MacArthur Park

Stand at the edge of the water for a moment. A fountain jet rises from the middle of the lake and falls back with a steady hiss. Pigeons and ducks work the shoreline. Behind you, buses brake along Wilshire Boulevard, and somewhere a vendor is calling out in Spanish. This is MacArthur Park, and it has never been a quiet place.

The park is much older than its name. It took shape in the late nineteenth century, when Los Angeles was still a small city spreading west from its old centre. The land here was low and marshy, the kind of ground that developers usually avoided. City leaders saw it differently. They shaped the wet ground into a lake, planted trees around it, and opened a public park. For decades it was simply called Westlake Park.

That name explains the neighbourhood you are standing in today. The district around the park is still called Westlake. In the early twentieth century, this was a fashionable address. Grand hotels, apartment buildings and elegant homes rose around the water. Postcards from that era show rowboats on the lake, people in hats and long coats, and palm trees framing the view. Wealthy residents came here to walk, to be seen, and to escape the dust of downtown.

Now look at the road that cuts straight through the park. This is Wilshire Boulevard, one of the great avenues of Los Angeles. In the 1930s, the city pushed the boulevard directly across the park, splitting it into two halves. Many people objected at the time. A park designed around one lake was suddenly divided by traffic. Today you can see the result clearly: the lake sits on the south side, and the northern section holds lawns, sports areas and a bandshell.

The new name came during the Second World War. In 1942, the city renamed the park in honour of General Douglas MacArthur, the American commander in the Pacific. It was a patriotic gesture at a moment of national anxiety. MacArthur himself had a connection to the city, and the name stuck. Many older locals still say Westlake when they talk about the area, so you will hear both names used.

Here is a surprise for many visitors. This small urban lake is probably better known around the world than almost any other park in Los Angeles — because of a song. In 1968, the actor Richard Harris recorded a long, dramatic ballad called MacArthur Park, written by the songwriter Jimmy Webb. The song is famous for its sweeping orchestra and its strange image of a cake left out in the rain. Webb has said the park was a real place in his life, where he spent time with someone he loved.

The song became a hit, then a joke, then a classic. Disco versions followed in the 1970s, and singers kept returning to it for decades. So when you stand here, you are standing inside one of the most unusual pop songs of the twentieth century. Many people who have never visited Los Angeles know the name of this park only through that melody. The real place is far less dreamy, and far more alive.

After the war, the neighbourhood changed. Wealthier families moved further west and into the suburbs. The grand buildings aged. From the 1970s onward, the area became home to large numbers of immigrants from Central America, especially from El Salvador and Guatemala, as well as from Mexico. Westlake became one of the most densely populated neighbourhoods in Los Angeles. The park became the shared front yard for families living in crowded apartments nearby.

That history brought hard years too. In the 1980s and 1990s, the park became known for drug dealing and crime, and many residents felt unsafe here. When the lake was drained during work on the city's subway line in the 1990s, crews reportedly found a large number of discarded weapons at the bottom. The city later invested in cleanups, lighting and programmes to bring families back. The park's story is still a work in progress, and locals will tell you so honestly.

The subway itself is part of that story. Just across from the park sits Westlake slash MacArthur Park station, on the Metro line that runs under Wilshire. It connects this neighbourhood to downtown in one direction and to Koreatown and Hollywood in the other. Much of the foot traffic you see comes up from those platforms. The park is not only a destination. For many people here, it is a daily path between home and work.

The park has also been a place of protest. On May Day in 2007, a large rally for immigrant rights gathered here, and police clashed with marchers and journalists. The event led to official investigations and changes in police practice. For many residents, the park is not only a place to relax. It is a public square, where the community gathers to be seen and heard.

Walk to the northern half and you will find a quieter rhythm. Families picnic on the grass. Teenagers play football on the fields. In summer, the bandshell area hosts outdoor concerts, and music drifts across the lawns in the evening. Around the edges of the park, street vendors sell sliced mango with chile, cut fruit in plastic cups, corn, and pupusas, the thick stuffed corn cakes from El Salvador. The food tells you who lives here.

One more detail that surprises many first-time visitors. Right across the street, at the corner of Alvarado and Seventh, stands Langer's Delicatessen, a family-run deli that has served this corner for generations. Food writers often call its hot pastrami sandwich one of the best in the country. Office workers, police officers, tourists and neighbourhood regulars all sit in the same booths. It is a small reminder that this area has always mixed many kinds of people.

Before you leave, turn back toward the water. Watch the fountain rise and fall against the towers of downtown in the distance. Notice the old buildings around the edge of the park, with their tall windows and faded signs from another era. Listen to the mix of languages on the paths. Westlake Park, MacArthur Park — whatever you call it, this ground has held the hopes of many different Los Angeles generations. Take one slow walk around the lake, and let the city carry on around you.