire Northeast
L.A. – though described as “coastal desert plain,” was a land where streams and
rivers flowed, and where water could be readily obtained. The story of why so
much water now goes to the ocean is not a simple story, but to get a full
understanding, it’s helpful to turn back the clock 150 years or so, and look at
the water stories of the Northeast.
“Myriad Unnamed
Streams” is a series of historical vignettes by local environmentalist Jane Tsong
to show where the water once flowed throughout the Northeast. You can read them
Tsong explores a waterway
Tsong explains
what happened to the free-flowing water, as the decades rolled
by. The totality of her research makes us look again at our familiar
landscape, and realize that lots of water once flowed through the region.
Tsong is an artist who
took an interest in the waters of Los Angeles after her family first moved to
West Los Angeles in 1997. They hear rumors of a freshwater spring by the high
school sports field next door. When she visited the site, she was mystified by
how the water flowed naturally through a well-groomed miniature landscape,”
before unceremoniously disappearing into a drainage grating.” She
later learned that this was the historically significant Kuruvungna Springs,
since been revived by the Tongva people.
She moved to Highland
Park in 2003, and discovered many of the stories of local springs, and past
streams, that were found all over the Northeast. Tsong was surprised. After
all, weren’t we told that this is a desert, and that all our water came from
afar?
Finding that most
of these springs and seeps and streams were never named, and largely unknown
today (if they still exist), she began to research these. Along with standard research, she interviewed
many people from 2006 through 20098, receiving answers and guidance from Eric Warren and Jessica
Hall. Eventually, she catalogued her
information on a web site media book, called Water, CA, and presented it as a tour that one could actually take by bicycle. At
the very least, pull out a large map now, click on to her website, and
re-discover some of the hidden water history of the Northeast.
Her tour begins
with the intersection of Figueroa Street and the westbound onramp for the 134,
once the site of Eagle Rock Creek, now mostly cement. In the 1880s, visitors could
have walked in the stream, and found wild roses, blackberries, and tiger
lilies, like so many of the mountain streams. With the purchase of much of
Eagle Rock Canyon by Henry Huntington, the development swallowed this up so
that most residents are barely aware that a stream still flows along the
entrance to the Scholl Canyon dump, and is mostly underground near the iconic
“eagle rock.”
A view of Eagle Rock Creek, north of the Eagle Rock. Vignette 1.
An altered remnant of
the creek is still visible behind the businesses located northeast of Colorado
and Figueroa, and then the stream is hidden in cement until it flows into the
Arroyo Seco.
Behind the sycamores is a remnant of the Eagle Rock Creek. Photo by Tsong.
Back in the 1880s, the
Eagle Rock Creek continued to flow roughly in the proximity of Lanark Street
and turned west toward Yosemite Drive. This temporary stream flowed eventually
along Yosemite, causing flooding until the 1930s when the large underground
drainage pipe was installed.
Springs and creeks flowed
from the Verdugo Mountains to the north, irrigating many early orchards and
providing water for local residents. These were gradually sealed over, cemented
shut, or routed into underground pipes.
What's left north of Dahlia in the Verdugo Hills. Vignette 5.
If you study a map of
the Eagle Rock/ Highland Park area of the 1880s, you’d see numerous waterways
that flowed from the hills to the north, meandering south. Some flowed along
Figueroa, east along La Loma, and into the Arroyo Seco. Springs and lakes were
common. Springvale (off Figueroa) was the source of a significant tributary to
the Arroyo Seco, called the North Branch.
Springdale Drive at Figueroa, where a spring once flowed from the hills in the west.
Other streams formed in
the foothills above Colorado. Their water kept the water table in Eagle Rock
high, feeding springs at Eagle Rock Springs and Sparkletts. At Eagle Rock
Springs Mobile Home Community off Argus, cattails and willows once abounded. In
1912, this site was described as “approximately one acre of tree-covered
grounds with a small artesian lake supplied by several flowing artesian wells.”
Water from these springs flowed all the way to Eagle Rock Blvd., and then to
York, where watercress and willows lined the way.
Eagle Rock Springs Mobile Home Community where springs once flowed. Vignette 6
Further south, near York
and Eagle Rock Blvd., artesian waters were abundant enough to support multiple
water companies (including Sparkletts) to sell the bottled water. The York and
Eagle Rock Blvd area was known in the past as “Cienega del Garvanza,” was
described by Ludwig Luis Salvator (in 1876) as “a small green swamp with clumps
of bunch-grass and at the bottom, Sacate de Matico, which never dries out.” The
area was drilled by 1880 and water flowed from the wells without the need for
wind or steam.
Sparkletts Water. Vignette 11.
The northeast had
numerous springs, wells, rivers, streams, and lakes, including a lake-like
depression near Sycamore Grove park, before the water flowed into the Arroyo
Seco.
In researching the water
of the Northeast, Tsong researched many of the historical accounts of our area,
including talking to many of the old-timers who shared their stories.
At the source of San Rafael Creek. Photo by Tsong.
As Tsong points out,
most of the wells were sealed – some ordered to be sealed by the City of Los
Angeles when they annexed Eagle Rock. Flowing water was diverted underground,
into pipes and directed to the Arroyo Seco or the L.A. River, because they were
considered safety hazards when it rained, or simply nuisance water.
Today, at least 75% of
the area’s potable water comes from one of three aqueducts – two bringing water
from Northern California and one bringing water from the Colorado River. And an
increased population using ever-more water has resulted in lowering water tables.
Additionally, in these modern times, with small yards and no way to process one’s
own water, water from baths and dishes and household use no longer goes into the
land, to soak into the water table, but rather simply flows into the sewers and
out to the oceans.
There are many little
solutions to our growing need for water, and they can be implemented by
individuals and cities. But it’s important to see how the growth of the
population of Northeast L.A., and the many choices that were made all along the
way, are responsible for our water landscape being largely invisible today, and
for so much of the water which unceremoniously flows out to the ocean.
I strongly encourage you
to check out Tsong’s web site, and then actually travel from site to site to
experience the not-that-distant past water history of our Northeast area.
1 comment:
Informative article! I live in Eagle Rock (Chickasaw / Glen Iris). There is a tree on Chickasaw that may be a very old willow from when the land was still marshy. I have some photos, can you help identify the tree's species? I think it looks like the same kind of tree at the Gabrielino Springs. Susancastor@laaudubon.org or suzeqeu@gmail.com
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