Skid Row, Downtown Los Angeles

This particular corner, however, is unique. Almost a magical corner... almost.

And somewhere at this intersection in both the richest and poorest city in the world is a story.

Let’s see if I can tell it.

In Los Angeles, "Skid Row" is the common name for a six square-block area of downtown that provides clothing, food and shelter for thousands of the most downtrodden residents that have chosen to call L.A. “home.”

Addiction and homelessness are the norm on Skid Row, its residents surrounded by liquor stores, crack dealers and prostitutes. Some of our veterans are there, suffering from PTSD. There are runaways from all across the country, no longer willing to endure whatever abuses were taking place at home. Many others suffer from mental illnesses that range from simple depression to full-blown schizophrenia. While a few outpatient programs offer services for Downtowns' mentally ill, it's the L. A. County Jail System that inherited the job of housing those too sick to take care of themselves, their behavior a threat to both the rich and the middle-class. The Jailers and Deputy's spend their shifts acting out roles they never auditioned for- Doctor, Nurse, and Psych Tech..

Castaways from what we call society, the men and women of Skid Row fight a daily war against enemies both real and imagined, if they have the strength or the resources to fight at all.

“Cardboard condominiums”, sleeping quarters made from boxes, paper and trash line the side streets. The number of liquor stores far outnumbers places for employment. And there are more opportunities to score drugs than there are for job training or medical assistance.

The men and women that make up the population of Skid Row are not recent immigrants, neither are they people who have chosen to live on streets and in alleys, eating from what we throw away.

They were our neighbors, friends and schoolmates. They are our veterans. Some are our brothers and sisters. Before they fell this far others had names like Mom, or Dad.

At this intersection of Hopelessness and Despair the soup kitchens and detox centers rarely lack for customers. AA meetings are held each evening and twice on Sundays in a park that is a park in name only; In reality it's concrete and a few old trees surrounded by a very high metal fence. The farthest edges of that fence form a point that ends where our corner begins.

As you approach the bus bench that borders the concrete park, surrounded by the grim realities of life for those on the other side of the tall metal fence... stand there for a moment, look around and see what we’ve become.

Come to 6th and Gladys and see how the other half really lives. Visit during daylight, so that you can see it clearly and experience it immediately. Walk towards the magical corner and do what its residents almost never do.

And then do what its residents can't take a chance and do.

Look up.

Look up, and read.

Read the sign above the bus stop that says, "MTA 460-Disneyland."

And let it sink in that right from the corner of 6th and Gladys, in Downtown L.A.'s Skid Row, is a bus ride straight to The Magic Kingdom, The Happiest Place on Earth.

Except “The Happiest Place on Earth” isn't a destination for any of the residents of Skid Row.

Somewhere, somehow, someone made a very big mistake.

And though it isn't magic, it most certaintly is a trick.