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The most important stories for you to know today
  • What it’s like to visit a Japanese Obon festival
    An Asian American woman with short white hair closes her eyes with her hands up in the air, holding red kachi kachi, or wooden castanets, with long red strings.
    Asako Tomita, 88, dances during the San Fernando Valley Obon Festival on June 29, 2024.
    We spent the weekend at an Obon festival, hosted by the San Fernando Valley Hongwanji Buddhist Temple. What follows is a visual and audio tour of the weekend, from the chopping veggies to dancing at sunset.

    The backstory: Obon is a joyous summer holiday dedicated to remembering and honoring ancestors. It’s a bit like the Japanese version of Día de Muertos, with a distinctly Japanese American twist. Festivals take place at temples and community centers from June to August and include carnival games, home-cooked food, and traditional Japanese dancing.

    Why the Obon is important: All of the work that temple and community members put into each Obon festival is something that you can feel right when you walk in. There’s a warmth to the food and the laughter of friends reuniting that surrounds you.

    Read on... for more on the immersive guide.

    Summer weekends at SoCal Japanese Buddhist temples fill with carnival games, Japanese food and dancing as people of all generations come together to celebrate Obon, a joyous holiday dedicated to remembering and honoring ancestors.

    Growing up Japanese American, attending an Obon festival evokes instant nostalgia — I remember being a kid eating peanut butter mochi and shaved ice during breaks between dancing. Learn more about Obon.

    What is Obon?

    • Obon — one of SoCal’s biggest Japanese American celebrations — is a joyous summer holiday dedicated to remembering and honoring ancestors. It’s a bit like the Japanese version of Día de Muertos, with a distinctly Japanese American twist.

    • Festivals take place at temples and community centers from June to August and include carnival games, home-cooked food, and traditional Japanese dancing.

    I attended an Obon festival in the San Fernando Valley, hosted over two days by the San Fernando Valley Hongwanji Buddhist Temple at the San Fernando Valley Japanese American Community Center next door. What follows is a visual and audio tour of the weekend, from the chopping veggies to dancing at sunset.

    Listen 4:11
    What it’s like to visit an Obon festival in SoCal, from spam musubi to dancing

    For audio listeners: I recorded part of the audio story using binaural sound, so grab a pair of headphones for the full experience.

    The setup starts at dawn

    Three Asian American women in hairnets, aprons, and plastic gloves smile at the camera. They stand before a long table filled with sliced oranges.
    Priscilla Mui, Doreen Kushida, and Judy Matsuzaki slice and bag oranges as garnishes for the chicken teriyaki.
    (
    Stefanie Ritoper
    /
    LAist
    )

    Preparations for the San Fernando Valley Obon Festival start early. For temple members organizing the festival, Obon is an all-day affair, where everyone pitches in.

    Some people arrive as early as 6 a.m. to start preparing food. Some won’t leave until clean up is done around 11 p.m.

    By 10 a.m., the room is buzzing with people helping out with food prep. Long tables fill a room where people chop onions and lettuce for soups and salads and slice oranges for teriyaki beef plates. San Fernando Valley Hongwanji Buddhist Temple president Linnae McKeever weaves between the assembly lines offering instruction, answering questions, and directing volunteers to their stations.

    “We're all atoms in motion,” says McKeever. “We have to do food prep for thousands of people that are coming in.”

    An Asian American woman wearing a baseball cap holds a large tupperware full of ginger. She leans over to place some on top of one of the plates of rice lined up on the table.
    Kari Nishimura is part of a large assembly line to prepare boxes of chirashi.
    (
    Stefanie Ritoper
    /
    LAist
    )

    In another room, Kari Nishimura adds bright pink ginger to boxes of chirashi.

    “Honestly, I grew up here,” says Nishimura. “My grandparents and my great grandparents were actually the people who built our temple.”

    She notes that Obon is often a reunion, where she runs into friends she has known since middle or high school. She also now sees the younger generation of her nieces and nephews enjoying the same traditions she did growing up.

    You can't help but feel nostalgic and just be in a good mood.
    — Kari Nishimura, temple member

    At another table, a spam musubi assembly line is in full swing. Four temple members press rice and spam into large rectangular molds. They cut each rectangle diagonally so that when it’s arranged in the container, it looks like a heart. “So that when people get it, they can see it was made with love!” says Nishimura.

    “We are so busy with our own Obon that we can't dance at ours, usually,” jokes Priscilla Mui, who is slicing and bagging oranges. “So we go to all the other ones so that we can dance.”

    Obon festivals in Southern California are staggered on different weekends throughout the summer to allow people to attend multiple festivals a year. Mui says she usually tries to go to a handful of festivals each year. One year she went to six or seven.

    All of the work that temple and community members put into each Obon festival is something you can feel right when you walk in. There’s a warmth to the food and the laughter of friends reuniting that surrounds you.

    “You don't have to be a Buddhist, you don't have to be Japanese, to come out to an Obon festival and enjoy it,” says Jason Fenton, San Fernando Valley Hongwanji Buddhist temple first vice president. “Our community is made up of so many diverse religions and cultures. And building friendships and understanding is the key to what makes a community thrive.

    So much food! Teriyaki beef, udon, Okinawan andagi, and more

    In the late afternoon, the festivities begin. People slowly start to trickle in and set up camping chairs to save their spot close to the dancing circle, drawn with chalk around the perimeter of the festival. It’s the middle of summer in the San Fernando Valley and the heat is just starting to fade into that thick warmth of early evening.

    When you enter, the first thing that hits you is the smell of teriyaki beef. It’s the hottest spot in the festival, with San Fernando Athletics parents at the grill and students serving up platters.

    A woman with white plastic gloves uses chopsticks to add seaweed to a bowl of udon.
    Udon is garnished for customers during the San Fernando Valley Obon Festival.
    (
    Julie Leopo
    /
    LAist
    )

    There are home-cooked foods everywhere. Many of the foods you see at Obon festivals are Japanese American fare, like spam musubi, Okinawan sata andagi , and chili rice.

    SFV-OBON-FESTIVAL
    Japanese cold noodles, Somen, was just one of the many Japanese dishes sold at the San Fernando Valley Obon Festival on June 29, 2024.
    (
    Julie Leopo
    /
    LAist
    )

    For the kids: Games, activities, and tradition

    For families, one highlight of the festival is the games. Various temple and community center groups run the booths, which line the perimeter of the festival. Kids walk up to try their hand at winning prizes by tossing ping pong balls into glass balls, fishing for colorful wooden fish, and throwing metal rings around coins on a table. Many groups have been running these games at the festival for years, passing on the know-how to the next generation of families each year.

    A Japanese American woman with hair pulled back stands next to her daughter, with long brown hair and glasses. She tosses a ping pong ball toward a stand of glass bowls. -
    Yurika Yamaguchi and her daughter, Kaori Lopez, play fish bowl pitch.
    (
    Stefanie Ritoper
    /
    LAist
    )

    For many Japanese Americans of my generation, Obon festivals are a chance for fun memories and also, a little bit of tradition.

    “We've been coming here since my oldest daughter was four. That's how we actually started having them come to the Japanese school here,” says parent Yurika Yamaguchi, adding that as an educator, she knows it’s important for her kids to know their culture.

    Three girls with fishing poles lean over a large tub with floating wooden red and yellow fish.
    Children fish for prizes at the festival.
    (
    Julie Leopo
    /
    LAist
    )

    “Our kids are fifth generation. Over time, obviously, you lose tradition and culture,” says parent Justin Yoshizawa, who is working the teriyaki and shumai booth this year at the festival. “This is one of those events every year that we do consistently that helps remind them of their culture.”

    This is one of those events every year that helps remind [our kids] of their culture
    — Justin Yoshizawa, Parent

    One place to escape the heat is in the bingo room at the San Fernando Valley Japanese American Community Center. The hall is packed with tables, where people try their luck at bingo while they eat their food.

    A young, medium-skin toned man wearing a green shirt and glasses triumphantly holds up a Bingo card, with his tongue sticking out. Others next to him, also in green shirts, smile as they look at him.
    Dominque Torres, 24, jumps up as he wins a round of bingo.
    (
    Julie Leopo
    /
    LAist
    )

    The perimeter of the hall is lined with crafts and secondhand Japanese tableware and artwork for sale.

    SFV-OBON-FESTIVAL
    Ruby Yamaoka, 87, from San Fernando Valley, performed ukulele at the festival.
    (
    Julie Leopo
    /
    LAist
    )

    The festival also showcases performances from groups at the San Fernando Valley Japanese American Community Center, like ukulele and taiko drumming. Many friends and family cheer on performers from camping chairs they’ve brought from home.

    Dancing to honor loved ones passed

    An Asian American woman with short hair and a dark blue yukata moves forward with her hands outstretched above her. behind her, a line of people make the same movements.
    Each Bon Odori song tells a story in a series of simple movements. All join in, regardless of experience.
    (
    Julie Leopo
    /
    LAist
    )

    As the sun begins to set, the main event begins: Bon Odori, or traditional Japanese folk dancing, with the whole crowd participating.

    “I want to begin to invite people to come to the circle,” says MC and temple member Traci Ishigo. “Are you ready to dance?”

    She reminds the crowd that no experience is necessary and that most folks are also just remembering the moves like they are.

    A view from inside the yagura, a platform raised above the crowd. An Asian American man with a baseball cap plays a taiko drum as a crowd of people dance below.
    Taiko drummers atop the yagura keep time to traditional Japanese music for Bon Odori dancing.
    (
    Julie Leopo
    /
    LAist
    )

    Festival-goers, young and old, in yukata and happi coats, form a huge circle around the yagura, a central, elevated platform decorated with paper lanterns.

    As the folk music blasts from the speakers, taiko drummers keep a steady rhythm. Don. Kara-kara. Don. Kara-kara. Don. And the crowd of strangers, most watching the instructors and their neighbors for cues, slowly begins to move in step, at first unsure, then slowly with more confidence.

    An Asian American woman wearing a teal yukata with her hair up and sunglasses, spreads out her arms. Behind her, a line of people copy her movements.
    Chuko Akune, a dance instructor, leads the Obon dancing during the community festival.
    (
    Julie Leopo
    /
    LAist
    )

    It’s hard to explain the feeling of dancing in unison with a large group of joyful strangers. Each dance tells a story in a handful of simple, repetitive movements: Fishermen casting nets into the sea, coal miners pushing carts, hands to forehead to wipe away sweat. It’s like honoring something ancient and bringing it into the present.

    An Asian American woman wearing a minister's robe speaks into a mic with a large smile on her face.
    Reverend Yukari Torii opens the dancing with a welcome and some words about the significance of Obon.
    (
    Julie Leopo
    /
    LAist
    )

    “Obon is a time to remember your ancestors and thank them for the life you have now,” says Reverend Yukari Torii. She says that in Japan, celebrating Obon is much more akin to Thanksgiving, where people travel home to spend time with family members.

    In the U.S., as immigrants could not return to their hometowns, they instead took the opportunity to gather at Buddhist temples (or churches, as they’re often called here), which became hubs for Japanese American culture and community.

    Go deeper: The history of Obon in the U.S.

    • Credit often goes to Reverend Yoshio Iwanaga for introducing Bon Odori on the mainland in 1930. As a music instructor, he infused into the celebrations music and dances from all over Japan, which are now central to Japanese American Obon celebrations.

    • During World War II, when the U.S. government incarcerated Japanese Americans, Obon celebrations didn’t stop. People celebrated in camp. Emily Anderson, historian and curator at the Japanese American National Museum, says: “There's something really powerful to me that despite all the circumstances, they still celebrated.”

    Joanne Tokeshi is the lead Obon dance instructor for the temple and she coordinated this year’s dances. Though every year the Buddhist Churches of America Southern District selects a short list of songs that become the standard dances at all of the festivals, each temple adds their own favorites. She always adds one pop song into the mix. This year dancers apply the moves from the traditional dance Itsu Tatsu Ichi to Dua Lipa’s Dance the Night.

    Tokeshi has a background in Japanese Odori, which made her a natural fit to take the lead on her temple’s Bon Odori lineup. She has memories of three generations of her family dancing Bon Odori — her mom, her, and her daughter.

    “I did lose my mom a couple of years ago,” says Tokeshi. “So, Obon became even more special for me to remember her — and celebrate with joy.”

    I did lose my mom a couple of years ago. So, Obon became even more special for me to remember her — and celebrate with joy.
    — Joanne Tokeshi, Lead Obon Dance Instructor

    Jason Fenton says that some of his most joyful memories have been watching his children grow up and dance Bon Odori. One song, Gassho Ondo, features a moment where dancers bow to each other in thanks.

    “And at that point in the song, my daughter turned to my wife and they bowed to each other. To me, that was beautiful,” he said.

    An Asian American man in bright green shirt and black baseball cap plays guitar in front of a mic. Behind him are lines of people dancing.
    Yoshikuno Torii, husband of San Fernando Valley Hongwanji Buddhist Temple’s minister, Reverend Yukari Torii, performs two classic Obon songs at the festival.
    (
    Stefanie Ritoper
    /
    LAist
    )

    Magic hour at the festival

    SFV-OBON-FESTIVAL
    Families, community members, and Obon dance instructors form a circle in dance during the San Fernando Valley Obon Festival on June 29, 2024.
    (
    Julie Leopo
    /
    LAist
    )

    After the sun goes down, the dancing continues. The festival takes on a more relaxed and comfortable energy. People go back for seconds of their favorite food or look for dessert. Lights illuminate the booths of food and games, with the steady drumming of taiko to music in the background.

    People surround a booth with a game filled with colorful cups. String lights make it glow in the evening.
    People place dollar bills on the colors where they think the basketball will land at the dough ball game booth, run by the Japanese American Citizens League.
    (
    Stefanie Ritoper
    /
    LAist
    )

    Inside the hall, blackout Bingo is in full swing, and things are picking up. At a desk on the stage, temple president Linnae McKeever counts the cash coming in from Bingo tickets. Bingo host Jean-Paul deGuzman makes a pitch to the audience to buy tickets for last call for Bingo tickets and a flurry of hands go up in the crowd. It’s like the attendees don’t want the night to end.

    Stage curtains frame the back of a man wearing a green shirt talking into a mic to a packed room of people seated at long rectangular tables.
    Jean-Paul deGuzman eggs on the crowd to buy more Bingo tickets in the last round of the evening at the closing of the festival on June 30, 2024.
    (
    Stefanie Ritoper
    /
    LAist
    )

    My two kids don’t want the night to end either. They wander around looking for one last game to play, one last sweet treat to eat. It’s these little moments that I hope they’ll remember as they grow.

    Two kids in yukata bounce small, colorful balloons on rubberbands. it's nighttime and the image glows with lights from string lights and is slightly blurry.
    Children take home bouncing balloons and other goodies at the end of the night.
    (
    Stefanie Ritoper
    /
    LAist
    )

    This year marks the San Fernando Valley Hongwanji Buddhist Temple's 103rd anniversary. Many of the Japanese American Buddhist temples boast similarly long histories. McKeever hopes that this community, and celebrations like Obon, continue to carry on into the future. “I'm hoping that [the next generation] will pick up where we left off and they'll carry on that strong tradition,” she says.

    A structure with a pitched tower and Buddhist crest stands in the middle of a dancing crowd. It glows in the evening light.
    The yagura, illuminated by lanterns, at the end of the night at the San Fernando Valley Obon.
    (
    Julie Leopo
    /
    LAist
    )

    Diane Hope provided coaching and feedback on the audio story.

  • Dodgers' superstar wins on unanimous vote
    Shohei Ohtani, a Japanese man with a medium light skin tone, speaks into a microphone. He's wearing a backwards baseball cap. In the background is his teammates, while the Word Series trophy is in the foreground.
    Shohei Ohtani thanks fans during the Dodgers World Series rally.

    Topline:

    Dodgers superstar Shohei Ohtani is this year's National League Most Valuable Player.

    A growing legacy: It's his fourth MVP award and the vote was unanimous. The only other player to win four MVPs is baseball legend Barry Bonds.

    What he had to say: Ohtani said the World Series win remained top-of-mind for him. Of the MVP honor, MLB.com reported Ohtani said (through an interpreter): "You know, it's icing on the cake just to be able to get an individual award, being crowned MVP, but I just really appreciate the support from all my teammates, everybody around me, my supporting staff.”

    Who else was in the running: Ohtani's teammates Freddie Freeman and Will Smith also made the list of finalists. who also made the list of finalists this year. The Phillies' Kyle Schwarber was the runner-up and the Mets' Juan Soto was third.

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  • Republicans visit Palisades; residents testify
    two men in suits
    Rick Scott, senator from Florida, left, and Ron Johnson, senator from Wisconsin, during a congressional hearing on the Palisades Fire in Pacific Palisades.

    Topline:

    Two Republican senators traveled to the Pacific Palisades on Thursday to hear from residents affected by the January fire, some of whom advocated for more federal intervention.

    The backstory: Florida's Rick Scott and Wisconsin's Ron Johnson say they launched an investigative subcommittee to uncover what went wrong from the community's perspective. The senators have requested records from the L.A. City Council president's office concerning the recent wildfires, as well as documents referencing DEI from the Fire Department and Department of Water and Power. L.A. City Councilmember Hugo Soto-Martinez referred to the Senate investigation as a "witch hunt."

    Local reaction: "We've been forced to lead our own recovery because the city won't," Jessica Rogers, president of Pacific Palisades Resident Association, said at the hearing. "Based on my experience with local government on the day of the fire and since the fire, we need federal intervention."

    Go deeper: An LAist analysis of FEMA data from this summer found that the amount of federal aid for the L.A. fires in January has lagged behind other disasters.

  • Republicans argue Latino voters unfairly favored.
    California Gov. Gavin Newsom, a man with light skin tone wearing a dark blue suit, speaks behind a podium with a crowd of people standing behind him holding signs.
    California Gov. Gavin Newsom speaks about California redistricting plans at a press conference at the Democracy Center, Japanese American Museum, on Aug. 14 in Los Angeles.

    Topline:

    The Department of Justice on Thursday joined a lawsuit to block new congressional district lines approved by California voters last week through Proposition 50.

    What Republicans are saying: The lawsuit against the Proposition 50 map argues the new lines were designed to maximize the voting power of Latino residents, thereby violating the equal protection and voting rights of non-Latino voters. The DOJ argues that it is not necessary to draw districts where a majority of voters are Latino because white California voters often prefer candidates of various races and ethnicities.

    What Democrats are saying: While the lawsuit quotes supporters of Proposition 50 touting the Latino-majority districts, Newsom and Democratic leaders in the state Legislature argued throughout the campaign that the purpose of the maps was explicitly partisan: to help Democrats retake the House. That could help the state thwart a challenge under the 14th Amendment’s Equal Protection Clause.

    Read on ... for more on the continued fight over Prop 50.

    The Department of Justice on Thursday joined a lawsuit to block new congressional district lines approved by California voters last week through Proposition 50 .

    Gov. Gavin Newsom championed the congressional maps as an attempt to help Democrats win more seats in the House of Representatives, countering Republican-led gerrymandering in states such as Texas. But California Republicans argued in a suit filed last week that the maps unfairly advantage Latino voters over other Californians.

    The Trump administration joined that lawsuit, asking a judge in the Central District of California to block the new map from taking effect for the 2026 midterm elections.

    “California Democrats are openly gerrymandering by race in this case,” Attorney General Pam Bondi wrote on social media platform X. “That’s immoral and illegal.”

    Proposition 50 was overwhelmingly approved last week, winning support from 64% of voters. The measure sets aside political lines drawn by an independent citizens commission and enacts a map that could help Democrats flip up to five seats currently held by Republicans — and protect a handful of incumbent Democrats from competitive challenges.

    The measure’s passage was a political win for Newsom and Democrats in the midst of a nationwide fight over political maps. New district lines in Texas, Missouri and North Carolina could net Republicans a handful of additional seats, while states including Virginia, Indiana and Florida are considering their redistricting plans.

    The lawsuit against the Proposition 50 map argues the new lines were designed to maximize the voting power of Latino residents, thereby violating the equal protection and voting rights of non-Latino voters. The DOJ argues that it is not necessary to draw districts where a majority of voters are Latino because white California voters often prefer candidates of various races and ethnicities.

    “Recent elections show that Hispanics have not struggled to elect politicians of their choice in California,” the complaint said. “That is because results in California are largely driven by party-bloc voting, not race-bloc voting.”

    An analysis by the Public Policy Institute of California found that the Proposition 50 map has the same number of majority-Latino districts (16) as the maps enacted by the independent commission in 2021, which have been used in the last two congressional elections.

    While the lawsuit quotes supporters of Proposition 50 touting the Latino-majority districts, Newsom and Democratic leaders in the state Legislature argued throughout the campaign that the purpose of the maps was explicitly partisan: to help Democrats retake the House. That could help the state thwart a challenge under the 14th Amendment’s Equal Protection Clause.

    “These losers lost at the ballot box and soon they will also lose in court,” said Brandon Richards, a spokesman for Newsom, in a statement.

    The passage of Proposition 50 has scrambled the electoral playing field ahead of California’s June primary. Sonoma State University professor David McCuan said the measure could face more legal challenges from Republicans facing political headwinds.

    “You could see half a dozen to a dozen [lawsuits] … challenging both the process of how Prop. 50 got to the ballot and the constitutional legal questions related to Proposition 50 itself,” he said.

  • Questions about funding for LA unhoused campground
    Square platforms lined up in an empty parking lot
    LAHSA Commissioner Justin Szlasa snapped a photo of the unused part of the site when he visited Lincoln Safe Sleep Village in May 2025.

    Topline:

    L.A. officials paid $2.3 million to a nonprofit to serve up to 88 unhoused people at a "safe sleep site" in South L.A. But the site’s capacity had been cut to just half that many people, according to an LAist review of records and a statement from the nonprofit.

    A federal judge this week described the situation as “obvious fraud.”

    The site: The Lincoln Safe Sleep Village opened in 2022 and is one of only a handful similar encampments around the state. It's a parking lot lined with plywood platforms where unhoused people can set up tents, and they have access to meals, bathrooms and other services — all at taxpayers’ expense.

    The problem: Urban Alchemy was paid to provide space for up to 88 residents last fiscal year. But two observers who made separate visits to the location earlier this year found the site was operating at half capacity. The nonprofit that runs the site, San Francisco-based Urban Alchemy, told LAist it reduced the site’s capacity by half in April 2024, at the request of L.A. city officials and LAHSA. But LAHSA did not update its funding formula for the site until more than a year later. LAHSA records show Urban Alchemy was paid in full.

    Why it matters: The situation has emerged at a time when LAHSA is under intense scrutiny for failing to properly manage hundreds of millions of dollars in contracts with service providers, and the city of L.A. remains under a court order to provide more shelter for the city’s unhoused residents.

    Judge's scrutiny: During a federal court hearing this week, U.S. District Court Judge David O. Carter described the situation at the Lincoln Safe Sleep Village as "obvious fraud," according to transcripts. The hearing was the latest in a series of court appearances stemming from a settlement between the city of L.A. and a group of downtown business and property owners known as the L.A. Alliance for Human Rights. The agreement requires the city to open nearly 13,000 new shelter beds by next year.

    There’s a parking lot in the city of Los Angeles lined with plywood platforms where unhoused people can set up tents and access meals, bathrooms and other services — all at taxpayers’ expense.

    The Lincoln Safe Sleep Village in South L.A. opened in 2022 and is one of only a handful of similar encampments around the state. Public records show it was contracted to provide space for up to 88 residents last fiscal year.

    But two observers who made separate visits to the location during that time — one of them a commissioner with the governing body that oversees the Los Angeles Homeless Services Authority, the other a “special master” appointed by a federal judge — found the site was operating at half capacity.

    Still, LAHSA paid a nonprofit organization $2.3 million to operate the site — with 88 spots.

    A federal judge this week described the situation as “obvious fraud.”

    The nonprofit that runs the site, San Francisco-based Urban Alchemy, told LAist it reduced the site’s capacity by half in April 2024 at the request of L.A. city officials and LAHSA. The homeless services agency did not update its funding formula for the site until more than a year later.

    LAHSA records show Urban Alchemy was paid in full.

    The situation has emerged at a time when LAHSA is under intense scrutiny for failing to properly manage hundreds of millions of dollars in contracts with service providers, and the city of L.A. remains under a court order to provide more shelter for the city’s unhoused residents.

    Federal court scrutiny

    During a sometimes tense federal court hearing Wednesday, U.S. District Court Judge David O. Carter described the situation at the Lincoln Safe Sleep Village as "obvious fraud." The hearing was the latest in a series of court appearances stemming from a settlement between the city of L.A. and a group of downtown business and property owners known as the L.A. Alliance for Human Rights.

    The judge has been overseeing the settlement, specifically the city’s progress in meeting obligations to provide housing and shelter for unhoused people. The agreement requires the city to open nearly 13,000 new shelter beds by next year.

    According to testimony on Wednesday, Michele Martinez — the special master Carter appointed to help enforce the terms of the settlement — visited the Safe Sleep Village on June 9. She tried to verify the number of beds available at the site with city officials, but did not get an answer, Carter said.

    Three weeks later, the city responded by questioning whether Martinez’s inquiry was proper.

    In a June 30 email, L.A. Deputy City Attorney Jessica Mariani argued that Martinez had “no authority or basis to review or provide any assessments.” However, the Mariani added, the city was still looking into Martinez’ questions about the safe sleep site.

    Carter questioned Mariani during the hearing, noting that the city (through LAHSA) continued to pay full amounts for more than 80 spots at the site and tell the court those spots existed, even though at least half appeared to not be available at the time.

    "Is the City's position when the Special Master notes obvious fraud and that the documents don't match, that you are bringing forth to this Court that Ms. Martinez should disregard that and not report this to the Court when you try to curtail her monitoring activities?” the judge said, according to a transcript of the proceedings .

    Carter described the city’s actions as potentially “contemptuous.”

    LAist reached out to Mariani and the City Attorney’s Office, but has not yet received a response.

    Weeks before the special master’s visit to the site, LAHSA Commissioner Justin Szlasa stopped by the South L.A. campground. The 10-member LAHSA Commission makes policy and funding decisions for the regional homelessness agency.

    Szlasa said later that he noticed during his visit that half of the campground was closed down. He said budget documents sent to him for approval described the site as a “low-cost, high-impact” program serving 88 people.

    “We at LAHSA must ensure that we receive what we are contracting for,” Szlasa wrote in a social media post describing his findings.

    He filed a public records request with LAHSA to obtain the contracts and payment details for the Urban Alchemy campground.

    “I want to understand, first and foremost, why this was misrepresented to the Commission,” Szlasa said. “Then I want to understand if Urban Alchemy was actually in compliance with the contracts.”

    He continued: “I am concerned this Safe Sleep program — which I happened to arbitrarily spot-check — is not an outlier.”

    Urban Alchemy
    A drone's view of the South LA site prior to one section closing down in 2024.
    (
    Jay L. Clendenin
    /
    Los Angeles Times via Getty Images
    )

    LAHSA response

    LAist reached out to LAHSA for more information about its contract with Urban Alchemy and about the number of people who lived at the Lincoln Safe Sleep Village during the last fiscal year.

    LAHSA authorities said the site had a 41% average “utilization rate” during the budget year that ended in June, based on capacity information Urban Alchemy provided in a database called the Homeless Management Information System.

    But the agency’s calculations appear to have been based on outdated capacity data, not on how many spaces were actually available for use.

    LAHSA said it was Urban Alchemy’s responsibility to update the information in the database.

    "All providers are required to record their data in [the database]; if the data is inaccurate, it would be based on that data entry,” a LAHSA spokesperson said.

    LAHSA did not respond to LAist’s questions about when it learned capacity at the site had been reduced. An agency spokesperson said LAHSA has been “engaged with” Urban Alchemy about the site since April 2024, and that the program has been “under review.”

    In April, when the city of L.A. submitted its quarterly bed report to Carter, it described the South L.A. campground program as having 88 beds.

    But approximately half of those beds had been unavailable for about a year, according to Urban Alchemy.

    The city adjusted the count to 46 spots in its July 2025 update.

    LAHSA’s troubles 

    LAHSA manages more than $742 million in contracts with 121 service providers.

    Over the past year, audits and reports found the agency had mismanaged hundreds of millions in contracts for homeless services, including a failure to collect accurate data on nonprofit vendors or properly track how they spent taxpayer dollars.

    The South L.A. campground is the only “safe sleep” site of its kind currently in LAHSA’s portfolio, the agency told LAist. LAHSA also administers funding for about a dozen “safe parking” sites, where unhoused people can legally park and live out of vehicles they own.

    LAHSA has paid Urban Alchemy more than $12 million to operate the Lincoln Safe Sleep Village since 2021, according to the agency’s records.

    The nonprofit told LAist has operated under the terms of its contract, and that it followed direction from the city to close down part of the site, reducing its capacity.

    The city of L.A. has not responded to questions from LAist about that claim, including whether it gave the nonprofit that direction.

    "We're focused on providing the highest-level of service for our guests,” Urban Alchemy spokesperson Jess Montejano told LAist. “Given the resources provided, we're helping as many guests as we can have a safe place to sleep and get better connected to services and support."

    Urban Alchemy did not clarify why it was told to close part of the campground, but property records show a South L.A. nonprofit called the Coalition for Responsible Community Development purchased the property in 2020.

    It has plans to convert the property into a 60-unit affordable housing complex. Until that project is ready to start construction, the site is expected to keep operating as a safe sleeping location, according to the office of L.A. City Councilmember Curren Price, who represents the area.

    “When the site first opened, beds were consistently full,” Angelina Valencia-Dumarot, Price’s communications director, told LAist Thursday. “That’s why the current occupancy rate is especially concerning.”

    She said council offices are too often left out of updates by LAHSA.

    “We can’t address problems quickly if we’re finding out only after numbers fall or from the press,” Valencia-Dumarot said.

    Urban Alchemy
    A sign at the South LA campground
    (
    Jay L. Clendenin
    /
    Los Angeles Times via Getty Images
    )

    What should this cost? 

    At full capacity, the monthly operating cost for the South L.A. campground would have been about $2,180 per participant.

    Shayla Myers, a senior attorney with the Legal Aid Foundation of Los Angeles, said these campground sites are expensive to operate.

    “They are the kinds of programs that shock the conscience of taxpayers,” Myers said, adding that they cost much more than paying rent, while keeping people unsheltered.

    LAHSA staff say per-person costs for homeless programs differ based on location, hours and staffing needs.

    Examples include:

    • The region’s safe parking sites, which receive about $1,200 per participant per month to provide a set of similar resources to vehicle dwellers, according to LAHSA contract documents. 
    • LAHSA programs that provide temporary rental assistance to families and cost about $2,000 per household per month, officials said. 
    • The city of L.A.’s Inside Safe program, which moves people from encampments to hotel rooms. It costs about $6,900 per person served each month, according to a recent report by the city’s chief administrative officer.

    Urban Alchemy has operated temporary campgrounds for unhoused people in the city and county of L.A. since 2021, including one in Virgil Village that has since closed and another in Culver City that is still operating.

    In 2021, L.A.’s city administrative officer reported the Virgil Village campground cost more than $2,600 per participant per month.

    Culver City opened its campground in 2023, so that the city could legally enforce a ban on camping in public approved that February. The city spent nearly $4.6 million on the campground in 2025, according to budget documents .

    The Culver City site has space for 40 people, and the city says the occupancy rate is around 85% this year . That’s a cost of more than $11,000 per person served each month.

    Myers said interventions like this will always cost more than moving people into homes.

    “It doesn’t matter whether you're paying for a hotel room, a shelter, or in this case, lines drawn on a parking lot,”said Myers. “Continuing to provide shelter to folks who are unhoused — rather than providing permanent housing — is always going to be exponentially more expensive.”

    After the city finalized its budget in June, LAHSA allocated $1.2 million — instead of $2.3 million — to Urban Alchemy for the South L.A. campground for the current budget year.

    LAHSA now lists the site’s capacity as 46 tent spaces, authorities said. The agency said the site now has a “utilization” rate of 70%, compared to 41% the previous fiscal year.

    That’s at a cost of about $3,100 per participant per month.

    Nick Gerda and Makenna Sievertson contributed to this story.