Stepping out of a dingy motel office shielded by security bars, Lily Ho held up a faded and torn photograph. It showed the building shortly after it opened south of downtown Los Angeles in 1947.
Back then, the Hayes Motel was sleek, modern and clean.
The one Ho stood outside of this spring is a heap of peeling paint, crumbled plaster and signs that warn, “No drugs. No Prostitution. No loitering. No Trespassing.”