Page 31 - October 2022
P. 31

not had any experiences I would classify as
       “evil,” or dangerous until one day in the 1990’s.
       If you mention Los Angeles to anyone today,

       they immediately think of the “new” city that          the fairly recent influx of the Vodun religion.
       grew up in the 1950’s and later, the glittering        Of course, there were celebrations for the dia de
       glassy and steel buildings downtown, the tall          los Muertos with the sugar candy skulls, breads,
       buildings and Hollywood. However, the truth            and the ever-present marigolds so beloved by

       be told, there exists in LA land areas of the          the spirits of those who have passed on before.
       original Spanish and Mexican land grants, with         Then throw in this Anglo-Irish individual in the
       remnants of the older, Latino culture with all         midst of it all with his cultural identification,
       their beliefs and cultural superstitions. It is in     and you have a recipe or lightening rod for the

       these parts of El Pueblo de Nuestra Senora la          unexplained to occur.
       Reina de los Angeles de Porciuncula that my                I was alone in our building one night—an
       knowledge of the legend of the Evil-Lo begins.         old, re-purposed church during the Halloween
           I was living and working in one of those           holiday working on reports and the accounts

       areas outside of the city limits in a Hispanic         due the next day. It was quiet, with no trick or
       (99.99%) old Spanish land grant. This town             treaters coming to the office doors. Closer to
       was not “modern” at all, but had many older            midnight there was a silence in the surrounding
       buildings, sections where the families of current      streets, and you could hear the building itself

       residents had lived for over 150 years. It was         settling. Then, out of the blue, I heard the
       an eclectic community, a mission-era Catholic          pitter-patter of small, tiny feet echoing down
       community, but beneath it all there were the           the tile of the hallway. Okay, I said to myself,
       botanicas and curanderos thriving along with           so someone has brought their child with them




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