Photo by Lee Vuitton.
Larry Earl is the founding lead historian for Destination Crenshaw. Before joining us for the Zócalo and Destination Crenshaw public program “Is Car Culture the Ultimate Act of Community in Crenshaw?,” he joined us in the green room to talk about why he loves driving the 405, his family of “yuck-mouths,” and the incredible librarians who’ve preserved Black L.A. history.
What did you want to be growing up?
I wanted to be an orthodontist. I was fixated on oral hygiene. I never had a cavity until I was over 40. The dentists in my community growing up were pillars. Dr. Price and Dr. Scott, I remember them. These were African American men who graduated from Hampton University; I was from Hampton, Virginia. They were distinguished men. They had beautiful wives. They had a great life. I was like, I want to be like them. I actually became a dental tech in the Navy. I got activated for Desert Shield/Desert Storm, working in a Naval hospital in oral surgery. It taught me that I didn’t want to do that for the rest of my life. And so history became my major in college.
How did you feel when you finally got that first cavity?
I was mortified! I cried. I lamented. I call my family a family of ‘yuck-mouths.’ They all have multiple. I was the one who’d never had one. But it’s still only been one! So I can stand on that.
Where’s your favorite place to go in Leimert Park?
It’s hard to say a favorite place to go in Leimert Park because Leimert Park is the favorite place. Whether you’re gonna go to Ackee Bamboo and pick up a patty, or Harun Coffee or Ora, or just hang out in the square, Leimert Park is the destination—the place to be.
Where is your favorite place to drive in L.A.?
If you can get on the 405, and there’s no traffic, and you can ride south or ride north, there’s nothing like it.
What is your go-to karaoke song?
“What You Won’t Do for Love.” I fancy myself retiring one day and being a lounge singer. And I want to sing the classics. Just a three-piece and a mike. I dream of that.
Who’s one figure of Black Los Angeles that is undercelebrated?
L.A. has had incredible librarians who have been keepers of the culture. Mayme Clayton, who started Western States Black Research Center, is not lauded enough. Or Miriam Matthews, who really is the reason why we have so much material available to us today about early Black L.A. because she sought out, collected, and preserved it, and left it for the public. Those are just two figures I think about, because to understand L.A., you have to understand its people, and to understand its people you have to know their history and their material cultural possessions. And those are the women who collected those things, and more importantly, wanted to share them with everybody else.
You mentioned earlier that you studied history in college. Do you remember when you first fell in love with the subject?
In 11th grade, I had a teacher by the name of Mr. Butler. And Mr. Butler was an exacting man. He wore a black leather jacket, a suit and a tie every day. He required us to read Parade magazine every Sunday. And he would come in, and he would give us a quiz on the notes he had given us on history lessons the week before, and Parade magazine. So he mixed the history with the contemporary. And he would have everybody stand up in the back of the room, open up his roll book, and he’d close his eyes and point to a name. If you couldn’t answer the question, you couldn’t sit down for the class. So that exercise perked up my interest to listen and learn more and to read more, and through that exercise, I began to love and understand history.