The year is 1908. It was the year Henry Ford introduced the Model T Ford at a cost of $825, it was the first time a ball signifying the New Year dropped in Times Square, Theodore Roosevelt was President and the average wage was 22 cents an hour. It was also the year that respected and renowned San Diego Judge Alfred Haines built his stately Craftsman home, now regarded as one of the finest preserved homes standing in downtown.

Located at 2470 E Street, this 6 bedroom, 5 bathroom, 5300+ square foot property with off-street parking for eight to ten cars, rich in history yet meticulously updated by its current owners, is listed for sale at $2,789,500.

Situated on a beautifully oversized landscaped lot, surrounded by mature trees and gardens in a lovely traditional neighborhood, here is a rare opportunity to own a piece of San Diego’s past. Unlike anything on the market today, this pristine six bedroom, five bathroom property is over 5,500 square feet and offers original architectural details which have been finely restored, including rich hardwood flooring, wainscoting, and dark wood paneling all polished to perfection.

City leaders on April 9 broke ground on a $1.7 million effort to ease traffic, upgrade sidewalks, and revamp parking along 25th Street in Golden Hill.

Work on the thoroughfare connecting SR-94 and Balboa Park is set to include restriping the road, widening sidewalks, and adding marked bike lanes. Crews also plan to replace water mains and add reverse-angle parking spots, which motorists will have to back into.

The “25th Street Renaissance Project” includes the stretch between B and E streets, according to city officials. Mayor Kevin Faulconer said the push to rebuild San Diego’s neighborhoods had begun and pledged $22 million of the $35 million in new revenue anticipated in his proposed budget for next year (which he plans to detail today, April 14) toward the city’s infrastructure needs.

The city reportedly plans to spend about $300 million on capital improvements across the city, which will include repairs to streets and sidewalks, park improvements, streetlights, storm-drain maintenance, and work on fire stations and other city facilities, Faulconer said.

“The goal of all of these projects is to make San Diego a better place to live and to work — and the 25th Street Renaissance Project fits that bill,” Faulconer said. “Whether you’re traveling by foot, bike, or car, the changes that are being made here are going to make it safer and a more accessible route for everyone.”

Faulconer said the city has been rightfully criticized in the past for poorly coordinating infrastructure projects. For instance, the city would pave a street and then tear it up a couple months later for a sewer or water project. This project would be different, he said. The area would soon be due for a water-main replacement, so that project was consolidated with the other planned improvements.

The project will be funded using the San Diego Association of Governments’ TransNet fund and water funds, according to city officials.

From the Official Press Release of the City of San Diego:

On April 8, 2014 Mayor Kevin Faulconer, Council President Todd Gloria and City of San Diego officials ceremoniously broke ground on the 25th Street Renaissance Project at the corner of B and 25th Streets.

Mayor Faulconer praised the project’s improvements, which will provide pedestrian amenities, traffic calming, and hardscape improvements. “I am a strong advocate for active transportation. The 25th Street Renaissance Project will make active transportation a far better option in this corridor” he said.

Council President Todd Gloria, Public Works Department Interim Assistant Director Marnell Gibson, and representatives from the City of San Diego Public Works, and Transportation and Storm Water Departments joined the Mayor at the ceremony.

“The push to rebuild San Diego’s neighborhoods has begun and projects like this that widen sidewalks and install bike lanes are going to be the future,” Faulconer added.

Todd Gloria agreed saying, “This project brings active transportation improvements to the neighborhood and will allow for safer biking and walking along a key corridor.”

The project will make the Golden Hill neighborhood safer and more accessible for residents and businesses. The project’s improvements include:

• Installation of sidewalk pop-outs
• Restriping of roadways
• Intersection controls
• Sidewalk widening
• Class II Bike lanes
• Accessibility
• Reverse angle parking
• Replacement of water mains
• Water quality improvement devices

The 25th Street Renaissance Project improvements focus on calming traffic, creating multi-modal forms of transportation, and making infrastructure upgrades. The project was funded from TransNet and Water Funds. Mayor Faulconer concluded with “this is a $1.7 million dollar neighborhood infrastructure improvement for this community.”

The historic mansion at 2440 C Street in Golden Hill was not built to cater to San Diego’s latest crop of nouveau riche.

Remote-controlled, gated driveways? Nope, but a custom wrought iron gate still leads from the city sidewalk to a formal entry foyer, and the alley-accessible detached garage and workshop still houses the original stables.

The kitchen, while updated with modern appliances and fixtures, may not have an adjacent temperature-controlled wine room to showcase your collection. But there is a wood-lined butler’s pantry, designed for a time when it would have been attended by an actual butler.

Originally completed in 1907, the C Street estate was designed by city-designated master builders and architects Charles and Edward Quayle — the brothers’ other work included several buildings for Balboa Park’s Panama-California Exposition, downtown’s old police headquarters, and the original San Diego Stadium, which at the time was only the second concrete stadium west of the Mississippi.

With its five bedrooms, two baths, and just over 3000 square feet of living area, the space might seem pedestrian today in a market where the average new home tops 2400 square feet. But compared to its contemporaries, this estate is three or four times the size of a turn-of-the-last-century middle class bungalow.

Period-specific details include “beautiful craftsman woodwork” throughout the home, including paneled walls, crown moulding, and built-in bookcases, china cabinets, and buffet in the formal dining room. The bath features a claw-foot tub, and the 111-year-old original hardwood floors have been restored to their original gleaming condition.

While bereft of modern ostentations such as a private movie theater or dance club, the home offers a parlor for entertaining, an upstairs sun room that, along with the two open balconies, offers views of the downtown skyline, and a finished basement that adds another 500 square feet of space not included in official citations.

Modernization has been undertaken with an eye toward preserving the home’s character: a certified lighting consultant was brought in to refinish many of the original fixtures. Fresh electric and cable wiring was installed, along with a modern climate control system, before the original plaster was refinished and repainted. The original fireplace was upgraded to meet modern code, as was the roof, all under the direction of a historical-preservation architect.

The one-third acre lot is billed as “triple-sized” as compared to neighborhood standards, offering “panoramic views and ocean breezes” to complement “lovely lawns and gardens that wrap around the house on all sides” and the covered front patio.

The home’s central location, just a few blocks south of Balboa Park and a mile east of the heart of downtown, makes for a “vibrant neighborhood” that is “centrally located and close to all” within “walking distance to wonderful local shops, cafes, and restaurants.”

Public records indicate current ownership of the C Street residence lies with Dianne Hamilton and Kathleen Mayne — little information is easily accessible on Hamilton, while Mayne is listed as the owner of a business based out of the home. The home was last reported sold for $693,500 in 2001.

One thing future owners will appreciate about the home’s historic appeal is an opportunity to avoid property taxes. Thanks to an official designation via the state’s Mills Act, the home’s current tax base of $289,470 is less than half of its most recent sale price. Under the act, historic properties are assessed by considering their rental value rather than comparable sales, resulting in a much lower property tax assessment. It’s intended to encourage owners of historic properties to preserve them in period-specific condition. As long as a new owner maintains the property’s historic integrity, he or she will also be able to benefit from the designation.

Interest in the property to date doesn’t seem to match its notable status — originally listed with an asking price of $1,795,000 in late March, the home was reduced by $100,000 in April and again to $1,449,000 in late May, making it an Unreal bargain.

Major renovation is under way at 2692 C Street, the address that was previously home to George Washington Station, the post office that served Golden Hill from the ’60s until it closed permanently in February 2011.

The new property owner (Fancy Pants @ the Post, LLC) has improved the landscaping, gutted the building, and added a multistory structure on the back of the lot.

When it is complete, the new construction will include four single-family residences. The new apartments, called “Fancylofts,” will be approximately 1200-square-feet each, with three bedrooms and two baths.

According to real estate website Zillow, the units will be available for occupation in mid to late February. According to an ad on Craigslist, the residences will rent for between $2550 and $3295 per month.

The parcel was sold in April 2012 for $460,000 by owner Renee Park, who had been leasing it to the United States Postal Service.

It’s easy to miss, tucked away at the elbow of 19th and E streets just above Interstate 5: the Japanese American Christian Church in Golden Hill (サンディエゴ日本人教会). You’d most likely drive past this humble place of worship on the way up Broadway without noticing it, but if you happened to be on a stroll down E Street looking at the nice old houses, you’d stumble upon it after the bigger homes give way to a series of California bungalows. It’s there before E turns right into 19th.

Across the street from the church, a chain-link fence lines the sidewalk above the 5 where the homeless set up camp on a regular basis before they are swept out and relocated only to return again when the police shift their attention elsewhere.

Historically, the church itself is a product of a relocation of a different sort. As my City College colleague, historian Susan Hasegawa informed me, it was originally founded as the Japanese Holiness Church by Christian Nikkei (immigrants and their descendants) in 1930 and located on Newton Avenue. Sponsored by the Oriental Mission Society, the church focused its efforts on outreach to Issei (first generation immigrant) farmers.

As Hasegawa notes in “Returning Home: The Post-World War II Resettlement of Japanese Americans to San Diego,” in the early part of the 20th century the local Nikkei population “grew from about from around 25 in 1900 to over 2000.” During that period, the intersection of 5th and Island was the center of the Nikkei business district where:

[T]here was an array of small Japanese businesses including retail outlets, American-style coffee shops, Japanese restaurants, pool halls, hotels, and liquor stores. Within a two-block radius of Fifth and Island, there were over 35 Nikkei-owned businesses. Between trips, Issei fishermen relaxed in the pool halls. On the weekends, the area bustled with Nikkei farmers from Mission Valley and Chula Vista on their weekly supply run into town. Interspersed with Nikkei businesses were Caucasian-owned businesses, including two second-hand clothing stores and liquor stores, and several Filipino-managed shops. Nonetheless, the Fifth and Island area was commonly known as the Japanese business district. Although the Great Depression had exacted a toll on the Nikkei community, on the eve of World War II, Fifth and Island represented the beating heart of San Diego’s Nikkei community.

Of course, the bombing of Pearl Harbor and the subsequent internment of Japanese-Americans during the war brought a brutal end to all of this. And if the great injustice of internment was not enough, after the executive order was rescinded in 1944, Japanese-Americans had to deal with continued racism, employment discrimination, housing issues, and many other hurdles. Nonetheless, as Hasegawa notes, about “45 percent of the prewar population of San Diego County” took their $25 allowance and one-way train tickets and returned to San Diego.

Despite their troubles, many of San Diego’s returning Japanese-American residents found work as fishermen (who the union hired back freely), gardeners, farmers, cannery workers, and small businessmen and started the long struggle to re-establish their lives and community. They endured racist threats, economic boycotts, and opportunistic political demagoguery, but persisted nonetheless.

Temples and churches were central social centers aiding in the process of rebuilding the community. Hasegawa again notes in her article that the Japanese American Christian Church, which moved to the corner of 19th and E after World War II, worked slowly but steadily to re-establish its flock: “Under Reverend Okimoto, the Japanese Christian Church reconvened in 1945 with a congregation of three. Reverend Yahiro replaced Okimoto and slowly built up the congregation by ‘intensive visitation ministry’ to the Nikkei community. During the late-1940s, church activities expanded to Sunday school classes and bilingual services in Japanese and English.”

Hasegawa explained to me that, “The church eventually attracted numerous Shin Issei (post-1965 Japanese immigrants) and hosted a senior nutrition program, providing weekly meals for seniors in the community.” In a separate interview project, she asked a member of that congregation about its history, growth, and character, and Mr. Yamate explains that:

Yes, we grew gradually. We’re not very large and it’s declining now. We made our biggest growth when we sold our church on Webster Street [South San Diego]. It was in a real deteriorating part of San Diego. In fact, it was close to Imperial Avenue. We sold that. We were going to expand it, but didn’t. We had an opportunity to buy this church on 19th Street and Broadway, on the eastern edge of downtown San Diego. It’s a good size church. The Swedish Covenant people built that in 1915, and they needed to move. All these members were moving out of downtown. They built a beautiful church in Clairemont [a suburb of San Diego]. We’re located centrally now, downtown. [Highway] 94 comes in there. [Interstate Highway] 5 and [Intrastate Highway] 805 are close by. No one lives near [the church]. They come from Mira Mesa, [the] Del Mar Heights area, Chula Vista, Spring Valley, all over. No one lives close to our church. It’s more a metropolitan church, rather than a community church.

Thus the Japanese American Christian Church is located in Golden Hill, but it is more of a focal point for San Diego’s Japanese-American population than a product of Golden Hill itself. And it is still quite active urging support for the victims of the earthquake and tsunami in Japan, running youth programs, and holding services in Japanese and English every Sunday.  A living monument to perseverance, it’s one of the places where after having everything taken away from them, San Diego’s Japanese-American community was reborn.

About the Author

Jim Miller, a professor at San Diego City College, is the co-author of Under the Perfect Sun: The San Diego Tourists Never See and Better to Reign in Hell, and author of the novels Drift and Flash. His most recent novel is Last Days in Ocean Beach.

Church Service Times & Directions

Bilingual Worship Service

10:30am PST (doors open 10:20am)

バイリンガル 礼拝

10:30am PST（10:20am 入場開始）

Pre-K and Elementary Sunday School

幼稚園・小学生 サンデースクール

10:30am – 11:30am

Please contact us for more info

詳しくはお問い合わせください

childrens.sdjcc@gmail.com

Address  住所
1920 E Street
San Diego, CA 92102

The William Hugh Strong House, built 1905, is the first solo design by noted San Diego architect Emmor Brooke Weaver*. The exterior is Cottage Tudor Revival, with a sharply pitched roof, half timbering on its sides, and diamond pane casements. The pergola on the east side was added in 1907 and later enclosed.

The original occupant, William Hugh Strong, was the advertising manager for Marston’s Department Store, which was San Diego’s exclusive dealer for Gustav Stickely** furniture. The home was still in the family of the original owners for at least 105 years until 2010.

*Emmor Brooke Weaver, architect (1876 – 1968) 

Emmor Brooke Weaver has long been considered a Master Architect known for his creativity, innovation and experimentation. Although his name is most associated with rustic wood Craftsman designs, he worked in a variety of architectural styles. His skill as a designer and his comfort in employing different styles is exemplified in dozens of redwood bungalows, the Amy Strong House in Ramona, Rosecroft, as well as 1506 Plumosa Way. The Gertrude Evans/Emmor Brooke Weaver House is unique as a testament to Weaver’s innovation and flexibility and is representative of his overall body of work. 

Emmor Brooke Weaver was born in Iowa, studied architecture at the University of Illinois and relocated to San Diego in 1903.  Upon his arrival to San Diego, he began to work for the Hebbard & Gill architecture firm.  Weaver worked with Gill for several years during his partnership with Frank Mead.  Then Weaver worked for William Templeton Johnson and formed partnerships with John T. Vawter and A. Kenneth Kelloge.  Weaver continued to work in San Diego until his retirement in 1945. 

Notable Works:

• HRB #130 – William Hugh Strong House (2460 A Street) 
• HRB #307 – Amy Strong House (2802 Fourth Avenue) 
• HRB #317 – Easton‐Mertz House (1525 Torrey Pines Road), moved to Poway 
• HRB #371 – Thomas Hamilton House (480 San Fernando Street) 
• HRB #402 – Dr. Frank J. Campbell House (2504 Albatross Street) 
• HRB #486 – Rosecroft (530 Silvergate Avenue) 
• HRB #572 – Mary Ward/Emmor Brooke Weaver House (1824 Sheridan Avenue) 
• HRB #617 – John Vance Cheney/Alice Barnett/Emmor Brooke Weaver House  
• HRB #657 – Frank Sessions/Emmor Brooke Weaver House (4119 Lark Street) 
• HRB #705 – Gertrude Evans/Emmor Brooke Weaver House (1506 Plumosa Way)

**Gustav Stickley was an American furniture manufacturer, design leader, publisher, and a leading voice in the American Arts and Crafts movement. Stickley’s design philosophy was a major influence on American Craftsman architecture.

Not unlike the tree planting efforts that took place in Golden Hill recently, an idea emerged early in 1905 to commemorate the departed members of fraternal societies with an arbor day celebration in Balboa Park (then called just “City Park”). San Diego’s Fraternal Grove society, comprised of 29 local lodges, originated the plan, which soon gained interest throughout the state. At their state-wide meeting held in Watsonville, California, the Foresters of America voted to take an active part in the tree planting and celebration scheduled for Thanksgiving Day. Grand Chief Ranger Charles A. Root, of Sacramento, threw his support behind the San Diego delegation and promised to provide active assistance and attend the occasion himself.

The Foresters received ten saplings from Sherwood Forest and intended to have them planted in parks along the Pacific coast. One was destined for San Diego. Local lodges compiled lists of deceased members in preparation for the memorable occasion. Plans evolved to have a miniature counterpart of England’s Sherwood Forest with the theme for the festivities centered on Robin Hood and his band of merry men who delighted in living the free and fearless life apart from authority during the thirteenth century.

Several months after the inception of the “Fraternal Grove” idea, the gunboat Bennington exploded in San Diego harbor. Considered the worst disaster since the battleship Maine blew up in Havana harbor, 65 men died. Within a few days, the directors of the Fraternal Grove society had added the Bennington casualties to the list of the deceased who would have a tree planted in their name. This brought the total number of trees to 382.

One resident, Joseph Jessop, of Coronado, born near Sherwood Forest, England, delighted San Diego Union readers with his account of Robin Hood. Robin reigned “like an independent sovereign, robbing fat bishops and high priest, or whoever came in his way who had plenty of money,” but he never molested the poor; on the contrary, he gave special care to the widow and orphan.

In October 1905, the Park Commission approved the newly proposed Golden Hill Boulevard as site of the grove. The arbor would line the new boulevard from Golden Hill through the park to Pound Canyon. The layout placed 65 trees commemorated to the Bennington heroes at the center of the grove with the surrounding ones dedicated to the fraternal order. Digging of the holes for planting began a full month before the ceremony.

The young oak brought to San Diego grew from an acorn borne from the famous 800-year-old “Robin Hood Larder Oak,” standing three miles from the ancient castle of Nottingham. The parent oak allegedly contained a large cavity which could disguise the giant frame of little John and corpulent form of Friar Tuck comfortably and simultaneously. It supposedly also doubled as a safety deposit box and cold storage room, housing persons or loot as necessary.

In anticipation of the upcoming ceremonies, George Magly, president of the Fraternal Grove Society in San Diego, wrote: “If the long-departed are permitted to see what goes on in this world, how strange and pleasant to Robin Hood and Little John, to Allan-a-Dale, to Friar Tuck and (Little) Much, the miller’s son, and all the band will be the scene on next Thanksgiving morn in the city park, when the sapling oak from the grand old Sherwood Forest shall start its career among the native trees surrounding it, and who can predict the many gatherings of families, in the years to come, that will assemble under its branches and thick foliage, to enjoy a short season of outing, which we of the present day shall prepare for them?”

Three days prior to Thanksgiving, the larder oak arrived, just in time to be planted under the direction of Park commissioners Marston and Moran. By November 29, the day before Thanksgiving, over half of the 398 trees stood waiting in place for the ceremonies to begin.

The program of November 30, 1905, began promptly at 9 in the morning in the newly planted arbor. School children arrived at the grove and placed a small flag at the base of each tree. Hon. Charles A. Root eloquently delivered the Dedication. Then presentation of the oak sapling from Sherwood Forest followed. W.H. Donahue of Pleasanton, California, who was instrumental in bringing the saplings to the West Coast three years before, gave the presentation speech.

The celebration moved to the downtown plaza, where, at 10 am, folks were entertained by the Woodmen of the World Band, playing atop a bandstand decorated to look like a forest. The finale was a John Phillip Sousa march. Songs were performed by the Concordia Turn Verein. The most solemn part of the ceremony entailed reading deceased lodge members’ names. For each name mentioned, a school-aged child dropped a rose or carnation into a basket. With rain predicted, alternative indoor plans were made, but no rain came and the occasion left pleasant and patriotic memories with the attendees. George Magley spoke of the larder oak as a “foreigner” but assured the audience that “like other immigrants it would soon become Americanized and live in harmony with its neighbors.”

Most of the trees obtained from Sherwood Forest found their way to San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park. Others were planted in Los Angeles and Pleasanton, California, and some found root in the states of Washington and Oregon.

But where is the tree with royal background, around which the descendents of Robin Fitzsooth, Earl of Huntingdon (AKA Robin Hood), or the seven-foot-tall Reginald Greenleaf (AKA Little John), Will Scarlet, Allen-a-Dale, and sweet Maid Marion played before the sapling was uprooted and bound for San Diego? With changes constantly being proposed and implemented in the park, it is easy to see that planners have lost sight of the “public good” our forefathers intended. There are no longer 382 trees lining the old “Golden Hill Boulevard,” now known as 26th Street, as it descends to the traffic light at the intersection of Pershing and Florida. But off to your left just before the Operations Center is the remains of the grove. Although it isn’t easy to know one species of oak from another, the remnants of this significant historic grove should be protected.

Rumor in the little forest is that the whole of Balboa Park is under the watchful eye of a small band of grass roots horticulturists (dressed in Lincoln green, maybe?) and, alas, it is suspected that the Balboa Park plan has been contrived by the Sheriff of Nottingham.

Rynearson House, built in 1898. First floor is Classic Revival style while upper story is half-timbered. Beautiful Gothic window and Renaissance scroll work under the eaves. The house continues to be a private residence.

Flying machines, stock fraud, a double murder, and bad weather? This little piece of San Diego history has all that, and it all happened a few blocks away from my place in Golden Hill.

Shortly after the turn of the last century the world was rife with aerial innovation. The Wright Brothers flew at Kitty Hawk in 1903. Many varied and experimental aircraft were to come, and in tandem with them came the prospect of lighter-than-air travel. Epitomized by Germany’s hydrogen-filled Zeppelins, these machines offered the prospect of passenger air travel on a grand scale.

Enter Charles H. Toliver. A 49-year-old inventor and “tinkerer,” Toliver turned up in Livermore, CA in 1903 and announced his intention to build an airship. He secured land on the promise to build a well and took on investors to the tune of some $30,000 (roughly $950k today). By 1904 he had constructed a craft some 250 feet long, 44 feet high, and 40 feet wide, complete with engines he had specially designed. It’s maiden flight was set for the fall, which came and went. As did 1905, 1906, and 1907. Toliver claimed technical difficulties had set his project back. He was then sued by the owner of the land his craft was on for failing to build the aforementioned well.

In 1910, now 56, Toliver skipped town and made his way to San Diego. Repeating his former plan, he set himself up in a ravine between B and C Streets near 31st in Golden Hill. Construction began. This new airship, dubbed the “San Diego,” would allegedly ferry passengers to Los Angeles and back at speeds of 65 mph, all whilst seated safely in a compartment built within the gas-filled envelope. He once again took investors, at $2.50 per share (about $80 today). The public ate it up. Around 3000 people turned up to the “shipyard” in 1911 to view Toliver’s creation, which he announced was 90% complete. What’s more, he claimed, shares in his company were in such high demand that they would double in price to $5 a share.

Mirroring his prior foray in airship-building, “construction issues” and Toliver’s failed promises continued into the fall. On November 10th, the newly re-christened “Toliver 1” attempted it’s maiden flight. The engines kicked on, the propellers spun, but according to The Union (predecessor to the modern Union-Tribune), “It quivered for a few breathless moments, threatening to rise, then settled down again.” Toliver blamed San Diego’s bad weather.

Soon more problems were to follow. Investors were upset that their shares were basically worthless, especially with no end in sight for the completion of Toliver’s airship. There were also allegations (complete with a lawsuit) of less-than-honest bookkeeping on the part of Toliver. However, the worst setback of all came from the city Health Department. Their concern was the presence of large amounts of hydrogen that were used to inflate (and ideally lift) the craft were hazardous to the community. Toliver was thus commanded to “abate the nuisance,” and deflate his airship “forthwith.” Toliver, in the most severe of binds, referred to his grounded airship as a “beached whale.”

Hydrogen is the lightest element on Earth, ideal for lighter-than-air travel. It’s also plentiful and inexpensive. So what’s the issue? It’s also highly flammable. The presence of so much hydrogen next to all that machinery is a fatal juxtaposition. The Hidenburg disaster in 1937, which killed 36 people, effectively ended hydrogen’s use in airships.

As it happened, the “bad weather” that Toliver had earlier blamed became manifest. On December 10th, 1911 a winter storm blew through and violently rended the Toliver 1, sending parts of it all over the area. Traffic was blocked, and the remnants were hauled to the dump. Toliver took it badly. In a contemporary newspaper, he was reported as saying, “The treatment that has been accorded me in San Diego has been unjust and cruel. This may not be the end of the destruction of that airship. Certainly the city officials have been responsible for it and certainly there should be some redress.”

However, Toliver’s fury would not last long. He had made enemies. One such enemy was Herbert G. Lewis. Lewis was not only a shareholder in Toliver’s company, but also served as a secretary and chauffeur to Toliver himself. Furthermore, Toliver had allegedly also either had an affair with or forced himself upon on Lewis’ young Swedish wife, Ellen. Enraged, Lewis set out upon learning this. He found the Toliver house empty. He took the Toliver’s dog, tying it to a post several blocks away so as not to alert suspicion. He then lay in wait in the garage, armed with two pistols and a knife. When Toliver and his wife Kate drove home, Lewis emerged and shot them both. Kate made it inside and to the phone, managing to dial the authorities before succumbing to her wounds. Toliver also made it inside, where Lewis finished him off with his knife.

Lewis was arrested, standing trial in 1913. “I guess you’ve got the man you want,” Lewis admitted. “He ruined my home; if I had not done it some one else would have had to.” Perhaps surprisingly, Lewis was found “not guilty by reason of insanity.” Another subsequent trial found him “sane,” and he was subsequently released. One report states he and his wife relocated to Los Angeles and lived in obscurity. Another was that Ellen divorced Lewis, after which Lewis joined the circus.

I enjoy knowing the history behind the city I live in, from the things that make this place the vibrant multicultural metropolis that is, to the obscure and fascinating tales that have all too often faded into obscurity. If you’ve read this far, what’s your favorite piece of San Diego history?

Sources for this story were an online expert from Richard A. Crawford’s “An Airship or a Lead Ballon?” as well as an article on the “Toliver Airship” from the Historical Marker Database (hmdb.org)

In the late 1880s, horticulturist Kate Sessions began landscaping the strip of land along Sixth Street with $500 raised by a local women’s organization. This prompted other neighborhoods on the fringe of City Park to take responsibility for improving the parkland close to their homes. Matt Heller, resident of Golden Hill, spearheaded changes in this most southeastern corner of the park. The year was 1890 and he along with a neighbor, Leroy Wright, planted and maintained a small stretch of the park.

George Marston later remarked, “This was the choicest part of the whole 1,400 acres and the Golden Hill neighborhood was entitled to great praise for their civic spirit and for their skill and good taste in making a lovely public garden adjoining their homes.” Unfortunately, during the 1890s a seven-year drought temporarily spoiled the hard work spent on planting and maintaining Golden Hill Park.

In 1902, a comprehensive park plan was proposed under the direction of Samuel Parsons, a landscape specialist, who had designed hundreds of parks on the East coast. His first impression of San Diego was one of admiration because the park had been allowed to maintain its natural beauty.

Groups such as the Golden Hill Improvement Club met in local homes with the intent to assist in the design of their park. Then, as now, the residents demanded to review the proposed plan. Upgrading and expansion of the neighborhood occurred simultaneously. When E.W. Bartlett began his subdivision of South Park in 1906, the time was right for public monuments. Golden Hill Park boasted having San Diego’s first nine-hole golf course, with a dirt fairway and oiled “green.” Residents of that era recalled tennis courts, bird aviaries and even a fountain.

A remnant of time gone by, that still stands, is the stone fountain erected in 1907 and designed by architect Henry Lord Gay. Before coming to San Diego, Henry drew award-winning designs for commercial buildings, churches and residences, and won acclaim in Europe at a time when Americans were rarely considered serious architects. He advised the city of Chicago as they rebuilt their city after the famous catastrophic fire allegedly started by a cow kicking over a lantern. Many expensive buildings and elegant homes in Michigan and Illinois were designed by him. In May 1865, Gay had been part of the team of architects responsible for designing the catafalque that displayed the assassinated President Lincoln’s body as it lay in state at Chicago after touring the northeastern part of the country by train.

In 1904 he came to San Diego to visit his sister and brother in law. The place delighted him so much that he stayed and contributed such buildings as the Garrick Theater, University Heights School, Southwest Packing Company Building, and Gassen Pauly Building along with many hotels and residences.

In June 1907, Park Commissioner (and Golden Hill resident) L.A. Wright and landscape architect George Cooke selected the site for the fountain. The active Golden Hill citizens contributed $75 toward the erection of the fountain, which was matched by monies from the park commission. The following month Mr. Wright and architect Gay proposed “a spring at the head of the first canyon upon the west of the entrance of the park” and determined that it would be “made to resemble the old-fashioned spring, so dear to the hearts of most people, into and out of which the water will flow all the time, running over cascades and shaded by ferns and shrubbery.”

In November construction on the fountain began. The initial idea to have a large shell in the background was abandoned. By March 1908, the San Diego Union reported the completion of a “pretty fountain for Golden Hill.” It was constructed of irregular pieces of rock, which, without preparation, were cemented together in a semi-circular pattern about four feet in diameter. The fountain proper is located within a small rock “room” with seats mounted against the walls. Two rock stairways descend into the fountain area, and stairs of cobblestone lead away from the fountain and into the canyon below.

The fountain was a great drawing spot in the early years. Photographs in the San Diego Historical Society archives show the grounds well-kept and families posing in front of the structure. Old timers remember a gazebo nearby where bands would play. There are probably dusty old family albums with photographs that were staged here and no one recognizes this great little architectural piece where the pictures were taken. (“Oh, you mean the fire pit,” everyone says.) In any case, the fountain is just one example of a community’s united effort to beautify their corner of the park, and is also an important contribution by a well known architect.

(from Susan Bugbee, The Neighborhood Reporter, February 1988, p.11)