Crazy Little City

Contrary to images evoked by its name, Hawaiian Gardens is probably not a place where you would want to spend your vacation.

There are no hula girls in Hawaiian Gardens, no romantic bistros, no charming boutiques, no moonlight cruises and precious little peace.

There is, however, the Bingo Club, Little Caesar’s Pizza, the 99 Cents Store and possibly one of the most combative city councils in L.A. County.

It is the latter to which I was attracted, much as one is drawn to a wrestling match between one-armed midgets.

I sure as hell didn’t go to Hawaiian Gardens for its ambience.

What piqued my interest was a report that two female members of the council, while not exactly pinning each other to a mat, did duke it out in a hallway.

I do not mean that metaphorically. There was shoving, poking, grabbing, kicking and possibly punching, depending on who is telling the story.

I had never heard of such goings-on between city council members, although in L.A. a few years ago, Zev Yaroslavsky did invite the late Gil Lindsay to “have it out” with him during a council debate.

Lindsay, 87 and feeble, wisely declined.

In another incident of civic chaos, this time in lovely Pomona, the town’s mad dog community activist was dragged from a council meeting for accusing the mayor of flashing her panties in public, but that proved more comedic than violent.

The mayor said later that if she were going to show her panties to anyone, it would not be to him.

Hawaiian Gardens is not your usual kind of municipality. Less than a square mile in size, and with only 13,639 residents, it should probably be a neighborhood rather than a city.

You may have passed through it once on your way to somewhere else and not have even known you were in Hawaiian Gardens.

Such is the nature of its dreariness that when its residents talk about going to the big city for excitement, they’re talking about Bellflower.

What makes Hawaiian Gardens unique is that its government is in a continual state of upheaval.

In 1989, all five members of its council tried to recall each other, and while the movements fizzled, a lusty spirit of acrimony was born.

Last year, the mayor and vice mayor resigned their posts amid charges they used city funds to build a fence at their mobile home park.

In the past five years, six city administrators have either quit or been fired, and some ran screaming from the city, never to be seen again.

Currently, three members of the council are being recalled and a fourth is being considered for recall.

Simultaneously, a citizens’ committee has announced its willingness to throw just about everyone out.

While Hawaiian Gardens (not to be confused with Madison Square Garden) calls itself “A Little City with a Big Heart,” one source refers to it as a city in hell, another as an open-air nut house.

I like to think of it as the place where Lennie fought Kathy.

I am referring of course to the two Hawaiian Gardens council members who duked it out one day.

Lennie is a nickname of the widow Helen Wagner, who is 65, legally blind and has a bad heart. Lennie owns a dog kennel. She is in the blue corner.

Kathy is Kathleen Navejas, 36, who is said to be tough and quick-tempered. Kathy owns a bridal store. She occupies the red corner.

Kathy outweighs Lennie, but Lennie has the reach.

According to published accounts, Kathy claims that Lennie started the fight by smacking a cup of coffee from her hand, then jabbing her with a pencil and kicking her with her cowboy boots.

Kathy declined my invitation to discuss the encounter, but Lennie accepted. We met amid the barking dogs of her Mingodell Kennels.

According to Lennie, Kathy initiated the conflict by grabbing her, pouring a cup of coffee on her and punching her.

“It’s nonsense that I kicked her with my cowboy boots,” she said, peering out from behind slanted, black-rimmed glasses. “I don’t even own cowboy boots.”

Exactly what they were fighting about remains a mystery. It may have involved “something said” about a former acquaintance of Lennie’s, then again it may not have.

Kathy claims hostilities developed three days earlier when Lennie “flipped me off.” To those unfamiliar with the lexicon of the street, the phrase refers to the extension of one’s middle finger in the direction of an enemy.

It is also known as the feminist salute.

Lennie regrets the fracas. “It’s tacky and unladylike to have councilwomen fighting,” she said. “I wasn’t raised to kick and scratch.”

Then she sighed and added in the true spirit of an exasperated Rodney Dangerfield, “You get no respect in Hawaiian Gardens.”

I’ll say.