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By the late Twenties, some young men who were living over on the corner of Lyric and St. George were doing quite well, cranking out cartoons at a studio adjacent to the neighborhood on Hyperion and Griffith Park. Walt and Roy Disney and gilded mouse named Mickey never looked back, although somehow they ended up in Burbank.

Fast forward to just after World War II. The country was buzzing with a new form of entertainment, so ABC bought the studios to produce shows for a gizmo called television. That led to a migration of writers, musicians, producers, grips and other behind-the-scenes people that made the studio hum.

To get to work, these television pioneers didn't need to hop in a car. Instead, they ambled down a series of 14 stairs that bisect the hills and cul de sacs of Franklin Hills like some developer's Hook and Ladder game gone wild.

Today, they offer one of Franklin Hills' greatest pleasures -- early morning and evening strolls up and down these terraced arteries that ribbon through our neighborhood, connecting neighbors who otherwise would never have known one another. Living at the base of one of these stairs, I watch and wave to all manner of locals stroll by, getting a little cardio as they pump up the hill. There's the young blonde and brunette who look like studio mavens, given their designer gear. There's the stay-at-home dad who walks up in late morning with his toddler son strapped to him in a papoose pack, led by their golden retriever. Then there are the young Latino kids from the flats below, who bring their skateboards and moto-x bikes up the hill for a thrill-ride down the steep streets. (Thankfully, I've never seen a wipeout).

Other days, I'll notice my neighbor, Nicola, an octogenarian great grandfather, perched twenty feet up a giant Italian cypress, waving to me as he prunes branches. From the office window of my own home, built in 1940 on a steep section of Clayton Ave, I can also look out to my garden and see a parade of wildlife people drive hundreds of miles to experience. Red tailed hawks, raccoons, coyotes and even a golden eagle perched atop a giant fir tree have been recent visitors.

What we all share in common is we are content denizens of these hills; we thrive here. We love our views of Hollywood and Downtown stretching out below, our curving streets with no sidewalks, our diverse neighbors and relative isolation. Yet at the same time, we remain urban, talking advantage of being within walking distance of our playgrounds of Los Feliz and Silver Lake. Just don't ask me if I actually walk there...I am from LA, you know.

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