Top of a beautiful October morn to you, dear saddlepals.
C’mon.
I’ve thousands of horses saddled, waiting for this morning’s trek into the yesteryear of Santa Clarita, and I think it’d be a grand idea if we all got mounted and out of here before the dreaded HOA police start towing our ponies.
This morning, we’ve an interesting trail ahead, what with man-munching “grizzer” bears, a rash of accidents, the valley’s forgotten poet/miner and the usual gee-whiz amazing lore.
C’mon.
You can yawn just as well in the saddle as on the terra firma. The horses won’t hold it against you …
WAY, WAY BACK WHEN
WHEN PETE WAS PURINA BEAR CHOW — Back on Oct. 17, 1837, Peter LeBeck’s day didn’t end so well. He was killed by a “grizzerbear” up by Fort Tejon. There seems to be some debate whether the community of Lebec was named after him, a relative or by a store owner actually named Lebec.
A HIKE AND THEN SOME — A padre from 1806, Father Munoz, wrote of how difficult a journey it was to get from the Santa Clarita Valley to the San Fernando Mission. From the good man’s diary, he noted the route was an impossible hike of “indescribable mountain roads to Mission San Fernando.”
WE’LL TAKE THE WHOLE DANG VALLEY — On Oct. 20, 1873, Charles Fernald and J.T. Richards purchased the Rancho San Francisco at a Los Angeles Sheriff’s sale — all 48,612 acres of it. Soon thereafter, Henry Mayo Newhall would buy the property for a pinch under two bucks an acre.
THE OLD NATIVE AMERICAN MICKEY FINN — Local Indian historian O.L. “Pop” Morgan noted that back in the Indian days, the SCV was at the crossroads of several major trade routes. It was also considered a mecca where sick Native Americans came to be cured. Besides the variety of warm and/or sulfur springs in the area, the Santa Clarita was a Garden of Eden for a variety of rare plants and herbs. A certain concoction was banned from use by the local Tataviams and Chumash. It affected the nervous system and was the ancient precursor to the old “Mickey Finn.” Boiled into a tea and consumed, it made the patient/victim powerless against any sexual advances — by man or woman. If anyone was caught making the potion, they were banned from the tribe for life.
ONE DEGREE OF SEPARATION — Pop Morgan has another interesting connection to history. A quarter Cherokee and raised on an Oklahoma reservation as a boy, later, he wrote two authoritative books on his tribe. But he was even more noted for having Ira Hayes in his classroom for three years. Ira was the Native American made famous in that photograph of the raising of the American flag on Iwo Jima.
POP III — Here’s a pinch more Native American trivia for you. Pops Morgan noted that a Cherokee first graduated from college before we first had an American president who had graduated from college.
YAY! WE WON!! — In the late 19th century, the road leading from Newhall to Ventura (today, Highway 126) was dubbed “… the worst road in the state” by The Ventura Weekly Free Press.
A NEWHALL, UH, FIRST? — There has been much hoopla about Newhall Elementary being founded in 1878. Actually, in 1877, forty-seven locals signed their name to a document creating the first Newhall Elementary School. Interestingly, it opened in a refurbished bunkhouse near where Walmart is today. What makes that interesting is that of all the places to open that first school, they picked that Pico Canyon location. Just west, down the road, was the Felton School District. Of course, that was limited to oil field worker children.
WONDER WHAT GEORGE WOULD THINK OF A BUCK TO MAIL A LETTER? — Only the old-timers will remember Ravenna. It’s still on the maps, but there’s not a trace of it. It was a thriving community of about 1,000 souls, about halfway between present-day Acton and Agua Dulce. George Gleason was the first postmaster and served from 1868 to 1869. He earned a TOTAL of 57 cents for his year’s work. That post office, by the way, was originally called “Ravena City.” It closed in 1871 and reopened under the correct spelling of “Ravenna” in 1876. The new name didn’t help. The post office closed — again — a year later. It reopened in 1878 but this time, managed to stay open all the way to 1895.
THERE’S A PUNCHLINE SOMEWHERE ABOUT DRIED FRUIT, BUT WE’LL WALK AROUND IT — One of Newhall’s biggest businesses in the 1890s was the Earl Fruit Co. It had a sun-dried fruit operation on the other side of the Newhall Train Depot. It was forced out of business by Ventura farmers who used a more modern fire-drying technique.
WE THOUGHT THEY CALLED THE WIND, ‘MARIAH …’ — Former Signal editor Ruth Newhall went by the name of MIMI when she wrote her gossip column. Her research showed that the fire-spreading winds of October got their name from St. Ann — the Santa Anas.
OCTOBER 24, 1926
ONE TRAIN, SEVEN CORPSES — Four Los Angeles men never made it home from a Newhall hunting expedition. The hunters had three deer (dead) strapped to the hood of their Model T when the driver tried to beat a train at a crossing. They didn’t. All four died.
BOOZE SQUAD. GOOD BAND NAME. — Our local “Booze Squad” made one of their easier and larger busts. Seems a flatbed truck, covered by canvas, was idling at a stop sign when a sheriff’s car pulled up next to it. The deputies could smell the pungent odor of sour mash. They let the truck mosey on its merry way, then followed at a distance to the Jules Villeuve Ranch in Railroad Canyon, next to the future Hart Park. A squadron of law enforcement officers surrounded the place and found a first-class operation that produced about 100 gallons of illegal moonshine a day. Luke Porfillio and Joe Salano were arrested and Joe had no problem making bail. He had $1,000 in cash in his pocket. In 1926? A thousand bucks was enough to buy two houses.
OCTOBER 24, 1936
A BIG PAIN IN THE SIDE — Albert Swall was one of the biggest movers and shakers of the day and was credited with helping to build the “modern” early 20th century downtown Newhall. On this date, he was rushed to a Los Angeles hospital for an emergency appendectomy.
DYING ALONE — Irishman Walter Parks was a lifelong bachelor and miner in the SCV since the 1880s here. The popular Placerita Canyon resident was found dead in his bed on this date.
OUR FORGOTTEN LITTLE INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT — As was often the custom, folks woke up to find our little Newhall International Airport filled with airplanes. NIA got the nickname because it made one mail run into Mexico a couple times a month, sometimes more, sometimes less. Glendale, the major air hub then, was fogged in — again — and dozens of planes had to divert up here for emergency landings and a night’s stay. Funny how this comes up nearly a century later because the new Burbank terminal just opened. I was just there a couple days ago. It’s amazing!
A MOTEL ON 99, MY ALMOST HOME! — Today, it’s right next to the Rice Canyon trails entrance and old-timers will remember the little cozy motor court on 99 (today, The Old Road). Retired Los Angeles City Councilman Charles H. Randall built those original cottages, finishing on this date in 1936. With all the flowers and landscaping, and nestled against the mountains, folks said it was one of the prettiest spots in the valley. Again, strange timing. My dad almost bought the whole place 70 years ago …
DO YOU MINE? — W.H. Crusan had a big mining operation up Bouquet Canyon. Few knew that he had a second love in his life — poetry. Crusan would disappear into the mountains for days to write prose.
OCTOBER 24, 1946
BEYOND IRONIC — Popular California Highway Patrol officer Bill Reardon spent his career trying to make the local highways safe. On this date, he was killed by a drunken 15-year-old girl driving a brakeless car. Reardon was directing traffic near Frenchman’s Flat when Lila Cordell Hopewell veered around traffic and ended Bill’s life. I imagine young Miss Hopewell was haunted her entire life by that …
ALL THE WAY IN HEAVEN — Louis Weingarten died of a heart attack on this date. He was the co-owner of the Halfway House up Sierra Highway.
POST WAR SOCIALISM? — In comparison, the figures today are not surprising. A study done by the State Department of Industrial Relations pointed out that there was one government employee for every 6.6 people in California. There were an estimated 455,000 people on government payrolls — municipal, county, state and federal. Of that figure, about a quarter million of them drew paychecks from Uncle Sam. Today? I did one of those Look ‘Em Up AI Things. Of California’s entire workforce, including teachers, the military and indie contractors, about 19% get paychecks from either federal, state and local governments. That doesn’t include those drawing pensions. So. Whenever you see a six-figure motorhome or $35,000 touring motorcycle on the highway, you might be waving at a retired CHP lieutenant or municipal public information officer. Eeeesh …
OCTOBER 24, 1956
LIFE IN THE BOONIES HAS ITS PRICE — Former top Hollywood photographer Art Campbell bought a place years ago near Bear Divide (at the top of Sand Canyon’s winding road). He was motoring into town when his Jeep’s engine — AND brakes — failed. Campbell tried scraping his 4-by against the side of the road to slow it down and ended up flipping it over. A passing miner a few hours later found Campbell still pinned under the Jeep. Art had four busted ribs.
A PEACHY SCHOOL — Since the 1880s, Newhall Elementary School District had just the one campus — Newhall Elementary nestled on Walnut. But as the valley grew, the trustees decided it was time to build a second campus. On this date, the board voted to buy the old Miller Ranch in Happy Valley. The district paid $3,500 an acre for the 12-acre campus, which would later be called Peachland.
GOOOOOOOoooooo, MINERS!!! — Around the same time, the Hart board decided what with the growth boom here, that Hart High couldn’t continue to house their seventh and eighth graders. They voted to look into building a junior high — the valley’s first. Today? People call these learning institutions, “junior high schools.” There’s six of them within the William S. Hart Union High School District.
OCTOBER 24, 1966
PUTTING THE ‘DIRTY’ IN DIRT BIKES — With the valley still a relatively wide-open space, a fairly new sport/annoyance, depending on which side you sat, was the dirt bike. Sheriff’s deputies took in about 15 complaints a day about trespassing and nose from the whiny two-stroke machines. Then, there was the danger of brush fires. Up to this point, the sheriff’s lawmen could only placate angry residents and watch helplessly as bikers tore up the hills and ravines. Their patrol cars obviously couldn’t give chase and running after a high-powered dirt bike was out of the question. On this date, the Sheriff’s department launched a special patrol of dirt-bike riding deputies who made numerous collars.
A HUMBLE & HEROIC GIANT — Terry Gibbs was a friend of mine in high school and he had an old-fashioned work ethic. The 6-foot-6 Terry was 16 then and had a job in Sylmar at an auto repair shop. He rose before sunrise every Saturday and walked the 16 miles — one way — to earn a small paycheck.
OCTOBER 24, 1976
DAM!!! — There were 96 dams in the county 50 years ago and Los Angeles wanted to know what happened if one of them — like, Bouquet — busted. Back then, about 7,000 people would have been, as they politely called it, “affected.”
CLAMMING UP — Phil Hoskins found a rare oyster in San Francisquito Canyon. It was the size of a Thanksgiving turkey. Don’t get out the hot sauce. The shell was from millions of years ago when we were underwater.
EL NINO? OR, JUST RAIN? — A freak thunderstorm unleashed its fury, dropping dime-sized hail on the valley and more than an inch of rain in less than an hour.
OCTOBER 24, 1986
HONEY WAS A HONEY — One of the neatest and oddest landmarks is the Warmuth Honey House up Sierra Highway. Today, I believe it’s part of the COC Canyon Country campus. Forty years back, the Warmuths announced plans to turn part of the honey house into a museum dedicated to apis melliflera. That’s the honeybee. Miss Honey Warmuth not only worked honey sales, she did custom leather and silver work and back then, made saddlery tack. She made a bunch of stuff from me over the years, from bridals to really cool and one-of-a-kind watch bands.
NEWHALLYWOOD — Dang it, I came up with that handle like 50 years ago and it sure has been used many times since. Newhall Land was doing a booming business as usual in real estate and agriculture, but also in filming. They had a special film liaison at the company, Weldon Sikes, who reported with all the movies made in 1986, the production location business at NL&F was up 700% from the previous year.
DIDN’T GIVE A CLUCK — Seven were killed when a big rig plowed into a slow-moving flatbed truck north of Castaic. On the bright side, hundreds escaped with minor injuries. By the way? The seven fatalities were all chickens. Well. Of the poultry variety. Not of the faint of heart …
WE NEED A 40-FOOT-TALL STATUE OF A RUBBER STAMP AT THE GATES TO THE CITY — Long ago a Santa Clarita political watchdog, Allan Cameron, said: “There is no longer any confidence among the people of the Santa Clarita Valley in the planning process of this county.” Cameron’s comments followed L.A.’s Regional Planning Commission’s rubber stamping of 7,437 more new homes for the SCV.
• • •
Well. As you’ve noticed, the horses have sensed the return to the stables and have picked up the pace. You folks mind that you don’t run over any chickens, real or metaphorical, in the coming days. Or, heck — ever — for that matter. Sure appreciate the company, dear friends and neighbors and look forward to another ride back into Santa Clarita lore and history with you. Until next weekend, see you back here at The Signal hitching post. Until then? I bid a fond — feliz casi Halloween (Happy Almost Halloween) y vayan con Dios, amigos!
Visit John Boston’s bookstore and eclectic online store with unique gifts for readers and writers at JohnBoston-Books.com. Lifelong SCV resident Boston, with 119 major writing awards and nearly 12,000 columns, is the most prolific humorist and satirist in world history.
