1947 is best known to the Angeleno for the Dahlia, and on the world stage there’s—what—the War for Hebraic Self-Determination, or the Kon-Tiki sailing about, but for America-at-large, 1947 means Roswell.
Crazy things were flying around in our skies all the time, which, fans of little green men will be sorry to hear, were most likely secret US military whatnot. And radio controlled bombings of Burbank were part of that scenario.
(We like to drop bombs. Anglo-Americans killed an estimated 400,000 German civilians with plain ol’ bombs; 40,000 in Dresden town in just a day and a half.)
Here's one now!
And here’s the house in question, as menaced by jetpack-wearing members of Paperclip, and Parsons’ OTO rays, and reversed-engineered alien Buicks, and for our purposes here, radio-controlled Project Sign woefully non-guided torpedos.
The adjacent lot behind 1730, where the damn thing came to earth, has had constructed upon't the 1979 98-unit Villa de los Reyes condoplex…
…wherein the missle landed right about here.