The Brief

Griffith Park has always been more than, well, just a park. It’s been compared to New York’s Central Park and Golden Gate Park in San Francisco, but this urban wilderness is in a league of its own.

Its past lives — aside from the over 4,200 acres of natural chaparral and parkland landscape — include an aerodrome, an ostrich farm, public housing, multiple civil rights actions, and of course, the stomping ground for P-22.

If you’ve resolved to explore more in 2024, Los Angeles’ great backyard is worth your time. It’s got great hiking trails, compelling history, and stories that overlap with plenty of cool things (and some not so cool) about this city. Here’s your guide to everything Griffith Park.

A brief early history (and curse)

A view of the Hollywoodland sign (not yet Hollywood!) from Mount Hollywood taken in 1937.

(

Herman Schultheis

/

Herman J Schultheis Collection, Los Angeles Photographers Collection/Los Angeles Public Library

)

Before you get up close and personal with nature, it’s important to appreciate how this vast park came into L.A.’s care.

The San Gabriel Band of Mission Indians, also known as the Gabrieleno Tongva people, have been the Indigenous caretakers of the L.A. basin long before it was ever called that.

Archaeologists found artifacts in Griffith Park indicating the mouth of Fern Dell Canyon was once a tribal village, with council meeting grounds and a trading post area. The area has been a L.A. historic-cultural monument since 1973, with a plaque making it under the Fern Dell sign.

A rare look at Bee Rock during a snowy time in 1949.

(

Van Yuneo

/

Security Pacific National Bank Collection/Los Angeles Public Library

)

Things changed under Spanish rule. The area we know as Griffith Park became part of Rancho Los Feliz (yep that Los Feliz), a Spanish land grant owned by José Vicente Feliz. He was a corporal for the Crown who escorted the 11 families who settled L.A. in 1781, so he was a very big deal here.

There’s a bit of lore here too. In 1863, a member of the Feliz family who had rights to the land died of smallpox. Even though his live-in sister and niece were still alive, he gave most of the Rancho to the family’s lawyer, Don Antonio Coronel, in his will.

As lore would have it, Coronel and his lawyer, Don Innocante, “were believed to have dishonestly obtained the dying Feliz’s signature on the will.” In retaliation, his niece Doña Petranilla is said to have gone up to Bee Rock — a peak in the park — to call upon the gods.

“She cursed the land,” said Mike Eberts, a professor and Griffith Park historian. “You know, 'the cattle shall not fatten. There will be pestilence and plague' and so on and so forth. And for the next 50 to 100 years, whenever anything bad would happen in Griffith Park, it’d kind of get blamed on the curse.”

Eberts, who wrote a book on Griffith Park, doesn’t put much stock into the curse and believes a newspaper columnist is responsible for drumming it up. (For a bit of fun, LAist asked the people interviewed for this story if they believed in the curse. Everyone said no, but acknowledged that bad things have happened there.)

In later years, the parkland changed hands a couple more times before falling under the control of a particularly important person in 1882: Griffith J. Griffith.

Griffith J. Griffith’s big role

Griffith J. Griffith, the donor of Griffith Park to Los Angeles, taken in 1910.

(

Security Pacific National Bank Collection/Los Angeles Public Library

)

As you might’ve guessed, Griffith Park is named after this former owner. Griffith emigrated to the United States in 1865 from South Wales. He was a man with a fortune from California’s gold mines, a fake colonel title and a “complicated personality,” Eberts said. (Fun fact: His business card said G. J. Griffith, Capitalist.)

He enjoyed nature, put an ostrich farm on the grounds and set up an aerodrome. According to Eberts, before Griffith eventually donated the land, someone made a pact with Griffith that if there were any gold doubloons found under today’s park center, they’d “split the booty.” Griffith was never short of dreams.

“Among his insights, Griffith was looking out over Los Angeles in the 1890s, which was, you know, a little bit the backside of nowhere, but growing,” Eberts said. “And Griffith really thought that Los Angeles was going to become a great city.”

He imagined the city growing around a big park, which seemed a bit lofty at the time because Griffith Park in those days wasn’t actually in the city limits. In fact, for the first few years after Griffith and his wife donated the park, it was outside L.A. boundaries.

"Then, with the annexation of Hollywood in 1910, there was a move to make the park accessible from Hollywood," Eberts said. “That led to the development of not just roads, but Fern Dell itself.”

Fern Dell (also spelled Ferndell) is a half-mile trail that is often described as a hidden gem or an enchanting, shaded path that takes you up to the park from Los Feliz Boulevard, winding through a canyon with the same namesake. (That’s also where the Gabrieleno Tongva village was located.)

A vintage postcard shows Fern Dell, so named because it is covered with ferns and other tropical growth.

(

Security Pacific National Bank Collection/Los Angeles Public Library

)

When Griffith and his wife donated the park to the city in 1896, it was a 5-square mile Christmas gift to Angelenos, given with the intent of it remaining a free park. In later years, Griffith shockingly shot his wife (she lived), which tarnished his reputation with city leaders.

But their donation still impacts L.A., because not only is there a large swath where nature can run free by our concrete home, it’s free for Angelenos to access too.

“It’s serving what the Colonel [Griffith] wanted,” said Marian Dodge, a past president of Friends of Griffith Park and chair of its history committee. “He wanted it to be a relief valve and it really does that.”

A magnet for significant events

Griffith Park has been like the quiet background actor in quite a few big movements in L.A. Here’s a brief look at some of those.

A public housing stint

There are quite a few buildings in Griffith Park, but did you know that a community lived in the park?

At the end of World War II, thousands of people returned to L.A. to build civilian lives. But that influx, combined with an already-growing population of war industry workers, created a severe housing shortage. For military folks, many came here unable to find housing to rent.

In 1946, a temporary response was set up in Griffith Park in just a matter of months: a major city-run public housing project. Rodger Young Village consisted of 750 quonset huts — temporary buildings made of steel — which were intended to house 1,500 families or about 6,000 residents (this took over where that aerodrome used to be).

Children on a slipper slide at Rodger Young Village on Feb. 4, 1952.

(

Leonard Nadel

/

Housing Authority Collection/Los Angeles Public Library

)

A row of quonset huts at Rodger Young Village on July 19, 1950.

(

Leonard Nadel

/

Housing Authority Collection/Los Angeles Public Library

)

“[Rodger Young Village] was not just public housing, but the first real integrated public housing in Los Angeles,” said Sarah Lann, the education director for the Los Angeles Conservancy.

Residents were primarily families of color who were discriminated against in the private housing market, making Rodger Young Village a viable home on many levels. But after public housing lost favor and the housing crisis eased, the village was razed in 1954.

There aren’t any remnants at its spot on the northeast corner of Griffith Park, even though the place had everything you’d expect from a town, like a malt shop to a dental office. The land now holds L.A. Zoo and Autry Museum parking lots. Lann says Rodger Young Village reminds her that if you want to understand L.A., “you poke Griffith Park and some amazing new aspect of history rears its head.”

Dreaming up Disneyland

Another highlight about Griffith Park comes from Walt Disney himself.

As the story goes, Disney would sit on a bench by the merry-go-round as his daughters rode. That lull, observing his kids have fun, gave him an idea: To create a theme park where children and adults could have fun. And boy, that idea took off. Disney Adults are thriving these days.

If you go to Disneyland, look along Main St. USA for a display with a Griffith Park bench and restored merry-go-round horses.

Dean Musgrove

(

Herald Examiner Collection/Los Angeles Public Library

)

Civil rights moments

That merry-go-round has seen some things. In 1961, it was the site of a protest with people who were angry over the operator’s treatment of Black teens. The kids reportedly jumped on and off the ride without paying, calling themselves “Freedom Riders” and aligning with the Civil Rights protests then happening.

Reportedly, the 75 police officers who were called to shut down the protest used racial slurs — a contentious example of how law enforcement treated Black communities in the ‘60s.

Seven years later, the merry-go-round was the site of a “gay day” in the park. At least three gay-ins were held in Griffith Park, which was a popular cruising spot for men back then, and those in attendance came to hear activists talk about gay civil rights.

Things to do at Griffith Park

Now, onto enjoying nature at the park.

We’ll spare you the usuals — of course Griffith Observatory is a great time. There is a lot to do and see here, ranging from a Bette Davis picnic area to the Travel Town Museum. But there are a few spots that could be new to you.

You could check out Amir’s Garden, which was created after a brush fire swept through the area in 1971. It’s named after Amir Dialameh, a wine merchant who asked the city if he could repair part of the burnt land. Before passing in 2003, he planted a garden to make a scenic rest spot for hikers with more than 60 varieties of trees.

There’s also a Firefighter’s Memorial that commemorates those who died in the 1933 brush fire that took over Mineral Wells Canyon.

Griffith Park has its own official list of attractions. The L.A. Conservancy also has a list of 30 different sites to check out. Out of those, here are a few options we’d recommend:

• The Old Zoo: 4801 Griffith Park Drive, Los Angeles, CA 90027
• Bee Rock: No set address, but directions can be found here.
• Feliz Adobe: 4730 Crystal Springs Drive, Los Angeles 90027
• Fern Dell waterfall and bridge: 2333 Fern Dell Drive, Los Angeles 90027
• Ellen Reid SOUNDWALK: No set address. SOUNDWALK is a GPS-enabled, app-based experience where the path you walk dictates what music you hear.

Getting around the park

Want to navigate the park without getting turned around? Keep this Griffith Park map handy, traveler.

A map of Griffith Park.

(

Courtesy City of Los Angeles Department of Recreation and Parks

/

LAParks.org

)

You can find Metro, biking and parking information here. Walking directions are available there too.

For activities in the park, such as camp and bike rental locations, check that out here. Griffith Park has maps of trails, current information on trail closures and special restrictions at the Ranger Station.

The park is open from 5 a.m. to 10:30 p.m.

Nearby eats to try nearby

And if you’re hungry after a long hike, we got you covered.

Griffith Park Clubhouse

• What: A clubhouse that’s located around the Wilson and Harding golf courses. Anyone can eat at the restaurant, which offers American-style breakfast and lunch favorites, like omelets and sandwiches.
• Where: 5500 Griffith Park Drive, Los Angeles, CA 90027
• When: Daily, 7 a.m. - 6:30 p.m.

Franklin's Cafe and Market

• What: A cafe to pick up snacks and maps, or sit down and get a kimchi bowl or BLT. The cafe also serves wines and crafted beer. (This spot is cash-free.)
• Where: 2650 North Vermont Ave., Los Angeles, CA 90027
• When: Daily, 7 a.m. - 6 p.m.

The Trails

• What: A self-described “rustic” walk-up cafe that specializes in baked goods, coffees and teas. You can pick up quick breakfast and lunch foods to eat outside.
• Where: 2333 Fern Dell Drive, Los Angeles, CA 90027
• When: Open Thursday to Monday, 8 a.m. - 4 p.m.

Scout’s Honor BBQ

• What: Near the topside of the park, this place is where you can get a more meaty meal. From ribs to burgers, you can get all the barbeque trimmings here.
• Where 1223 West Riverside Drive, Burbank, CA 91506
• When: Daily, 3 p.m. - 8 p.m.

Raul Malo, the leader of the country band The Mavericks and one of the most recognizable voices in roots music, died Monday night, according to a representative of the band. The guitarist and singer had been battling cancer.

He was hospitalized last week, forcing him to miss tribute shows staged in his honor at the Ryman Auditorium over the weekend. He was 60 years old.

"No one embodied life and love, joy and passion, family, friends, music and adventure the way our beloved Raul did," read a statement released by his family.

Malo's group, The Mavericks, mourned the loss of their leader in a social post.

"Anyone with the pleasure of being in Raul's orbit knew that he was a force of human nature, with an infectious energy," the statement read. "Over a career of more than three decades entertaining millions around the globe, his towering creative contributions and unrivaled, generational talent created the kind of multicultural American music reaching far beyond America itself."

Over a career that lasted four decades, The Mavericks lived up to the band's name, challenging expectations and following a roadmap crafted by Malo's expansive musical upbringing as the son of Cuban immigrants in Miami.

"I grew up in a very musical household. There was all kinds of music around always," he told WHYY's Fresh Air in 1995. "We listened to everything from Hank Williams to Celia Cruz to Sam Cooke to Bobby Darin. It didn't matter."

In 1992, Malo told NPR that his widespread influences weren't always understood or appreciated in his South Florida hometown, but he said that his struggle to fit in taught him to trust his instincts. Malo had become the guitarist and lead singer for The Mavericks in 1989, alongside co-founders Robert Reynolds and Paul Deakin, and his roaring, sentimental voice defined the band's sound and remained its constant as the group's catalog moved from slow, tender ballads to full-throttle rock songs. In 1995, the band released its biggest hit with "All You Ever Do Is Bring Me Down," a swinging country song featuring an assist from Tex-Mex accordion legend Flaco Jimenez.

As the band grew in members and devoted listeners, The Mavericks continued to push the boundaries of American music, weaving a richly layered tapestry of textures and stories. With more than a dozen studio albums, The Mavericks collected praise and recognition from the Academy of Country Music, the Country Music Association and the Recording Academy. Although they took a hiatus for several years, Malo never stopped making music — and returned to his bandmates with renewed inspiration.

Following its 30th anniversary, the group released its first full-length Spanish album in 2020, aptly titled En Español. The record reimagined Latin standards and folklore-tinged popular tunes; it also made an implicit political statement about Latin music's contributions to American culture.

"In our own little way, if we could get somebody that perhaps is on the fence on issues and hears us singing in Spanish and perhaps reminds them of the beautiful cultures that make up what this country is trying to be and what it should be, so be it," Malo told NPR at the time. "Yeah, I'm OK with that."

The following year, the Americana Music Association recognized The Mavericks with the Trailblazer Award. In 2024, the band released its last studio album, Moon & Stars. The release coincided with news of Malo's cancer diagnosis, which he discussed openly with NPR's Ayesha Rascoe.

Before being hospitalized last week, Malo had been scheduled to perform with The Mavericks at a pair of tribute concerts held this past weekend at the legendary Ryman Auditorium in Nashville. Over 30 artists, including Patty Griffin, Jim Lauderdale and Steve Earle, still gathered to pay tribute to Malo, with some of the proceeds of the night going to the cancer prevention organization Stand Up To Cancer.

According to his spokesperson, though Malo was too ill to attend, the concert was streamed to his hospital room Friday night.

Copyright 2025 NPR

The Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department has mostly blocked efforts to investigate misconduct within its ranks, according to the county inspector general, who announced his retirement Tuesday after 12 years on the job.

In an open letter, Max Huntsman cited examples of how the county has thwarted his efforts to watchdog the department, which in the past has been plagued with accusations that deputies use excessive force and lie on the job.

Huntsman said one example is former Sheriff Alex Villanueva’s misuse of criminal enforcement powers to discredit critics, such as opening an investigation into former County Supervisor Sheila Kuehl.

Villanueva was sheriff from 2018 to 2022.

“My requests for investigation were rejected,” Huntsman’s letter reads. “Even after receiving an official subpoena, the Sheriff’s Department has failed to turn over records regarding the improper surveillance.”

He added: “Sometimes members of the public wonder if frightening new surveillance techniques will be used for improper purposes under the guise of criminal investigation. Sadly, the answer is yes.”

Before becoming inspector general in 2013, Huntsman, 60, was a deputy district attorney who specialized in public corruption. He told LAist on Tuesday that the inspector general job wasn’t something he wanted initially.

“I didn’t want to go work for politicians,” he said. “But the need to provide some kind of independent reporting and analysis was significant.”

The Sheriff’s Department issued a statement saying it valued the Office of the Inspector General and all county oversight bodies and that it wished Huntsman and his family well in his retirement.

The department said it “continues to make great strides in advancing the department in a transparent manner.”

LAist also reached out to the county CEO and county counsel for comment, but they declined.

After George Floyd

In the letter, Huntsman says the state of California has come a long way in strengthening the power of local law enforcement oversight bodies, in part because of the 2020 murder of George Floyd by police in Minneapolis.

After widespread protests — and lobbying by Huntsman — the state provided authority to inspectors general to enforce subpoenas requiring law enforcement agencies to hand over documents and authorized external investigation of police misconduct, including deputy gang conduct.

The Sheriff’s Department — backed by county lawyers — has resisted.

“Los Angeles County may not follow those laws, but it will not be able to avoid them forever,” Huntsman wrote. “The county refuses to require the photographing of suspected gang tattoos in secretive groups that the undersheriff has identified as violating state law.”

“Just a few weeks ago, we requested some information regarding an investigation, and a pair of commanders refused to give it to us,” Huntsman said in an interview with LAist.

Origin of the office 

The Inspector General’s Office was created by the county Board of Supervisors in 2013 in response to a scandal that included former Sheriff Lee Baca covering up the abuses of jail inmates.

Baca went to federal prison.

Since then, the office has issued dozens of reports with recommendations for improving living conditions inside jails that some have described as “filthy,” stopping abuses of juveniles inside juvenile halls and providing shower privacy for inmates as part of the requirements under the Prison Rape Elimination Act.

“All of these abuses were reported by the Office of Inspector General and recommendations were ignored,” Huntsman wrote. Often, it took court orders to enact change.

“When we first blew the whistle on the torturous chaining of mentally ill prisoners to benches for 36 hours at a time, it was only a court order that ended the practice,” he wrote. “Time and time again, this pattern repeated itself.”

Huntsman wrote the county has permitted the Sheriff’s Department to block oversight and defunded the Office of Inspector General by removing a third of its staff.

“It's not surprising the county has driven out two successive chairs of the Sheriff Civilian Oversight Commission,” he wrote.

“Government always claims to value transparency and accountability, but shooting the messenger is still the most common response to criticism,” Huntsman wrote.

Despite setbacks, Huntsman values work 

Huntsman told LAist on Tuesday that he was proud of his career as a public servant.

“I’ve really enjoyed the work and I’m sad to have it end,” he said.

It’s a sentiment he echoed in his letter, adding that despite the setbacks and roadblocks, he was proud of the people with whom he shared the office.

“It has been my honor to work with a talented, brave and tireless group of public servants to ensure that the public knows what its government is doing,” he wrote.

He noted the inspector general’s reports are fact-checked by the office and public.

“When government abuses occur, they are sometimes kept secret, but that is no longer the case for much of what is happening in Los Angeles County,” Huntsman wrote. “What you do about it is up to you.,”

Huntsman’s last day is Friday.

Topline:

The backstory: Last month, the council's Transportation Committee voted to bring a proposal forward to implement a policy change that allows the city to impound and immediately destroy abandoned or inoperable RVs worth less than $4,000. The change is inspired by new state law AB 630, which was created to prevent previously impounded RVs from ending back up on the street.

The motion, authored by Councilmember Traci Park, reports that abandoned RVs pose as public and safety hazards.

What's next: Councilmember Nithya Raman requested that an implementation plan be presented to the council's public safety and housing and homelessness committees.

Go deeper: L.A. pushes policy to make it easier to remove RVs from city streets.