Panorama City Flourishes Despite Its Rough Reputation

Looking at a map of Panorama City, it’s easy to see where the northeast San Fernando Valley neighborhood got its rather dark nickname, “The Witch’s Hat.”

But most of the area’s residents, police officers and businesspeople seem to feel it’s the good witch, not the wicked one, that rules this jagged triangle of mostly Latino neighborhoods.

Despite one of the highest crime rates in the Valley, inhabitants see Panorama City as a vibrant community, full of entrepreneurs, flourishing retail businesses, determined leaders and colorful street life.

“Panorama City’s rep has been gangbang central, but there is such a strong sense of community over there,” said Jeri Corti, the community service representative for the local Home Depot. “It’s a very close and warm place.”

Nowhere is that more evident than at a park that was once a gang hangout.

As dusk descends, the Sepulveda Recreation Center seems to be all that a small urban park should be. Families lounge peacefully on the grass as a soccer game rages nearby. Basketball courts are full. There’s a wait for the tennis courts.

Scott Harrelson, a Los Angeles senior lead police officer, cruises slowly through the park in his patrol car, waving here and there.

“This is a project of mine, keeping this park clean,” said Harrelson, 34. “The people here take a lot of pride in their neighborhoods.”

The hub of this 70,000-strong community is Panorama Mall, a 67-store complex anchored by Wal-Mart and La Curacao, an electronics store. The mall’s general manager and its heart and soul is Louise Marquez, whom Harrelson describes as a “shining light for Panorama City.”

“This is my life; this is me,” said Marquez, 50, pointing out the window where Van Nuys Boulevard traffic zooms by. “There are such great people in Panorama City. People can say what they want, but if they come here and look around, they won’t say anything bad anymore.”

The manager of Wal-Mart, which opened in 1998, said he was aware of Panorama City’s reputation before he took the job.

“When I was not familiar with Panorama City, I did hear it was a rough neighborhood,” said Jorge Lopez, 32. “But that is absolutely not what I’ve found. This is one of the friendliest places I know. And we are exceeding the national average for sales and customer traffic for stores of our size.”

That store is a destination for many of the population of 69,901, which, according to the 2000 census, is 63.4% Latino, 12.6% Asian, 12.5% white, 4.3% black and 7.2% mixed and other.

Of the 18,479 housing units, 11,270, or 61%, are rentals.

Despite all the recent praise, Panorama City still has its negatives. One of them is stolen cars.

Of the 1,009 sectors comprising the Los Angeles Police Department, one in Panorama City--an area bounded by Woodman Avenue, Roscoe Boulevard and the Pacoima Wash--ranked second in the city for auto thefts. That reporting district recorded 196 auto thefts, second only to 256 in an area near Los Angeles International Airport.

Despite the crime, Harrelson, who grew up in Panorama City, has high praise for the neighborhood. “It’s really a good community. A few bad apples can spoil the whole bunch.”

Last year, in the crowded area north of Roscoe Boulevard patrolled by the Devonshire Division, home to 43,000 people, there were five homicides, nine rapes, 186 robberies and 131 aggravated assaults. The figures are high for the Valley, but not for a rough part of Los Angeles.

Despite problems, Los Angeles City Council President Alex Padilla, whose 7th District includes Panorama City, said the area has “a great spirit and is thriving.”

“Panorama City has had its fair share of challenges, but it’s come back strong in the last couple of years,” Padilla said, adding that a new Wells Fargo Bank is a good indication of how business sees the potential of the area.

When the nonprofit organization Immaculate Heart Community Blythe Street Project, better known as Casa Esperanza, opened in 1992, the area was notorious for its gang. Shootings and open drug dealing were common.

“I am happy to say that nowadays that is not a big concern,” said Martiza de Artan, director of Casa Esperanza. The concerns have changed.

“The biggest need right now is for education,” De Artan said. “We have this computer program. We thought just the kids would be interested. But we were so pleased to see all these moms show up with their notebooks ready to learn.”

Back at Panorama Mall, Marquez is organizing an art show for schoolchildren.

“We’ve had some hard times, but we’ve been able to conquer them,” Marquez said. “The battle is never-ending. But you can’t give up. When people give up, that’s when communities fall apart. And I know I’m not giving up.”