Meditation Garden Above The Target Practice Area

My father was with the LAPD for 30 years, starting in 1962. One time, in the early 70s during the annual picnic, my older brother, my younger sister, myself and a few other cops’ kids decided to bypass the nice swimming pool opened for the day, and we went “swimming” in the little pools. Of course, we got caught and kicked out.
Years later, at another picnic (President Bush made an appearance while running for re-election) my sister and I merely observed the pools but remembered the fun!
Finally, in 1992, my father retired from the LAPD and his retirement party was held in the area at the foot of the pools. It was very serene and a nice way for my dad to leave the department.

When visitors to L.A. allow me to insist, there are 2 places I am adamant about taking them: Watts Towers and here (lest we wind up at some dreadful, soul-numbing trap like Universal City Walk or Disneyland or Hollywood Boulevard).

How I came to discover the Los Angeles Police Academy meditation garden above the target range:

My S/O John has a book from the 70’s listing cheap Los Angeles eateries. I stumbled upon the book not long after moving in with him, around 1994. I came across an entry about a coffee shop on the grounds on the Los Angeles Police Academy, just opposite Dodger Stadium in Elysian Park. It just so happened that my credit union had an ATM on the grounds, too; I had a reason for being there other than mere grub-scouting.

One day, after making a deposit (more likely a withdrawal, no?), I decided to nose around and see if the coffee shop mentioned in the book was still in operation, lo, 20-odd years later. I wasn’t sure I was, um, authorized to be on the campus; there was a kiosk staffed by a police officer at the entry and I was always allowed to pass when I explained I was headed to the credit union. So, I made myself, shall we say, inconspicuous, and skulked around a few corners until I was out of view of surveillance from the kiosk. (Probably more drama than was necessary, but I rather like skulking.)

I was immediately less interested in finding the coffee shop than I was in simply gawking at the 20’s architecture. And pretty soon, I stumbled upon a sign pointing the way to a chapel. Intrigued, I headed in that direction, and it was then that I came upon the meditation garden.

An enormous hillside is landscaped in typical Old Hollywood set-dressing style as a lush tropical forest with waterfalls and reflecting pools. At the time of its construction, cement was molded into boulders to form supports and was molded to resemble tree branches for use as fence railings. Cobblestone walkways meander up the hill, zigzagging across tiers and around planter beds. It is always immaculate. For all the maintenance required, I have never seen anyone working in the area. For that matter, I have never seen any LAPD employee meditating there either.

The chapel is off to one side and is a peculiar little igloo-shaped structure. Inside are chairs and individual headgear to provide a sound barrier from - of all things - the firing range that is immediately below it. As a matter of fact, the first time I was there, police officers were practicing blowing up targets as I was snooping around only a few feet away. It was quite disconcerting to have my wonder and reveries repeatedly interrupted with the deafening rapport of guns at close distance. Ironic soul that I am, it is THIS incongruity that makes this spot especially compelling to me: The metaphor that is Hollywood made, well, concrete, materially and aurally.

Just now, I found information at the LAPD website about the Police Academy. It explains that the institution evolved from the Los Angeles Police Revolver and Athletic Club—and explains also that the firing range was used for pistol and rifle competition during the 1932 Olympic Games.

What attraction does Disneyland hold in light of such alternatives?