Land: Russian
Molokans say it is comforting to know they will be buried in landmark
graveyard. Developers seek to buy it.
By HUGO MARTIN
TIMES STAFF WRITER
|

Photos by AL SEIB / Los
Angeles Times
Women in traditional dresses wander through the Russian
Molokan Cemetery after attending the funeral of an elderly church
member. |

Danny Kanavalov and son
Josh, of Bakersfield, walk through the graves at the Russian Molokan
Cemetery in the City of Commerce. |
EIGHTY-FOUR-YEAR-OLD Shasha
Tolmachoff lives in Glendale, Ariz., but plans that when she dies, she
will be buried in the City of Commerce, in the same dusty parcel where
generations of Russian Molokans including her parents and in-laws have
been laid to rest.
"It's very comforting to be with them," said
the retired homemaker as she walked gingerly around the tightly packed
tombstones at the Russian Molokan Cemetery on Slauson Avenue after
attending the funeral of an elderly church member.
Tolmachoff is a member of a little-known
Christian sect that broke away from the Russian Orthodox Church in the
1600s. About 60% of America's church-going Molokans--about 3,000
people--live in Los Angeles. [Descendants of
Molokans in LA County number over 20,000]. Molokan Since
1941, most of them have been burying their ancestors at the Slauson
cemetery, sandwiched between a paper factory and a warehouse.
The 14-acre graveyard has about 2,500 graves
and space for thousands more, free to dues-paying church members. Two
smaller Molokan cemeteries in East Los Angeles are too small or too
full to absorb many more graves.
In recent years, as commercial development has
surrounded the Slauson cemetery and vacant land in Commerce has become
scarce, banks and real estate firms have clamored to buy and develop
the cemetery or its vacant 10 acres for nearly a half-million dollars
an acre.
But the six Molokan churches that own the
property have rejected all offers outright.
"If our people have put our blood, sweat and
tears into this land, why move?" said Alex Goosseff, president of the
Molokan Cemetery Assn. |
he
obscure cultural landmark is one of Southeast L.A. County's most
desirable industrial sites because of its central location and easy
access to the Santa Ana, Long Beach and San Gabriel River freeways.
"If they were to put it on the market today, I
could get them $10 a square foot. No problem," said Jeff Stephens, an
associate with CB Richard Ellis real estate. That translates to about
$435,000 an acre.
The City of Commerce has "virtually zero [vacant] land available" and the vacancy
rate for developed property is below 5%, he said. Because of that,
Stephens said industrial firms would be willing to pay top dollar.
"Never, never," answers Alex Tolmas, the
cemetery's caretaker. "This cemetery will be here for a long time."
Tolmas estimates that there is enough vacant
land in the northeastern portion of the cemetery to serve the Molokan
community for the next 200 years. That gives the church plenty of years
to keep leasing five acres of its vacant land as a parking lot for
big-rig trailers.
The Molokan name comes from the Russian word
"molok(o)," which means milk. The
followers of the sect distinguished themselves by drinking milk instead
of wine in religious ceremonies.
The Molokans have been compared to
Protestants, for rejecting the parent church's orthodoxy, and also have
been likened to Presbyterians for having lay ministers and a loose
council of dominant elders.
In about 1906, thousands of Molokans left
Russia to escape religious intolerance and the threat of the military
draft, which violates their religious principles. Church prophets
instructed the Molokans to migrate to "the promised land." But the
prophecy was not clear on an exact location, so some members ended up
settling in Baja California where they established a small community
known as Valle de Guadalupe. Others migrated to Northern and Central
California. The majority, however, settled in East Los Angeles. |
fter
the smaller Molokan cemetery in East Los Angeles filled up, church
elders bought the land for the Slauson Avenue cemetery in 1941. At the
time, the property around it was undeveloped farmland. The first
tombstones were set nearly 12 years before the nearby Santa Ana Freeway
was built and about 19 years before the City of Commerce was
incorporated.
Starting in the 1970s, light industrial
businesses began to dominate the landscape.
Molokan church members say they have become
accustomed to burying their deceased loved ones only a few feet from
the churn of business, and some nearby workers say they have come to
appreciate the large, elaborate funerals.
During a recent, funeral, a large congregation
of Molokans from throughout Southern California gathered near the
casket to sing songs in Russian. The sound of big-rigs along Slauson
almost drowned out the voices.
The men wore white pullover shirts or kosovorotkas
with high buttoned collars and tasseled cord belts around their waists.
The women wore lacy head shawls, or kosinkas, and white dresses with
aprons, often adorned with lace.
The service ended with several church elders,
most wearing long beards, walking arm-in-arm to their cars, singing in
unison.
"These people feel that if my grandfather was
buried here and my family members are buried here, I will be buried
here," cemetery association president Goosseff said. "So, we feel very
close to the people here."
[This article seems to be a clever
public relations ploy by the real estate agency to try to reach younger
Molokans and tell them that the elders who run the churches and
cemetery are financially foolish not to sell.]
|