Isn't It Ironic?

The corner of 6th and Gladys Street in Downtown L.A. is much like any other in our teeming city. Lots of traffic and pedestrians, quite a bit of dirt and grime.

But this corner is also very unique. 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.

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."

These men and women battle with alcohol and drug addictions and homelessness. Many others suffer from mental illnesses that range from simple depression to full-blown schizophrenia. The fact is that most of castaways from what we call "society" wage a daily war against a combination of all of these, if they have the strength or the resources to fight at all. "Cardboard condominiums", actual sleeping quarters made from boxes, paper and trash line the side streets, and there are many more liquor stores than places of employment.

There are more opportunities to score crack cocaine and heroin than there are for training or medical assistance. The men and women who make up the population of Skid Row are not recent immigrants, nor are most of them people who have chosen to live there. They were our neighbors, friends and schoolmates. They are our veterans. Some are our brothers and sisters.

And at this intersection of Hopelessness and Despair, the soup kitchens and detoxes are never lacking for customers. AA meetings are held each night down here at a "park." Its called a park in name only, but it's really just some concrete with a couple of trees surrounded by a high metal fence.

The far corners forming a point that becomes our magical corner of 6th and Gladys. So back to our corner. If you ever feel the need to see how the other half lives, and I hope you will, go to 6th and Gladys Street. Stand at the bus stop there and look around at what we've become.

And while you look around at the grim realities of life for those on the other side, look up. Look up and read. The bus stop sign says the MTA 460, from the corner of 6th and Gladys on Skid Row, goes directly to Disneyland. One bus, one ride. Somewhere, somehow, someone made a very big mistake.

You see the "Happiest Place On Earth" is just a faded dream down here, it's not a destination.

Now that's ironic.