English: This lot is part of the old Hollywoodland subdivision, which is why the Hollywood sign originally said, "Hollywoodland." The undeveloped property was located on a disconnected stretch of the legendary Mulholland Highway, 400' from a paved road. The original owner of the lot was sculptor Richard W. Bock who lived in Chicago and was a neighbor, good friend, and collaborator with famed architect Frank Lloyd Wright. Bock's daughter, Dorathi Bock Pierre, had arranged for the purchase of the lot in 1927, but her father never got to build on it. Dorathi inherited it in 1949.

In 1980, while living in Paris, I wrote a fictional story about a photographer who designs and builds his house on an irregularly shaped lot in an old subdivision in the Hollywood Hills. In the story, the lot is also 400 feet from a paved road, surrounded by a wilderness area, and looks toward the ocean. I forgot about the story, and in 1981 moved to Los Angeles, where a friend had found a house for me to rent. The house was at 2408 Hollyridge Drive in Hollywoodland and I could see the Hollywood Sign in the distance.

I moved to Texas in 1982, but after a brief trip to L.A. in April 1986, a string of coincidences convinced me to move back. On that trip I found out the lot was privately owned by a certain Dorathi Bock Pierre. I sent her a postcard asking if she wanted to sell it. I arrived back on my birthday, April 27, 1986, and there was a postcard from Pierre waiting for me. When I called her she asked me what I did for a living. "I'm an artist and a building designer," I said.

"That's the right answer twice," she said. "I can only sell it to an artist, because of my father, or an architect because of Frank Lloyd Wright."

When I went to her house to discuss the purchase, I happened to mention that I first noticed her lot when I briefly lived at 2408 Hollyridge Drive back in 1981 and used to hike past the lot, mistakenly assuming it was part of Griffith Park. "Well, I lived at 2408 Hollyridge when I found that lot for father!" she exclaimed.

I was incredulous, but she quickly produced photographs from 1927 showing the front yard of the house and the view toward the sign with a Model T coming up the street. I told her I had a photograph showing the same view, but with a Volkswagen coming up the street. We sealed the deal that day with a promissory note and she said, "Now hurry up and build your house so I can see it!"

When I paid back her loan she took the money and published her father's autobiography, "Memoirs of an American Artist." Dorathi, born in 1900, died in 1996, and we were close friends until the end.

There are many other incredible synchronicities in this story, but it is too much to recount here.