A View from Raymond Hill

Raymond Hill is situated on the north side of South Pasadena with panoramic views of Pasadena, San Marino and Los Angeles. The area has been the site of two very fancy, very doomed hotels. In 1886, the luxurious Raymond Hotel opened with great fanfare. It was built by Walter Raymond, owner of a Boston area travel agency who made his fortune packaging warm Southern California winter vacations to cold East Coast residents. Perhaps I should say that the Raymond opened with great fanfare. As a guidebook at the time pointed out, "It is not necessary that one should say Raymond Hotel. There is but one Notre Dame, but one Acropolis, but one Colossus, and so there is but one Raymond." But one Raymond burned to the ground in less than an hour on Easter Sunday in 1895.

So, the hotel was rebuilt at the turn of the century and served as a destination spot for several decades until it was consumed by the economic inferno of the Great Depression. As tourism dwindled in the years following the stock market crash, Walter Raymond could no longer pay the mortgage and eventually the hotel was destroyed by a wrecking ball.

The housing boom of the post-war mid 1940s to early 1950s brought new growth to Raymond Hill. Where the rich and famous once wined and dined, working families now filled dozens of modest apartment houses. Many buildings are still there, giving the place a distinct mid-century vibe that reminds me of a different Southern California Raymond: Raymond Chandler.

This view, looking out over Pasadena, makes me understand why Chandler saw Los Angeles as both dark and light. The cactus, the smokestacks, the city, the mountains -- it's such a study in contrast. Trouble boiling beneath a surface paradise. Flowers growing over a rotten underbelly. And wouldn't you know? As I was taking this shot, I smelled an overpowering scent of honeysuckle. Or, as Walter Neff said in the classic Chandler-penned film noir Double Indemnity, "It was a hot afternoon, and I can still remember the smell of honeysuckle all along that street..." Check out a great scene from the film right here.

(For all things related to Raymond Hill history, you can't beat Jane Apostol's magnificent book highlighted here. )

South Pasadena: City with a View

A little city with big views...

If you looked in the skies above South Pasadena in the fall of 1913, you might have seen aerialist Roy Knabenshue's amazing dirigible.  Sailing over 800 feet in the air, the flying machine thrilled locals.  For a whopping cost of $25 a ride, a brave traveler could experience what the press reported as "a daring adventure with spectacular views!"

Knabeshue, the first person to fly a dirigible in the United States, certainly knew he had picked a crowd-pleasing location.  The majestic San Gabriel Mountains were nestled in a lush, green valley.  It was an ideal setting to conduct pleasure flights for "brave gentlemen."

But ladies insisted that they be included, too...

The Castle Next Door

South Pasadena's historical Raymond Hotel is only a memory, but Pasadena's Castle Green reminds us of our region's whimsical and opulent past. Built in 1898 as annex to the world famous Hotel Green, the Castle Green is a 7-story Moorish delight.

At the turn of the last century, San Gabriel Valley residents and tourists could ride bikes on the Great California Cycleway -- Horace Dobbins' elevated wooden bike path leading from Hotel Green to just past South Pasadena's Raymond Hotel. Original plans called for the bike path to meander along the Arroyo, tunneling through the hills of Elysian Park all the way to Olvera Street in downtown Los Angeles. There were even plans for a Swiss dairy in Highland Park, and a grand casino called Merlemount to be built in South Pasadena's Lower Arroyo Park. (Learn more about the cycleway here and here with history of the freeway that eclipsed bike paths in my previous post here.) Although the cycleway was never completed (and South Pas never became a gambling mecca) the elevated bike path from Pasadena to South Pas was the place to see and be seen.

Only a a few remains of the cycleway can be found in South Pas -- a dirt path near the railroad tracks under the Oaklawn bridge and a canopied stretch adjacent to the freeway near Arroyo. The only traces left of the Raymond Hotel are remnants of the original river rock garden walls, the caretaker cottage (now the Raymond Restaurant) and a few of Walter Raymond's palm trees.

But the Castle Green still stands. It's a beautiful reminder of our region's history.

Exploring Oaklawn in South Pasadena

Explore Oaklawn with me!

In 1904, a brand new residential development was taking shape in a peaceful orange grove at the northern end of South Pas.  Although it contained only one large oak tree, it was called Oaklawn.  "The good life," South Pasadena Realty and Investment Company promised, "is in South Pasadena."

Remnants of the Raymond

If you drive around Raymond Hill today you might not notice this broken bit of river rock wall lining several of the streets. The quiet stretch of stone is all that remains of the world famous Raymond Hotel. At the turn of the last century wealthy patrons were shuttled to their grand hilltop accommodations via an elaborate underground subway tunnel and elevator -- the only hotel entrance of its kind in America. After checking out the posh digs, the guests could admire the 19 foot ceilings of the dining room, play golf or hike around the Raymond's extensive garden pathways. If they made it to this stone wall they could survey the vast flower fields which grew around the base of the property. Those flowers added to the Raymond's cachet. The hotel was hyped around the world as a floral "paradise on earth", with fresh cut flowers placed daily around the hotel and in all the rooms -- even during winter months.

I always look to see if there is an errant poppy or snapdragon blooming near the wall now -- more subtle reminders of what was once there.

Old World Charm

It's hard to imagine poor Walter Raymond back in 1934, fretting away his last days in the caretaker's cottage of his magnificent Raymond Hotel, late on the mortgage and gripped with panic as the Depression brought financial ruin and a wrecking ball destroyed his creation...

While the grand hotel has been gone for decades, the caretaker's cottage still remains. It's home to The Raymond Restaurant -- a perfect South Pas Craftsman setting to enjoy creative cocktails and California cuisine. The bar has been set up in one of the back rooms of the house overlooking this beautiful patio. After a few of those well-mixed cocktails, you might feel just like you are back at the turn of the last century enjoying the Raymond Hotel high life. (Not that I would know or anything...)

Branching Out

In South Pasadena, we love our trees so much we even let them grow in the street.

Many of you have probably noticed these lovely old oaks happily obstructing traffic in the middle of the private section of Chelton Way. But most of you probably don't know their controversial story...

Back in 1907, the area had been subdivided into what was known as the Ellersbie Park Tract by a wealthy woman named Carolyn Dobbins. She had spent a holiday at South Pasadena's posh Raymond Hotel. One day, while looking out over the expanse pastoral land surrounding the hotel, Mrs. Dobbins noticed the thicket of oak groves. She decided she was going to buy the parcel of land, leave her hometown of Philadelphia and move her family to South Pasadena to build a house in a paradise shaded by magnificent trees. The trees you see in this photograph are remnants of Mrs. Dobbins' dream landscape -- and designated as Cultural Heritage landmarks.

But that's not the best part of the story. Back in 1950, sweet, upstanding South Pasadena got a jump start on 1960s rebellion by fighting a spirited battle to save several of Mrs. Dobbins' other oak trees. The ones in question happened to be growing in the middle of Edgewood Drive. South Pasadena city government deemed the trees a "menace." The City Manager at the time called them a traffic hazard, "obstructions," with "no place in a modern community." The government wanted change. The residents wanted their trees, believing they were integral, valuable parts of South Pasadena. They wanted to keep them right where they were.

After heated City Council meetings, with passionate pleas made by numerous citizens, the council inexplicably made the decision to save two of the trees -- but cut down a third.

This is where things got interesting. One would think our kindly, rule-abiding townspeople would have accepted the compromise. Instead, when city workers showed up with their saws and a city ordinance granting permission to remove the hundred year old oak, they ran across a mob of angry townspeople. I am not sure if there were any pitchforks, but public record reported an automobile blockade, at least one snarling dog and a less-than-cordial group of men, women and children waving sticks, brooms and rolling pins.

"There is too much useless destruction going on in the world these days," one South Pas resident told a reporter for The Review. "...in a small way we're fighting for the same things our boys in Korea are fighting for. The maintenance of freedom and the carrying out of the wishes of the majority." Another anonymous resident wrote a letter to The Review in the form of a poem:

I think that I shall never see
A Council lovely as a tree.

The tree brings beauty to the town.
The Council orders it chopped down.

The writer concluded his Joyce Kilmer homage with this couplet:

Laws are made by men like these
But only God can make the trees.

The mid century treehuggers' story went 1950s viral -- gathering interest across the nation and symbolizing a group of ordinary people standing up against a government that didn't listen to its citizens. Telegrams and letters of support arrived from all over the country. "Save the trees!" They said. "Axe the City Council!"

After so much national coverage, the city government backed down and the trees were spared. While the beautiful old trees that stirred up such a debate eventually died of natural causes, their younger siblings on Chelton Way still thrive as reminders of South Pas heritage, preservation and, yes, proud symbols of ass-kicking rebellion. Right here in our polite little town.

For more on the great tree controversy, as well as other amazing stories about South Pasadena's past, you can't beat Jane Apostol's definitive South pas history book, South Pasadena 1888-1988 A Centennial History Second Edition with Chronology: 1988-2008. For more on Jane, you can take a look back at my interview with her from last year.

The Langham Huntington Pasadena

Sure, the Langham Huntington Pasadena is technically next door to South Pas, but it's close enough to feel like part of the neighborhood. Plus, exploring the grandeur of this early 20th Century hotel feels a little bit like going back in time to when South Pasadena's own Raymond Hotel was in its heyday. When you walk along the grounds of this gorgeous place, you can imagine what it was like back when Henry Huntington was his generation's big mover and shaker...

Then, you can come back to the 21st Century and take a digital photo of the cute baby ducks.

City with a View

I love grand, sweeping panoramas. For a city of only a few square miles, South Pasadena has an amazing number of beautiful views. (I actually wrote about it for Patch a few years ago.) Sure, a postcard view is an easy shot for a photographer when all you have to do is point your camera at a beautiful setting.

But what a payoff!

Former South Pas residents who have moved away often write me asking to post photos of specific views. A reader living in China asked if I had any stormy views from Monterey Hills looking toward the San Gabriels. Will you settle for snow?  Here you go...

For some truly remarkable view shots, check out The Library of Congress Panoramic Photograph Collection, 1851-1991. The images feature cityscapes, landscapes, bridges, waterways, natural disaster overviews and some pretty amazing old group portraits and beauty contests. I often go down the internet rabbit hole of vintage images.  Check out this great old shot of South Pasadena's historic Raymond Hotel. And for those of you who once read my Castle Green post, here's a great vintage image of Pasadena's famous Hotel Green. These photographs give us a long view of world history and offer a fantastic window into our shared past.

A version of this post was originally published in 2012

A Long View

I love grand, sweeping panoramas. For a city of only a few square miles, South Pasadena has an amazing number of beautiful views. (I actually wrote about it for Patch a while back.) Sure, a postcard view is an easy shot for a photographer when all you have to do is point your camera at a beautiful setting.

But what a payoff!

Former South Pas residents who have moved away often write me asking to post photos of specific views. Recently, a reader living in China asked if I had any stormy views from Monterey Hills looking toward the San Gabriels. Here you go...

For some truly remarkable view shots, check out The Library of Congress Panoramic Photograph Collection, 1851-1991. The images feature cityscapes, landscapes, bridges, waterways, natural disaster overviews and some pretty amazing old group portraits and beauty contests. (Check out this amazing shot of South Pasadena's historic Raymond Hotel! And for those of you who read my Castle Green post a few days ago, here's a great shot of Pasadena's famous Hotel Green.)These photographs give us a long view of world history and offer a fantastic window into our shared past.

History carved in ... asphalt

When the Arroyo Parkway (now known as the 110 or Pasadena Freeway) opened in December of 1940, it was hailed as a marvel of modern motoring. While the Pennsylvania Turnpike staked the claim of first United States freeway (opening in October of 1940,) the Arroyo Parkway came in a close second. In fact, some historians argue that it more closely matches the definition of a modern commuter freeway. Connecting downtown Los Angeles with Pasadena along the Arroyo Seco, it represented a huge leap from the early highway/parkway system. Here's a little perspective on what was considered so revolutionary at the time: engineers designed the curving road to accommodate modern speeds up to a whopping 45 mph.

The completion of the roadway came after decades of other failed or short-lived proposals dating back to 1895. The most interesting project has to be this one:

In 1897 -- at the height of a nationwide bicycle craze -- the California Cycleway Company purchased a 6-mile right-of-way from downtown LA to Avenue 54 in Highland Park. 1 1/4 miles of elevated wooden track were built between Pasadena's Hotel Green and South Pasadena's Raymond Hotel. In 1900 the bikeway opened to great fanfare, with high expectation of turning a profit. A toll booth was located in what is now Pasadena's present Central Park. (For 10 cents you could bike one-way. A round-trip fare was 15 cents.) But, as we all know, greater Los Angeles was destined for an automobile culture. The bikeway was eventually torn down and sold for scrap lumber in the first decade of the 20th Century.

But the Arroyo Parkway endures. In fact, the 110 remains largely as it was almost 60 years ago, right down to the original bridges and narrow lanes -- with modern-day SUVs taking those 45-mph curves at almost double the speed. It's considered a National Civil Engineering Landmark, a State Scenic Highway and a National Scenic Byway. Here -- during an oddly traffic-free moment -- it posed for an interesting study in high contrast. (Don't worry, I didn't stand on an overpass with my camera. I was in the passenger seat when my family was waiting at a red light.)

A Treehugger's Paradise in South Pasadena

Trees, trees and more South Pasadena trees!

We all know that South Pasadena has a lot of gorgeous old-growth and heritage trees.  But did you know that our city is part of Tree City USA?  South Pas meets the program's four requirements:

1. A tree board or department 

2. A tree care ordinance

3. An annual community forestry budget of at least $2 per capita

and...

4. An Arbor Day observance and proclamation.  (I'll admit, I've never officially observed Arbor Day.)

Tree cities not only look better than their more sparse cousins, they enjoy things like better storm water management, energy savings and increased property values.  As an unabashed treehugger, I agree that these are all good things.  But I think I'd love trees even if they offered nothing of tangible value.  Come on... they're beautiful, lush trees! What more do you want?

Before you click on the above video compilation of South Pas trees, I am reminded of my very favorite South Pasadena tree story.  I've told this one before, but it's worth a repeat:

A Post for Fellow Treehuggers...

Trees, trees and more South Pasadena trees!

I want to thank readers Johnny and Greenman for emailing me after yesterday's post on the library tree.  You guys asked if I had any video slideshows of my many (many!) tree pictures?  I aim to please...

But before you click on the above video, I am reminded of my very favorite South Pasadena tree story:

Great Reads by South Pasadena Authors

Intense reader.  Happy Dog.

It's time for another round of Let's Read Books by South Pasadena Authors!  From children's books to political commentary, history to literary fiction (and even cookbooks!) the list of books written by South Pas writers is long and varied.  Here are my reader picks for Fall 2017:

Luxe Life

In 1904, a new residential development called Oaklawn was taking shape on the north side of South Pas. The wide, tree-lined streets and sweeping Arts and Crafts showcase homes called for a unifying design in the neighborhood's lines of demarcation. The area was within walking distance to the famous Raymond Hotel -- a stomping ground for the rich and mighty -- and potential Oaklawn residents were tempted with promises of the good life in this "Suburb de Luxe." Advertisements for the neighborhood described it as a place "for those who want the best in every particular."

Apparently, that included walls and gates.

South Pasadena Realty and Improvement Company hired the firm of Greene and Greene to create the prestigious development's entrance gates and surrounding fence. The result? Clinker-brick platforms set with handpicked stones from the Arroyo and embellished with rustic timber, tile roofs and artisan-crafted wrought iron. The gates-- and the corresponding stone pillars on the surrounding walls -- seemed to encapsulate the Greene and Greene aesthetic, right down to the tapering boulders at the base and top of each pillar. As you can see by today's photo, the portals have weathered the last century well and are largely unchanged today. (Trust me, the gate on the other side of the street looks just as wonderful.) The good life, indeed.

(You can take a look at the original Greene and Greene design plans here. For more on Oaklawn, check out this article from American Bungalow Magazine here.)

Melancholia

"In a real dark night of the soul," F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote, "it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day." Scott knew a little something about living in Southern California. That inner storms rage here, even though the skies remain mostly blue. That there are a lot of starry smiles masking ulterior motives. He understood the surprising vagaries of this place. He quickly figured out the weird duality of paradise. He dealt with it mostly through gin bottles, discovering the way a couple of drinks made everything funnier, but a slew of them brought torrents of sad, the kind of sad that never fit in with all the palm trees and sunshine.

There is a rumor that Fitzgerald once got thrown out of South Pasadena's Raymond hotel. The story goes that he got drunk and said the place had too many god damned flowers. The same story has also been attributed to Charlie Chaplin... someone else who understood the light and dark of this part of the world, and the way both are yin/yanged here forever. And if you live in Southern California long enough, you'll spend time on both sides. Not all of us reach for a gin bottle. Some of us just crawl under the covers, instead.

It rained in South Pas yesterday. It was a good day for a bad mood. It was a good day for huddling in one of the lighter, lovelier parts of Los Angeles -- one with all those (wonderful) god damned flowers. It was a good day for lurking inside within your shadow while nature rinsed away some of the outside grime.

Three o'clock in the morning? Yeah. Definitely. But this time just for one day.

Shadow Boxes

So, I've been looking at a lot of Escher lately, can you tell? The shadows were so lovely at Charlie' yesterday, I couldn't resist trying to capture them.

UPDATE: Hey, check out my latest at South Pasadena Patch! I didn't realize it was being run today. It's a history of the Raymond Hotel with video montage of wonderful vintage pictures. I pretended to be Ken Burns and narrated the video.

Freeway Noir: 5

The hotel gleamed like platinum in spite all those dirty windows. She'd been fooled by flash before.  It was shiny, sure.  But it wasn't clean.

I'm dipping my toes into the dark side with Freeway Noir Week -- a series of monochrome shots taken out of the car window while stuck in traffic on the 110 freeway.  

And no, I wasn't driving the car --- but I was just driving my family crazy as I tried to channel the spirit of Raymond Chandler.