When the news cycle is a little slow, I turn to the repository of old columns handed over to me by Bob Bates, one of my predecessors.
In July of 1992, Bob reported that Seminary Valley homes were selling briskly, topping out at $277,850. Seven homes on the market were listed at prices ranging from $189,000 to $235,000. (A recent real estate broker mailed us a postcard last week that noted that our houses are selling for an average of $550,000. Wow.)
In a report that most certainly would not be filed in 2007, Bob noted in June of 1988 that citizen band radios were very popular targets for car thieves. He recommended getting a factory-installed model. Seminary Valley and Brookville still have their share of car break-ins; Bob’s advice to always lock your car and park it in a well-lit area still hold true almost 20 years hence.
Marjorie Olson and Bob wrote a fascinating column together in September 1982 describing how the Valley’s log cabin (on Pegram Street, just north of Polk Avenue) was constructed. They interviewed Chris Beatley, original owner Mayor Beatley’s son, who had just completed an addition to the original 600 square-foot building. Bob and Marjorie reported that the building has 320 logs, all hand-felled, notched and spiked. The longest logs Chris hauled from Warrenton were 33 feet long. The home features a wood-burning stove and an oil furnace; Chris selected and hauled all the dolomite and quartzite stone used to build the fireplaces and the terrace.
On the occasion of our oldest daughter Katie’s recent trip to Europe with 22 fellow T.C. Titans, I’ve had the opportunity to reminisce about a similar trip I took 30 years ago. I have marveled mostly at the ability to communicate. When I went to Spain as an AFS exchange student in the summer of 1977, I rarely called home. An international long-distance call was very expensive. Katie’s Cingular cell phone worked beautifully, and e-mail service (with pictures!) was fantastic. I wrote letters every day, mailing a big letter every week, and I remember getting a few telegrams from home. I also could not help but remember that in pre-ATM days, banks were only open Monday through Friday. My father had to get the president of the Santa Ynez Valley Union Bank to open up on a Saturday so he could get some cash for the trip. I made that $200 last for nine weeks to avoid my parents having to wire me more money. (The peseta went pretty far in those post-Franco days).
If anyone would like to pore over the old Gazette columns (or maybe scan them into a digital file), please let me know. They are a precious record of our neighborhood’s history.
— Mia Jones
Patrick.jones44@verizon.net