The Brief

Five miles southeast of Downtown Los Angeles lies a unique, bustling little city, self-described as “exclusively industrial.” It faced accusations of political and ecological corruption so serious that a dozen years ago the State Legislature came within a hair’s breadth of abolishing it.

The city of Vernon survived that near-death experience, which would have seen it dissolved as an independent city and remade as an unincorporated area of L.A. County. Vernon’s survival was thanks to a huge lobbying campaign by its city government — as well as business interests anxious to preserve it as a sanctuary that offered firms substantial savings to locate there. Some labor unions joined the campaign, fearful that businesses might leave a disincorporated Vernon and take with them tens of thousands of jobs for blue collar commuters that included some union members.

Ultimately, these pro-Vernon forces cut a deal with a key legislator who persuaded colleagues to let the city survive in return for its promise to reform its governance and double the size of its extremely small residential population.

The 5-square-mile city made good on those promises, but remains dogged by environmental woes:

• The South Coast Air Quality Management District estimates that Vernon’s cancer-risk rate is 40% higher than Southern California’s generally.
• Nearly 600 of approximately 1,800 businesses, located throughout the city, handle or store hazardous chemicals, mostly at high volumes, according to a city report. Records show that nearly 40 of these businesses handle high volumes of extremely toxic chemicals regulated by the state, such as ammonia and chlorine gas, whose accidental release could impact large areas.
• Long known as a transportation hub, the city is home to very high levels of truck and rail traffic. Much of the city is crisscrossed by 130 miles of railroad tracks and much of that has been contaminated by herbicides and spilled chemicals. Vernon is also laced with underground pipelines, many of which carry potentially explosive materials, according to a city report.
• Three facilities have been identified as hazardous materials release sites by the California Department of Toxic Substance Control, 25 sites have been found to have had leaking underground storage tanks. A city map shows dozens of other locations with real or suspected soil contamination issues.

As the city put it in a report to the state last year, “serious environmental conditions [including] hazardous materials storage and processing, background contamination, noxious odors, noise pollution, and truck and railroad traffic generated by the City’s pervasive industrial land uses.…. render the majority of sites throughout Vernon unsuitable for residential development.”

Soil contamination risks in Vernon, included the large contamination zone left by the Exide lead battery plant.

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Courtesy City of Vernon

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Geotracker, Envirostor, Department of Toxic Substances Control, City of Vernon

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“Some people might say it’s still the same city,” said Fred MacFarlane, a media consultant who worked as the city’s spokesperson for five years during and after the disincorporation fight. MacFarlane was in this role as government reforms were being conceived and implemented.

“It is and it isn’t … The city is in much better shape from a governance standpoint.”

Former Assembly Speaker John Pérez, who led the attempt to disincorporate Vernon and is now on the board of regents for the University of California, acknowledged “positive steps” but added: “I don’t think anybody can look at this and say things have fundamentally changed.”

What has changed

Vernon is a mainly industrial area near Downtown Los Angeles and Boyle Heights.

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Since it headed off the effort led by Pérez, Vernon increased its decennial Census count from 112 residents to 222 with a new affordable housing project that opened in 2015. This added 45 new apartments to an existing total citywide housing stock of only 31 dwellings.

This summer, in a major break with tradition, the city council opened the door for developers to further expand the number of dwellings in the city dramatically — from 76 to more than 900 — by building along the city’s western edge, the area farthest removed from the heaviest industry.

Before the affordable housing project opened, Vernon’s electorate consisted mainly of city employees who were given heavily discounted rents for city-owned housing, according to court, legislative and city records. Since this was virtually the only housing in town, those in power were in a rare position to select nearly all the voters who could keep them in power and there was an expectation that those voters would do just that.

The way city officials operated had one Superior Court judge comparing Vernon to a fiefdom. The city effectively had a permanent local government with a mayor who served for decades while living most of the time in a mansion out of town. He and his wife were convicted of voter fraud and perjury for falsely claiming to live in Vernon.

Another top administrator lived in a wealthy enclave near San Francisco, flying first class to Southern California while earning $1.65 million in salary and consulting fees in a single year. Still another longtime administrator who was being paid as much as $900,000 per year pleaded guilty to misusing other public money for expenses that prosecutors said included golf outings and massages.

These extreme practices ended after the disincorporation fight. Term limits were imposed, administrators’ salaries that were once among the highest in the state were reduced to normalcy, and a lottery procedure was implemented to decide who got to move into city-owned housing when vacancies occurred.

For the first time, those holding elective office would not be able to choose their electors.

Over a decade later, city government, Vernon-style, remains unusual, dedicated to what its website calls “a public-private partnership” — meaning business plays an outsized role, with its own designated representatives serving on city commissions.

The leader of the business community says he is optimistic about the city’s ability to overcome its environmental problems. Steve Freed, a warehouse complex owner who holds the rotating chairmanship of the city’s Chamber of Commerce, said the city is “slowly and surely transitioning from heavy, heavy industry to businesses that are more environmentally friendly.”

He estimated that half of all businesses in the city now are involved with goods storage and distribution rather than manufacturing. He also said he believes the city’s polluted soils can be made safe: “I don’t know of a single site in Vernon that couldn’t be remediated.”

The outsized role of business

An aerial view of the since-shuttered Farmer John slaughterhouse and complex.

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Vernon became an industrial mecca by welcoming businesses, including those that were unwelcome elsewhere, and offering them speedy government services and discounted fees, taxes and utilities compared to what they would pay elsewhere in the state.

During the disincorporation fight, Vernon’s Chamber of Commerce quantified these discounts, asserting that Vernon businesses saved up to 2,000% on local fees and taxes and anywhere from 20% to 40% on electric bills by buying power from Vernon’s municipal utility instead of from Southern California Edison. The discounts continue, but no estimates of their current value were available.

Following the disincorporation battle, the chamber has continued to play a dominant role in city politics through the financing of city elections. Five years of campaign contribution records reviewed by LAist show that political committees sponsored by the chamber have been the only reported source of funding for city council campaigns. These committees provided financial support for the campaigns of each of the five current part-time city council members, one of whom colleagues designate as mayor. None of the candidates’ campaigns reported receiving donations from anyone else.

The city’s highest stakes race (a pivotal election)

The chamber was especially active in 2021, in the most highly contested council races since the disincorporation threat passed. Business leaders who said they feared a return of corruption that could spark another disincorporation attempt backed the recall of two council members who’d pushed for a solar and wind project on land owned by the municipal utility — a main revenue source for the city. That set off alarms because some of the backers of that project were embroiled in a corruption probe in the City of Industry. Four men still face felony charges in that case, according to the L.A. District Attorney's office, with a preliminary hearing set for latest this week for three of the defendants.

A chamber-sponsored political committee raised $78,000 for the successful recall campaign, in which the two council members denied any wrongdoing. Of those funds, $50,000 came from the national headquarters of a labor union, the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers. One of its local branches represents workers at the municipal utility.

The sums raised were extraordinary for a city with a total electorate of only 119. The council members were recalled and replaced by others whose candidacies received financial backing from the chamber.

The recall election appears to have invigorated efforts to expand further the city’s electorate by adding housing.

A larger residential population lies ahead

The city’s new expansion plan , approved by the city council at the beginning of August, envisions Vernon’s newest residents living in a pedestrian-friendly neighborhood of mixed residential, commercial and light industrial uses on the city’s far western boundary — the area farthest removed from its heaviest industries. Most buildings in the area now are small warehouses.

Plans call for new housing in Vernon.

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The city's report on expansion includes these preliminary concept drawings for residences on two privately owned lots.

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City planners say they hope the new neighborhood would eventually mesh with other neighborhoods developing in the Arts District of Los Angeles a few miles to the north.

The city is billing the residential expansion idea in part as a good government move — a way to produce a more robust electorate better able to resist the influence of any would-be corrupters. City planners observed in the report to the state that the current population “is still inadequate to ensure good governance and to avoid the threat of disincorporation, as manipulation of a small number of voters by an individual or entity could allow for a relatively easy takeover of control of the city.”

In approving the plan, the city council took pains to assure businesses that Vernon would not be straying from its primarily industrial nature. The council voted to require future renters or condominium buyers to sign acknowledgements that they are aware of the risks of living “in an industrial area in which annoyances or inconveniences associated with proximity to industrial uses such as odors, truck traffic, vibrations, noise and other neighborhood impacts are likely to be present.”

Given the housing shortage in greater L.A., history suggests this will not be much of an obstacle. When just one of Vernon’s city-owned apartments became available this summer, the city reported that more than 170 people signed up for the lottery.

Despite the city’s moves toward government transparency, which include council meetings that are available to watch online, most of its part-time elected officials appear media-shy.

Four council members, including the mayor, did not respond to interview requests.

The fifth, Melissa Ybarra, 46, responded to questions in writing. Ybarra is the only council member who grew up in Vernon.

Asked how she dealt with the city’s environmental challenges, she wrote in an email: “As a resident, I always saw Vernon as a hub for endless economic growth and job opportunities. As a council member, I have encouraged and supported the city's direction on improving our environmental challenges.”

The backstory on the disincorporation attempt

At the time of the disincorporation attempt, it wasn’t Vernon residents who were complaining about Vernon’s corruption and pollution problems. It was people who lived in the residential cities that surround it, whose air and land its industries were also fouling.

John Pérez, pictured in a 2010 visit to Washington, D.C. when he was speaker of the California Assembly.

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They got the attention of then-Assembly Speaker Pérez, who represented Vernon and the surrounding area, and in December 2010 Pérez took the bold step of introducing the bill that would have disincorporated the city and placed it under the jurisdiction of the L.A. County Board of Supervisors as an unincorporated area — the same status held by East Los Angeles.

His move set off a political firestorm that in turn launched a big payday for lawyers and lobbyists. The city spent about $9 million to fight disincorporation, while Vernon’s chamber mounted a smaller parallel campaign. Both predicted that disincorporation would lead to a regional economic catastrophe, with businesses choosing to leave once they no longer had their discounts, resulting in the loss of tens of thousands of blue-collar jobs.

Although most of the workforce in the city was unorganized, major unions that represented slivers of the workforce, including the Teamsters, the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers and the United Food and Commercial Workers, lined up with employers to make the same point.

The fight was bitter, and Pérez, a former union official himself, recalls being at odds with old friends from labor, confronted by strangers in restaurants, tailed wherever he went by private detectives presumably hired by the bill’s opponents, and followed by Vernon police every time he drove through the city. These experiences were painful enough that, when LAist recently asked for his recollections, he wise-cracked, “Are you willing to pay the therapist’s bills after I talk to you?”

Pérez’s legislation sailed through the Assembly. But it hit a roadblock in the state Senate, where a political rival who represented the same area objected. Then-state Sen. Kevin de León, who had lost a battle with Pérez to be Assembly Speaker before moving on to the Senate, recognized that Vernon had to change. But his method was to negotiate.

De León, now on the L.A. city council, did not respond to interview requests. De León recently decided to run for reelection despite calls for him to resign following his participation in a secretly recorded conversation that featured racist language.

To avoid disincorporation, the city agreed to de León’s demands that it make democratic reforms and agreed to hire the late John Van de Kamp, a former Los Angeles County district attorney and California attorney general, to advise it on ethics.

The result was a sea change in governance culture. In a few years, administrators’ salaries were reduced to normal ranges. The city’s top administrator, a position that once paid as much as $1.65 million annually, is now paid $349,000. Competitive elections were held. City employees were accorded job security. Term limits on elected officials were imposed. Public records became easy to obtain, a lottery was created for city-owned residences and the city agreed to create additional housing in the form of the affordable housing project on city-donated land.

Dilia Ortega, Youth Program Coordinator at Communities for a Better Environment, photographed near the now closed Exide plant. This is a stop in the "toxic tours" led by Ortega and other members of Communities for a Better Environment.

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Unfortunately, the affordable housing project wound up being in the path of airborne lead contamination from Vernon’s now-shuttered Exide battery recycling plant. The state’s Department of Toxic Substances Control is attempting to remediate.

The city disavowed only one aspect of the deal it had made with de León. Vernon city officials had pledged to make $60 million in contributions over 10 years to neighboring cities — as a sort of unofficial penance for having allowed its industries to pollute them.

Once the city’s survival was assured, Vernon’s leaders backed away from that pledge, blaming a state action that restricted access to certain funds the city had counted on to fulfill its commitment. The city instead has doled out $10 million over 12 years, according to city spokesperson Margie Otto.

De León, who had statewide political ambitions at the time, didn’t publicly object and got a nice political plum out of the abridged deal. Not only was he hailed by Vernon’s business interests, he was also treated as a hero in the neighboring city of Huntington Park, where Vernon helped pay for new synthetic turf on the main public soccer field. When it was unveiled, that turf bore the politician’s name in big letters: “Hon. Kevin de Léon Campo de Fútbol.”

Production of Tesla's Cybertruck, a stainless-steel electric vehicle with a polarizing allure for potential buyers, will wind down next year.

In a post on social media, CEO Elon Musk said, “Tesla will be winding down production of the Cybertruck at Gigafactory Texas around the middle of next year to make room for increased Cybercab production.”

The Texas facility is the only location where the Cybertruck is produced.

Teslas, and the Cybertruck in particular because of its unorthodox profile, became a political touchstone as Musk allied himself with President Donald Trump and some right-leaning causes amid a widening political divide in the U.S. and Europe.

European sales of Tesla vehicles tumbled 49% in the first two months of 2025 even as overall sales of EVs grew. Musk’s endorsement of Germany’s far-right Alternative for Germany party in national elections drew broad condemnation.

The vehicle was also plagued by quality-control issues, with a handful of recalls within months of its debut.

Despite enormous anticipation, the Cybertruck never caught on with most buyers, and sales declined almost from the moment it hit the market.

While Tesla does not break out sales of its vehicles by model, Kelley Blue Book estimated that Cybertruck sales declined 48% from 2024 to 2025. From January through September of this year, sales were down 28%, according to Kelley Blue Book.

An artist live-work colony in Lincoln Heights is opening its 17-acre campus this weekend, where a beer named Eastside was once brewed.

More than 100 artists are participating in the Brewery Artwalk, an event that started in 1983, according to Kristen Carlson. She is president and CEO of Carlson Industries, which operates the Brewery.

“It was an idea with the artists that were there at that time to have open studios,” Carlson said.

The Brewery.

The Brewery is inviting the public to its twice-yearly Artwalk this weekend.

Silver Cariaso, Eastside Brewery employee

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Los Angeles Public Library

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In 1979, New York transplants Arnold "Whitey" Carlson and his sons Steven and Richard bought the shuttered plant. The eldest Carlson had built the Island Garden — a one-time home of the New York Nets.

An old photo of one of the buildings at the Brewery.

The Brewery site with the Edison smokestack behind it.

“My grandfather and my father and my uncle basically came to California in the '70s trying to find property to purchase and develop,” Kristen Carlson, Steven’s daughter, said. “That's where they ended up.”

The family started selling off the plant’s contents piece by piece — “bricks and kegs and tanks and whatever,” Carlson said. Their earliest tenants, she added, included the repair academy American Institute of Piano Technology and a stainless-steel fabricator for restaurant equipment.

Edison Electric built its steam-powered plant behind the Brewery complex in the early 1900s.

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The 1982 law changed everything.

“They developed one unit as an artist loft and put an ad in the L.A. Times,” Carlson said. “They had a line down the street. The phone rang off the hook until my mom literally took it off the line. And they were like, ‘OK, I guess this is what we do now.’”

Today, 23 buildings make up the Brewery, with studios, galleries, a restaurant and 300 live-work lofts.

Its oldest building is the steam power plant with its iconic smokestack, designed by John Parkinson and built in the early 1900s by Edison Electric.

Inside, it’s now a state-of-the-art climbing gym.

The Brewery Artwalk is a financial supporter of LAist. Like other funders, it has no influence on our coverage.

This story first appeared on Long Beach Post.

For Luis Mendiola, the kitchen is his happy place. It has been since he was a kid. The kitchen is warm and comfortable. The kitchen feeds him and keeps him safe.

“It’s like being in the womb. You are always protected,” Mendiola said in Spanish. And while Mendiola loves cooking in the kitchen, his wife, Veronica Lopez, enjoys serving customers.

Together, they’re running their dream restaurant in West Long Beach, Black Pork. Lopez describes Black Pork as “a multicultural, California-style” restaurant.

Before meeting in California and settling in Long Beach together, Mendiola and Lopez learned to cook in various professional kitchens from Mexico to London, Louisiana to Oregon. Drawing from their experiences around the world, they put together a menu of comfort foods: empanadas, mac and cheese balls, clam chowder, Cubano sandwiches, hamburgers, barbecue ribs, porchetta, Korean barbecue and more.

“We want to give people something different with our style,” Lopez said.

Veronica Lopez and Chef Luis Mendiola own and operate Black Pork restaurant in West Long Beach.

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The menu is a culmination of customer feedback over the last three years and what the couple just wants to make. Clam chowder holds a special place in Mendiola’s heart because it was one of the first soups he learned how to make, so when customers asked for a soup, it was easy to decide which one. The clam chowder was only supposed to be on the menu for a couple of months, but customers loved it so much they kept it as a regular menu item. The soup, like almost all of their food, is made from scratch and has a hint of spice from the splash of Tabasco and white pepper that Mendiola adds.

With a name like Black Pork, their pork dishes, of course, take center stage.

“The pork belly skewers are decadent; crispy but tender, the smoky flavor is perfect. Chef Luis makes some mouth-watering Cubano pulled pork, too,” Kate Maule, a long-time customer, said. “I honestly won’t order a Cubano sandwich anywhere else because it will never be made with the care Chef Luis takes.”

Inside Black Pork, a three-foot-tall black pig wearing a scarf and glasses greets customers as they walk through the door. A smaller pig wearing a bow tie stands on the counter next to the register. Illustrations of pigs line the left wall and figurines of pigs with wings sit on a shelf above the tables. Mendiola and Lopez’s nod to John Steinbeck’s Pigasus — a symbol of aspiration.

The pig motif and the restaurant’s name are a reflection of Mendiola’s passion for cooking with pork.

“[Mendiola] loves to cook with the pork because he says that you can work with everything: the head, the tongue, the feet, everything. You can do whatever you want,” Lopez said.

Cuban pork sandwich at Black Pork restaurant in West Long Beach.

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In the three years they’ve been open, Lopez said Black Pork has gained a loyal following from customers in Long Beach and surrounding cities.

“I don’t know why people come here, but I love that they do it,” Lopez said.

Maule said it is the food and the warm hospitality of Lopez and Mendiola that make Black Pork one of her favorite restaurants and keeps her coming back at least once a month since they opened in 2023.

“You don’t just go for a good meal. You visit friends, too,” Maule said. “Chef Luis and Veronica aren’t just chefs; they’re the best kind of people.”

Guava and spices (left) and peach ginger iced tea at Black Pork restaurant in West Long Beach.

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She appreciates how much care they put into every dish.

“You can tell Chef Luis put himself into all of his smoked meats; you can tell Chef Veronica puts her last touches on everything before that plate gets put in front of you. I rarely get that feeling anywhere else,” Maule said.

Christine Cabrera’s customers at PBS Pub in Wrigley, kept raving about the empanadas at Black Pork. When Cabrera and her husband, who help run the pub, finally went to Black Pork a few months after the restaurant opened, they planned on ordering their food to-go. But they dined-in after meeting Lopez and Mendiola.

“We hit it off with [Mendiola and Lopez], ordered appetizers, and left with full bellies and hearts,” Cabrera said. Now, Cabrera and her husband are one of the many frequent customers at Black Pork and sell their empanadas at their pub.

“We are a community of small businesses. Our neighbors aren’t just people who live here, but also people who believed in the neighborhood enough to invest here, which makes it even more important that we lean into helping other small businesses that have that same dedication,” Cabrera said.

Black Pork’s owners said they work 12 hours a day, six days a week and run the restaurant by themselves because, “it’s something that we do with all the love in the world,” Lopez said.

Black Pork, 1916 W Willow St., is open Mondays from 10 a.m. to 8 p.m. and Tuesdays through Saturdays from 9 a.m. to 8 p.m.

Starting Saturday, Nov. 7, the 63-year-old Vincent Thomas Bridge will shut down until at least March 2028 for major construction. Workers will replace its deck, which has become “severely deteriorated” from thousands of vehicles driving across it daily.

The Vincent Thomas, which connects San Pedro to Terminal Island, is the state’s fourth-longest suspension bridge. It handles an estimated 53,000 vehicles — including 4,600 heavy trucks — each day.

The bridge is often the quickest route between San Pedro and Long Beach. Detours along Anaheim Street or Pacific Coast Highway could double many people’s commute times.

Tate Allen and his San Pedro neighbors have begun referring to the closure as “Harborgeddon.”

The Vincent Thomas Bridge will close to traffic starting Saturday, Nov. 7 in San Pedro, Monday, Nov. 2, 2026. Photo by Thomas R. Cordova.Allen, with help from Claude AI, even put together a website bearing that name that has a countdown clock and a map of suggested detours.

Caltrans’ official detour recommends that drivers from San Pedro use the 110 Freeway to access Harry Bridges Boulevard, then take the 47 Freeway at Henry Ford Boulevard or the 710 Freeway.

That’s likely the route most truck drivers entering and exiting the Port of Long Beach will take, Allen said, and commute times could vary widely depending on the time of day.

He currently travels from San Pedro to his downtown Long Beach office three days a week. Once the bridge closes, his 15-minute drive will likely take 30-45 minutes, Allen estimated.

Ahead of the bridge closure, Los Angeles City Councilmember Tim McOsker, who represents District 15 including San Pedro and Wilmington, pushed for road improvements along the detours to prepare them for increased traffic.

In Wilmington, those efforts included “slurry sealing along Alameda Street and Harry Bridges Boulevard, with concrete repairs in some locations,” Sophie Gilchrist, the councilmember’s spokesperson, wrote in a statement.

McOsker is also asking the Los Angeles Department of Transportation to monitor traffic on Anaheim Street after the bridge closes and identify short-term and long-term fixes “if problems arise,” Gilchrist wrote.

Why is this happening now?

Caltrans began forming this plan after a 2021 inspection found that the bridge deck condition had dropped from “fair” to “poor” in part because of heavy truck traffic from the ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach.

That ultimately led to the $750 million bridge deck replacement project, which will also replace the center median, railing, fencing and install new seismic sensors and utilities on the bridge.

Caltrans officials say a full bridge closure was the most palatable of several unsavory options. Plans to just close the bridge at night would have stretched construction to 48 months. A mix of weekend and overnight closures to keep one lane open ranged between 25 and 32 months.

What does this mean for locals?

Business owners in San Pedro are worried that lengthy detours will frustrate potential customers and lead to a dip in sales.

Stephanie Crawford, who has owned Creative Pet Supply in San Pedro for the past 26 years, said construction on the 47 Freeway off-ramp just up the road from her business has already hurt.

Lately, she’s had “quite a few” customers from Long Beach asking how they’ll be able to visit her store once the bridge shuts down.

She’s been telling customers: “We’ll still be open, if you can get to us.”

The Vincent Thomas Bridge will be closed for repairs for over a year, starting Saturday, Nov. 7, in San Pedro, Tuesday, Nov. 3, 2026. Photo by Thomas R. Cordova.The closure might also be a headache for the historic Warner Grand Theatre in downtown San Pedro, which is just finishing up renovations of its own, albeit at an inopportune time, said Liz Schindler Johnson, executive director of the Grand Vision Foundation – a nonprofit arts organization that markets the theater’s events.

On average, roughly 10-15% of their audience comes from Long Beach, Schindler Johnson said. She’s hoping they won’t be put off by the longer drive, especially because the shows primarily take place on weekends.

Two of her eight employees typically commute over the bridge to their San Pedro office and are bracing for added drive time, she said.

“We don’t want to go back to remote work if we can help it,” Schindler Johnson said.

Meanwhile, Allen is trying to stay positive. The longer drive, he said, will give him an excuse to catch up on audiobooks and check out a new grocery store — the Northgate Market along Pacific Coast Highway in Wilmington.