The ‘Battle’ of West Adams : White Restorationists Buying Homes in Largely Black L.A. Neighborhood and Hostility to Them Has Risen

From their front porches, residents of the West Adams neighborhood have watched with mixed emotions as their elderly neighbors disappear, and the young newcomers who replace them peel away the years on their aging homes, transporting the community back to yesteryear.

For better or worse, West Adams, just northwest of USC, has become the new darling of historic preservationists. Since 1981, when middle-class whites began trickling into the area, buying time-worn homes and restoring them to their former glory, scores of newcomers have bought bargain-priced, mansion-sized fixer-uppers in the predominantly black neighborhood.

As their presence has increased, so has the hostility between the newcomers and the longtime residents, many of whom feel the restorationists see the neighborhood only as a collection of historic houses, ignoring the longtime residents inside them. It is a conflict that is cropping up more and more in old, big-city neighborhoods as middle-class, mostly white “urban pioneers” move into minority areas to “reclaim” historic houses gone to pot.

“At first, we thought they were coming in to be neighborly,” said Marion Downs Smith, a Juilliard-trained classical musician who has lived in her home on 20th Street for 30 years. “Now, we see they’re out to exploit and take advantage of us. They don’t mean us any good. We’re not going to sit idly by and let them take over like we’re dummies.”

Now, what could have been a cooperative effort to upgrade neglected homes in this grand old neighborhood has become mired, instead, in acrimony and resentment, fueled by fear and misunderstandings on both sides. The hostility reached its climax a month ago, when some residents waged a successful protest against the preservationists’ annual Historic Homes Tour and Street Faire, forcing the group to scale down its most important event of the year.

“It’s really too bad about the hostility,” said Karen Blackwell, one of only three blacks in the 100-member preservationists’ group, the West Adams Heritage Assn. “There’s a lot of suspicion on the part of old-timers.”

Many residents believe their elderly neighbors are being pressured to sell their homes at below-market prices, she said. Others simply mistrust leaders of the association, who have alienated their neighbors by disparaging the neighborhood in association meetings and talking about “rescuing” the area.

“There are a lot of people in the (association) who acknowledge the fact that this is a community and they want to participate in that community,” said Blackwell, who purchased a restored home in the neighborhood a year ago. “But there are a lot of others who don’t--who see themselves as coming in to rescue the community, and this community is not one that sees itself in need of being rescued.”

In many ways, the battle is a classic one that occurs wherever neighborhoods are shaken by change, whether by “gentrification” that replaces the poor with more affluent residents, or by the incursion of a new ethnic or immigrant group. Similar strains have emerged in other Los Angeles neighborhoods, such as Silver Lake, with its growing gay population; Angelino Heights, where the preservationists have been involved for several years; and between the black and Korean residents surrounding the city’s expanding Koreatown district.

“This is endemic to all situations where you have changing population groups, no matter who they are,” said Ruth Ann Lehr of the Los Angeles Conservancy, a volunteer group that works to preserve the region’s architecture and cultural heritage. “There’s kind of a feeling of territoriality toward the neighborhood among the people who have already been there.”

In the West Adams community, that feeling of territoriality is especially strong. Unlike many neighborhoods rescued from blight by the infusion of money and enthusiasm, West Adams already boasted a stable, middle-class population and attractive, well-kept homes.

It is a proud neighborhood, with a proud history.

During the early 1900s, West Adams was the place for the rich and famous of Los Angeles to build their Victorian, California Craftsman and Colonial Revival mansions. Once the home of such luminaries as Busby Berkeley and Theda Bara, the neighborhood was all-white for almost half a century because of restrictive deed covenants that prohibited anyone “not entirely of the Caucasian or white race (from living there) except as servants.”

The color barrier was broken in 1947, when accountant James Shifflett moved his family to an 11-room house on 20th Street.

“We were only trying to find a nice house in a nice neighborhood for our little girl to go to school,” said Carolyn Shifflett, who still lives with her husband in the home they bought almost 40 years ago. Before they were even settled in their home, “a real estate man came over and told us we weren’t wanted in this neighborhood. . . . It was a very high-class area. I don’t think they were ready for my husband and me.”

The Shiffletts, and the white person who had sold them the home, were sued by their neighbors for violating the deed restriction against nonwhites in a case that went to the U.S. Supreme Court, which struck down restrictive covenants.

Doctors, Lawyers, Ministers

Then, in the 1950s, middle- and upper-class blacks began joining the Shiffletts in West Adams, and the whites made a rapid exodus. The new West Adams residents were doctors, lawyers, ministers.

“It wasn’t as if riff-raff was moving in,” Carolyn Shifflett said.

Some of those families remain, and they take umbrage at the newcomers’ zeal to change a community that has been their own since before many of their new neighbors were born.

“We want to control our neighborhood; we want a say-so in what goes on,” said Dolores Hammond, a retired county employee who has lived on 20th Street for more than 20 years. “We do not appreciate other groups coming in and saying ‘We are going to improve your neighborhood.’ ”

The friction has slowly developed over the years. At first, many old-time residents welcomed the newcomers, who cleaned, painted and planted flowers in the yards of their homes. They invited their new neighbors to their block club meetings, and helped form the association. The community united to fight such issues as the proliferation of liquor stores and a plan to locate a halfway house for Cuban refugees on 20th Street. But as the newcomers became bolder and more active in the community, the good feelings evaporated.

‘To Push Us Out’

“They started going around talking about they were the community,” said Vivian Lewis, who moved to her home on 20th Street in 1962. “We began to see what they really wanted was to push us out so they can take over this neighborhood.”

The simmering feud erupted when some residents decided to protest the association’s plan to close off 20th Street for its annual street fair and historic homes tour, which draws upwards of 1,000 visitors to the neighborhood. After a stormy public hearing, the city Public Works Board heeded a petition signed by more than 100 residents and denied the street closure permit. The association went forward with its tour, but with a scaled-down street fair.

“We don’t want this kind of animosity,” said Smith, a leader in the drive against the street closure. “We want a happy relationship. But we have to let them know we know what is going on.”

The preservationists are still a tiny minority in West Adams--one realtor estimated that only about 150 of more than 7,000 area homes have been sold to buyers interested in restoring the homes--and many residents are unaware of the restorationists and the controversy surrounding them.

Others Welcome Them

Others welcome the newcomers, hoping their home improvements will increase property values and encourage new commercial development in the area. Now, the area’s main streets are lined with a hodge-podge of small stores, wholesale supply houses and neighborhood restaurants, mixed with manufacturing plants and auto body shops.

Most of the homes are two-story, four-bedroom bungalows, built in the early 1900s. Though many are in need of cosmetic or structural rehabilitation, the spacious homes are elegant, with antique features such as high-beamed ceilings, hand-carved woodwork, ornate fireplaces and window seats. The average sales price is $122,500, well below what a comparable home would sell for in other county areas, said Bob Bortfeld, whose City Living Realty makes most of its home sales to restorationists in West Adams. Homes have appreciated well, Bortfeld said, up from an average sales price of $81,500 in 1981, and he expects that to continue. The neighborhood is attractive because of the excellent housing bargains, as well as its convenient location close to downtown.

And there are signs a commercial resurgence may also be in the making, Bortfeld said. Capitalizing on the new residents’ interest in restoration, several small antique shops recently opened in the area, moving from Melrose Avenue, where rents are higher.

“The area has a lot of commercial space to offer, at very, very reasonable rates,” he said. “There’s a lot of potential here.”

Real Estate Man’s Vision

Bortfeld’s vision of West Adams’ future includes the antique shops, chic clothing stores and Melrose-type cafes--”like a San Francisco-type of place; real cosmopolitan, kind of artsy-craftsy” with an eclectic mix of “yuppies,” minorities and gays, who have also begun buying neighborhood homes.

It is a vision shared by many of the newcomers, but one that some old-timers feel tramples on their hope for the neighborhood’s future, as well as their memories of the past.

“This is our neighborhood,” Smith said. “We raised our children here, and we don’t want the day to come when they can’t afford to come back and live here. . . . It’s a wonderful place to live, and we like it just the way it is. . . . I’ve seen preservationist movements in other places, what they do to the neighborhoods. They raise the property values so much, blacks can’t afford to buy the homes.”

Charges of Racism

That most of the new home buyers are white has led to charges on both sides of racism.

“The white people couldn’t wait to move out” in the 1950s when blacks began moving in, said Hammond, a black who is active in her street’s block club. “Now they realize how valuable this area is, and they want it back.”

These older residents’ ire is fueled by rumors that some of their elderly neighbors are being pushed from their homes by aggressive real estate agents who offer them more than they paid, but far less than their homes are worth, then sell them to whites.

“It’s a kind of reverse block-busting,” Hammond said. “You never see a ‘For Sale’ sign go up; then suddenly there are new (white) owners. The blacks are being moved out and they’re only selling to whites.”

Bortfeld, who is white and lives in a restored home a block away from Hammond, denies the racism charge. Only about 10% of the 100 homes that his firm has sold have gone to blacks, but the number of black buyers seems to be on the increase, he said.

‘Tried Really Hard’

“I have tried really hard to get middle-class blacks to buy here because I knew this (issue) was going to loom its head,” Bortfeld said. “I have had some success, but not as much as I’d like.”

Some white association members counter the racism charge with complaints that they have encountered hostility from their black neighbors.

“The feelings first surfaced about a year ago when somebody stood up at one of our meetings screaming about ‘All these white people moving into the neighborhood,’ but we’re not racists, so we didn’t take it seriously,” Laura Meyers, an association board member, said. “Personally, I think (the blacks’ resentment) is basically racism, and it bothers me a lot. . . . The situation has made me very hostile.”

But Bortfeld said most of the whites who have moved into the area have received pleasant receptions. He was one of the first whites in his neighborhood when he purchased his three-story home on 20th Street for $75,000 in 1981, and he found his neighbors friendly and helpful.

‘Resistance ... Is Natural’

“I understand what they’re feeling,” Bortfeld said. “Resistance to change is natural. . . . They have to realize, though, this neighborhood can’t stay the way it is. The people are passing away, and new people are going to take their place. Some of those new people are going to be white.”

Most of the whites who have moved to the area appreciate its ethnic mix, they say. “Most of us are attracted, at least partially, by the fact that it is not all white,” Meyers said.

A single woman, Meyers bought her West Adams home three weeks after she discovered the area while writing a magazine article on restoring old homes. It is the first house the former Venice resident has owned.

“For most of us (the newcomers), it’s our first home,” she said. Most of the newcomers are young families, or single women and men, including several gay couples, who are moving from places like the San Fernando Valley, Orange County and the Westside.

Census figures from 1980 put the area’s black population at about 70%, the Latino population at 15% and the Asian-Pacific Islander population at 9%. But the neighborhood’s demographics have been changing because of the aging black population and an influx of Latino and Korean families. The neighborhood elementary school is about 37% black, 56% Latino, 6.5% Asian-Pacific Islander and 1% Anglo.

Eyesores Are Admitted

Even the neighborhood’s most fervent defenders do not deny that there are eyesores among the stately old homes that line their blocks, nor that the preservationists have contributed to the neighborhood’s beautification.

“We have to give the devil his due,” Smith said. “On my block, they’ve come in and planted flowers and put up awnings. Their homes really are lovely.”

But even that has become a sore spot among some longtime residents. Because many of them are retired and living on fixed incomes, home repair money is in short supply. Those who have unsuccessfully tried to get loans to refurbish their homes resent the newcomers, who finance their homes with 90% to 95% mortgages and make repairs with low-interest loans.

“There are a lot of problems (between the old and new residents), but the major one is the problem of perception,” said Blackwell, who has been pressured by many of her black neighbors to resign from the association board. “West Adams (Heritage Assn.) is going to have to go in and clean up a lot of misconceptions. . . . There are problems that can’t be fixed the way you strip a door.”

Working Harder

The group recently met to discuss its acrimonious relationship with the neighborhood, and came away committed to working harder to gain the acceptance of longtime residents.

“We are going to try to deal with it, but I think it would be naive for us to think we’re going to solve the problem,” Meyers said. “It’s difficult for me to understand what they don’t like.”

Others are more optimistic.

“I think this will blow over,” said Roberta Best, an association board member who moved with her husband and teen-age son to West Adams from Beverly Hills a year ago. “There are too many good people on both sides of the issue who could work together. We’re really all after the same thing--making this the best possible place to live.”