My family (wife Helen, son Tim, daughter Lily) and I moved to Montecito on July 4, 1986, so this short recollection of Montecito and Santa Barbara seems appropriate, particularly during this time of year.
Our house on Middle Road was already 40 years old. The good news for us was that we had found the flat, usable acre I insisted upon, along with a good-sized swimming pool and a small one-bedroom “cottage” in the back. The single-story ranch home was designed in 1937, just 12 years after an earthquake shook the area, so the adobe-style brick walls were fitted with steel rebar every six feet, making it virtually earthquake proof. World War II held up its construction, and it wasn’t finished until 1946. The two-car garage was made of redwood, and all the flooring was real oak.
It was somewhat expensive for the time, but still within reach of a middle-class income earner.
The bad news was that the roof was made of cedar shingles, which were then already forty-years old. We hardly saw any rain that first year (there was talk of a drought), so it wasn’t until our second year in the house that we realized our roof was not rain proof.
Not at all.
We didn’t have enough pans to catch the water that leaked from the various points in the ceiling. The cedar was charming, but until it swelled with water, was unreliable, and since it hadn’t rained for nearly 20 months or so, it was dry and brittle. It wasn’t until the water had seeped into the wall-to-wall carpeting in the dining room and living room that we discovered the beautiful oak flooring underneath.
We polished the floors and replaced the roof with concrete shingles.
The house had three wood-burning fireplaces, which we used extensively, especially the one in the living room. We spent nearly forty friendly and comfortable years in that home and miss it still. The circle of friends we made over those years, some of whom have now passed on, made life in Montecito a consummate pleasure.
Our Christmas parties were special, as nearly 100 family, friends, and guests, crowded around impresario Peter Clark at the piano and Erin Graffy, who led the song fest, which always featured Barry DeVorzon’s “It’s Christmas Once Again in Santa Barbara.” Sadly, both Peter and Erin are gone now, but the memory of their blissful performances remains vivid and alive.
Fireworks, Couches, and TVs, on West Beach
The Santa Barbara we moved to was, for want of a better term, a Free Zone. Our first Fiesta featured open drinking of beer and margaritas along the entire stretch of State Street and a parade of one of the largest contingents of silver-tinged saddled horses and riders in the U.S. On the beach, particularly West Beach, families and groups of friends would dig deep holes in the sand big enough to include upholstered chairs and couches, dining room tables, even television sets, along with an array of personal fireworks and the groups regularly fired bottle rockets upon nearby sandlords and each other with equal firepower. It was mayhem on a virtual battlefield with Old Glory flying in front of nearly every campsite. There were no “enemies,” only joyful combatants.
I can honestly say that I too loved the smell of incendiary devices in the morning.
Back in Montecito, Montecito Association president Diane Pannkuk and Dana Newquist, owner of a funky little shop in the upper village next to the post office, called Montecito Video (and yes, we all rented our movies from him or from Captain Video on Coast Village Road), conspired to create The Village Fourth, a parade of residents who’d march down from the top of School House Road, through the parking lot at Montecito Union School and across San Ysidro to lower Manning Park. It was surely one of the shortest Fourth of July parades ever. We had no permits and never asked anyone’s permission, but the whole village seemed to have turned out. The only local media to mention that there would even be a parade (there had never been one before) was the Montecito Journal, which I had founded and owned at the time, so I was naturally proud of the turnout.
The local Boy Scout troop (33, I believe) headed up the parade and Dana managed to corral some of his car buddies to decorate their vehicles with patriotic bunting. Internationally known Montecito resident Jonathan Winters, in full U.S. Marine dress regalia, marched as our very first Village Fourth Grand Marshal. Even newly arrived mogul Ty Warner attended, throwing hundreds of his signature product – Beanie Babies – out to parade watchers from the back of his vehicle.
After directing traffic and the parade participants, Dana got behind the wheel of his vintage firetruck to bring up the rear and to signify the end of the march. As many of as could hop on (including me) the back jumped aboard. We were armed, naturally, with water pistols and other paraphernalia. Diane’s husband, Terry Pannkuk, loaded up with a giant water cannon, and a knockdown splash party took place with water balloons flying and squirt guns blazing as we negotiated the 600-yard parade route.
There were hot dogs, hamburgers, and freshly baked cookies waiting for us in booths in Manning Park before and after we all sang the national anthem with hands on hearts. I don’t remember who led the singing, but I believe it was a young lady from the Music Academy of the West. A Montecito Union-Cold Spring School tug-of-war, potato sack races, and a pie-eating contest ensued.
Those were the days…
•••
There are no more “open drinks” allowed on State Street, the Fiesta Parade has moved one street over. The Village Fourth is back after a short hiatus because of Covid-19, and Dana and Mindy Denson have made sure it continues, though the water guns and Big Squirts were banned after the pandemonium of that first pageant.
Gangbangers from Ventura and other parts discovered the fun of West Beach anarchy and trouble resulted; that too is now verboten.
Community Calendar:
Got a Santa Barbara event for our community calendar? Fenkner@sbcurrent.com
What a privilege it was to be part of the community you describe. We preceded you by about 15 yrs and several vhs rentals at Capt Video, plus more than a few ice cream cones on the patio at B&Rs. I only hope the current generation is forming as many wonderful memories about their lives in Montecito-Santa Barbara as we did. Frankly, I suspect that modern, affluent, digital life has punctured and drained the soul of our community and, in the slightly-revised words of Hillary Clinton, "It Took The Village!"
Ahhh, the good old days!
Unfortunately, none of that is allowed in our “brave New World“