The California


Two old grand movie palaces survive in San Diego. Happily the Balboa in Gaslamp has been returned to her former glory after decades arduous effort to gain preservation. Sadly The California sits in utter dilapidation. In the words of an urban poet: “She’s a wounded survivor, limping but displaying her teeth.”

Showing its teeth, or from this view, showing its bones–the bow string truss. Likely the truss wasn’t visible before an adjacent building was razed.

The “In Spot” ad is painted on the theatre entrance and office tower along Fourth Avenue. That portion is nine stories high. The auditorum stands nearly five stories high and contains 2,200 seats. The proscenium area facing third avenue is six stories high.

I don’t recall a time in my life when this Caliente billboard wasn’t on the back side of the proscenium structure. Certainly the movie palace alone represents a by gone era. But so do these advertisements, the “In Spot,” and the Caliente horse racing ads. There was a dog racing ad too.

The Caliente dog racing advertisement was painted over. However, a bit still shows through. The race dogs used to chase “‘Pepito,’ the mechanical bunny.” The sport fell out of favor after revelations of inhumane treatment received a lot of press.

Details of the Spanish Colonial Revival ornament.

Upon opening in 1927 the California was celebrated as “the cathedral of the motion picture” and “an enduring contribution to the artistic beauty of the entire Southland”

Cracked and broken but still holding strong. Waiting for a developer with a heart, not just a lust for making a buck.

At its grand opening on April 22, 1927, the theatre presented Constance Talmadge and Antonio Moreno in “The Venus of Venice”, Fanchon and Marco’s “Book ideas.”

The movies I saw here included several James Bond pictures. I remember seeing a Mel Brooks double feature of The Producers and Blazing Saddles. The California went dark as a movie theatre in 1976.

In 1978 an arson fire destroyed the Old Globe Theater in Balboa Park. The California became the temporary Old Globe Theater during reconstruction.

The interior was decorated in gold leaf and murals. The side walls of the auditorium were inspired by a Spanish church. A huge Wurlitzer organ was also a proud asset. Things were looking up for the California in 1988. A lot of fixing up went on.

It was about that time I saw a concert there. English Beat was the band.

The California’s run as a concert venue was short lived. By 1990 it was slated for demolition. However, the wrecking ball has yet to arrive.

In the mean time it suffers demolition by neglect. Each passing year makes it more impossible for the “beast” to be a beauty ever again. But we can hope for a reverse of fortune.
Historic Photos

California Theatre

“Open All Night” The California in the 1940s

Balcony Staircase

1929

Beatlemania

Reference Source, San Diego Historical Society

Cinder Block Sonata

I’m not sure people knew much about Sorrento Valley while construction of interstate 5 was under way in the mid 1960s. By 1971 Sorrento Valley was known for its clusters of industrial parks. There typically isn’t much to get excited about when it comes to industrial park architecture. It is pretty much a cookie cutter genre. But a commission by renown architect Loch Crane broke that mold.

The building is industrial all the way. With exception of wood trim and siding, this is all concrete and cinder block.

It is the playful use and arrangement of these common materials that sets it apart.

The wooden beam pergola covers the walk way lined by a cinder block colonnade.

A line of offices have a filtered view through the motif.

Up the staircase.

From the top floor, a view of the valley filled with buildings not nearly this clever.

A lady who runs a catering business across the street fondly calls this “The Tower.” With exception of the lowly bird sitting atop, not a soul is at “The Tower” any more. The building is slated for demolition. The site is to be scraped for a 24 Hour Fitness facility. “Aren’t we lucky,” said the lady sarcastically.

Behind the tower an industrial portion of the complex still has tenants. I spoke with a gentleman from a company called Car Turner. They build turntables for cars, a lazy susan if you will. To turn your car around by the spin of a platter you park on. Another gentleman in the complex makes surfboards. Both guys spoke of their desire to remain in a building they appreciate and admire. “The way the sun comes through here in the morning is awesome,” they said.

This is another sad story in a book of many. Good and great architecture is looked upon far too commonly as a disposable commodity. Like a car. To be used and finally junked.

Neighborhood Cinema

The Carteri, then Adams Avenue Theatre. (1924)

For my neighbor, Mrs. Kahan, this was the neighborhood movie theatre she enjoyed from 1947 when she first moved to Normal Heights.

“After the matinee you could catch a street car on Adams for a nickle and ride anywhere in town to find a place to eat.”

The house went black in 1962. The interior was adapted as retail space. But at least the exterior was kept mostly intact, minus the ticket booth which sat there in the middle. The terrazzo is in fairly good shape, although back in the day these received regular finish to maintain a high gloss. It is a bit dull now. And the display cases that once showed coming attraction posters are still intact. All too often display cases of converted movie theatres are boarded up or covered.  Historic Photo.

I was in Westchester recently visiting my long time friend Kenny Garrett. We walked a few blocks from his house and he showed me what used to be his neighborhood theatre, the Loyola. That neon tower stood some 60 feet high. Note the illuminated display cases. It opened on October 3, 1946. It went dark in the 1980s. The above is a historic photo from the 1970s.

Although the shell of the Loyola remains there are no remaining movie theater elements inside. It is all office space. And what is left outside is a far cry from how it used to look. Someone was in love with shot-crete or stucco. Every inch was plastered with it. Marquee, display cases and the tower.

In the historic photo notice the detailed ornament adorning the plumage rising above the marquee. There’s a discussion in the THEATRE HISTORICAL SOCIETY OF AMERICA’s 1987 annual about the genre of architecture the Loyola belongs to. They refer to it as the “Skouras style,” named after two brothers–Skouras- who managed several cinema chains. Their designer was named Carl G. Moeller. He utilized new technology and materials, namely aluminum to achieve this highly ornate decor inside and out. The result was a style landing somewhere between Art Moderne and Streamlined. The grandiose sweeping and swirling was possible because aluminum was cheap–ornamental forms of aluminum were easy to craft and mass produce. So they went hog wild with flamboyant movie house design.

All that ornamental detail is covered up. All that neon is gone.

I probably don’t need to mention the Swan motif. But I will because the venue was always matched up with films of like theme. The Loyola first ran To Kill A Mockingbird. And the run of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds is something people still talk about. “There were several “dead” artificial birds placed along the marquee. Most interesting and clever was the box office where two or three of the birds had been cut in half and pasted to either side of the window, each ‘head’ stuck on the inside with the ‘tail’ on the outside. Tiny ‘cracks’ were painted on the glass. This gave the appearance that the ‘birds had crashed right through!” Mike H.


The terrazzo isn’t too shabby. However I noticed at one end a few spray-painted lines. The kind you see just before a jack hammer shows up.

The Loyola sat 1,234 people. It boasted an army of uniformed ushers and usherettes. There was lots of red velvet. Fancy bathrooms. Fancy snackbar. Stadium seating in back. This show had it all.

Neighborhood Library

The Mission Hills Library is not unlike the first library I ever knew in National City. Both employed brick and lots of window glass. They had different roofs though. National City’s roof had a lower profile. The Mission Hills Library roof almost takes flight.

National City’s mid century library closed years ago. That South Bay city can boast having a fine looking slick modern library. San Diego on the other hand limps along with a collection of libraries that have been way too small for a very long time. It is a city that has pumped hundreds and hundreds of millions of tax payer dollars into sports stadiums and guaranteed purchases of unbought Chargers tickets. For Petco Park alone the city will be playing to the tune of eleven million dollars a year until 2037. Mean while the city has been unable to fund its employee’s pension program, maintain its infrastructure, or to build modern libraries, especially a central library.

Still, the days are numbered for this little jewel. It may have outlived its usefulness as a library, but this is a smart looking warm friendly structure that can live on wonderfully serving some other purpose. It astonishes me to hear the number comments people make while I shoot old buildings. “What are you doing that for? I can’t wait for the bulldozers to knock this down!” I would have thought library patrons might have more sense of history and culture–especially about the library that served them so well, so long.

And its not as if the new library needed this land. The plans are in place for a new library to be built up the street. Maybe I should have asked “what’s the big hurry to scrape this little library for a six story faux Spanish strip mall deluxe loaded with condos and anchored at ground level by Starbucks? You can get that by walking down the street a few blocks. And plenty more a few blocks after that.”

San Diego Neon, continued.

One of the oldies. The Aero Club on India Street has been around for 60 years. The aerospace crowd is long gone, but the joint enjoys continued popularity with the youngins.

Another ancient water hole, The Brass Rail in Hillcrest. The Brass Rail’s first venue was downtown beginning in the 1930’s. The Hillcrest venue began in the 1960’s. It boasts being the oldest gay bar in San Diego. It was once required back in the old days for men to keep their hands on top of tables or the bar at all times! Police with flashlights stopped by unannounced just to make sure of that. Yes, at least human rights have progressed beyond the “put your hands where I can see them” era.

The magnificent Royal Food Mart sign. Located at 3401 First Avenue, this venue has been going since 1914.

A menu is posted at the sidewalk. You’ll find an array of delicious sandwiches made by a friendly young lady named Romi.

I enjoyed a turkey sandwich made on really good coarse sour dough bread.

Many of the old markets had neon. Judging by the number of neon beer signs, Glenns appears now to be more liquor store than market.

Many liquor stores retained their neon even when this form of lighted sign fell out of favor in the 1970’s and 1980’s.

Signs were often situated in a way that waved to traffic and pointed attention to the store. The Georgia Street Bridge at University Avenue in the background.

The lining of windows with neon is becoming a more common sight. Falcon Liquor on Falcon at Washington Street, Mission Hills.

This is an example of what developers like to call “mitigation.” The old structure, The Mission Hills Shopping Center–the neon letters were spelled across the facade–was demolished. The “Mission Hills” portion of the neon was tokened back to mitigate the loss. This particular view of the sky from this vantage point will not be possible in the near future. One enormous building is going up around the corner. A tall sheer block behind these buildings will cover much of the sky seen in this photo.

One could do a photo essay of the neighborhood neon signs alone.

24 Hour Fitness Neon. Hillcrest Cinema neon through the uprights.

Crest Cafe, Hillcrest, went all out with neon a few years ago.

Although the popular Corvette Diner has a handsome exterior neon display, the best is found inside.

Corvette Diner has a collection neon signs from a number of extinct establishments. The Mr. Universe neon sign I remember very well from my childhood. Mr. Universe was Earl Clark. His gym was in Chula Vista, and my dad was a member. I worked out there too, but working out bored me at a young age.

The old Arnold Saron Jeweler sign.

This might be their best one. An animated bowling alley neon.

Boulevard Memories: The Neon

A fellow Boulevard fan, Steve Freed–who grew up around The Strip–remembers El Cajon Boulevard as “a sea of
neon.”

“Not only was it a sea of neon,” he said, “but it was animated neon.”

Frank The Trainman, though actually addressed on Park Boulevard, is poised in perfect view at the head of El Cajon Boulevard. Though the storefront attached to this sign was razed, the sign was preserved for the new structure.

This Wonder Weavers sign was among El Cajon Boulevard’s most appealing animated neons, said Steve Freed. Nowadays you can see the holes where the neon was held. But no neon today.

Steve Freed, 1977
Steve brought me some pictures from his photo album to scan and work on. This one was a bit tough to work with, but I included it here because the Magic Corner at Guaranty Chevrolet was a great piece of neon animation. That’s a neon outlined magician figure at the Magic Corner sign. He waved his magic wand.

No more magic at that corner. Just an ugly strip mall. The Guaranty Chevrolet building, now dilapidated, is a furniture store.

The undisputed queen of Boulevard animated neon, The Campus Drive-In Theatre.

S. Freed, 1982

Steve snapped this shot in 1982 just before The Campus Drive In’s final curtain. Although the Majorette was saved the mural and all the artwork associated with the scene surrounding the majorette was demolished. The neon outline of the mountains, campus buildings, and the letters no longer accompany the baton girl.

S. Freed, 1982

Said Steve: “Trees were grown to surrounded the sides of the movie screen because cars used to park and watch a movie from the street.”

S. Freed, 1982
Campus Drive-In Ticket Booth.

S. Freed, 1982
Side street to the ticket booth.

The Campus Drive-In Majorette today at College Grove Shopping Center. I took the liberty of cropping out the marvelous Mervyn’s back-lit plastic sign. She twirls away just a proudly as ever.

There’s not a lot to see at the site where the Drive-In once stood so dramatically.

There are small token neon majorettes sprinkled through the development to pay homage to what once stood there. But otherwise you’d have to say one old icon was replaced a new one. Starbucks.

Steve snapped The Layfayette Hotel in 1977. The neon was still intact.

Changes are due for the Layfayette as well. At one point it faced demolition. Then compromise. The facade was to be saved as a front for a behemoth high rise behind. That apparently is still the plan, except the height has been reduced, “Mitigated.” Let’s hope it works better than other completed hybrid projects around town.

The Red Fox Room at the Layfayette kept the neon.

Neon is coming back. Perhaps it will never again rival the glory days of the 1950’s, but neon is gaining favor once again. This is the new transit plaza on El Cajon Boulevard at Interstate 15.

Next: Boulevard Memories: Sights Then and Now. Comparing various Boulevard sites with “before” and “today” shots.

Spring


When San Diego has an ample rainy season, the otherwise dry chaparral countryside becomes green for a brief period in Spring.

Poppies do their popping.


Butterflies fly. Wild Animal Park

Wild Daisies at Mission Trails

Monarch Butterfly at Wild Animal Park

Wild Flower at Mission Trails.

Wild Animal Park

Desert rain puddles and dries quickly leaving cracked plates. Flowers quickly emerge. Anza Borrego.


And More Flowers. Anza Borrego.

Anza Borrego

Along Palm Canyon Trail, Anza Borrego.

Palm Canyon Trail, Anza Borrego.

Palm Canyon Trail, Anza Borrego.

More Butterflies, Wild Animal Park.

Classical Gas; Running on Empty

Note: The following story is also illustrated with video clips via the highlighted and underlined links within the text.

Once a familiar site on the American Landscape many of these old Texaco stations stubbornly live on as rusted venues for various enterprises.

The “banjo sign” was its most recognizable feature.


Their slogan was “You can trust your car with the man who wears the star.”

They were called “Service Stations.” One never had to dirty one’s hands on the unwieldy hose and nozzle. Attendants popped open the hood and checked the oil, battery, brake fluid, radiator, and fan belts. Windshields cleaned and tire pressure checked. Typically motorists wandered over to a soda machine and relaxed while their car was checked over, filled and “topped off.”

You could always count on a road map being available. If there was a charge for one, it was nominal. I seem to recall they were free all through the 1960’s.

Children could enjoy playing with their own Texaco station. The Texaco station design appearantly emerged from the early 1930’s. They were white with green trim, red stars, and banjo sign.

Oceanside, CA. The bands of trim are always a clue even though the stations now look different.

It would have been 3 bands of green trim.

This old station on U.S. 101 in Leucadia was remodeled, but I suspected it once was a Texaco.

I ran the question past Scott. He confirmed it was indeed a Texaco Station from the early 1930’s.

Another old Texaco in North Park, San Diego.

On the same block is this old station. But no clue. I have the feeling it was formerly a Richfield Station.

There were many stations to choose from. Many brands. The competition was strong. There was the term “Gas War.” It didn’t mean war in the Middle East, as one might suppose today. It meant one dealer would out do the other dealer for the lowest possible price.

An oldie in Encinitas, CA. It appears the structure featured an apartment above the gas station. In addition to Gas Wars there were various incentives such as trading stamps.

There were three competing trading stamps I recall. Orange Stamps, S&H Green stamps, and Blue Chip Stamps. The concept is modified today in the form of “cash rewards,” or “Airline Miles” offered by credit cards. I remember Shell had a game called Presidential Portraits. If you collected the portraits of all U.S. Presidents, you won a prize. It wasn’t easy though. You amassed a large trove of Millard Filmores but could never get a Zachary Taylor. China collections and silverware were often incentives.

Signal is a gas you never see anymore. A lot of petroleum was produced in the Los Angeles region, especially Signal Hill.

Gilmore Gasoline came from the grounds of the Fairfax District in Los Angeles.

Gilmore was gobbled by Mobil. The distinctive pegasus was eventually phased out by Mobil. This station is in Flagstaff, AZ.

Douglas Gas, very popular in the 1950’s and 1960’s, had refining operations out of Long Beach. They were gobbled up by Continental Oil. Continental became Conoco which merged with Phillips. ConocoPhillips today is one of the “Big Six Super Majors.” Another old brand bought up by ConocoPhillips is Union 76, or Unical. Union 76 stations were known to have a higher price. However in the day when stations actually provided service, theirs was always considered top notch. They had a jingle:

“You always get the finest
The very best, the finest
At the sign of the 76
Whether you stop in for water or air
To powder your nose or comb your hair.
You always get the finest
The very best, the finest
At the sign of the 76.
It’s orange and blue,
So look for that Union
Sign of the finest —
The sign of the 76.”

You may notice PhillipsConoco has discarded 76 Orange for red. The 76 ball is apparently being phased out as well as some of their landmark stations.

The most interesting gas station I photographed was Russel’s Gas Station on Sawtelle Blvd. in West Los Angeles. It appeared unchanged, except for weathered paint, since the 1920’s.

I’ve misplaced most of my shots of it. These pictures are from 1983. I remember Huell Howser discovered Russel’s when he was with KCET, Public Broadcasting in Los Angeles. “Now wait a minute! You mean to tell me you’ve been here since WHEN? GAW-LEE!” Needless to say the site is extinct now.

I was able to locate one of my shots of Russel’s Gas Station in the form of a CD cover for the band Building 14 and their album “Fuel For The Messiah.” The label on the pumps is Seaside Gas, a later day “Independent.” But the pumps appear to have been painted over many times. I seem to recall it being a Richfield station before.

Gulf was a frequently seen sign.

Gulf was gobbled up by Chevron. Many old Gulf stations became the independent “GO-LO,” whatever that means.

Advertising at times seemed to be saying one thing but meaning another.

Kum and Go is based in Iowa. It is a very popular mid west gasoline brand.

Another unusual name.

As the companies merged, competition dried up. Prices skyrocketed and “service” was completely eliminated from stations. The prices here are almost the “good old days.” We hear a lot of explanations of why the prices have gone up. Besides the usual ones–OPEC pulls the strings, too much demand–I have to laugh at some of the others. “The price has gone up because of worries about hurricanes this season,” “A refinery had to close for a month because of maintenance.” Why not “upset caused by Britney Spears’ bad smelling feet on a trans atlantic flight?”

In the NEWS on February 1st it was reported Exxon posted the highest quartly profit of any company in the history of the universe. But not by charging the prices shown at this BARFF Station.

Ruby and Nelms; “Rube Nelson’s Country Corner,” Escondido, CA

While we lived in San Marcos Dad discovered a chiropractor, Dr. Eugene Nelms. The practitioner just liked being called “Nelms.” His office was in Escondido. But even after my family moved to National City and later to Bonita, Nelms was the man we’d to go to for getting “cracked” and “bent” back into shape.
The good Doctor was a character. He had a gruff, gravely voice–almost like Mel Blanc’s Yosemite Sam. He was a story teller. With a combination of less than sound proof walls, and the carrying quality of his distinctive voice, waitees often got an earful of adventure.

Photos taken June 1983
Nelms favorite topic was Rube Nelson, an Escondido icon who was the proprietor of what was then North County’s premier shopping destination Rube Nelson’s Fabulous Country Corner. Nelms must have considered Rube Nelson a rival.
“‘Poor Ol’ Rube,’ is what he likes to be called,” Nelms would say. “He prints those damn words on just about everything he owns…but there ain’t nothin poor about him! There he is in those worn out striped overalls, corn- pone hat, and cigar he picked up off the street somewhere–and he’s a gawd dang bank board member!”

“‘Poor Ol’ Rube….’ He just hates it when I call him “Ruby.” Whenever I see him at the Grape Festival or Harvest Parade riding his donkey I like to yell out ‘Hey Ruby is that you?’ He tries to ignore me.”

“‘No Nelms, that ain’t me, it must be somebody else.”

“It must be somebody ELSE! Well I don’t know who that SOMEBODY ELSE might be, Ruby. All I see is you and all I see is the Jack Ass! But I can’t tell WHO is riding WHO!”

The paths of “Ruby” and Nelms crossed when Pacific Bell assigned them the same phone number except for one numeral. Brought memorably together by the phone company, they both continually got calls, one for the other.

“I get the calls for Rube Nelson Pharmacy,” said Nelms. “Old blue haired women wanting to know if their prescriptions are ready. ‘Yeah lady your prescription is ready, plus any other dope you might want to snort, sniff, chew or stick where the sun don’t shine!'” Nelms liked to laugh at his own stories. A big “haw, Haw, HAW!” often followed.
“I like to kid Poor Ol’ Rube. ‘You know what Ruby? You have got a low class clientele. And I mean a LOW class clientele. By god, you sell more tins of lard and spam per square foot than any store in the good ol’ U.S. of A.'”

Rube Nelson’s Country Corner Market stood at the corner of Washington and Broadway. And as a matter of fact, in its day, this discount dynamo actually did boast the highest volume per square foot of any store in the United States. The roof was adorned with a king-size chicken, colt, cow and calf. Nelms liked to point out “Bull” was there too.

Front door patrons passed a replica of the Statue of Liberty.

Inside were long lines of people at checkout stands, or strolling up and down the long aisles of goods. The place was almost a combination store-historic museum as dozens of objects of bygone eras adorned the walls and every inch of spare space.

He was a history buff and antique collector. Orange and Apple crates were between displays of antique printers and typewriters.

“Ruby,” as Nelms would say, “You’re nothing but a junk collector, I don’t care what fancy name you put on it.

“And if you’re going to tell me your life story again, let me just repeat it now, then you can just tell me if I left anything out…..

“You came to Escondido in 1927…you dug ditches for two bits an hour…they told you not to dig where the water lines were, but you did it any way….a big gusher went up. How many times you wanna tell that story now Ruby?

“Tell me one thing, Ruby. You’re one of the wealthiest men in Escondido. Why are you so cussin’ Cheap?”

(In telling these stories Nelms modulated two voices for the dialog).

“What do you mean by that now Nelms?”

“Well this is what I mean…I mean you got a broom standing at each one of your check out aisles. And by god, ‘buyer beware!’ You end up getting charged for a broom you don’t want; a broom and you never take home!.”

“Oh that’s not true now Nelms, you know that. What an old story! Besides with prices goin’ up, I’ve moved in high price mops to replace those brooms!!!!”

“I still say you are tight, Ruby, real tight”

“That’s not true now Nelms. I’m like Jack Benny. It’s not that I’m cheap…just conservative!”

“Well Ruby, you could afford a fancy vacation…why don’t you fly off to Europe somewhere?”

“Well Nelms, I’ve never had any desire to go to Europe because all those Europeans are after us American dollars.”

“You mean U.S. American dollars.”

“No, Nelms, I mean us American dollars because whenever they see us, they see dollar signs.”

“Well, by god Ruby, you got yourself a point there now don’t you.?”

“Well I sure do now Nelms!”

“Wah say, I do, I say, now Ruby!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the realm of nutrition, Nelms had one bit of advice. EAT CORN!

Over and over again patients were serenaded about the virtues of CORN!

“Corn is the FINEST FOOD. Indians ate CORN. They had the HEALTHIEST brown skin. The SHINIEST white teeth. The SMOOTHEST black hair. Yeah…YEAH CORN IS THE FINEST FOOD!”

Once in the waiting room, I noticed I hadn’t heard the corn lecture. I mentioned to someone else in the waiting room that the Doctor would normally have mentioned corn by then . He said “we’ll I’ll just have to ask Dr. Nelms if corn is good for me or not.”

Sure enough the scene played out. “Corn is a pretty good food isn’t it?”

“Why, by god, funny you should mention that. I was about to say Corn is the FINEST FOOD. You need to eat PLENTY of CORN! The Indians ate CORN. They had the HEALTHIEST brown skin. The SHINIEST white teeth. The SMOOTHEST black hair. Yeah..YEAH CORN IS THE FINEST FOOD!”

Rube Nelson’s Country Corner is long gone. Just another strip mall and parking lot now.

But the tradition of speaking about the virtues of Corn carried on. When I developed back troubles, I found an excellent Chiropractor in Santa Monica named Rex Taylor. I told him all about Nelms and his preaching the corn sermon. Rex loved the story. One time as I waited for my appointment, I could hear Rex in the next room telling one of his other clients. “….Speaking of diets there was a chiropractor in Escondido who was excited about CORN! He told all of his patients ‘corn is the FINEST food!’ You know the Indians ate corn don’t you?…”

California, An Endangered Species.

The past and the present. I was born at this location in San Marcos (San Diego County), California in 1956. Ten or fifteen years ago I could have found my way here nearly blindfolded. I had to really search for it this time–nearly all recognizable landmarks are gone. Quiet country living has given way to a freeway and strip malls.


Sam Soderberg and neighbor friend.

During the first half of the twentieth century there was what could be called a romance of California living. Frank Lloyd Wright once used the term California Romanza. City life was in a patchwork of what are called urban villages. Both San Diego and Los Angeles had a grid of metropolitan trolley lines. Planners in those days built many bungalows and bungalow courts along these trolley lines. In San Diego of 1947 you paid a nickel to ride anywhere among the urban villages. Downtown, North Park, Kensington, Normal Heights, Hillcrest, Mission Hills, University Heights were among the familiar names along the way. Many dwellings came without garages–it was typical for many to get around without an automobile.

But city living was only one option when living the California Romanza. There was also the country life. Quiet, wide open spaces and fresh air. San Marcos of 1956 was a part of a much more expansive patchwork of areas perhaps too sparsely populated to be called villages. You really only became aware of entering San Marcos because of a cluster of signs indicating the agricultural organizations of the area. The chicken population of San Marcos was vastly greater than the human population.

Gone are the picket fences, the old farm houses, chicken ranches, and livestock. Echo Lane, which was then a dirt road (It washed out during wet years) is now a drive way into the parking lot for big box retailers including Home Depot.

The sign at the edge of the property read “Echo Lane Kennels.” My mom and dad raised beagles and won a shelf full of trophies and ribbons from dog shows. We had this horse for a short time. It was a temperamental creature that liked to throw its rider and kick.

Not a horse friendly sight now. The parking lot and architecture could really be anywhere. All across the country there are countless such developments. A homogeneous strip mall model has cookie-cut its way from one end of the country to the other. The landscaping here falls into a term commonly used: “mitigation.” When enough people decry the ugliness of a development, a few bushes and trees are added to “mitigate” the impact.

These were the “star” breeders for Echo Lane Kennels, Marilyn and Joe–named after Marilyn Monroe and Joe DiMaggio. These two beagles produced many a prize winning offspring.

Sam and Zack Soderberg

And there were sheep. A child’s life centered around household animals and livestock on several acres of land can only be found in California nowadays in areas far more remote than San Marcos. Once just a dot on the map, San Marcos today is joined at the hip with Escondido as a mini megalopolis.

No longer a place where “the sheep and the antelope play.” One of the reasons so many of us “old timers” got involved with the effort to save Trestles and San Onofre State Park is because we have witnessed the huge change in California in our life time. The creation of the California Coastal Commission was largely the result of a realization that California was being lost to development. Having this commission was a figurative drawing of a line in the sand. We’ve pretty much lost the interior of California to freeways, subdivisions and strip malls. The country life of communities such as San Marcos is gone forever. But the creation of the Coastal Commission was to say “hands off” when it comes to the coastal corridor. Yet even with that, it is a difficult struggle to keep what is left.

This small country house I was born in was certainly no Buckingham palace. However it was very sad when I drove by here in June of 1983 and found the old familiar gravel driveway no longer attached to any structure.

The house used to be on the left side. Straight ahead there was a barn. Nothing left in 1983 but the foundations and rubble.

The kennel and former home of Joe and Marilyn. My dad told me that shortly after I learned to walk I became very adapt at climbing this fence. He seemed to enjoy recalling how my toes curled around the wire just as my fingers did when scaling the fence.

And then it came to this. A pile of rubble in 1983. Finally a parking lot and strip mall.

And Echo Lane is no more. This is like a metaphor of what has happened to California. An echo barely heard of a time prior to the day of the red trolley cars being sent to the junk yards. Before public transit was forsaken. Before the automobile and freeways became priority. In fact this is how my family came to leave San Marcos. The freeway built there lopped off part of our property. And once the freeway went in, everything else followed. Many of us who have seen this play out time and time again in California had to step up and say “NO!” to the freeway proposal through San Onofre State Park. Once a park is gone it doesn’t come back. Just as Echo Lane will never be again.

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