A band of retirees is leading a grassroots cleanup movement across Los Angeles, reclaiming city streets—and their social lives—one bag of trash at a time.
At a Glance
- Volunteers Cleaning Communities has 250 active members
- The group conducts cleanups six days a week across the San Fernando Valley
- Most members are retirees in their 60s and 70s
- Cleanups are followed by social gatherings like coffee meetups
- The group collected 55 bags of trash in one recent outing
A Mission in Neon
At 8 a.m. near the G Line station in Canoga Park, a neon-clad unit of volunteers assembles like clockwork. With trash bags in hand and grabber tools at the ready, the group—led by 76-year-old Jill Mather—marches into action along a mile of Sherman Way, targeting everything from vape canisters to Q-tips. Mather, a former executive with military-like precision, directs the cleanup like a seasoned commander.
Volunteers Cleaning Communities (VCC), one of Los Angeles’ largest cleanup organizations, operates six days a week. With 250 active members and a newsletter that reaches 3,000, VCC has expanded across the city with branches in Brentwood, Santa Monica, and the East Valley. Each session ends with a visit to a nearby coffee shop, where talk of birthdays, upcoming trips, and shared memories fills the air.
Watch now: ‘Volunteer Cleaning Communities’ clean up the San Fernando Valley
https://www.latimes.com/00000198-f826-d52a-a9fb-fb2f3fe50000-123?utm_source=chatgpt.com
Trash, Therapy, and Transformation
Behind the grabber tools and neon vests lies something deeper: connection. For many members, VCC is more than a civic duty—it’s an emotional lifeline. Alan Aaronson, 71, joined after the death of his wife and now attends three to four cleanups a week. Danny Sinclair, 75, moved to California knowing only his son and now refers to VCC as his “new family.”
Members gather for game nights, go hiking in the Santa Susana Mountains, and even embark on cruises together. For retirees like Ann LaManna, 70, the act of picking up trash offers a sense of empowerment in a city where disorder often seems rampant. “You feel like you can do something,” she said.
The loss of fellow volunteer Cash Vandervort, who died at 86 without close family, underscored the group’s emotional cohesion. Members wore pins bearing his image and were by his side at the hospital when he passed.
Beautification as a Way of Life
VCC volunteers aren’t just casual helpers—they’re specialists. Claudine Singer, 72, commutes from Simi Valley five days a week, armed with knee pads and a metal claw to scrape out gutters. “Beautification is in my blood,” said the former interior designer.
Mather runs the group with a personal touch, awarding pins for 25 cleanups, organizing holiday parties, and even handing out birthday presents. “You have to treat volunteers better than employees,” she explained.
Sources
