Southern California was a wonderful place to grow up in the 50s. As a kid I’d ride the Pacific Electric by myself to the LA terminal located in lovely “skid row”, never worried or felt in danger. People from back east would remark on how neat and tidy Watts looked in comparison to the slums back at home. A different world...
I grew up at the same time in West Whittier. Last night, when I went out to take pictures of Christmas lights, I walked on the same sidewalk that I did so often for ten years beginning in 1953. It doesn't look all that much different today, but it's still a different galaxy. In 2018, You wouldn't allow a kid to play in his front yard unsupervised, let alone walk down the block, in that neighborhood.