LESSON 25: the Spirit of Wood
GREETINGS, fellow Woodites everywhere!
And to all you non-Woodites out there, a very special welcome indeed. At the moment that I write this 25th lesson, and it feels like only days ago that I wrote lesson 1, it is currently nearing the end of an absolutely beautiful California summer, one with trees and warmth and a gentle breeze like music playing on a grassy mountaintop somewhere. It's a different summer when contrasted with the heat and racism of my former home of Phoenix, Arizona, a place populated primarily of upper class elderly Christian Republicans and brown people, a place where 120 degree heat is considered the norm, which is a mind-numbing thought to me as I celebrate my second beautiful California summer.
Arizona summers stink.
That I do not miss. I hate having to smell every person I come in contact with, you know? That's what 110-degree and above will do to you. California summers are cold and windy, then hot in the afternoon, then breezy at night, all of that mixed in a blender and served with a side of fog and cell phones.
The last place I ever wanted to be living in was in California, as anyone who has read the previous lesson, Lesson 24: The Sadness of Wood, already knows. In my mind, a mind of someone who spent their entire life living in the same hot, brown little state, the pure concept of life in California honestly frightened me somewhat. The idea of California, this big, rich, pretentious sin nest, or Arizona Bay as Bill Hicks so eloquently called it, both frightened and repulsed me and it was the last state I ever wanted to live in. The reason behind the big change of heart? Nothing really.
I still can feel the throbbing evilness of this hellhole. I've just gotten used to it. Like my cavities. They've just been assimilated into the whole, which is Reverend Steve.
In contrast with Lesson 24, which admittedly was an incredibly down sort of lesson, this 25th one seems as upbeat and easy as the breeze outside my window for even the darkest of times will eventually give way to happiness.
Jesus H. Christ, you guys, that last lesson was a serious f-en downer, wasn't it? Jesus, guys, I'm sorry. Moving states after 24 years was really scary and frightening, what with me being an easily frightened, easily scared human being, and I was bitter with a lot of things, the majority aimed at myself for ruining a good thing and my parents for undermining the already doomed relationship. It took me a long time to find my smile again to quote Shawn Michaels and now I can happily say that I am finally out of the hard times.
Life is tough. To put it all in a California context, it's hella tough. God is a dirty little son of a bitch and, strangely enough, a bad writer of pulp novels in his spare time, and he loves more than anything else to fuck with all of us. But trust me. There are equal amounts of happiness and sadness. Unfortunately, as humans, it's our job to wait in said darkness for what seems to be a lengthy, inordinate amount of time for the happiness to eventually arrive. But it will. The sun will rise again and all that self help bullshit. I'm not here to play Dr. Phil with all of you.
I'm here today to talk about the spirit of Wood.
Having survived eight years of Catholic school on top of fifteen years of a Catholic upbringing, the word "spirit" is something that's thrown around religion as haphazardly as the word addict is thrown around an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting (and I say that after having recently watched the Michael Keaton movie "Clean and Sober" - a fucking killer flick). People - Christian and Catholics alike - pass the word spirit around all hither and tither without defining what the hell they mean in any way whatsoever. They go around talking all this vomit about the "spirit of God" and the "spirit of Jesus" and feeling the "spirit of Christ" being with them. They love using the word spirit. They use it constantly. They just throw it out like they have Bible-theme Tourettes.
But what the hell do they mean by the word spirit, huh? I mean, literally, what do they mean? They say that there's a holy spirit but they fail to explain it. Do they mean a sort of subconscious feeling that you thought was God? Or do you mean an actual, literal Scooby Doo ghost of Jesus?
And, even more importantly, do these people even know what they mean when they say this stuff? I don't think they do. They purposely dance around defining it. They don't want to. If you need it defined, then you're not a believer, they'd say like the sometimes pricks they are.
It's part of that whole "blind faith" package, which is really stupid in my own personal opinion. Here's Reverend Steve, the creator of the religion known as Woodism, with an incredible news flash for you ... blind faith is all a crock of shit. There. I said it.
Blind faith is ignorant worship.
Blind faith is religious power manifested.
Blind faith is a cow believing that something good is bound to happen to them once they follow the line of other cows into the slaughterhouse.
Blind faith is a priest or a bishop trying to convince you to worship something they have no proof ever existed.
Blind faith is the church's way of saying Ok, we have absolutely no proof whatsoever for anything we say, there is nothing at all backing up anything we do, you have no reason to believe us but we have decided that if you don't blindly believe in what we have to say then you're all going to hell so, like, just trust us and keep sending us your money. That's blind faith for you.
It's called blind faith for a reason. Just like that stupid rock song "Why Do You Think They Call It Dope" that I hated all too high holy hell back when I was a teenager. Well, then, Mr. Jesus Lover, why is it called blind faith, huh? Debate that through the recessed of your little brain. I've never known anyone who believed in blind faith without being incredibly blind to the world around them, let alone blind to the truth.
Damn godlings.
So all these religious types talk about the spirit of God without even knowing what the hell they're actually talking about, the little pricks.
I do, though. I was contacted by the spirit of Ed Wood.
Am I serious? I think so.
More on that later. Now I have to talk about Bishop Thomas O'Brien, the feel good story of the year.
This is the funny thing, people. It's funny to me that people all over America, all over the world perhaps, now seem to have rallied against Bishop O'Brien. That is so funny to me because personally I hated him back when I was a child. That's because the hellish Catholic school that I attended was the same hellish Catholic school where Bishop Thomas O'Brien was the high holy ruler. Everyone at work sure got a kick out of that. Let me tell you, nothing impresses the cute chicks at your work more than "I know the Bishop on the news last night!"
And to answer your first question, no, he never molested me or ran me over with his car, mistaking me for a cat. He just came off as creepy and frightening and always angry and always stand-offish and always pissed off at something or someone or perhaps everything and everyone ... come to think of it, you say it all that way and he sounds like a typical priest, really. Never liked him. Always hated him. He was like the angry stepfather no one ever wanted.
And now, at the time that I write this, the end of the summer of 2003, my Bishop Tommy is accused of murder. Funny how things work. When I left the church, I ran out of the church like a bat out of hell and never turned around to see what was going on since I left. Well, it seems that since I was gone little Tommy has been busy.
Let me 411 you about the Big Bishop and his present problems. Take note please that all of my information comes from the following sources: The bastards at CNN.com, the Gods at TheSmokingGun.com, the wussies at azcentral.com, and the bland warriors at the STAST report (whomever the hell THEY are), as well as a plethora of magazines and newspapers all over the place.
Presently, former Roman Catholic Bishop Thomas J. O'Brien is accused of hitting and killing Jim L. Reed, 43, as the man was jaywalking across a Phoenix intersection, and leaving the scene of the fatal accident. I say former because he WAS a Bishop for over 21 years and recently resigned in a massive cloud of controversy and alleged homicide. Cool, huh?
Police said that Mr. Reed was jaywalking across Glendale Avenue in good ol' Phoenix when he was hit by the good former Bishop's dirty ol' Buick, then run over by a second vehicle. Both drivers left without stopping. However, an eyewitness followed the 2003 Buick and noted its Arizona plate number. The license number (547-HBE) is registered to the Catholic Diocese of Phoenix. When police tracked the Big Bish down, O'Brien had already arranged for the damaged windshield to get repaired.
In the Big Bish's defense, he claimed that he, and I quote, "thought he hit a dog, cat, or someone threw rock at car." Which makes sense, seeing as there are so many five-foot-eight, 43 year old, 235 pound cats just wandering the streets of Phoenix like the giant kangaroos in that shitty movie "Tank Girl." So all fingers may very well point to the Big Bish being the benefactor of a whole heaping plate of death to this Reed guy. Is that all? Hell no! From here, it only gets better!
Even before the Big Bish was accused of doing a hit-n-run mass for a congregation of one, the former Big Bishop O'Brien relinquished some of his authority to protect him from criminal charges for allegedly shielding priests accused of child abuse. Can you believe that? This is like Shakespeare's take on Sunday school. This is like "The Story of Riki-Oh" version of the Diocese of Phoenix. This is better than playing GTA 3, man, I f-en love it! So, the prosecutors said that Bishop O'Brien admitted letting priests accused of sexual abuse work with children and that he secretly, quietly transferred these naughty priests to other churches without informing them of the allegations.
So, let's sum up. Hiding priests from sexual molestation allegations and in the midst of the public outcry he is accused of doing a hit-n-run. Fuck. Suddenly the N64 I never returned to the video store and my unpaid student loans don't really seem that bad, now, do they?
Jesus Christ, Tommy O'Brien, maybe you should think about running for Governor of California. I'd vote for you over the bad action star and the crippled pornographer and the Latino guy with the name that sounds like a Spanish soccer star. The great thing about a vote for O'Brien for governor is that he would run down the competition ... figuratively, of course. If California's budget problem was a jaywalker, then O'Brien would turn the state of California into a political car of American ingenuity and run down the budget problem as if he thought that it were merely a cat. Really, the election would all come down to Thomas O'Brien, Gary Coleman, and Gallagher for Governor. Or Stewie from Family Guy.
So, how does blind faith enter in to all of this? I'm not saying that blind faith is disproved by the man who preached it to me but all I propose is this - are all of the Catholics in Phoenix, Arizona now supposed to have blind faith that the Big Bish didn't kill that poor little jaywalker? And furthermore, how much weight does the subject of blind faith hold when it's being preached from an accused killer?
That man, Bishop O'Brien ... I think back at growing up, at my childhood, and I remember him standing up at the pulpit on Sundays preaching about forgiveness and God and Jesus and the heavenly spirit. He taught me about God and the Devil, about good and evil, about the bible, for God's sake! Well, where's your bible now, O'Brien? Where does your blind faith stand, sir?
This sent my mind rolling. Talk about a puzzler. If a holy priest who is eventually cast down as a sinner teaches you right and wrong from a high pulpit, then how does that effect your views of right and wrong? I think the sad fact that the Big Bish has taught us all is that even angels can trip and fall. Even people who are perfect aren't perfect. Even Superman can die.
Sad state of affairs.
I thought long and hard about the Big Bish, about all that he was going through. Hell, it still pops up in my mind. I mean, it's not often that you get to grow up being taught by an accused murderer, you know.
And I have to admit, mostly I laughed. Here's a story ... one of the reasons that I always hated that guy is that once at school when I was really young I got a detention because he caught me with my shirt untucked. Can you believe that bullcrap! There are children going to school with machine guns, killing all their classmates, and the Big Bish gives me detention because I never liked to have my shirt tucked it. The prick! Almost all of my problems now as a twentysomething man I can blame on my religious schooling at a young age. I mean, how can one fully adapt into society when you are taught in a school that gave people detentions for listening to rap music?
But here's a more comforting thought to end my lengthy Bishop O'Brien rant. Just think, somewhere in some alternate dimension there's a Bishop O'Brien that didn't give young Reverend Steve a detention and because of that act and that act alone, he is still the Bishop of the diocese of Phoenix. Funny when you think about it that way.
It was right about this time that Mister Lobo, the host of Sacramento, California late night horror television show Cinema Insomnia announced that he would be having a late night cult movie show at downtown Sacramento’s legendary Crest theater featuring skits, games, wild and crazy mondo film clips, and Ed Wood’s magnum opus “Plan 9 from Outer Space.”
That just blew my mind! I had never seen “Plan 9” – by far Ed’s holiest of films – on the big screen (or, in the Crest’s case, the barely huge screen), so I was well aware that this was a legendary, once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I set myself up to go with a group of Woodian followers. I called out an A.P.B. to all Woodites in the area. I called for all Woodites from as far up as Seattle and as far down as Los Angeles to try to converge on Sactown and experience the joys and wonders of Edward D. Wood’s “Plan 9 (Grave Robbers) from Outer Space” on the big (barely huge) screen.
Didn’t work out that way.
See, that’s the problem with having over 3,000 legally baptized followers WORLDWIDE is that they are spread out so thin, so I barely get a chance to meet fellow like-minded Woodites. Stinks, really. There are a few within my immediate circle, about thirty or so that I talk with and see and hug on a semi-regular basis. The Board of Woodian Reverends (mentioned in previous lessons past) is still intact, although our meetings are now few and far between given my sudden move. But that leaves at least 2,970 other followers that I don’t see too often. Shame, but there it is.
Occasionally I do have a cool moment of recognition, say, I’ll be at a comic book convention and someone will walk up and say “Aren’t you Reverend Steve?” That happens about six to twelve times a year, more if I actually go on a vacation. But I know I’ll never meet the hundreds of Woodites in Italy, or the hundreds that live in Germany, a nation where “Plan 9” is respected as a motion picture.
As well it should, too. Ed Wood’s “Plan 9 from Outer Space” is without a doubt the most sociological and political film that Ed made in his lifetime. People don’t bother to notice, though, because they are too bust laughing at the sets and the acting. This film features the United States Army as a bunch of lying, denying, headstrong idiots. The cops in Ed’s film are so busy dealing with facts that they are refusing even to believe that which is right in front of them, not to mention the cowardly Kelton. And, essentially, the plot can be boiled down to this simple phrase – the peace loving aliens want to save the world, the idiot Americans kill them. That’s it.
“Can you prove that it didn’t happen” is what Criswell says ending the film. What he says to me is that in a world where absolute power corrupts absolutely, a world where America is randomly invading foreign countries and bombing its inhabitants, the events of the film, the ignorance and violent nature of the American people, isn’t too far from a realm of probability.
But people just laugh at the flying saucer on strings and call it the worst film of all time. Meanwhile they laugh at it and joke about it and they suddenly realize that they’ve had more fun watching and laughing at Ed Wood’s “Plan 9” than they had trying to understand the quasi-intellectual, semi-philosophical crap burger that was “The Matrix Reloaded.” Screw that movie. There’s just so much high level computer generated ultra photo realistic bitmap shading correlated pixel whatever that you can see until you long for a flying saucer model on a string. Does that make sense?
But I always liked “Plan 9 from Outer Space.” I always respected it, like my foreign Woodian counterparts, as a misunderstood work of sociopolitical genius hidden beneath bad sets and strange sentence structure and some bad acting. So I was very excited to go see it live, especially after all the drama on the news about the Big Bish, to try and forget about it, you know? But a day or two before the event, almost everyone who said that they would go completely cancelled on me as a result of many varied Three’s Company-type scenarios that are all funny if only slightly plausible.
Slightly sad, I went alone. And it was the best experience of my life.
It is truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience to see “Plan 9” on the big screen, and I have to be honest here when I say that I cried. At the end. Criswell. And, what’s more, is that there were Woodites there, unplanned, people coming up to me and recognizing that I was Reverend Steve, came into the Crest theater with me to enjoy a holy film. Words cannot express the feelings I had at that theater, even alone. Since then I have been a different man, a stronger man, a man driven by happiness and life and joy. And I believe that this joy, this indescribable feeling of happiness and joy, is the spirit of Ed Wood.
I’ll define what a “spirit” is to me. Here you go …
There is no such thing as a literal spirit. Anyone who feels a spirit somewhere is just a sad person that’s just reaching for things that aren’t there. This goes against what most Catholics believe, that “the holy spirit visited Eshezmeal and did say thus” sort of crap. No.
A spirit is not an actual being you talk about like some sort of bad Charlie Brown Halloween costume. It’s not something that exists, yet you can feel it there near you, inside you.
A spirit is an intangible feeling, an emotion, pure joy and happiness and clarity and warmth. It’s as tangible as the sun or the notes of a classical songs. That is to say, it exists but it’s something your sense, not some sort of bullshit ghost that appears to you and tells you a message.
A spirit is a feeling.
That night, late night at the Crest theater, my heart felt as if some sort of Ed Wood spirit came down from the screen and spoke to my heart, spoke to my soul and, more importantly, told me to get off my ass and create. That was the strong thing that I remember, a feeling as if Ed was telling me “You see that crap up on that screen? Well, what have you done?” He was telling me to create. He was almost taunting me, too, showing me what he did and then asking what I’ve done, what I’ve created. Helping me out. Guiding me.
I remember after the show, walking my long, dark walk back to the car. All the crap about my failed relationships, my family, Bishop O’Brien, my private school upbringing, it all disappeared as I lit a cigarette and looked up to the skies. I could still feel the spirit of creativity, the spirit of film, the spirit of Woodism inside me and all around me. I remember the perfect California night, the stars all dancing as one, and nary a cloud in the sky. It was beautiful and perfect and holy and altogether mine forever and ever. It was as if, say I were to die tomorrow, I would forever be walking to my car after seeing “Plan 9 from Outer Space.” It was beautiful.
I had a vision of life while driving home. My sunroof was open. The Beatles were playing on my crappy tape deck. I had a cigarette and a Red Bull warming me up and cooling me down as I drove on empty streets and empty freeways. Suddenly it was as if my third eye opened up and saw the world for what it really is … a really bad movie.
When I say that all life is is just a really bad movie, I’m not talking “Glen or Glenda” bad. I’m talking “Congo” bad. I’m talking “Batman and Robin” bad. I’m talking big budget summer movie with all the hype and all the press and all the merchandise and all the previews, but when you get right down to it, it’s just the same old recycled crap you’ve seen a million times before.
Life, all of existence and it’s glories, is all just “Bad Boys II.” So just try and make the best of it.
Since that time, I have been preaching Woodism from the rafters, finally ready to become Reverend Steve, the rebellious leader of the shunned masses. So here I am, writing, working, acting, dating, and preparing Woodism for the religion I know it can be. I’m happy, active, mobile.
And soon after the writing of this, it will be the 7th anniversary of the creation of this church, of Woodism and the Church of the Heavenly Wood, seven long, hard, fun, funny years. Seven years of preaching Woodism to a lot of people who hated everything we stood for and a handful of people who understood and stood by us through thick and thin and now have found some semblance of peace and happiness thanks to the works of this church. Seven years, soon to be ten, soon to be fifty, soon to be a hundred. I think it’s possible.
I only wish that you could have been there, walking the streets of downtown Sacramento with me that wonderful night, so that you too could feel the spirit that I felt. And with every ounce of hope in my body I honestly hope and pray that one day you find within yourself the fire, the drive, the creativity and the happiness – that intangible spirit of Wood – that I felt that beautiful night.
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The Church of the Heavenly Ed Wood present the Lessons of Wood, a series of uplifting Ed Wood-related religious sermons written specifically for Woodites by Woodism church founder Reverend Steve Galindo.
LESSON 26: the Holy Sites of Wood
GREETINGS, fellow Woodites everywhere!
And to all you non-Woodites out there, a very special welcome indeed. This is the 26th Lesson of Wood written by Church of Ed Wood creator Reverend Steve Galindo. That's an astounding number - twenty six lessons in about seven years. That's a pretty impressive number of sermons and for any of you reading this who have yet to step upon the crossroads of Woodism, then the Lessons of Wood homepage is the place for you to start your journey. And for those of you who have made it this far in your Lessons of Wood, then this 26th holy Woodian Lesson is going to be a very special one.
This 26th Lesson of Wood, written at the end of October in the year 2003, is a thurough update to an old Lesson of Wood, Lesson 15: the Footsteps of Wood, wherein the first holy spot of Woodism was announced. If you recall, the 15th lesson hereby proclaim that the Circle-Vision section of the Rocket Rods ride in Disneyland to be a holy place within the religion known as Woodism way back in June of 1999, back nefore Disneyland closed down the Rocket Rods ride.
Here is an excerpt from that Lesson ...
"Unfortunately, a few years ago, the Circle-Vision theater in Disneyland has since been closed down. HOWEVER, while waiting in line for the Tomorrowland ride "ROCKET RODS" you pass through the former Circle-Vision theater."
Nice, huh?
Well, the responce was pretty impressive. Since that 15th Lesson of Wood was released, the Church of the Heavenly Wood has been swamped with hundreds upon hundreds of letters and e-mails from people who have been craving more holy spots to be able to visit, places where Ed has walked, places where Bela has laughed and joked, places where Criswell has prophecized, and places where they can go and walk in the footsteps of our lord and savior, the late Edward D. Wood Jr!
Unlike other Lessons of Wood, this very special 26th Lesson will be updated regularly when information on other Holy Sites becomes available. And if you yourself know of any other spots that should be named Holy Places of Wood, feel free to e-mail us at Reverend Steve. And remember, when you walk upon these holy places, say an Ed Wood prayer and remember that you are walking in Ed Wood's footsteps.
In 1947, Ed Wood first arrived in Hollywood, California to pursue his dreams of becoming a major film star. He started a production company called Wood-Thomas Productions and rented an office at this address, the only spot in Hollywood where Hollywood and Sunset Blvd connect. This is a great place to start on a tour of Woodian holy spots, especially since this is the spot where Ed was full of his trademark energy, happiness and optimism.
Eddie's friends used to call this old, rundown apartment complex "Yucca Flats." It was here that Eddie lived until, broke, penniless, he was thrown out on the street, all his movie memorabilia from a life in Hollywood thrown out with the trash, never to return again. This was his last address until he was forced to move in with an actor friend, Peter Coe, which would be his death spot.
The "Yucca Flats" apartment complex still resides there and even to this day it is a bad neighborhood, although not nearly as dirty, run down, and dangerous as when Ed lived there. The place still holds a creepy Woodian vibe, what with this being the place where the city of Hollywood finally broke Ed Wood's spirit.
It was here that Ed and wife Kathy were staying with their friend, actor Peter Coe, and it was here that Ed passed on. This is THE site for those brave Woodites who would like to maker a pilgrimage to a holy Woodian spot. It is here, where Ed passed on, where you have the best chance to truly "feel" the Wood spirit.
Woodian visitors, possibly pulling people's legs/possibly telling the truth, have talked of feeling the restless spirit of Ed upon visiting this place. Therefore, this area is a MUST for any Wood fan hoping to make a holy Woodian pilgrimage.
Ed had a lifelong fear of being buried underground. Therefore, he was cremated in drag as per what some believed to be his wish, as written in his book "Death of a Transvestite." The cremation took place December 18th, 1978 at the Memory Gardens Crematory. Sadly, very few people attended.
Although Ed's ashes were scattered at sea, making the possibility for a concrete "final resting place" site for Woodites to visit absolutely impossible to find, there is a park, a nice, little park at the address of the site of Ed's cremation, called the Memory Garden Memorial Park. This is a wonderful place to visit, smoke a cigarettes, and pay your well-deserved "last respects" to Ed.
This is the Valhallah Memorial Park, a cemetary where a few somewhat famous people are buried, among them Ed Wood's stock actor and good friend Charles Jerome Criswell King, aka. Criswell, the legendary psychic and propheceer, born 1907, died 1982), most well known for his early TV show "Criswell Predicts" and his roles in "Plan 9 (Graverobbers) from Outer Space," "Bride of the Monster" and "Orgy of the Dead." The marker on his wall crypt reads "Criswell Predicts." above his name.
Actor, professional wrestler, and Ed Wood actor Tor Johnson, co-star of Ed's "Plan 9 (Graverobbers) from Outer Space" and "Bride of the Monster," died May 12, 1971 at 10:14 am in San Fernando Valley Hospital in nearby San Fernando, California. Tor's cause of death was listed as congestive Heart failure. He was 67. He was buried at Eternal Valley Memorial Park in Newhall California.
Before meeting Ed Wood, who tried, some might say in vain, to ressurect Bela's career, Bela has some rough times and many personal problems. He was forced, due to money problems, to move into this small little flat at 5620 Harold Way, In Los Angeles. It was here that Bela lives all through his time with Eddie Wood.
Special Note: this is NOT where the "ever beautiful flowers she had planted" scene from "Plan 9" was filmed. That shot, unlike in the biopic "Ed Wood," was in fact shot outside actor Tor Johnson's home.
Legeldary actor Bela Lugosi died from a heart attack in 1956 and was laid out at a very small attended funeral at the now demolished Utter-McKinley Mortuary which WAS located at 6240 Hollywood Boulevard. Hundreds of fans lined Hollywood Boulevard to view his body, laid out in his Dracula cape, per his wishes. Bela was then taken and buried at Holy Cross Cemetery, still dressed in his full Dracula costume.
Much of the filming of Ed's legendary opus took place at a small independent soundstage that was back then called "Quality Studios". Although it hasn't been used as a soundstage for many years, the building stills exists. It is located on Santa Monica Boulevard near Western. The entranceway is located next to the Harvey Hotel.
According to the Rudolph Grey biography "Nightmare of Extacy" the fleeting
exterior shots for Ed's "Plan 9" were shot, to quote a document written by
Ed himself, "... in a cemetary in Sacramento. Tor's son Karl ... said 'You
know that cemetary thing you wanted to do? They're tearing up a graveyard
up here for a building project and it would be a perfect place to shoot.'
So here we go into this graveyard, an old Mexican graveyard that went way
back to before the turn of the century. They wanted to build a complex of
apartment buildings there and were ready to put this high rise there."
Many people wonder why Ed Wood would drive all the way from L.A. to Sacramento to film a few seconds of screen time. Well, Ed, who lived in Hollywood at the time, apparently shot these scenes all the way in Sacramento because he specifically wanted to shoot in a cemetary that was closing down so that he could freely move gravestones, take gravestones down, and thuroughly destory the cemetary to accomadate what he wanted the scenes to look like.
A team of Ed Wood historians from Sacramento have spent months working with Sacramento city historians trying to track down this most holy site. After a thurough investigation, two possible sites in Sacramento, California have been targeted as the possible sites of the filming of Bela's exterior shots in "Plan 9." The first one is the most likely, with the second one being the less possible second location.
The Capital Towers complez is Sacramento's second hi-rise apartment complex ever
built, located right next to the Water Resouces Building. It's planted in the
middle of a bunch of 2 level apartments that was built in the late 50's. The
hi-rise was complete in the early 60's. Plus, it is only a quick jog up the
street 10 blocks and you hit the Old Sacramento City cemetary.
There is no record that has been found yet as to what was located on that spot prior to the building of the complex, so historically it has not yet been proven, whereas possibility "B" has been historically proven as a former cemetary. However, during a recent visit to the spot seemed to spiritually confirm that this is indeed the location.
If you go there, stroll behind the building by the fountain. There's sort of a strange courtyard grassy area with benches in the center of all these mustard yellow, burgandy and brown two level complexes. This place is a very likely candidate for THE SITE where Ed and Bela treked to film about three minutes of footage for "Plan 9".
Beyond the possibility of this being the right spot historically, during a recent visit to this spot, we honestly, literally got chills, almost as if we could feel the spirit of Ed and Bela there with us. If it's the spot, then we should make a brass plaque and attach it to a bench with screws.
Prior to the establishment of the City Cemetery in 1849, burials were conducted in an area not far from Sutter's Fort, but its lower elevation and closeness to the meandering American River caused it to be frequently flooded. The new site's hilly terrain and sandy soil made a better location. The old grounds, however, continued as a privately operated cemetery, named New Helvetia, for some twenty-five years before reverting to the city under the terms of its contract. After that, burials were discouraged, and relatives were
urged to transfer their loved ones.
Over the years tombstones and monuments were removed, vandalized and even stolen. Eventually, in the 1950s, the city authorized the construction of Sutter Junior High School (now Sutter Middle School) on the site, Alhambra Blvd. to 32nd Street, I to J streets. An historical marker can be found at the edge of the sidewalk along Alhambra Blvd. Unclaimed remains were re-interred in a special plot at both City Cemetery and East Lawn on Folsom Blvd.
This might be the spot that Ed shot the scenes with Bela due to Ed's pension for embelishing his stories. Perhaps he didn't shoot in "an old Mexican graveyard" as he was known to tell people, but perhaps that was just a part of his grand embelishing imagination. If this is the case, and the part of his story about the building of an apartment complex was just another part of Ed's embelishment, then this might also be the spot.
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