My wife's aunt and cousin lived in a small apartment building at the base of that bridge as it came into Long Beach, and I can't see that picture without thinking of them. Her cousin was a real Palooka, a handyman who didn't work as often as he worked. We would stand around in his backyard by his tool shed and have beers, I'd bum cigarettes off him. He was very much like Bukowski, similar attitude, similar mannerisms, except he was better looking, an old 1940s pretty boy gone to seed, and he didn't write. He did paint a bit and had some luck selling his pictures. They were usually south seas beach scenes. I wrote a pair of long stories about the guy, one of which has been published. "Shopping for George" I think it was called. Anyway, just thought I'd throw that out there.
You sure it was the Vincent Thomas bridge they lived under? The bridge ends on Terminal Island, a few miles before what's usually considered Long Beach. There are apartments on the San Pedro side, right under the end of the bridge, but the other end of the bridge is the Navy shipyards...it's all railroads and containers down there...I'm not saying there couldn't have been apartments down there at one time, but it would have been a real hellhole of a place to actually try to live. Like living in the parking lot of a truck stop.
There is another, much smaller bridge, a couple miles East that goes over one of the entrances to the inner harbor. Maybe you're thinking of that bridge. It's closer to where Long Beach starts.
I must mean the smaller bridge. The Navy shipyards have been there for decades. I was last at their apartment building in the early 80s. It may still exist. It was on a short street of old houses and apartments just to the left as you came down off the bridge, practically in the shadow of the bridge. They had lived there forever and had ridiculously low rent, like $60 a month.