I arrived in LA on the afternoon of May 12, 1998 amid rain and low clouds. Sunny California it was not! Leaving LAX in my rental car, I immediately headed towards Downey, with the Newville house to be my first stop. With help from other members of the Newville Avenue list, plus the maps available on the Internet, I had little trouble finding my way – but the traffic was horrendous. After an hour of tapping on the brakes, I finally arrived in Downy and, soon enough, started my turn off of Lubec onto the famous Newville Avenue. I do believe my heart recognized the house before my brain did. I mean, my heart, all of a sudden, started beating away and only then did I realize that my eyes were dwelling on The House - the house I had hoped to see for some 25 years. I slowly drove by and turned around in the cul-de-sac, then parked in the street on the opposite side. It was raining, but I took some pictures, moving the car forward and backwards to get some good shots. I was a bit distressed at the two trash cans sitting out front, and the three cars parked in front blocking some of the view, but I was really thrilled to be there. No, I did not get out and knock on the door, but I was tempted. The house itself was beautiful, being very well maintained all of these years. Though the shutters were now a brown color instead of the charcoal color on the album, the house was a dead ringer for the Now and Then album cover, right down to the TV antenna on the roof.
I might relate a funny story. Years ago, when Now and Then first came out, I fantasized of coming to Downey and driving up and down every street in town in an attempt to find the house! Well, that would have involved a lot of driving, but I now know that had I done that, I would most certainly have been able to recognize the house when I finally came across it. With a final picture, I left Newville and drove on over to Richard's house, a short distance away. I got a little turned around with the weird street patterns and all, but still managed to stumble upon it. Again, it was still raining and there were those blasted trash cans in front of his house, too, ruining my pictures. (And, no, I did not get out and rummage through the cans to get a souvenir! How could even think that I would do such a thing?! Besides, the trash men had already come along and hauled everything away!)
Richard certainly has a very nice house. It was not flashy or huge, but had a nice, inviting front door and porch, with a well-manicured front lawn. Actually, the porch extended on away from the side of the house to the property line, passing over the driveway. The driveway continued on back to the side of the house, which was dominated by a three-car garage. There was no sign of anyone being home, and I didn't even contemplate knocking on his door to see! I took some pictures, getting wet in the process, but it was worth it.
From there, I headed to Forrest Lawn in Cypress, where Karen rests. It was still raining and was after 4 PM when I left Richard's house, and I was become fearful that I might find the place closed at 4:30. I arrived at the gate and asked if they were still open, and the lady there said yes. (Note: the brochure I was given does indeed say they close at 4:30, and it was 4:40 when I arrived, but I had no problems at all.) I then asked where Karen was, and the lady, first saying she wasn't supposed to give out that information, went on and told me she was in the left side of the mausoleum, at the end of the first hallway to the left. Parking in the street in front of the mausoleum, I plodded up and ventured into the left side, protecting my camera with my jacket from the rain. (Note: the camera I took with me on my trip was not my normal 35 mm SLR camera, but a smaller, lighter 35 mm camera with built-in flash, which I took due to its smaller size. Why do I mention this, you ask? Just wait!) I was a tad turned around when I entered the mausoleum and, unexpectedly, I turned into the hallway where Karen rests without realizing it and I found my heart skipping a beat as it recognized, before my brain, where I was and what I was looking at.
It was a bit dim inside and, with the rain and all, was a tad dreary. Soft music was playing in the background. On the floor in front of the crypt were some flowers, with a framed picture of Karen leaning against them, with more flowers up on top of the crypt. The picture was actually made from the inside cover of The Singles album. I was surprised someone would butcher an album cover in that way, but the picture of her, none-the-less, was wonderful to see. I crossed over the chain that has been mentioned in other reports restricting entry to the hallway, and went over to touch the crypt. I was very moved by the experience, realizing that this was the closest I could ever get to her. I had seen her in concert in ’72 and ’73, but was never closer than maybe 75 feet to her. I traced out the golden letters of her name with my fingers, then sat down to look at the flowers and to hold the picture; and to contemplate her life. I thought about the songs she had sung, and the remembrance of "A Song For You" brought tears to my eyes over her tragic death, plus my missing her music so much. I wished that I had been able to meet her in real life, rather than in death.
Well, I left feeling really down, getting wet in the gloomy rain while racing to my car. It was getting late and me, being on eastern time, was getting a bit tired and I was not looking forward to getting back on the interstate and fighting the rush hour, rain-delayed traffic in my 50-some mile journey to Camarillo, where my hotel was. Along the way, stuck in traffic someplace, I had a terrible thought – I may not have had any film in the camera! Aggh!! I had never checked it. Well, it was too late to turn back regardless, so I decided that I would go on to the hotel, wait for nightfall, then in darkness in the bathroom, I would open up the camera and see. Well, to shorten the story, I had, indeed, quite stupidly forgotten the film! (I can laugh about it now, but I was really upset with myself at the time!)
Well, as one who likes to make lemonade out of lemons, I decided that if the weather was better, and if I concluded my next day's business early enough, I would head back to Downey and do it all over again. Fortunately, the next day saw at least some sunshine and my business activities were completed early so, by noon, I started the drive back to Downey. And, yes, I put some film in the camera this time – like I said, this was not the camera I normally use and the frame counter advances regardless of whether film is loaded or not.
Well, I went to Forest Hills first this time. What a difference sunshine makes! This time, I noticed the smell of blossoms in the air as I approached the mausoleum. So, rather than having that gloomy feeling of the previous day, this time I approached the crypt with a feeling of expectation, of almost seeing an old friend again. When I turned down the hallway where she was, it was quite different. The skylight above was flooded with light, and rather than the dark, depressing scene I witnessed before, it was now bright and, well, cheery. Well, at least as close to ‘cheery’ as one can get in a mausoleum. I took my pictures, noting that someone had moved the flowers and picture from the floor to the top of the crypt. I stayed a few moments to, once again, pay my respects and silently thank Karen for the music and legacy that she left.
Leaving Karen behind, I headed back to Downey. I came in from a different way and got a tad turned around and, once again, found my heart recognizing the Newville Avenue home before my brain did, as I was somehow expecting that I still had one more turn to make, but there the house was once again. Today, it was much better. There was only one car out front, and the trash cans were gone so, with the sun out, I got some much better pictures. One thing that stands out from many of these homes is how close they are to the street. It sure made the front door look inviting, but I stayed in my car, content with simply being close to the house. Note that while driving to the house on both days, I was thinking about the thousands of times Karen and Richard had driven these same roads. Sitting out in front of the house, I tried to imagine many of the happy times they experienced just inside those walls; but I also recalled the tragic times, knowing that Karen’s life had left her there. It was a bittersweet experience, but I mostly dwelled on the good. I imagined John Bettis coming by to work with Richard on a new song, and Karen singing it for the very first time. I wondered how many times “the guys” had come by; you know, Tony, Bob, Doug, Cubby, etc. Just think of all the sha la la la's and wo'oh oh oh's that eminated from within that structure!
Finally, with a sigh, I left there for the last time and it was back to Richard's house for some more pictures. Again, there was no sign of life (I was secretly hoping that someone would just happen to come outside, but no such luck.) I thought of writing a note to tell Richard how much I appreciated his efforts and leaving it on his front door, but decided that, should someone do that to me, it would freak me out, so I didn’t. I am a fan, but I want to be a good and respectful fan, so I guess I will simply mail in my thoughts and hope that, somehow, he gets to read the letter! Not that he doesn't already know how his fans feel about him.
I did not really have time to check out their apartments, high school, etc. It would have been fun, but I just didn’t have the time. I did stop at the nearby McDonalds’s and, even though it was either relatively new or refurbished, I still wondered if either Karen or Richard had even stopped by there - at least in their early days.
I am certainly glad I went back to get those pictures. If you go on to look at them, I hope you will appreciate them. Certainly, the trek was interesting and I would encourage any true Carpenter’s fan to repeat it. Viewing her crypt brought some sense of closure to her life, and I am happy that Richard and her parents chose such a nice, peaceful and accessible spot for her. Seeing the Newville house was emotional, as well, and when I returned home I immediately broke out my 25 year old Now and Then album and smiled as I realized that “I was there!.”
Sorry this report is so long, but I hope I was able to convey some of the joy, sorrow and excitement that I felt. The music of the Carpenters has had a profound impact on my life. While some may say that is silly, and others may say I simply had a childish crush on Karen that I should have outgrown years ago, the fact remains that they made wonderful music. They were nice people and they made - and are still making - the world a better place to be. What is so silly about that?
Jeff
See pictures of the Newville Avenue house!
See pictures of Richard's house!
See pictures of Karen's final resting place.
Return to my Karen Carpenter page.