7964 West 4th Street, Los Angeles, California

I had a mission yesterday, and it was to see the house in which my father lived when the 1930 census taker dropped by. The census taker noted that my father, who was 8 months old at the time, lived with his father and mother in a house located at 7964 West 4th Street in Los Angeles.

I happen to have a photograph taken of my father when he was approximately that age. He is that cute baby in the car. The two boys in front of the car, wearing leather football helmets I believe, are his cousins who are twins.

So I'm thinking that the house in the background of the picture could possibly be the house my father lived in, or it could be the one across the street since the car seems to be parked on the opposite side of the street. West 4th Street, it turns out, is one block off of Fairfax, and two blocks from the old Farmers Market and new Grove shopping center. Since this is Suzy's neighborhood, she had already scouted it out for me. This time we went together with the picture.

Things do change in 78 years, but it didn't take long to recognize that house in the picture. It is directly across the street from 7964 West 4th Street. So the photographer (probably my grandfather) was standing in front of their home to shoot the 3 boys. The house now has a tall hedge in front, but the distinctive roof line made it easy to recognize.



Walking up to the opening in the hedge in order to see the front of the house confirmed it - this is where the picture was taken!


We knocked on the door of the house in the picture, and the man who answered was completely unimpressed with the fact that we were standing there holding a picture of his home taken in 1929 or 1930. We decided to cross the street and knock on the door of the house that my father actually lived in. This man was much nicer and invited us in to show us around. He said that he had done exactly the same thing when he returned to the village in which he grew up, in Switzerland.

As we left Suzy took this picture of me in front of the house.

My dad would have gotten a kick out of my tracking down the house, one that I don't think he even remembered living in. I believe that shortly after the census taker came by, they moved to Brentwood. I think it's amazing that both houses are still standing and I'm glad they were not torn down.