Tributes Tell Why Valley Is Home

Couched as it was with reminders of the earthquake, the wildfires and the sagging economy, our question to readers was simple: Why do you stay in the San Fernando Valley?

In dozens of poems, essays and even a limerick, written on manual typewriters, computers or scrawled on note cards, you responded, defiantly defending your neighborhood, your strip mall, your Valley.

For some, it is the memories that keep you here: of orange groves, farmlands or the deer that once roamed the Valley floor. For others, it is as simple as the convenience of nearby malls or the endlessly sunny days. Others point to something less tangible, a collective spirit that rises in the face of each new disaster.

But we asked for your words, so we’ll let you explain. Here are some of our favorite remarks, illustrated with photographs by Brian Vander Brug about why there’s no place quite like the Valley to call home.

Home Is Like Boot Camp for Ex-Marine

After spending 10 years as one of “Uncle Sam’s Misguided Children,” I was concerned about being able to make the transition into the alien culture known as “The Civilian World.” Fortunately, I’ve chosen to settle in the San Fernando Valley, where it’s almost as if I’d never left the military at all.

Should I miss the adrenaline rush of walking point during a patrol in dangerous territory, I need only stroll through the alleyways near Sepulveda and Nordhoff.

The sounds, too, are comforting to an ex-military man. The roar of jets from Burbank Airport, the constant clatter of low-flying LAPD helicopters, and the occasional crack of small-arms fire echoing through the night is enough to warm the heart of any grunt.

In training, we were often awakened by raging lunatics at zero-dark-thirty in the morning with shouts, screams and loud crashing noises. In the Marines, we called them drill instructors. Here in the Valley, we call them “neighbors.”

For the pilots who’ve become accustomed to a turbulent, high-speed, death-defying existence, there’s the Valley’s system of quake-damaged freeways, guaranteed to compress your spine. The antics of the drivers around you will make dogfighting a Kamikaze look tame, and given the condition of many of the overpasses on the 405 freeway, if you go fast enough, you may actually be able to fly your car!

So, to all of you jarheads, squids, flyboys and dogfaces who are faced with separation from the military, I say, “Come one, come all, to the Happy Valley!” If you long for the adventurous, unpredictable and occasionally dangerous life that you had in the military, then you’ll love it here!

STEVEN STOLARZ

Panorama City