Friday, December 12, 2025

The Historic Egan Homestead, Laguna Beach

Egan homestead, South Laguna, circa 1910

Dr. Lee C. Hanson writes, “Tucked away on Valido Road [in South Laguna], there is an old, battered house. It has withstood the elements for over one hundred years, capturing within its walls the laughter and tears of a resilient pioneer family—the Egans [no relation to Capistrano’s Judge Richard Egan] who built the house and cultivated the land.”

Hanson notes that “the Design Review Board of Laguna Beach approved the demolition of the Egan homestead house . . . last September. An appeal will be heard by the City Council on January 13,” and that Village Laguna, the South Laguna Civic Association, and other concerned members of the community are coming forward to push for the preservation of the building. They are hoping other will join them.

Esther and Frances Egan in the bean fields in front of their home (Courtesy First American Corp.)

“The remarkable story of this pioneer family and their historic home,” is now being told by Hanson in a serialized history in Stu News Laguna, entitled "The House on Valido Road." Here are links to the articles already published:”

1. Homestead Challenge

2. Homestead Honeymoon

3. Dwelling, House, Home

4. Farm on Fire

5. See How It Grew

6. Hearth and Home

Installments in the series still awaiting publication include:

7. Egan Family Traditions (Dec. 19)

8. Resilience (Jan. 2)


Wednesday, December 10, 2025

Cody Hungerford on history of Westminster schools

Image of L. P. Webber School, circa 1957, from Cody Hungerford's report, along with an inset of the school's namesake, town founder Rev. Lemuel P. Webber.

In addition to the well-known story of Mendez v. Westminster, there's much more to know about the history of the Westminster School District. Luckily, Westminster Historical Society board member and local historian Cody Hungerford has spent the better part of a year researching that history. He's not done yet, but the first fruits of his labor are already available to the public.

Cody is a special education paraeducator at Westminster's Meairs Elementary School and is also the son of a WSD teacher and PTA member. We all have our favorite subjects in local history, and for obvious reasons, education in Westminster is one of his. 

He recently presented a report on the history of each of the district's currently active schools before the WSD Board. For his efforts he was given a commendation by District Trustee David Johnson, and -- better yet -- the Board decided to add Cody's school histories to the websites of each school. 

Cody Hungerford, presenting his report to the WSD Board, Fall 2025 

Cody tells me he's found a lot more information on the district and individual schools than it was possible to include in the limited format of his report. He's continuing his research which may well evolve into a book. Meanwhile, here are links to his short-form histories on the websites for each of the WSD's schools:

Saturday, November 08, 2025

Dr. Arthur A. Hansen (1938-2025)

A great historian, a gifted teacher, a true friend of Orange County history, a powerful voice for civil rights, and a man with a tremendous heart, Dr. Arthur August “Art” Hansen died on Oct. 29, 2025 after a long illness. 

Art taught and guided students for 43 years as a professor of History and Asian-American Studies at CSU Fullerton. He was a trail blazer in gathering, studying, and writing about Japanese-American history for almost 60 years. His research specialization was resistance activity within the World War II Japanese American exclusion and detention experience. Art was also a leading light in the field of oral history; served on the boards of countless historical organizations, and provided a rare welcoming home for Orange County history in academia. In the process, he made the world a better place than he found it. 

Art never hid his feelings. From furious indignation in the face of injustice; to high enthusiasm for his work and his favorite sports; to deep sadness at the loss of a friend; to effusive kindness, to love and empathy for all in his life, no one ever wondered where he stood. 

His students found his vast knowledge, mentorship, and often lifelong friendship invaluable and inspiring. 

“His care and concern was uplifting, joyous, and affirming,” said Tracy Smith Falk, who, like fellow Orange County Historical Society board member Stephanie George, was lucky enough to have Hansen as both a professor and her boss. 

“Art supported and participated in elevating and celebrating local history and local historians,” said Falk. “He mentored his students to be the best writers, researchers, oral historians, and people they could be. He taught them to seek out the full story and uncover all the experiences that made Orange County so diverse, interesting and unique. He led several conferences celebrating Orange County history and brought together wide groups of people to then discovered common interests.”
Dr. Hansen (dark blue shirt) on a 2011 panel about Historic Wintersburg at the Orange County Historical Society.
Born October 10, 1938, in Hoboken, New Jersey, Arthur Hansen was born to Haakon A. & Anna Stover Hansen. (Art was always proud of his Norwegian heritage.) His older brother, Roy, also became a university professor. 

Art’s love of baseball began early, and he always kept his grades up, so he could play. (He would later become a big fan of Cal State Fullerton baseball and always had season tickets.)

The Hansens valued education so much that Art’s father decided to move the family to California, so his boys could attend Cal Tech. Misunderstanding where Cal Tech was located, and confusing it with Cal Poly, they ended up near Santa Barbara, settling in Goleta after learning that the new UC Santa Barbara would soon be built there. Ironically, Art briefly attended Cal Berkeley before deciding to enroll in UCSB after all. There, he earned his BA, MA, and PhD in history.  

While working on his PhD, he lived in Laguna Beach and taught at Tustin High School before accepting a position at California State University Fullerton in 1965.

Art met Debra L. “Debbie” Gold at CSUF and they were married in Maine in June 1977. Debbie also has a PhD in History and later taught library science classes at San Jose State University School of Information. The two were an impressive team and they split their time between their two homes in Yorba Linda and Los Osos.

Art taught at CSUF from 1966 until 2008, making a national name for himself as a professor of History and Asian American Studies and a central figure in the university’s Oral History Program (later called the Center for Oral & Public History or COPH and now The Lawrence de Graaf Center for Oral and Public History). He taught classes in local history, community history, and oral history methodology, as they related to Orange County and the world at large.  
Dr. Art Hansen with Stephanie George and Chris Jepsen at the Japanese American National Museum, Nov. 2023.
There aren’t enough terabytes on the Internet to list all his accomplishments and all the hats he wore during those years, but here are a few of them:
  • Founding director of the Japanese American Project of the CSUF Oral History Program (1972)
  • Founding faculty member of the Asian American Studies Program at CSUF
  • Director of the Center for Oral and Public History, CSUF
  • Visiting Professor, California Polytechnic State University, San Luis Obispo (1979-1980)
  • Editor, Oral History Review (1980-1987)
  • President, Southwest Oral History Association (1991-1992)
  • President, Oral History Association (2002-2003)
  • Senior Historian, Japanese American National Museum (2001-2005) 
  • James V. Mink Oral History Award-winner, Southwest Oral History Assoc. (1988)
  • Named Outstanding Teacher, College of Humanities & Social Sciences, CSUF (1996-1997)
  • Named Outstanding Faculty Member, College of Humanities & Social Sciences, CSUF
  • Distinguished Faculty Member, College of Humanities & Social Studies, CSUF (2001-2002)
  • Distinguished Lifetime Achievement Award from the Association for Asian American Studies (2007)
Art was also a prolific writer and editor. Just a few of his many, many publications included,
  • Reflections on Shattered Windows: Promises and Prospects for Asian American Studies (1987, co-editor)
  • Japanese American Evacuation World War II Oral History Project [5 volumes] (1992-2005, editor/author)
  • Barbed Voices: Oral History, Resistance, and the World War II Japanese American Social Disaster (2018, author)
  • Manzanar Mosaic: Essays and Oral Histories on America’s First World War II Japanese American Concentration Camp (2023)
  • Nisei Naysayer: The Memoir of Militant Japanese American Journalist Jimmie Omura (2018, editor & introduction)
  • Beyond the Betrayal: The Memoir of a World War II Japanese American Draft Resister of Conscience (2022, editor)
  • A Nikkei Harvest: Reviewing the Japanese American Historical Experience and Its Legacy (2024, author)
Many also remember Art raising money from the Japanese American community for the building of the 8,500-square-foot Orange County Agriculture and Nikkei Heritage Museum at the Fullerton Arboretum (at CSUF), which opened with an excellent exhibit in 2007. But despite promises made, the University scuttled the museum as soon as Art retired and they had the donations in hand. This infuriated and saddened Art.

In retirement, Art served as Emeritus Professor of History and Asian American Studies at CSUF; wrote, edited and lectured extensively; continued to serve as historian for the Japanese American National Museum; and won the Manzanar Committee’s 2014 Sue Kunitomi Embrey Legacy Award.
At one point in his later years, he suffered a heart attack while delivering a presentation at CSUF.  True to form, he insisted on finishing his program before being taken to the hospital. He recovered from the heart attack, but there would be other health challenges ahead. Through it all, he continued to research, write, and edit – even in the last week of his life.

Dr. Art Hansen will be truly missed by all who knew him, including the Orange County historical community. His good work, however, will continue, through the oral history programs he started, through the interviews he conducted, through a library’s-worth of articles and books he wrote, and through the organizations he helped create and build. He will also live on through his students and their work, and through those who in turn, learned from his students. Art will always be with us.

Thanks to Tracy Smith Falk, Stephanie George and Debra Gold Hansen for their help with this article.


SUGGESTED VIEWING:

Friday, October 24, 2025

Happy O.C. History Halloween!

Excelsior Creamery float in Anaheim Halloween Parade, circa 1950s (Photo courtesy O.C. Archives)

While goblins and gremlins aren't real, the stories we tell each other about "things that go bump in the night" are a very real part of our cultural history. So too are the many ways we've celebrated Halloween over the years. In that spirit, here are links to some of my past Halloween-themed or otherwise spooky/weird posts. Enjoy!: 

Saturday, October 18, 2025

Count Ostoja Rises from his Grave

Count Ostoja with skewers through his tongue and palm

“1926 – Burial of Polish mystic and chicken mesmerizer Count R. Ostoja, sponsored by Santa Ana Junior Chamber of Commerce. Time and place to be announced. The Count is not dead – yet.”   

-Jim Sleeper. “Curious County Calendar of Weird Events,” Jim Sleeper’s Orange County Almanac of Historical Oddities (3rd edition)

If that blurb isn’t Uncle Jim challenging us to (ahem) dig up the rest of the story, I don’t know what is. 

And what a challenge! Almost everything ever printed about Mieszko Roman Maszerek Maszerski (a.k.a. Count Roman Ostoja) requires an asterisk and a large grain of salt. But here’s the story as best as I can currently determine it,...

Mieszko Roman Maszerek Maszerski was born on August 16, 1887 – supposedly in Lodz, Poland. He later claimed that in his youth he discovered his ability to read minds. He also professed to having earned a medical degree and studying psychology. 

Rabbits and chickens don't mezmerize themselves, you know.

According to a 1958 UPI article for which Maszerski/Ostoja was interviewed, he was the "son of a famous Polish general. His father had been executed in the first World War, and his mother had given him money and sent him to India. There he found a guru who took him into the Himalayas and taught him the ancient yogi secrets. ...He came to [the U.S.] at the invitation of . . . Dr. William McDougall, then a Harvard University psychologist, to lecture on auto-suggestion, hypnosis and telepathy."

Among other things, McDougall studied psychic powers, was a proponent of animism and eugenics, and was instrumental in making parapsychology a discipline in U.S. universities.

Maszerski/Ostoja first arrived in the United States in or around 1923. After his time with McDougall was done, he settled briefly in Cleveland, Ohio. He then returned to Poland for a short time and perfected the schtick that would be his bread and butter from then on. He toured Europe and demonstrated his supposed mystical abilities before audiences.

The old Mount Washington Hotel became the Self-Realization Fellowship headquarters

He officially immigrated to the U.S. in 1925 and took his act on the road, travelling throughout the country. This time he settled in Los Angeles where he studied with Swami Paramahansa Yogananda, who was a Hindu monk, a yogi (teacher), the "Father of Yoga in the West," and the founder of the Self-Realization Fellowship. 

Somewhere along the way, Maszerski began claiming he was a Polish nobleman and calling himself Count Roman Miesko Ostoja Maszerski, which was often shortened to “Count Roman Ostoja.” He would later make Roman Ostoja his legal name. 

The Clan Ostoja were powerful knights and lords in medieval Eastern Europe and continued to maintain some of their aristocratic clout into the 20th Century. So, like the title of “Count,” the surname Ostoja further underscored his assumed noble roots. That said, he occasionally skipped the nobility routine and used the stage name “Notre Damus” – an attempt to take on the mystic mantle of the 14th Century French seer “Nostradamus.” Never pitched as entertainment, but more like an educational Chautauqua program, Ostoja’s “show” primarily toured the West Coast. Although not a large man, this muscular, dark-eyed, and exotically-accented purveyor of woo-woo had an impressive stage presence.

The site of Ostoja's 1926 Santa Ana burial would become the site of the Santora Building (1929)

At 1:31 p.m. on October 11, 1926, at an event sponsored by the Santa Ana Junior Chamber of Commerce, Ostoja "cast himself into a catacleptic trance" and was buried about six feet deep in a wooden coffin (loaned by Winbigler's Mission funeral home) in a vacant lot on the northeast corner of 2nd Street and Broadway. (Ground would be broken on that lot for the Santora Building in 1928.) A crowd of several thousand gathered to watch the proceedings. A team of Santa Ana's best-known physicians, including Dr. C.D. Ball and R. A. Cushman, were on hand to observe the entire process. Ostoja was disinterred two hours later with only a racing pulse (176 beats per minute) to show for his ordeal. If anyone figured out the trick, they were good enough sports not to announce it to the media.

 Ostoja then described the sensation of being "dead" to the audience. He then stuck pins through his cheeks, supposedly using his force of will and powers of concentration to keep himself from bleeding. He claimed he could locate hidden articles while in a hypnotic state. He also offered to tell the directors of the Jaycees the dates they would each die, but everyone passed on the offer. 

Ostoja followed up his public feats by appearing that night at the Junior Chamber's regular meeting at Ketner's Cafe and by putting on a performance the following week at the West Coast-Walker Theater.

Ad from the Santa Ana Register, Oct. 15, 1926

A December 1953 article about Ostoja in the sensational Fate Magazine (a pulp dedicated to the paranormal), entitled “Man of Miracles,” described and exaggerated Ostoja’s buried alive trick, claiming that he’d remain buried for multiple days “to prove that man can survive for long periods of time in a state of suspended animation without air, food or water.” 

Actually, the period he remained buried (assuming he actually was) was usually more like three hours. 

According to Fate, Ostoja would always begin by going into a hypnotic state, where “During the process he turned his tongue backward and swallowed it, so as to allow no air to enter and leave is lungs.” Supposedly, physicians would then verify that he had no pulse.

Ostoja about to be placed in his "grave" by local businessmen

Apparently, in later years, Leo Tolstoy and his wife Sophia witnessed one of these demonstrations, but after an hour Sophia insisted they dig Ostoja up. Sure enough, he was about to suffocate. 

Hobnobbing with celebrities became a habit for Ostoja, beginning with famous muckraker Upton Sinclair.

By 1928, he was hanging around with Sinclair so often that the author called Ostoja "practically a member of our family." Ostoja even appeared as the character Jan in Mental Radio, Sinclair’s book about his wife’s Mary’s experiments in telepathy. This notoriety put him on the radar of even more notable personalities, including Tolstoy.

Ostoja with Tolstoy. (Oy, such a headache!)

Ostoja returned to Orange County in March 1928, possibly stumping for his new book, Mind Made Visible, published and with a foreword by Mary Sinclair. While here, he gave two demonstrations of his uncanny abilities at the Santa Ana Ebell Clubhouse. 

"Ancient teachings of the Hindu masters demonstrated," claimed a 1928 newspaper ad. "The science of mental healing and bodily control fully explained. The sick are invited to come and be relieved."

Most of the program time was taken up with a lecture about his psychological theories. But a film of his earlier 1926 Santa Ana "buried alive" stunt was shown. Then he eventually got around to mind reading and faith healing. He followed it up by mesmerizing a chicken and a rabbit, and by lying on a bed of nails while a 230-pount man stood on his chest. It was not high-water mark for the otherwise education-focused Ebell Club.

Santa Ana Valley Ebell Club, Santa Ana, circa 1930s

In any case, with his growing number of celebrity friends and contacts, Ostoja had bigger plans than staying on the (mesmerized) rubber chicken circuit forever. He would peddle his hokum to more influential folks than the Jaycees and Ebell Clubs.  

In 1931, Albert Einstein was in Los Angeles to visit the Mount Wilson Observatory and the Sinclairs talked him and several other prominent scientists into attending a séance conducted by Ostoja. Other invitees included Richard Tolman, who would soon become chief scientific adviser to the Manhattan Project; and Caltech professor of theoretical physics Paul Epstein. Sinclair hoped to convince these skeptical men of science of his open-minded brand of spiritualism.

The Fate Magazine article described the demonstration, stating that “a chair rose to the ceiling, books flew out of a bookcase, and some of the participants had their faces slapped and their hair pulled.”

Part of a booklet promoting "Mind Made Visible" programs

According to George Pendle – author the biography of rocket scientist John Parsons, Strange Angel – the event actually went quite differently. 

“Ostoja went into a cataleptic trance and began mumbling incomprehensible words,” wrote Pendle, telling the tale as it was recalled by Einstein’s secretary, Helen Dukas. “Each of the guests was invited to ask him questions. Silence fell, the table shook, and then . . . nothing happened. Sinclair was distraught. He grumbled about non-believers being present at the table.”

By 1934 Ostoja was on the road with his show as "Dr. Yogi Roman Ostoja, Ph. D.," which was sponsored by Swami Yogananda. At the time, Ostoja was said to oversee the Healing Department at the Swami’s Self Realization Fellowship. He continued to tour the West Coast throughout the 1930s and 1940s. 

In December 1935, Ostoja married Anna Melnik in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. 

Roman Ostoja

By 1936 Ostoja had given himself another promotion and was introducing himself as the "Rev. Dr. Roman Ostoja, Great Western Master of the Ordeal of the Orient,” and “the only white Yogi in America.” Americans’ fascination with and reverence for European counts, dukes and dauphins had faded. But being a “doctor” in the age of science was a boon to his credibility.

He settled in Hollywood in the late 1930s, filed for divorce from Anna in December 1938, and became a naturalized citizen on April 28, 1939 at which point he officially changed his legal name from Mieszko Roman Maszerek Maszerski to Roman Ostoja.

Around the same time, he founded the Institute of Infinite Science, Inc., located at 2414 W. 7th Street in Hollywood. He described Infinite Science as "the quintessence of all science, scripture, philosophy, psychology and religion."

Cover of 1940s promotional pamphlet

He offered a variety of nonmedical healing at the Institute and became well-known for curing all manner of ailments. He primarily presented himself as a Westernized yogi, combining the teachings of the East with the new Western psychology, thus providing a form of Hinduism more palatable to modern Westerners. He shared his healing techniques with students as an integral part of his spiritual and metaphysical teachings.

The teachings of Ostoja combined the yoga teachings of Yogananda with New Thought metaphysics. The object was, he said, to produce through concentration and will power, “both self-mastery and the identity of the deepest level of the self with the Infinite One, Mind, Self of All, God.” 

According to the Encyclopedia of American Religions, Ostoja “taught the yoga disciplines, especially pranayama (breathing) for the development of the will and the use of suggestion and autosuggestion as a means of projecting ideas into the mind. Once in the mind, ideas could be a force for good, such as controlling the body in the cure and prevention of disease.”

Ads in the Los Angeles Times, Oct. 25, 1947

In mid-January 1946, Ostoja made the news when Miss Louise Hunt, his part-time secretary at the Institute (or “Infinite Science cult” as the Los Angeles Times called it), asked him to “make her into a jungle woman” so that she would live in the wild. Apparently, Ostoja was trying to dissuade Hunt when she pulled out a .25-caliber pistol and shot herself in the head. She went to the hospital in critical condition. Although it’s unclear if Hunt survived, her home was being advertised as vacant and for rent just a couple weeks later. Ostoja was not charged with any wrongdoing.

The 1950 U.S. Census shows Ostoja living in Los Angeles with three younger, unmarried, female lodgers: Sophie Peterson, 48; Hazel Favot, 40; and Dorothea Zaph, 24.

As the last vestiges of the traveling show and vaudeville era gave way to television, Ostoja altered his act accordingly. Being buried alive for hours, for instance, wasn’t a trick well suited to a broadcast studio or a five-minute segment of a thirty-minute variety show. Although he continued to tour, his act had to evolve if he wanted a larger audience.

Ostoja lying on a bed of nails

By 1957 he was lying on swords while people dropped boulders on him, walking on hot coals, jamming hat pins through his tongue and palm without blood or pain, and visiting other planets while in a trance. "The people of Mars are not little green men," he said. "They are taller than we. And the people of Venus are round, how shall I say, plump." 

He also encouraged the drinking coffee and the smoking of cigarettes, saying they both "have vitamin B-12." (Both of these assertions are patently false.)

By then, Ostoja claimed he’d been buried for up to fourteen consecutive days with no ill effect. He also claimed he had shared or taught his mystical skills to 250,000 people, including such celebrities as Leopold Stokowski, Aldous Huxley, Dick Powell, Joan Blondell, Lana Turner, Anna May Wong. 

Promotion of Ostoja, focused on his links to Hollywood stars.

His TV appearances increased is fame, which meant more and better bookings for in-person appearances. These appearances, in turn, increased his visibility with television executives looking for something interesting to broadcast. He became, as one newspaper columnist put it, one of the “most popular cosmic consultants” in showbiz.

Ostoja played Carnegie Hall on Oct. 27 and 28, 1958, where he ate glass, walked barefoot on broken glass, was "hit over his stomach with a 40-pound sledgehammer," and performed other amazing feats. Among the attendees was Tonight Show host Jack Paar, who was a fan and had showcased Ostoja on his program. 

By the late 1950s and early 1960s, Ostoja was putting on performances all over the United States an even in Canada. Appeared on Steve Allen's show in August 1964, firewalking. His billing was last after a Beatles spoof by Santa Ana's John Raitt and Cliff "Charley Weaver" Arquette.

From the Belleville News Democrat, Jan. 3, 1958

But for all his fame, the Air Force was underwhelmed with his offer to train future astronauts how to "withstand the emotional and physical stress of rocket flight into outer space, and also to be able to go without nourishment, if necessary." Nonetheless, the offer got him more media attention.

Around the peak of his fame, in 1964, Ostoja seemed to largely disappear from public view.

Despite all his mystical powers, he died June 9, 1974 in Los Angeles County. The Institute of Infinite Science disappeared. But for many years, Ostoja Laboratories of Reseda, California, continued to make and sell a Peruvian tree oil healing balm developed by the yogi. He also left behind an assortment of books and booklets, including Mind Made Visible (1928), Body and Mind Control (1949), and A New Revolutionary Way of Eating (1954), -- all of which sell for remarkable prices on eBay today.

And despite the many times his burials were covered in the press, the whereabout of Ostoja’s actual mortal remains are unknown. Perhaps he will appear at a séance or through a Ouija bord someday. Or perhaps he’ll claw his way out of whatever grave he’s in – fresh as a daisy and awaiting another round of applause.

Tuesday, September 30, 2025

The Carlton Chronicle rides again!

Last week, Newspapers.com added 111 titles to their searchable database. So of course, I had to see if any Orange County newspapers were included. Imagine my surprise to see the Carlton Chronicle on the list – a paper I’d never heard of, let alone seen! Then imagine my surprise upon seeing that only one issue – the inaugural edition of February 25, 1888 – was available! 

On the other hand, this one issue appears to account for 50% of the Carlton Chronicle’s run, which continued for one more weekly issue, only to go AWOL during the second week of March 1888. 

Carlton, wrote Phil Brigandi, was “a failed townsite laid out in 1888 near Prospect Avenue and Imperial Highway in what is now Yorba Linda. It was surrounded by the Olinda Tract and consisted of scores of tiny little lots. But the Boom of the Eighties had already burst when Carlton when on the market and the town never went anywhere.”

One of the best features in the first edition is this map.

The Chronicle was just one of numerous efforts to make the doomed town seem viable to potential investors. It featured articles with headlines like "A Brilliant Future -- Carlton's Flattering Prospects" and "How We Progress: Rapid Development of a New Town in Southern California." Above the fold on page one was an article entitled, "How Blizzards Work," giving the impression that folks in Carlton were altogether unfamiliar with the concept of bad weather.

In short, today's historian isn't going to glean as much information about the few residents of Carlton as they might like from these four pages. But it's a great document of one of the many Southern California boom towns that fizzled in the late 1880s and how they tried to promote themselves.

To make sure nobody igonored it, the Chronicle's masthead was printed in red – an unusual feature mocked by other local papers, including the Los Angeles Tribune and the Anaheim Gazette. The Santa Cruz Sentinel also commented on "the redheaded Carlton Chronicle, published by a green firm in a fresh Los Angeles county burg..."  

The Chronicle was published by the "Carlton Printing and Publishing Co." and printed in Los Angeles. There were plans to begin printing it in Carlton within a month of the first edition, but the little rag didn’t survive that long.

If you know where to find the second and final edition of the Carlton Chronicle, drop me a line.

Tract map of Carlton (Not from the pages of the Chronicle.)

Friday, September 19, 2025

The Hotel Rossmore, Santa Ana

An early view of the Brunswick/Rossmore Hotel, Santa Ana

The Hotel Rossmore, which stood at the northwest corner of 4th and Sycamore streets in Santa Ana, opened in about 1887 as the Hotel Brunswick: a "boom era" tourist hotel financed in part by city father William "Uncle Billy" Spurgeon and operated by W. W. Ward. 

Of course, the railroad boom went bust, and by the early 1900s, it was redubbed the Hotel Rossmore. It eventually became known for catering to traveling salesman. 

The Woolworth's building, on the same location, as of Sept. 2025.

The Rossmore was badly damaged in the so-called "Long Beach Earthquake" of March 10, 1933. In fact, two people were killed as they exited the hotel onto 4th Street and were immediately buried by falling rubble. In the quake's aftermath, the hotel was largely demolished and only partly rebuilt. The new iteration, called the New Rossmore Hotel, had 32 room -- half its original number.

Postcard image of the destruction at the Rossmore Hotel in 1933. Arrow over the door shows where two people were killed by falling debris.

Having finally become unprofitable, the hotel closed on May 1, 1950 and plans were made for a new Woolworth's "five-and-dime" store to be built in its place. Woolworth's had previously been in another building on 4th Street, which had also been badly damaged in the 1933 quake.

The leases for the last tenants in the hotel building were up in 1952 and demolition began promptly thereafter, followed by the construction of Woolworth's. The new store opened in February 1953. 

Woolworth's was a fixture and a staple for locals in the years before shopping malls took over the retail landscape. But the times did change, and in 1992 Woolworth's closed. In the decades since, the building has housed other businesses, including Fallas Paredes and now the El Vaquero clothing store.

Saturday, August 16, 2025

Anaheim Valencia Growers Association

Famed attorney, congressman, and Secretary of State Daniel Webster (1782-1852) adorned The Webster Brand of citrus from Anaheim Valencia Growers Assoc. It was likely a sly reference to founder and manager William Webster.
In late 1922, the booming growth of Orange County's citrus industry led to the formation of yet another citrus cooperative: The Anaheim Valencia Growers Association (AVG). By December, organizers William L. Benchly of the Benchly Fruit Co. of Fullerton and William Webster of the California Fruit Growers Supply Co. were trying to sell stock in the new venture. It appears they only convinced one other investor to come aboard -- Fullerton attorney Guss Hagenstein -- as these three men were later listed not only as the company's first board members but also as the only stockholders.

On January 3, 1923, the Anaheim Valencia Growers Association filed incorporation papers with the County Clerk. From the start, AVG was affiliated with the California Fruit Growers Exchange and its fruit would carry the Sunkist brand and benefit from their promotional and distribution prowess. 

As historian Phil Brigandi liked to say, "Sunkist could have taught Disney a thing or two about marketing."

Anaheim Valencia Growers stock certificate (Courtesy Gil Gerhardt)

Coordinating with the formation of AVG, the Santa Fe Land Improvement Co. built a new 90-foot by 130-foot packing house along the railroad tracks at 805 E. Center St. (now Lincoln Ave.) in Anahiem. The architect was Frank K. Benchley, and the builder was Dan Coons -- both of Fullerton. The Santa Fe immediately leased the packing house to the new Anaheim Valencia Growers, which began operating in the building on May 28, 1923. Once in operation, William Webster served as the association's manager and L. E. Cameron worked as their field representative.

AVG's brands included Lincoln (fancy), Webster (extra choice), and Robert E. Lee (Red Ball).

Crate labels helped commercial buyers easily spot specific brands and qualities of citrus from across large produce warehouses back East. 

As author Tom Pulley put it, the Association "failed to attract enough acreage to become profitable." So AVG looked for additional revenue streams in an effort to stay afloat. In June 1924, they began promoting their new orange juice and made free samples available in local stores. And in 1925, Orange County Citrus Products began subletting AVG's packing house as their own plant, producing orange, lemon and grapefruit juice, as well as their Golden Orange and Royal Orange drinks, made from "culls."

But the efforts with juice only forestalled the inevitable. In March 1926, the Anaheim Valencia Growers Association closed. They sold their stock, supplies, and lease on their packing house to the Olive Fruit Co. Olive had by then become the largest "cash buying organization" in the area and needed a larger facility to pack the ever-increasing quantities of oranges. 

AVG was dead. 

How dead? 

In 1928, it made an appearance in the delightfully titled Marvyn Scudder Manual of Extinct or Obsolete Companies

That's pretty dead.

But at least the organization's name would make a comeback. 

On January 9, 1936, the Anaheim Orange & Lemon Association -- having not handled lemons since 1931 -- finally decided to change its name. It was hard to imagine a more succinctly descriptive replacement than "Anaheim Valencia Growers Associaton." And thus, the old name was rinsed off and recycled. This was an entirely different organization than the original AVG, and with utterly different management (Gerald W. Sandilands was secretary/co-founder/manager), but would similarly find itself expanding into the orange juice business to bolster revenue. 

The "new" Anaheim Valencia Growers Association ceased operations at the end of the 1957 season and closed the following year, as Orange County's golden citrus era drew to a close.

Is it a cooincidence that General Robert E. Lee -- the commander of the losing Confederate States Army -- was used to represent AVG's second-quality "Red Ball" citrus, while their highest quality fruit was represented by The Lincoln Brand?


Many thanks to Tom Pulley and Jane Newell for their help with this article.