Gentlemen, may I present the Cecil Hotel. The most notorious, and most infamous hotel in Los Angeles.
In the first photo, my CB is playing Where’s Waldo below the light post. In the third photo, a heart and DTLA in blue on the side of the building seem to make a plaintive effort to mask this hotel’s gruesome story.
The Cecil has been a den of drug addicts and transients for years. Its East facing windows overlook LA’s Skid Row, a vast, four-square-block tent city. Yet, it still, somehow, attracts tourists who either embrace the macabre, or who are blissfully unaware of this building’s history.
Such was the case with one young Canadian tourist, whose mysterious disappearance and later discovery, drowned in one of the Cecil’s rooftop water towers became the most bizarre hotel death in Los Angeles history, and the subject of a Netflix documentary. The only clues as to her final disposition is an eerie security video showing her in a confused state near one of the Cecil’s elevators.
Not a place for the weak of heart. But fun to share, particularly after I’ve had a few post-ride Mai Tais. Which might explain my verbosity here.