HOLLYWOOD — The following letters respond to recent reporting in The Times. They have been edited for length and clarity.

Regarding “The Walk of Fame Gets Its First New Panel” (May 13): I was at that ribbon-cutting, and I have the sunburn to prove I stayed for the speeches. The band was lovely. The scissors were enormous. And I have now watched this city launch the same sidewalk with a ceremony more than once. “Within the year” is a phrase I would like the council to sign in blood. My shop has lost a foot of frontage to that fencing before, and I would trade every marching band in the district for a finished panel and an open sidewalk in front of my door. — Estelle Wichmann, Hollywood Boulevard

Your account of the skate-park hearing (“Promised Skate Park Under the 101 Draws Frustration at Council Hearing,” March 19) understated how tired we are. Staff are supposed to come back to the council with a real schedule this month. I have circled the date, as I circled the last one. My daughter learned to skate in a friend’s driveway because the lot the city owns has sat behind a fence her entire childhood. I am not asking for a miracle. I am asking for concrete — the kind you pour, on a date you keep. — Dominic Farr, East Hollywood

I read that the Runyon Canyon 10K would not return this spring (“Effort to Revive the Runyon Canyon 10K Stalls Again,” April 25) and found I couldn’t be angry about it. I have run that hill for twenty years, race or no race, and the organizers are right that the canyon belongs to the hikers and the dogs as much as to us. Do it properly next year or don’t do it. But somebody should tell the newcomers what they’re missing: a start before the crowds, a climb that humbles everyone equally, and a finish where strangers cheer you up the last pitch. It’s worth the wait. Probably. — Priscilla Nakagawa, Beachwood Canyon

Months after your report on the crews leaving town (“A Thin Year on the Call Sheets Leaves Hollywood Crews Doing the Math,” Oct. 15), it has reached my kitchen table. My husband has gaffed in this city for twenty-two years. This spring he took a job in Georgia and calls us on Sundays. We are not a tragedy — we will be fine — but multiply us by every crew house on our block and you’ll understand why the neighborhood feels quieter. The city keeps talking about incentives. My children would settle for their father home for dinner. — Lena Ostrowski, Franklin Village