Los Angeles started as a sleepy pueblo in a misty basin that gave rise to one of the most famous cities in the world. A city that shapes the narrative of not only the lives of many Americans, but fosters hope and dreams for millions of people around the world. Los Angeles is a place to follow your heart, tell your story, and become a star. Not but a mile from the founding statue of that original pueblo, in the shadow of LA’s iconic skyline, is a truth that Angelenos (new and old) refuse to recognize. A truth that has seeped out of it’s designated corner and onto to every street in the county. From the star sparkled streets of Hollywood to the sandy shores of Venice - “from the south bay to the valley, from the west side to the east” - Los Angeles is home to the homeless, the desuetude, the sick, the lost, and the desperate. Men, women, children live in tents, shanty homes, encampments, cardboard boxes, under bridges, at bus stops, metro stations and for 100 years have called Skid Row their home. Of the 58,000 people living without a permanent residence in LA, about 1 quarter live in this 4 block area downtown. Drug ridden, dangerous, gang controlled, filthy, and the last only option for so many, Skid Row is our shame and our reality. But the people who spend their nights and their days on skid row are just that, people. Here I’ll be collecting my experiences with them as I work on a documentary about the world of Skid Row. As I walk down San Pedro, up 6th street, and wind past the tents on San Julian, and across Wall Street, I’ll share the stories of the people I meet, young and old, and do my best to let their voices be heard.