The sign lost the “LAND” part in 1949 after the city took ownership. Over the years, various stunts have altered its appearance for a time, including a few adjustments to make it spell “HOLLYWeeD” in 1976 when California relaxed its marijuana laws. The sign’s instantly recognizable letters seem to show up as a backdrop in every television show and movie about L.A., and have been destroyed in more disaster flicks than I can count.
Along with the Hollywood sign, several other Los Angeles institutions are turning 100 this year, including the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum and the Biltmore hotel downtown. I’ve been collecting readers’ stories about these landmarks for their centennial celebrations, and today I’m sharing what you’ve had to say about L.A.’s most famous sign.
The notes add up to a sort of L.A. history, portraying the Hollywood sign as a site of pranks, a beloved monument to the City of Angels and even an air quality indicator. Here’s some of what you shared, lightly edited:
“When I first moved to Los Angeles at the tail end of the pandemic, I hiked the Wonder View Trail to the Hollywood sign every Saturday morning. I treated it like a meditation, albeit a strenuous one — a way to tell myself ‘this is home now’ and feel connected to my new city. The rainy season ended up derailing my weekly cadence, but the sign still feels like a spiritual home to me. Seeing it, even from below in gridlocked traffic, makes me feel more grounded and centered.” — Jim Fabry, Los Angeles
“I attended Beverly Hills High School from 1969 to 1971, before there were serious efforts to eliminate smog. The front lawn of the school faced the Hollywood Hills, and we used the Hollywood sign as a visual indicator of the air quality: If the quality was good, you could see the Hollywood sign. If the quality was poor, you could see some of the hills, but not as far east as the sign. If the air quality was awful, you couldn’t see the hills at all.” — Eric M. Berg, Redwood City
“When a friend was sick with cancer, she could see the sign from her front window. When she would nap, I would walk the trail to the sign and try to see her house from the top. It had an amazing view. She is sadly gone, but the sign holds dear memories of her in my heart.” — Nancy Raabe, Arlington, Va.