Photo Essay: Transforming the Hughes Campus Into Hercules, Before & After

I first visited the Hughes Aircraft Company campus—with most of its buildings abandoned and slated for demolition—right after I'd moved to LA in 2011.


Building 15, circa 2011

It was a kind of "last look" at the buildings before they would be gone...


Building 15, circa 2015

...or renovated for the new "Hercules Campus"...

Building 15, circa 2015

...named after the infamous Hughes H-4 Hercules "flying boat," also known as the "Spruce Goose."


Buildings 15 and 16, circa 2015

The hangar where it was built and stored still stands, though years of grime and gook have been stripped away from its interior.


Building 15, circa 2015

It hasn't been used for aeronautical purposes in a long time, having most recently served as a soundstage for various film and TV productions.


Building 1 Executive Offices, 2011

The International style structure that once housed the executive offices also remains...


Building 1, Headquarters of 72 and Sunny, 2015

...as does its a cantilevered awning...


Building 1, circa 2015

...although now it houses the industrial-chic, open floor plan offices of hip ad agency 72 and Sunny.


Building 1, circa 2015

Fortunately, the agency has preserved some of the historic interior elements...


Buildings 1 and 2, circa 2011

...like a wooden filing cabinet built into a wall in what's now used as a conference room.


Buildings 1 and 2, now 72 and Sunny offices, circa 2015

They even kept the old graffitied map that had been left behind...


Circa 2011

...and framed it for display in their reception area as a reminder of the past.

Circa 2011

They also preserved the corner office on "Mahogany Row," which is thought to have been the office of Mr. Hughes himself...


Inside Building 1, circa 2011

...but the rest of it is unrecognizable from those abandoned, rain-soaked days.


The view from Building 1, circa 2011

This place has often been described by former Hughes employees as a "swamp"...

Circa 2011

...and on a rainy day in 2011, it wasn't much different.

Circa 2015

But after four years of drought and a new coat of paint, it can be hard to believe that Hercules is the same place as Hughes.


Building 10, cafeteria, circa 2011

On the Hercules South Campus, video game developer and publisher Konami has moved into the former cafeteria of the Hughes Campus...


Building 10, now Konami offices, circa 2015

...which had been built in 1943 and then expanded in 1950 to accommodate the growing numbers of hungry Hughes staffers (who were often stranded on campus when the adjacent creek flooded).


Building 17, circa 2011

Originally built in 1950 as a warehouse, Building 17 was also used later for the Hughes Campus medical center and office space.


Building 17, circa 2015

Now, it's home to the Hercules Campus' first-ever tenant, YouTube...


Building 17, now YouTube, circa 2015

...which uses it as a production space for their channel "creators."


Circa 2015

In tribute to the history of the campus, they even acquired and restored a Hughes-manufactured helicopter, which is proudly on display out front.


Building 3, circa 2011

YouTube has also leased Building 3, which was built in 1942 and used to mock up the nose cone and systems for the Spruce Goose.


Building 3, circa 2015

The five-sided wooden building has been abandoned for years, so there's quite a bit of rehabilitation that is needed before it's move-in ready.

I suppose it's appropriate that the former Hughes Campus has transformed into a tech-centric haven for programmers, developers, designers, and digital whiz kids. After all, Hughes positioned himself and his company at the forefront of innovation, having worked on the latest developments in communications, radar, and other defense technologies.

This is the legacy he left behind when he died in 1976.

Well, one of his legacies. Throughout his career, Hughes had his fingers in a whole lot of pies.

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Photo Essay: The First Cathedral of the Colonies

It bills itself as America's first cathedral, which is fair enough...



...because it was the first cathedral built in any of the first 13 colonies that were considered to be part of "America" at the time...



...although there were other cathedrals built in what is now the United States of America before The Baltimore Basilica.



From its stately exterior...



...it actually looks far more like a courthouse or some other municipal or federal building...



...rather than one dedicated to ecclesiastical purposes.

That's probably because its architect, Benjamin Henry Latrobe...



...also designed the U.S. Capitol building, which heavily influenced his design for the cathedral...



...built in an area of Baltimore known as "Cathedral Hill."



Once you pass through the neoclassical columns of the portico, though, it's clear that this is sacred space...



...with memorials devoted to the religious dignitaries who have visited, like Mother Theresa, Pope John Paul II...



...and at least 20 other people who ended up becoming canonized or are likely to become saints at some point in the future.



In many ways, this was the birthplace of the Catholic Church in New America...



...built in our country's first Roman Catholic diocese (declared 1789) under the guidance of our first Roman Catholic bishop...



...and having consecrated many of America's first bishops...



...and ordaining more priests than any other church in the U.S. (that is, until recently).



Latrobe's style—and his Greek monumental influences—can be seen in the number of domes throughout the cruciform structure...



...the coffered ceilings adorned with plaster rosettes.




Like many historic structures, the basilica went through some cosmetic changes in the mid-20th century—a coat of paint here, a slab of marble there—and lost much of its original character.



But much of it—including the pipe organ—(originally built by Hilborne Roosevelt in 1884)—was restored in 2006 and has returned to its former, light and bright glory...



...which, for many, is a refreshing change from the dimly lit Gothic cathedrals of Europe.



Liturgical details include ceiling murals...



...and the Altar of Reservation, with its cross, candlesticks...



...and Rafael Angels, which were carved out of wood (not plaster!) in 1821...



...and had been sitting in storage since 1947.



There's also the Altar of St. Michael the Archangel...




...lit by clear windows instead of the traditional colored art glass of most cathedrals.




But the really exciting part of the restoration is the undercroft, directly under the main altar...



...which, prior to the restoration, had never been open to the public.



It is AMAZING.



It's basically used as a museum now, with statuary, historic photos...



...various religious accoutrements, and temporary exhibits.



A statue of the Virgin of Guadalupe stands under a curved brick ceiling...



...which is actually an architectural marvel of inverted arches...



...that holds up the cathedral above it.



It's also a crypt. Some of the interred have been moved, but eight of the 12 archbishops of Baltimore who have passed were buried here, including its founder, John Carroll.



The walls of the crypt also bear the names (and the hand-drawn signatures) of two of the restoration workers who helped open it up to the public.

Very creepy and wonderful, and a good reason to have taken a two-hour lunch break when I was supposed to be training for my new job.

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Photo Essay: The Broad Museum & Its One Big Draw

After visiting the new Broad Museum of Contemporary Art twice now...



...well, three times, if you consider the visit when I didn't have a reservation and refused to wait in a line around the block...



...I've come to realize that people have been coming out in droves to this place for one thing.

Rescue Me

The first time I got the idea to rescue an older cat, I was on a business trip at North Shore Animal League in Long Island, New York.

Before then, it never occurred to me that there would be cats in shelters that would never get adopted. But at NSAL, the ones who have been there for more than 30 days—usually the ones that are a bit older—get to live in their own open space condo, sponsored by Purina.

Why?

Because if they haven't been adopted by now, they probably never will be.

That was 10 years ago, and it broke my heart.

Ever since then, I haven't been able to get out of my head that I wanted to adopt a cat—not a kitten—so that it would really be a rescue. But over the last 10 years, I've worked too late, or haven't worked enough, or partied too much to be able to take care of myself—much less of a little creature.

So I've been alone, mooching off my friends for their cats and dogs, wondering when I'll finally be able to get a little companion of my own.

In the last couple of years, my awareness of my PTSD has become clearer than ever—and with it, the realization that I really need some emotional support from the animal kingdom. But more importantly, that I need to be needed. I need to feel like I'm making a difference in someone's life, even if that someone is of another species.

I needed to rescue as much as I needed to be rescued.

So once I knew I was up for a job that would require me to work full-time from home, I promised myself that if I got it, I would get a cat. I just can't stay in my apartment all day all alone.

After I got the job, I kept saying, "I'm going to get a cat," but it didn't feel real until I'd actually parked at the shelter, walked up to the front desk, and declared, "I'm interested...in a cat."

"Is there a specific one?" they asked.

"No...I'd like to...browse."

I was going to be a very awkward cat mommy, if my demeanor upon arrival were any indication.

I started to peer into the cages at the kitties, almost all of whom were sleeping and couldn't care less when I walked up to say, "Hi baby..."

But then I saw this one black cat, his yellow eyes wide open staring up at me. He didn't seem to have any hope of getting adopted, but he took note of me. I checked out the name tag on his cage—"Joshua"—which stated that he was a great lap cat and very affectionate.

"You're on the list!" I told him, snapping a photo so I'd remember him, and moving on to the rest.

All told, I picked out four cats that I wanted to meet—all over two years old, all less likely to be adopted once the newborns arrived.

But, for some reason, Joshua was the first one they chose to introduce to me.

And once I found out that I was the only one who'd requested to meet him—in the weeks since he'd arrived from the city shelter (where he'd been surrendered by his previous owner back in November)—I knew he could be the one.

As kids, my sister and I had begged our mother for a cat to no avail; but one summer, there was a friendly stray black cat that Mom took in with the promise of keeping it. It had reminded her of some cat from her own childhood, so—for a moment—she was willing to make a concession, despite her fear of fleas and fur.

But then after just a couple of days, that little black cat took a nibble on the cord to the iron, and suddenly he was shipped off to the neighbors' house, where we'd catch an occasional glimpse of him through the window.

In the adoption room, I learned that Joshua had turned three years old back in November, and that he was a bit skittish when it came to a change of environments.

"What's going to happen if somebody adopts him?" I asked.

"Well, we don't know, but I guess we'll find out."

It didn't take long for me to realize why Joshua was a staff favorite at the shelter. At the lightest touch, he would melt into a puddle, offering his belly for rubbing. He was mellow for sure, but he warmed up right away.

So, I decided to take a chance on him, my new little boy.

The adoption proceedings went by incredibly quickly, and the next thing I knew, I was toting my new furball home in a cardboard carrier. He'd occasionally mew out of confusion or distress during the ride home, and I'd try to calm him with my voice—but who was I to him?

Nobody...yet.

He's only been here for a day or so, and he's still figuring out where he is and who I am and what the hell is going on. I've gotten him to eat and poop and enjoy a good brushing; but last night he slept under my bed rather than on it with me, and he's spent quite a bit of time under the couch today.

His mews are becoming more conversational and less distressed, and he's venturing out to explore more. He likes to look out the window and play with the pullstring of my window blinds. He's not an early riser, and he seems to really hit his stride after the sun goes down.

He's like the boy cat version of me.

I have no idea why his previous owners gave him up. Maybe somebody died, or got sick, or moved, or who knows. He doesn't cower away from me, and he knows how to use the litter. He doesn't claw the couch and doesn't care much for toys or playing.

He seems to just want to be loved, but he gets a bit anxious when he can hear the neighbors running water or some other disturbance in the building. That's when he bolts for under the bed.

I never realized how dusty it was under my furniture until my black cat started turning gray. So now there's a reason for me to keep the apartment clean, and warm, and free of perils.

He doesn't know that his name is Joshua, a name that the shelter gave him when he arrived like a prisoner, assigned with only a serial number. I hope to find something else to call him. I think I need to get to know him a little better so I can pick something that really suits him.

I hope he lets me get to know him. I hope he lets me love him.

And I hope he finds a way to love me, too—no matter what has happened to him in the past.

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