In a city filled with multi-million dollar homes and celebrity mansions, Cesar Augusto's home stands out.
The walls are constructed from discarded fences and Augusto's repurposed wooden panels, a tarpaulin serves as a roof, and the vestibule serves as an industrial backdrop for the city's spillway.
Balanced on a thin strip of land between Highway 110 and the Arroyo Seco Spillway, the house is not a home in the traditional sense, but is surrounded by a white lattice fence and window shutters beneath a grove of trees. The rectangular shelter appears above the waterway like part of a wood-clad suburban cellar, with a sign near the entrance that reads:Torcia Bridge” or “Stay sharp.”
Augusto uses a ladder to climb the steep wall of the waterway to reach a makeshift shelter. This is another example of the extreme measures taken by many Angelenos struggling to find a place to live in one of the most expensive housing markets in the country.
Unhoused people in Los Angeles sleep on the streets, in small government-built hamlets, or in tents in converted hotels. People like Augusto with construction skills and a little ingenuity build their own shelters on unused or abandoned land whenever they can occupy it.
Augusto, 43, came to Los Angeles from Guatemala about 20 years ago. He had worked as a house painter throughout Los Angeles County for 15 years, but after his employer passed away five years ago, he struggled to find work.
“We didn't have enough to survive, and it became increasingly difficult to pay for a place to live,” Augusto said in Spanish as he stood on a concrete channel that carried runoff water to the Highland Park neighborhood. He spoke at
In recent days, several television crews have visited his riverside community and asked him and his neighbors about their lifestyle. Augusto doesn't understand what all the fuss is about. He's just trying to keep a roof over his head.
Reporters have recently focused on Augusto's neighbor, Alejandro Diaz, who has built a much more elaborate shelter than Augusto. The shelter features a bright yellow façade, plants, solar panels, and a concrete path leading to the front door. Shelters emerge above the flood waves, like beach huts plucked from coastal towns.
One reporter described Diaz's home as having “riverside charm,” while other news articles highlighted the camp's ingenuity during the ongoing homeless crisis.
Los Angeles City Councilman Eunice Hernandez, who grew up in Highland Park and represents the area where Augusto lives, said there aren't enough housing options to accommodate everyone experiencing homelessness in the city. said.
Hernandez's office said in a statement that he “considers this current situation unacceptable and is working to urgently address this crisis with short- and long-term solutions.”
“Our support team is working to urgently find housing for the people living at this campsite and address the safety concerns posed by this structure and its proximity to the river.” Mr. Hernandez talked about the housing that has been attracting attention recently.
Augusto's shelter has been in place for at least four years, but he doesn't recall anyone from the city visiting in recent days, and there have been no problems with authorities trying to remove him from the site. Still, he knows other unhoused residents were left temporarily without shelter when the city conducted encampment sweeps.
Seven homeless Angelenos sued the city after their belongings were destroyed during encampment sweeps in 2018 and 2019, according to the complaint. A federal judge recently ruled that the city likely faces sanctions because it falsified evidence to support its defense in the lawsuit.
Augusto's shelter along the Arroyo Seco is relatively simple, but he values the things that make it feel like home. He reuses objects and materials he finds on the streets and in trash cans, such as ropes, fences, window shutters, and dishwashing buckets. He admits that his setup requires effort, and now that they've been living together for almost a year, his girlfriend is helping him out.
A few yards away is Diaz's home, with its striking yellow façade.
French doors cover the entrance, next to which are solar panels and a red refrigerator powered by batteries strong enough to keep a carton of almond milk cold. The canal below serves as a sink for some local residents, who use the murky water to wash their hands and clothes. Gnarled tree branches act as clotheslines.
Between Diaz and Augusto's shelter there is a rope hammock and a drum set for video games, but there are no televisions or game consoles to play them. Instead of a shingled roof, a faded tarp is draped over the building and dangles over your head while you sleep at night.
“People give up on these things,” Augusto said, pointing to his shelter.
Occasionally, I find a day job, but it is not a steady source of income. He sighed and pointed to the spillway.
“Esta Tranquillo,” he said. “It's calm here.”
He built a temporary shelter on the ledge of a concrete waterway while many people across the region are facing hardship. Roughly four in 10 renters in Los Angeles County live in fear of becoming homeless, according to a recent study from the Luskin School of Public Affairs at the University of California, Los Angeles.
The elusive promise of homeownership has become a major goal for a wide range of Southern Californians, with the average home price at $869,082, according to the latest data from Zillow. According to the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development, the median rent for a one-bedroom apartment in Los Angeles in 2024 will be more than $2,000 a month.
Nearly 30% of Americans who experienced at least one night of homelessness in January 2023 were in California, according to a federal count released in December.
Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass declared a state of emergency regarding homelessness shortly after taking office in December 2022. The mayor's first budget allocated $1.3 billion to address the growing crisis, with the number of people living on the streets increasing by 80% since 2015. It is estimated that there are 46,000 homeless people in the city of Los Angeles.
The problem is illustrated by the growing number of homeless communities in vacant lots across the city: under freeway ramps, in RVs lined up on curbs, and in encampments on and around green spaces.
Augusto's Refuge is not unique along the Arroyo Seco River, as many other dwellings have sprung up along the Arroyo Seco River.
One Arroyo Seco resident was a woman named Socorro, who said she had to move out of the Lincoln Heights apartment she shared with her boyfriend because she lost her job at a market in Mexico. According to her, the couple lived on the street for several months, and one morning she woke up to find that her boyfriend and her belongings were gone.
“I found some lovely people here by the river and the highway,” she said as we walked along a channel where river stones break through the concrete.
About a mile away is the Arroyo Seco Tiny Home Village, which has 117 cabins that serve as transitional housing. Two other small villages in the council district represented by Councilman Kevin de Leon are similarly intended to serve as stepping stones to permanent housing. Mr. de Leon's office did not respond to requests for comment about the encampment along the Arroyo Seco River.
Despite recent spring storms, the water from the steep spillway has not come close to Augusto's home. Augusto said a group of volunteers descends on the river community every Sunday to bring food, but he can't remember which church they belong to or if they're local from the neighborhood.
Highway 110 continues to be a constant hum as the quiet sound of water passes by the Arroyo Seco River.
On a sunny afternoon in April, a thin man in his mid-40s wearing a gray shirt and jeans rode his bicycle past Augusto's house and called out his name. He walked to Augusto's front door and the two spoke in hushed voices.
Mr. Augusto nodded and ducked to leave, but returned a second later and handed the man the frying pan. Perhaps a loan or a gift to a fellow Angeleno who is struggling after losing their home. The man took it in his hand and headed towards his shelter with a smile on his face.