LOS ANGELES — Robert deVico can’t help but laugh at the irony: A 1920s advertisement for his Hollywoodland neighborhood lured homebuyers by promising sylvan hills “above the traffic laden arteries, congestion, smoke and fog of the metropolis” and branded the community with a giant mountainside sign.
“It can take me 40 minutes to get out of my driveway. What if I had an emergency with my child?” sputtered the production designer, who bought his house 12 years ago. “It’s like being in Times Square.”
Featuring postcard-perfect close-ups of the iconic sign, this tranquil neighborhood of winding roads dotted with hideaway homes and panoramic vistas always has drawn a smattering of sightseers angling to get a souvenir shot or seeking to climb to the sign itself.
It wasn’t a problem until two years ago, when GPS and Internet maps started giving directions to the sign, allowing tourists to easily navigate a maze of narrow streets, dead-man’s curves and tiny cul-de-sacs.
Now, scores of tourists pour into the neighborhood daily in rental cars and tour vans, causing safety hazards and headaches such as sheared off fire hydrants, fender-benders and blocked driveways as well as noise, trash and car exhaust at four main picture-taking vistas.
The succinct message recently painted on a dirt patch - “tourists go away” - sums up the sentiments of many residents.
“This neighborhood just wasn’t built for this,” said Sarajane Schwartz, president of the Hollywoodland Homeowners Association. “We’re pretty much at the end of our rope.”
The builders of the 1923 sign, which today just spells out “Hollywood” in higgledy-piggledy metal letters 45 feet tall by 37 feet wide, could hardly have imagined how it would become a symbol the world over not only of a city, but also of the pursuit of larger-than-life dreams of fame and fortune.
The sign was erected by the Hollywoodland Real Estate Group as an epic billboard for its upscale housing development - the original sign spelled out the entire name. In 1949, the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce restored the rusting monument but dropped the last syllable.
The sign, which has appeared in countless TV shows and movies, draws sightseers from around the world. Many are disappointed that they cannot walk to the letters, which are protected from vandals and the curious with a 24-hour surveillance camera and fence.
If tourists try to climb the hill, a guard yells at them through a megaphone, another annoyance for local residents, along with low-flying helicopter tours and microphone-narrating tour guides.
Star City Tours guide Tim Eggers, who brings his tour van to Mr. deVico’s ridge-top road, said he often is hassled by neighbors, but he noted that DeRonda Drive is a public street.
“This is an international landmark. They should have thought of that before they bought their houses,” he said. “My job is to get tourists the best shot, and this is it.”
Tourists remain largely oblivious to the havoc, saying they figured residents were used to it. Most said they were just planning to stay long enough to snap a photo and didn’t want to bother anyone.