By Robert J. Hansen | OBSERVER Staff Writer

California’s reputation as a diverse state belies a painful history. From Hawthorne in Los Angeles County to San Leandro in the East Bay, dozens of cities once enforced “sundown” practices that explicitly barred Black residents and visitors after dark. Some posted signs warning them to leave before nightfall. Others relied on police intimidation, racial housing covenants, or mob violence to keep their cities all-white.

Although the laws and signs are gone, the legacy lingers. Census data show that most of these cities had virtually no Black residents when sundown practices ended. Today, some remain overwhelmingly white, while others have undergone dramatic demographic shifts. Black residents themselves describe the impact not as distant history, but as a lived experience that still shapes where people live and feel safe.

A Statewide Pattern

In Hawthorne, a sign in the 1930s warned, “N——, don’t let the sun set on you in Hawthorne.” Oral histories describe it as a place where Black people were expected to leave before dark “or else.” The city had virtually no Black residents in 1950. Today, Hawthorne is nearly 25% Black.

In Burbank, Black Civilian Conservation Corps workers were barred from remaining in the city after dark during the 1930s and 1940s. The 1950 Census recorded less than 0.1% Black residents.

By 2020, the Black population had grown to about 2.7%. To this day, memories of exclusion remain vivid. “It was understood that Blacks had to be gone by sundown,” one African American in the San Fernando Valley recalled. In 1994, a Black resident told the Los Angeles Times that “traditional, white Burbank held contempt for African Americans.”

Glendale became one of California’s most notorious sundown towns, with police enforcing bans and housing covenants that kept the city all-white well into the 1960s.

In 2020, Glendale became the first California city to formally apologize for its history. Yet Black residents continue to describe alienation. “If you’re Black, they didn’t believe you lived there,” said Tanita Harris-Ligons, who moved to Glendale in 2008. Harris-Ligons co-founded the group Black in Glendale after her son told her in middle school, “There’s nowhere for me to sit” in the cafeteria,” Harris-Ligons told LAist.

The 1960 Census recorded just 0.16% Black residents in Glendale; by 2020, the share had risen to only about 1.7%.

In the East Bay, San Leandro was long nicknamed “Klan Leandro” for its covenants and Ku Klux Klan activity, which persisted into the 1980s. In 1980, just 1.7% of residents were Black. Today, the city is about 10% Black.

Still, racism has not disappeared. In February, Sonia Reed, who had recently bought her first home in San Leandro, discovered “NO BLACK” spray-painted on her fence. “Why am I not welcome here?” she said in an interview with KTVU. The Alameda County Sheriff’s Office was investigating the incident as a hate crime, according to local reports. Comedian and author Brian Copeland also chronicled growing up there in the 1970s in his memoir “Not a Genuine Black Man,” describing harassment so routine it shaped his sense of identity.

Central Valley And Inland California

In Hemet, Black workers were allowed to labor during the day but not permitted to stay overnight. The 1960 Census recorded fewer than 1% Black residents. Today, about 8% of the city is Black. Former athletes recall racial slurs on the playing field as part of Hemet’s exclusionary culture.

In Taft, signs once declared “No Colored Allowed.” Those signs were removed before 1975, when the city had only 0.2% Black residents. Today, the share has grown to about 4%.

Other towns across the state also enforced exclusion. Brea, Chico, El Segundo, Fresno, La Jolla, Palmdale, and San Marino were each identified by historian James Loewen as “surely” sundown towns. 

In 1960, Brea was 0.1% Black; today it is about 2%. Chico grew from 0.3% to 2.4%. El Segundo went from less than 1% to 3%. Fresno doubled from 4% to 8%. La Jolla remains less than 1%. Palmdale has grown the most dramatically, from 1% to 15%. San Marino remains virtually unchanged, rising from 0% to just 0.5%.

Measuring The Change

A comparison of Black populations “then” vs. today highlights both progress and stagnation:

Heat maps showing Black populations in California’s former sundown towns, near zero when restrictions ended, compared with today’s growth of Black populations. Robert J. Hansen, OBSERVER
Heat maps showing Black populations in California’s former sundown towns, near zero when restrictions ended, compared with today’s growth of Black populations. Robert J. Hansen, OBSERVER
  • Hawthorne: 0% (1950) → 25% today
  • Burbank: 0% (1950) → 2.7%
  • Glendale: 0.16% (1960) → 1.7%
  • San Leandro: 1.7% (1980) → 10%
  • Hemet: <1% (1960) → 8%
  • Taft: 0.2% (1970) → 4%
  • Brea: 0.1% (1960) → 2%
  • Chico: 0.3% (1960) → 2.4%
  • El Segundo: <1% (1970) → 3%
  • Fresno: 4% (1960) → 8%
  • La Jolla: 0% (1960) → <1%
  • Palmdale: 1% (1970) → 15%
  • San Marino: 0% (1960) → 0.5%

The Shadow Today

California is no longer a state of sundown towns, but the shadow remains. Some cities, like Glendale, have issued apologies. Others, like San Leandro, continue to confront racist incidents in the present. And in towns such as San Marino and La Jolla, Black populations remain vanishingly small, reflecting the enduring impact of exclusionary pasts.

As Harris-Ligons in Glendale put it: “Glendale wasn’t a place where Black people lived.” Reed’s recent experience in San Leandro shows the same truth, nearly a century after sundown signs first went up: for many Black Californians, the sundown town is not just history. It is an ongoing reality.