I know the hospital very well. My Dad was a engineer and was working the Chevy Plan at Van Nuys. There were always two to three engines switching the plant. My father was running a Baldwin AS 616 when they thought they were going to have a head on with another engine.
He along with his fireman jumped with the each going a different way. The fireman landed on
solid ground while Dad landed on stacked railroad ties. It was around 1 am and the engine
the crew thought was going to hit them was on the next track. The fireman called for my
Dad and he finally answered him. He was immediately transported to the Santa Fe Hospital in LA.
My Mom received a phone call from SP advising us they were transporting him up to San Francisco to the SP Hospital as he had been hurt. Our family was also told Dad would be coming through the Glendale Station on the Lark. We went over to the station and waited that night for the train and found Dad in the last car lying down in a bed. He sat up and waved to us and all we could see of him was a hospital garment and two black eyes and he was real dirty. I don't think the Santa Fe Hospital ever cleaned him up. Anyway my Mom and I departed Glendale on the Coast Daylight the next day for San Francisco and the hospital.
This was early 1950 as my Mom and I took the electrics over the Bay Bridges to see Berkley while Dad was resting after the surgeries.