The last few weeks of my summer vacation, my mom and I were in Hollywood. It occured to us that if we were to follow Highland and Western Blvds., we would arrive at Los Feliz Blvd., which would take us to Rowena. On Rowena, we would make a turn onto Waverly Drive, and see the LaBianca House. As we were driving along Los Feliz Blvd., we got a prime sighting of the Hollywood Sign. I almost dropped the map we were using because I have a specific song that I have to listen to when I see the sign. My mom said that I have a problem, because I have an obsession. I defended myself, saying that in a way, she has an issue cuz she seems to be obsessed with work. We sat in silence for a while, until we got to the necessary turnpoint. When we turned onto Waverly Drive, we began to drive up the street to our destination. Driving up the block to 3311, we got the chills, remembering how 40 years earlier, Charles Manson had walked the same way with his followers. It was a hot August day, and as I watched the houses and numbers pass, I began to get even more excited. When we finally arrived at the house, I couldn't do anything but stare, mouth agape. With the exception of adding another driveway, the house was still the same as it was in 1969. While we were sitting there, observing a piece of history, I got the chills again, as if there were spirits around us. We knew that it wasn't the atmosphere because it was in August. After we looked for a few minutes, we made our way back down the street as quickly as we could to shake the feelings of supernaturals. I like driving by there, and when we do, I smile because of the rich history behind it. Even though we've been by there many times, I still get the chills every time just thinking about the brutality inflicted on innocent people.
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Over the summer, my mother and I went for a drive into Benedict Canyon in Beverly Hills. When we came to Cielo Drive, she suddenly made a sharp right. At the time, I didn't know what was at the top of the hill, and I looked at her, confused. She said, "Just wait. You'll see." I started to look out the window, and I saw massive amounts of land and trees. When we got to a certain part of Benedict Canyon, she shivered. I asked her what was wrong, and she made it into a guessing game. "What do you think happened here 40 years ago?" "I don't know." At the time, I was reading "Helter Skelter", but I didn't make the connection. Suddenly, the thought hit me, and a look of realization crossed my face. "This is the Sharon Tate house, isn't it?" "Well, it's the land that it used to be on. The original house was torn down because no one wanted to buy it. Just the idea of living in an infamous house scared people away." "Okay. I don't blame them. I mean, after the gruesome event here, who would want to live in the original house?" We continued to observe for a while, and we also imagined what it was like in 1969, the night of the murders. There is one line from Vincent Bugliosi's book, Helter Skelter, that resonates in my mind. "The night was so quiet, you could almost hear the ice clinking in people's drinks." It was a fun drive, and I hope to do it again with her.
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AuthorI live in Southern California, LA to be exact. I love to sightsee, and I also love to read, write, sing, dance, act, and blog. I made this website as an extra credit project for my high school computer class, and I couldn't bear to delete it after I finished the class. ArchivesCategories
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