Walt Disney's house for sale

Walt Disney's handsome four-bedroom house and its grounds are up for sale in Los Feliz, a neighborhood in east LA. Disney had the house built to his specifications and occupied it from 1932 to 1950. The list price is $3.65M, not bad for a house that's pretty beautiful, on a big piece of land in the middle of a hip (and generally fun) neighborhood.

The House That Mickey Built: Walt Disney's Estate in Los Feliz (curbed.com)

Walt Disney LA Home 4053 Woke Way (Realtor's site)

(Thanks, Mike!)


  1.  East L.A.?  Not even close.

    In the extras on some of the Walt Disney Presents DVD’s there is lots of footage of Walt, his family, friends and employees enjoying the swimming pool at this house.  The little cottage playhouse he had built in the backyard for his girls, Diane and Sharon, is still in the backyard.

    1. Naw, Northeast Hollywood or North Silver Lake.  West Silver Lake is, like, East Hollywood.  And it’s on the wrong side of the river to be Lower Glendale, if you ask me.

      But the point is that East L.A. is directly east of downtown, whereas Los Feliz is north-northwest of downtown.  

  2. Oh MAN I want that place.  Just imagine the secret passageways and other weird shit you might find in a house like that.

  3. Looks like they ripped out the tracks for the miniature train that used to run around the edge of the property (the inspiration for the Disneyland train)…pity…

    The train itself can be seen at the Disney Family Museum at the Presidio in SF…a rather expensive museum (it’s Disney, after all!), but worth it.

    1. You’ve got the wrong house.  The train was at his Carolwood Drive home in Holmby Hills.  After he died the tracks were given to the L.A. Live Steamers in Griffith Park.  The backyard barn at Carolwood where Walt tinkered and ran his miniature railroad now resides next to the Live Steamers area (which is next to Travel Town) in Griffith Park and is open to the public for free one weekend per month.  Google “Walt’s Barn” for info.

  4. Thank you, Gary. That living room is an abomination. Handsome? Beautiful? Gag.

    Oh…wait. Are we being ironic? In that case: Hey, check out that living room. That is sweeeet. That is some next-level shiitake there. Sign me up.

  5. Presumably that’s not Walt’s interior decor, sixty years later. That’s some OH-gly mismatched sofa, lamp and carpet action. Looks like it was decorated out of Walmart. it could probably be nice with some decent furniture and some color on the walls.

  6. “The list price is $3.65M, not bad for”

    The list of things that $3.65M is “not bad for” might begin with “a house,” but it’s going to go on for a long time after that.  $3.65M is “fuck you” money for a house, no matter how fun the neighborhood is!

  7. I grew up in this house ages 3-13.
     1950-1960. The house is on the edge of Griffith Park near the Greek
    theater (we walked to the theater) and Observatory (my dog and I walked there
    nearly every afternoon to see the Tesla Coil, Camera Oscura, or the Planetarium
    show, and into the park and its wild landscape.  My father made up
    wonderful stories about different trees in the Griffith Park woods an the
    creatures that lived in the water tanks. The house didn’t have the fussy brick
    walls on the driveway — less urban and more relaxed and countryside. There
    were sweeping trees – light woods – around the house – spruce, eucalyptus, what
    else?  and shrubs to hide in,
    honeysuckle vines. The house had three acres then. Half was a wild canyon where
    foxes lived. And half little gardens and a lawn that swept down the hill to a
    huge pool with old style gutters and swimming lanes. Thre was a three car
    garage to serve as the neighborhood’s haunted house and a rim on the outside
    for basketball competitions. When my runaway basketball shots went down the
    driveway they rolled down Woking Way, down Amesbury, and sometimes to Los
    Feliz. The house was not white inside (I heard it had been painted white, my
    parents were sad), I hope the Italian mural on the turret ceiling is still
    there, the handpainted Chinese wallpaper in the dining room, the stained glass
    poets in the library leaded windows. The hallways were painted celadon, the
    library was oak box panels and the walls almost teal, the living room was also
    paneled. Doweled wide planck walnut floors. The Disneys lived there with heavy
    draperies and art from the studio. The furniture was covered in Morris Louis
    fabrics — and large with down cushions. Carved oak dining room. Country pine
    breakfast table. A room for the maid. My parents took down all curtains and we
    lived with sun, Japanese art and paintings by contemporary California artists.
     Kept some Disney comfy sofas (my mother loved Morris Louis), introduced
    Korean chests and low glass topped tables and modern chairs that would fit in a
    Rudolph Schindler house. The maid’s room became an art studio. Sunday’s on the
    Terrace (brunches for a dozen to 30) with Aldous Huxley or Helen Gahagan
    Douglas, or democratic organizational meetings — and jazz and ballet. A
    rambling house with secret corners to grow up in, a house of books and ideas
    and discussion.  

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