Divided and Unified: Serbian United Benevolent Society and Cemetery

"I know it's been here since I was a kid in the 60s, but since we were kids we've never seen anyone get buried in there," said Jose Ramirez, a customer at Clement's Car Wash on Third street. He stared at the cemetery across the street, scratching his head. His friend Flo, who was also born and raised in the area, agreed. "Sometimes there will be a truck parked under that tree," he said, pointing across the street, "but I've never seen anyone go in or out."

The two argued that what is even more puzzling than the apparent emptiness of the cemetery is its placement in the heart of this neighborhood. Another East L.A. resident, Albert, who declined to give his last name but works in a nearby automobile repair shop, said he has driven by the cemetery almost every day for years. The first thought that always comes to his mind? "That's the most random place to put a cemetery," he chuckled.

Many of these cemeteries were developed by benevolent societies whose goals included providing a more intimate community within the multicultural society. The Serbian United Benevolent Society (SUBS) was one of them. George Salata, the president of SUBS, explained that when the organization was first founded, members had access to health insurance policies. Today's approximately 220 members no longer have that benefit, but they share a sense of community through annual events, fundraisers and funerals at the cemetery. Although the Serbian community may seem sparse in East L.A., Salata estimates there are around 300,000 Serbs in Southern California, many of whom used to live in the area and have since dispersed to other cities.

Many people who live in this neighborhood are unaware of its history. Ramirez claims to have never knowingly met a Serbian person in the area. He offered his perspective on the subject, saying "back in the day this was a melting pot, right here. They had Russians, a lot of Japanese-Americans, now they've moved to Monterey Park," he said.

A melting pot might be just the right way to put it. By the late 1880s, East L.A. was home to a diverse group of ethnic minorities. The railroad industry boomed, creating high demand for a hardworking labor force. African-Americans settled in and comprised an increasingly large part of the workforce, as well as Chinese and Japanese people who didn't live in Chinatown, Italians, Germans, French, and later Russians and Armenians, who were escaping tyranny in their homelands, a PBS article said. After World War II, an influx of Jewish immigrants moved to the Eastside to avoid persecution and established a strong community.

Following the Mexican Revolution, the already prominent Mexican-American population flourished and took over, leading many other ethnic groups to disperse to other parts of Los Angeles. Events like Pearl Harbor lead to the Japanese-American community separating, and anti-Semitism remained in some parts of the city, forcing Jewish residents out as well, the same article said.

"I think at the time there was so much violence, and people were dying left and right, they needed places in East L.A. to put them all," Albert said.

While some community gathering places that were representative of these dwindling cultures were replaced, the cemeteries could not be.

Ulysses Hernandez, who works at the car wash, joked about visitors who come into town for a funeral and ask him for directions. "We have Jewish, we have Asian, we have Latino, we have American, what are you looking for?"