Sponsored message
Audience-funded nonprofit news
radio tower icon laist logo
Next Up:
0:00
0:00
Subscribe
  • Listen Now Playing Listen
  • Listen Now Playing Listen

The Brief

The most important stories for you to know today
  • A soup that holds a rich — and painful — history
    A bowl of broth with mushroom and onion, amongst other vegetables, sits upon a wood table with a plate of broth ingredients in the backdrop.
    A freshly cooked bowl of miến gà, Vietnamese chicken and glass noodle soup, with shiitake mushrooms, scallions, fresh chives and fried shallots.

    Topline:

    Thousands of Vietnamese refugees fled Vietnam 50 years ago, after the war ended, with many ending up in Southern California. For one family, miến gà — a beloved Vietnamese chicken and glass noodle soup — was one of the first homemade meals they had together after reuniting at a refugee camp. Today it remains a source of tradition and comfort.

    Why it matters: Preserving a sense of identity and cultural heritage for refugees is often achieved through food, as recipes are passed down through the generations.

    Why now: It's 50 years since the Vietnam war ended, which led to thousands of Vietnamese people risking their lives on rickety boats to flee desperate conditions. Those who made it to the U.S. remember with sadness the many who didn't.

    Standing over a gas burner in his outdoor kitchen in South Pasadena, Hong Pham toasted an onion and a whole ginger root until they were smoky and black.

    Every Vietnamese household needs a kitchen in their backyard or garage to do the “smelly cooking,” he joked, emphasizing that charring the aromatics is key to enhancing the flavor of miến gà, a Vietnamese chicken and glass noodle soup.

    The dish is comfort in a bowl — and special to Hong and his family, who are among the diaspora of people who fled Vietnam after the war ended a half century ago and settled in places like California. Miến gà was one of the first homemade meals his family had together after reuniting at a refugee camp.

    I had a miserable cold this winter and was searching for a recipe for miến gà when I found one posted by Hong and his wife, Kim Dao, on The Ravenous Couple, their popular food blog, YouTube videos and Instagram account.

    Alongside the recipe, Hong shares a story his father, Tung, told him about the soup’s connection to April 30, the day Saigon fell to communist forces, and his life began to unravel.

    Because he had served in the South Vietnamese Army, Tung was sent to a Viet Cong re-education camp as punishment for supporting the Americans’ war effort. He endured three years of starvation and hard labor, separated from his family.

    A man with short, dark hair and medium light skin tone holds a strainer above a pot in his right hand, and a white bowl in his left hand. He is wearing a patterned white button down and stands behind the stove in a home kitchen.
    Hong Pham serves miến gà at his home in South Pasadena.
    (
    Alisha Jucevic
    /
    KQED
    )

    When he got out, Tung tried to make a living as a teacher, but he barely scraped by. In March 1980, he decided to escape, joining the exodus of Vietnamese refugees who fled their homeland by boat. Because he could only afford three spots on an overcrowded fishing boat, Tung took his two eldest kids — Hong, who was almost 6 at the time, and his 9-year-old sister, Tam — and left behind his pregnant wife, Ly, and another daughter, Hong Ngoc, who was barely two.

    “My mom and dad were OK with splitting up the family, even though they had no idea when — how — at what point in the future, if ever, they would see each other again,” Hong said. “For them to make that decision [when they were] in their 30s was unimaginable to me.”

    Hong and Kim started their blog 16 years ago when they were still dating. They were craving Vietnamese food and wanted to learn how to recreate the dishes their moms cooked for them. Hong’s mom cooked intuitively, using everyday kitchen tools like rice bowls to measure her ingredients, so he decided to write down her methods so he could follow her recipes precisely. Kim helped convert the amounts into the American system of cooking measurements.

    This drew Hong closer to his mom, especially after he moved away from home in Michigan, where the family resettled after coming to America. He often calls her when he’s cooking to get her advice.

    When he went to college and came home to visit during breaks, his mom often greeted him by asking, “Have you eaten?”

    “I would just answer her yes or no, and didn’t think much about it. But now, as a parent, I know what she really meant. It was her way of nourishing us and showing her love and affection,” he said. “And so now that we both cook, we’re so much tighter because of our cooking.” 

    As a daughter of Vietnamese immigrants, I can relate. My parents, brother and I traveled by plane to the United States in 1984 as part of a later wave of refugees who were admitted to the country under the Orderly Departure Program.

    Whenever we call each other, my parents always first ask, “Have you eaten?”

    I had been a longtime admirer of The Ravenous Couple and their culinary adventures. After finding the recipe for miến gà and reading his dad’s story, I reached out to Hong. He was as open and friendly as he seemed online, and he invited me to come cook with him.

    We moved from his backyard kitchen to his brightly lit indoor kitchen to continue making the soup. Hong called his mom on FaceTime at her home in suburban Detroit to ask how much dry bean thread noodles to use in the dish, because they quickly expand in water. I asked her to share her memories of her family’s flight from Vietnam.

    Ly said in Vietnamese that after Tung left, she waited anxiously for news. Tung and the children went on a boat led by the same smuggling organization her other family members hired to get to a safer shore. The group was reputable, but there were reasons to worry: The journey was dangerous and an untold number of refugees lost their lives to dehydration, starvation, pirate attacks or rough seas.

    About 10 days later, a man working for the leader of the smuggling operation came to her door. He said that during the journey to Thailand, Tung begged the leader to bring his wife and toddler on the next trip out of Vietnam, and he agreed.

    Ly said she couldn’t afford to go, but the man urged her to quickly come up with a payment and leave while she was still five months pregnant.

    “He told me if I refused to go, it was my fault because [the ringleader] was trying to keep his promise to my husband,” she said.

    With her mom’s help, Ly borrowed enough gold — the most desirable currency in post-war Vietnam — from neighbors and friends to board a boat with about 90 other refugees, with Hong Ngoc on her lap.

    Ly said the sea was calm and the boat was so overloaded that she could stretch her arm and touch the water. They quickly ran out of food and water, so she fed her daughter a citrus syrup she had made for the trip, so she wouldn’t cry from thirst and hunger.

    They traveled for three days and two nights before landing on an island near the Thai-Cambodian border. Ly said authorities eventually transported her group to a refugee camp in Laem Sing, a district in eastern Thailand. She and Hong Ngoc arrived on April 30, 1980, five years after the Fall of Saigon. She recalled seeing Tung, Hong and Tam in the crowd of people rushing to welcome the latest load of survivors.

    “We were so overcome with emotions, we just hugged each other and cried,” she said.

    Vietnamese refugees consider April 30 a day of mourning. They call it “Black April” because it was the day they lost their country. But for the Phams, it was also a day of rebirth.

    “So many people were lost at sea … so for our family to be able to reunite like that was really a miracle,” Hong said.

    Because of the secrecy surrounding the escape, they never learned the name of the smuggling operation’s leader. He was only known as “Anh Bo.” Hong and his sister, Tam, said they wish they could thank him for bringing their family together.

    “He could have taken anybody, but he kept his word. Even to this day, that means a lot,” Tam said by phone from her home outside Detroit.

    Once reunited, the family stayed in Thailand for several more months so Ly could give birth. Tung named their new baby girl Tudo, or tự do, which means freedom in Vietnamese.

    A Vietnamese family of six, with four children and a mother and a father pose for a family portrait. A young female with bangs and a bob smiles at the camera on the right, a young male in a light blue suit stands slightly behind her, slightly taller, and a young female with long hair and in a collared shirt stands in the center back. A female sits center-front, smiling as she holds a young infant with bangs. A male with dark hair in a gray suit stands behind the female, touching her arm.
    A photo of the Pham family in the early 1980s after they were resettled in Michigan.
    (
    Hong Pham
    )

    At the refugee camp, the family received daily rations of food. Ly said one day, each person received a piece of chicken, so she put everyone’s portion together to make miến gà.

    In the blog, Tung described feeling grateful to eat miến gà with his family, reunited and free.

    “Thinking what could have been and the remote odds of seeing my family together so soon, I ate this simple dish with such happiness,” he said. “It was the most satisfying and unforgettable meal I’ve ever experienced.”

    Ly said she was thankful to her brother, who was the first in her family to arrive in the United States, for sending the money to the refugee camp so she could buy the noodles and other ingredients for the soup.

    At home in South Pasadena, Hong used a whole chicken — head and feet intact — he bought from a fresh poultry store to make his version of miến gà. He placed the chicken in a boiling pot of broth, threw in the charred onion and ginger and reduced the stock to a simmer. Once the chicken was cooked, about 30 minutes later, he lifted it out of the pot and submerged it in a bowl of ice water.

    A black and white image of an Asian family, a man, woman, and three children is pinned onto a refrigerator by a round magnet. An Asian man with a white shirt and khaki pants cuts onions on a cutting board behind the refrigerator.
    A photo on the fridge shows Pham and his family at a refugee camp in Thailand in 1980 after they escaped Vietnam and before they resettled in the United States.
    (
    Alisha Jucevic
    /
    KQED
    )

    Next, he placed the translucent noodles into a handmade ceramic bowl, ladled in the broth and seasoned it with pungent fish sauce. He garnished the soup with chicken, shiitake mushrooms, fried shallots, scallions and fresh chives picked from his herb garden.

    He said his mom used to scoff at his precise plating technique and his insistence on pairing certain dishes with ceramic pieces that he made — a hobby he picked up during the pandemic — to make sure they “look pretty for the ‘Gram.”

    It’s a generational difference, Hong said, because his mom had to cook for survival, whereas he has the luxury of consuming food “with more intention.” We gathered around his dining table and slurped miến gà with Hong’s daughters, Mira and Emi. The noodles were slippery and the soup had an intense chicken flavor combined with the umami of shiitake mushrooms.

    After Tudo was born, the Phams were admitted to the United States as refugees and resettled in Michigan with the support of a Catholic charity. They rented a house in suburban Detroit. Tung worked as a janitor and assembled machinery parts at a factory, while Ly stayed home.

    “When I came here, I didn’t know one word of English, and I didn’t know how to drive. I didn’t know anything,” she said. “But I tried to raise my kids and teach them Vietnamese so they wouldn’t lose their cultural heritage.”

    A young Asian girl in a red striped shirt stands next to an Asian man who hands her spoons and chopsticks in a kitchen. They stand in front of a refrigerator, and the man looks down at the girl.
    Mira Pham, 7, helps her dad, Hong Pham, set the table.
    (
    Alisha Jucevic
    /
    KQED
    )

    When the children went to school full-time, she went back to work as a butcher, a trade she did in the wet markets of Vietnam, this time at a Jewish deli. She also volunteered at her Catholic church, often by making and selling Vietnamese food to raise money for various causes.

    “My children didn’t understand why I spent so much time in church,” she said. “I explained that before we left, I prayed to God that if He delivers our family to safety, I would do everything I could to serve my faith.”

    The family started over with almost nothing.

    Hong remembers wearing secondhand clothes for years because his parents were saving money to pay back their debt. For their first Christmas, his parents wrapped empty boxes and put them under a donated tree because they couldn’t afford to buy gifts.

    “My mom mentioned that when we first arrived, the [sponsor] families didn’t know what we liked to eat and so they would give us canned peas, canned corn and things like that — and a lot of mashed potato flakes and macaroni and cheese,” Hong said.

    A hand holds a pair of tongs, placing mushrooms into bowls with noodles, onion, and broth. There are five bowls of the broth and noodles on the table, and a bowl of green onions on the side.
    Hong Pham dishes out miến gà at his home.
    (
    Alisha Jucevic
    /
    KQED
    )

    She didn’t know how to cook any of it, and instead used whatever she could find at American supermarkets to recreate Vietnamese food.

    “I think that was the ingenuity of that generation. She used all these American ingredients, but it was all made in a Vietnamese way,” he said.

    Along the way, small acts of kindness helped the family survive.

    When someone noticed that Tung was taking the bus to get from one job to another, they offered him rides. Later, a sponsor gave him a used car and taught him to drive.

    “It was a collective effort, a lot of generous people in the community helped us get through a tough time,” Hong said.

    Hong said his parents constantly reminded him and his siblings how lucky they were to be in the land of opportunity and achieve their dreams. The four kids graduated from the University of Michigan and went on to earn graduate degrees. Hong became a doctor, Tam an engineer, Ngoc a public health expert, and Tudo an attorney.

    Though he lives far away from his parents, Hong and his wife stay connected to their heritage by speaking Vietnamese to their daughters and by sharing food with their community. They host cooking parties in their backyard to help raise funds for charities. More recently, they made an inventive version of banh mi with brisket and homemade pickles to support victims of the Eaton wildfire in nearby Altadena.

    Three Asian people, two young girls and an older man, are sitting at a dining room table eating a bowl of broth, noodles, and onions. The girl in the foreground wears glasses and holds chopsticks and a spoon, the younger girl wears a red striped shirt and holds chopsticks, and the older man wears a white patterned shirt and smiles while holding his bowl and spoon. The window behind the table lets in white natural light, which illuminates the room and table.
    Emi Pham, 10, her sister Mira, 7, and their dad, Hong Pham, eat miến gà, a Vietnamese chicken and glass noodle soup garnished with shiitake mushrooms, scallions, fresh chives and crispy fried shallots.
    (
    Alisha Jucevic
    /
    KQED
    )

    Hong said Tung is 85 and no longer able to speak coherently due to a stroke. Ly takes care of him. Hong said he’s glad he recorded Tung’s memories of miến gà years ago and regrets not doing more recordings while his dad was still able to speak. He said his dad was a great storyteller and had a knack for spotting Vietnam veterans wherever they went.

    “He’d approach them really casually and thank them for their service, and next thing you know, they’ll have a long conversation,” Hong said. “He loved to share his stories and listen to other people’s stories as well.”

    If his dad could speak, Hong said he would probably say that he’s “forever grateful to America for welcoming us as a family and as a whole community.”

    He said he also thinks Tung would be sad about the country’s tough immigration policies under President Donald Trump.

    “Part of me also would like to think he would be abhorrent about the current state of America, the freedoms that he escaped and risked his life and lives of his children for, slowly eroding away,” he said.

  • Dodgers fans grapple with loyalty ahead of it
    A man with medium skin tone, wearing a blue Dodgers shirt, speaks into a microphone standing behind a podium next to others holding up signs that read "No repeat to White House. Legalization for all" and "Stand with you Dodger community." They all stand in front of a blue sign that reads "Welcome to Dodger Stadium."
    Jorge "Coqui" H. Rodriguez speaks at a press conference outside Dodger Stadium on Wednesady to demand the Dodgers not visit the White House following their 2025 World Series win.

    Topline:

    Less than 24 hours before season opener, longtime Dodgers fans demand the team divest from immigration detention centers and decline the White House visit.

    More details: More than 30 people joined Richard Santillan on Wednesday morning for a press conference held near 1000 Vin Scully Drive to convey a message directly to the team. “We are demanding that the Dodgers stop participating in funding of inhumane treatment of families and do not go to the White House to celebrate with the criminal in chief,” Evelyn Escatiola told the crowd. “Together we have the power to make a change.”

    The backstory: The team’s 2025’s visit to the White House drew ire from the largely Latino fan base, citing the Trump administration’s ongoing attacks on immigrants. In June, the team came under further scrutiny when rumors swirled online that federal immigration agents were using the stadium’s parking, which immigration authorities later denied in statements posted on social media accounts.

    Read on ... for more on how some fans are feeling leading up to Opening Day.

    This story first appeared on The LA Local.

    Since 1977, Richard Santillan has been to every Opening Day game at Dodger Stadium. 

    “The tradition goes from my father, to me, to my children and grandchildren. Some of my best memories are with my father and children here at Dodger Stadium,” Santillan told The LA Local, smiling under the shade of palm trees near the entrance to the ballpark Wednesday morning. He was there to protest the team less than 24 hours before Opening Day.

    Santillan, like countless other loyal Dodgers fans, is grappling with his fan identity over the team’s decision to accept an invitation to the White House and owner Mark Walter’s ties to ICE detention facilities.

    More than 30 people joined Santillan on Wednesday morning for a press conference held near 1000 Vin Scully Drive to convey a message directly to the team. 

    “We are demanding the Dodgers stop participating in funding of inhumane treatment of families and do not go to the White House to celebrate with the criminal in chief,” Evelyn Escatiola told the crowd. “Together, we have the power to make a change.”

    Escatiola, a former dean of East Los Angeles College and longtime community organizer, urged fans to flex their economic power by “letting the Dodgers know that we do not support repression.”

    Jorge “Coqui” Rodriguez, a lifelong Dodgers fan, spoke to the crowd and called on Dodgers ownership to divest from immigration detention centers owned and operated by GEO Group and CoreCivic.

    A man with medium skin tone, wearing a blue Dodgers t-shirt, speaks into a microphone behind a podium.
    Jorge Coqui H Rodriguez speaks at a press conference outside Dodger Stadium on March 25, 2026, to demand the Dodgers not to visit the White House following their 2025 World Series win.
    (
    J.W. Hendricks
    /
    The LA Local
    )

    In a phone interview a day before the protest, Rodriguez told The LA Local he did not want the Dodgers using his “cheve” or beer money to fund detention centers. 

    “They can’t take our parking money, our cacahuate money, our cheve money, our Dodger Dog money and invest those funds into corporations that are imprisoning people. It’s wrong,” Rodriguez said. 

    Rodriguez considers the Dodgers one of the most racially diverse teams and said the players need to support fans at a time when heightened immigration enforcement has become more common across L.A.

    The team’s 2025’s visit to the White House drew ire from the largely Latino fan base, citing the Trump administration’s ongoing attacks on immigrants. 

    In June, the team came under further scrutiny when rumors swirled online that federal immigration agents were using the stadium’s parking, which immigration authorities later denied in statements posted on social media accounts.

    The team again came under fire after not releasing a statement on the impacts of ICE raids on its mostly Latino fan base at the height of immigration enforcement last summer. The team later agreed to invest $1 million to support families affected by immigration enforcement.

    When he learned the Dodgers were pledging only $1 million to families in need, Rodriguez called the amount a  “slap in the face.” 

    “These guys just bought the Lakers for billions of dollars and they give a million dollars to fight for legal services? That’s a joke,” Rodriguez said. “They need to have a moral backbone and not be investing in those companies.”

    According to reporting from the Los Angeles Times, former Dodgers pitcher Clayton Kershawsaid last week that he is looking forward to the trip.

    “I went when President [Joe] Biden was in office. I’m going to go when President [Donald] Trump is in office,” Kershaw said. “To me, it’s just about getting to go to the White House. You don’t get that opportunity every day, so I’m excited to go.”

    The Dodgers have yet to announce when their planned visit will take place. 

    Santillan sometimes laments his decision to give up his season tickets in protest of the team. His connection to the stadium and the memories he has made there with family and friends will last a lifetime, he said. On Thursday, he will uphold his tradition and be there for the first pitch of the season, but with a heavy heart.

    “It’s a family tradition, but the Dodgers have a lot of work to do,” he said.

  • Sponsored message
  • Warmer weather has caused more biting flies
    A zoomed in shot of a fuzzy black fly with some white spots.
    The warmer weather and high water flow are causing an early outbreak of black flies in the San Gabriel Valley.

    Topline:

    The warmer weather and high water flow are causing an early outbreak of black flies in the San Gabriel Valley, according to officials.

    What are black flies? Black flies are tiny, pesky insects that often get mistaken for mosquitoes. The biting flies breed near foothill communities like Altadena, Azusa, San Dimas and Glendora. They also thrive near flowing water.

    What you need to know: Black flies fly in large numbers and long distances. When they bite both humans and pets, they aim around the eyes and the neck. While the bites can be painful, they don’t transmit diseases in L.A. County.

    A population spike: Anais Medina Diaz, director of communications at the SGV Mosquito and Vector Control District, told LAist that at this time last year, surveillance traps had single-digit counts of adult black flies, but this year those traps are collecting counts above 500.

    So, why is the population growing? Diaz said the surge is unusual for this time of year.

    “We are experiencing them now because of the warmer temperatures we've been having,” Diaz said. “And of course, all the water that's going down through the river, we have a high flow of water that is not typical for this time of year.”

    What officials are doing: Officials say teams are identifying and treating public sources where black flies can thrive, but that many of these sites are influenced by natural or infrastructure conditions outside their control.

    How to protect yourself: Black flies can be hard to avoid outside in dense vegetation, but you can reduce the chance of a bite by:

    • Wearing loose-fitted clothing that covers the entire body. 
    • Wearing a hat with netting on top. 
    • Spraying on repellent, but check the label. For a repellent to be effective, it needs to have at least 15% DEET, the only active ingredient that works against black flies.
    • Turning off any water features like fountains for at least 24 hours, especially in foothill communities.

    See an uptick in black flies in your area? Here's how to report it

    SGV Mosquito and Vector Control District
    Submit a tip here
    You can also send a tip to district@sgvmosquito.org
    (626) 814-9466

    Greater Los Angeles Vector Control District
    Submit a service request here
    You can also send a service request to info@GLAmosquito.org
    (562) 944-9656

    Orange County Mosquito and Vector Control
    Submit a report here
    You can also send a report to ocvcd@ocvector.org
    (714) 971-2421 or (949) 654-2421

  • Rent hike to blame
    A black and brown dog lays down on a brown sofa on the foreground. In the background, a man wearing a plaid shirt sits.
    Jeremy Kaplan and Florence at READ Books in Eagle Rock.
    Topline:
    Local favorite mom and pop shop READ Books in Eagle Rock is facing displacement due to a steep rent hike. The owners say they’re just one of several small businesses along Eagle Rock Boulevard struggling to keep up with lease increases.

    The backstory: Over the past 19 years, many in the neighborhood have come to love READ Books for its eclectic collection of used titles and their shop dog Florence.

    What happened? The building where Kaplan and his wife Debbie rent was recently sold and the rent increased by more than 130% to $2,805 a month, Kaplan said. He told LAist it was an increase his small business simply could not absorb.

    What's next? While he looks for a new spot, Kaplan says he’s forming a coalition of local businesses and activist groups to see what can be done to help other small businesses facing similar displacement. He wants to address the displacement issue for businesses like his, which have made Eagle Rock the distinctive neighborhood that it is today.

    Read on... for what small businesses can do.

    A local favorite mom-and-pop bookshop in Eagle Rock is facing displacement due to a steep rent hike. The owners say theirs is just one of several small businesses along Eagle Rock Boulevard struggling to keep up with lease increases.

    Over the past 19 years, many in the neighborhood have come to love READ Books for its eclectic collection of used titles and shop dog Florence.

    Co-owner Jeremy Kaplan said it’s been a delight to grow with the community over the years.

    “Like seeing kids come back in, who were in grade school and now they’re in college,” Kaplan said.

    But the building where Kaplan and wife Debbie rent was recently sold, and the rent increased by more than 130% to $2,805 a month, Kaplan said. He told LAist it was an increase his small business simply could not absorb.

    Kaplan said he originally was given 30 days notice of the rent increase. After some research, assistance from Councilmember Ysabel Jurado’s office and some pro-bono legal help, Kaplan said he pushed back and got the 90-day notice he’s afforded by state law.

    California Senate Bill 1103 requires landlords to give businesses with five or less employees 90 days’ notice for rent increases exceeding 10%, among other protections.

    Systems Real Estate, the property management company, did not immediately respond to LAist’s request for comment.

    What can small businesses do? 

    Nadia Segura, directing attorney of the Small Business Program at pro bono legal aid non-profit Bet Tzedek said California law does not currently allow for rent control for commercial tenancies.

    Outside of the protections under SB 1103, Segura said small businesses like READ Books don’t have much other recourse. And even then, commercial landlords are not required to inform their tenants of their protections under the law.

    “There’s still a lot of people that don’t know about SB 1103. And then it’s very sad that they tell them they have these rent increases and within a month they have to leave,” Segura said.

    She said her group is seeing steep rent hikes like this for commercial tenants across the city.

    “We are seeing this even more with the World Cup coming up, the Olympics coming up. And I will say it was very sad to see that also after the wildfires,” Segura said.

    Part of Bet Tzedek’s ongoing work is to advocate for small businesses, working with landlords who are increasing rents to see if they are willing to give business owners longer leases that lock in rents.

    What’s next 

    After READ Books posted about their situation on social media, commenters chimed in to express their outrage and love for the little shop.

    While he looks for a new spot, Kaplan says he’s forming a coalition of local businesses and activist groups to see what can be done to help other small businesses facing similar displacement. He wants to address the displacement issue for businesses like his, which have made Eagle Rock the distinctive neighborhood that it is today.

    Owl Talk, a longtime Eagle Rock staple selling clothing and accessories in a unit in the same building as READ Books, is facing a “more than double” rent increase, according to a post on their Instagram account.

    Kaplan said he’s been in touch with the office of state Assemblywoman Jessica Caloza and wants to explore the possibility of introducing legislation to set up protections for small businesses like his, including rent-control measures or a vacancy tax for landlords. Kaplan said he also reached out to the office of state Sen. Maria Durazo.

    By his count, Kaplan said there are about a dozen businesses within surrounding blocks that are at risk of closing their doors or have shuttered due to rent increases or other struggles.

    When READ Books was founded during the Great Recession, Kaplan said he knew it was a longshot to open a bookstore at the same time so many were struggling to stay in business.

    “It was kind of interesting to be doing something that neighborhoods needed. That was important to me growing up, that was important to my children, that was important to my wife growing up,” Kaplan said.

    “And then somebody comes in and says, ‘We’re gonna over double your rent.”

  • Ballots to be sent out
    A person sits in the carriage of a crane and places solar panels atop a post. The crane is white, and the number 400 is printed on the carriage in red.
    A field team member of the Bureau of Street Lighting installs a solar-powered light in Filipinotown.

    Topline:

    The Los Angeles City Council approved a plan in a 13-1 vote on Tuesday to send ballots to more than half a million property owners asking if they are willing to pay more per year to fortify the city’s streetlight repair budget, most of which has essentially been frozen since the 1990s. The item still requires L.A. Mayor Karen Bass’ signature, but her office confirmed to LAist on Wednesday that she’ll approve it.

    Frozen budget: Most of the city’s Bureau of Street Lighting budget comes from an assessment that people who own property illuminated by lights pay on their county property tax bill. The amount people pay depends on the kind of property they own and how much they benefit from lighting. A typical single-family home currently pays $53 annually, and in total, the assessments bring in about $45 million annually for the city to repair and maintain streetlights. Changing the amount the Bureau of Street Lighting gets from the assessment requires a vote among property owners who benefit from the lights.

    Ballots: L.A. City Council’s vote gives city staff the green light to prepare and send out those ballots. Miguel Sangalang, who oversees the bureau, said at a committee meeting earlier this month that he expects to send out ballots by April 17. Notices about the ballots will be sent out prior to the ballots themselves.

    Near unanimous vote: L.A. City Councilmember Monica Rodriguez was the only “No” vote on Tuesday, saying she wanted to see a more current strategic plan for the bureau. Sangalang said the bureau developed a plan in 2022 that lays out how money will be spent. Councilmember Imelda Padilla was absent for the vote.

    Vote count: Votes will be weighted according to the assessment amount. Basically, the more you’re asked to pay yearly to maintain streetlights, the more your vote will count. Ballots received before June 2 will be tabulated by the L.A. City Clerk.

    How much more money: According to a report, the amount needed in assessments from property owners to meet the repair and maintenance needs of the city’s streetlighting in the next fiscal year is nearly $112 million.

    Use of the money: Sangalang said at a March 11 committee meeting that the extra funds would be used to double the number of staff to handle repairs and procure solar streetlights, which don’t face the threat of copper wire theft. That would all potentially reduce the time it takes to repair simple fixes down to a week. Currently, city residents wait for months to see broken streetlights repaired.The assessment would come with a three-year auditing mechanism.

    Topline:

    The Los Angeles City Council approved a plan in a 13-1 vote Tuesday to send ballots to more than a half-million property owners asking if they are willing to pay more per year to fortify the city’s streetlight repair budget, most of which essentially has been frozen since the 1990s. The item still requires L.A. Mayor Karen Bass’ signature, but her office confirmed to LAist on Wednesday that she’ll approve it.

    Frozen budget: Most of the city’s Bureau of Street Lighting budget comes from an assessment that people who own property illuminated by lights pay on their county property tax bill. The amount people pay depends on the kind of property they own and how much they benefit from lighting. A typical single-family home currently pays $53 annually, and in total, the assessments bring in about $45 million annually for the city to repair and maintain streetlights. Changing the amount the Bureau of Street Lighting gets from the assessment requires a vote among property owners who benefit from the lights.

    Ballots: L.A. City Council’s vote gives city staff the green light to prepare and send out those ballots. Miguel Sangalang, who oversees the bureau, said at a committee meeting earlier this month that he expects to send out ballots by April 17. Notices about the ballots will be sent out prior to the ballots themselves.

    Near unanimous vote: L.A. City Councilmember Monica Rodriguez was the only “No” vote Tuesday, saying she wanted to see a more current strategic plan for the bureau. Sangalang said the bureau developed a plan in 2022 that lays out how money will be spent. Councilmember Imelda Padilla was absent for the vote.

    Vote count: Votes will be weighted according to the assessment amount. Basically, the more you’re asked to pay yearly to maintain streetlights, the more your vote will count. Ballots received before June 2 will be tabulated by the L.A. City Clerk.

    How much more money: According to a report, the amount needed in assessments from property owners to meet the repair and maintenance needs of the city’s streetlighting in the next fiscal year is nearly $112 million.

    Use of the money: Sangalang said at a March 11 committee meeting that the extra funds would be used to double the number of staff to handle repairs and procure solar streetlights, which don’t face the threat of copper wire theft. That would all potentially reduce the time it takes to repair simple fixes down to a week. Currently, city residents wait for months to see broken streetlights repaired. The assessment would come with a three-year auditing mechanism.