Greetings, fellow Avilones. I am dedicating this month’s column to the memories of Avila past, or some might say Avila lost. It was with no absence of sentiment – alternating between laughter, sadness and melancholy – that more than 100 of us sat during the Foundation’s Avila Storyteller’s Night event on October 20th as witness to some very personal and passionate tales of Avila lore – some dating back as early as the 1940s and 1950s. I enjoyed that evening, listening to stories of children growing up in Avila during World War II; of parents sending their kids to the beach to be watched over by friendly lifeguards; of businesses long since gone that catered to a grateful and loyal patronage; of a community infused with residents from all walks of life simply thrilled to be living the dream at the beach; of fishing and oil industries no longer present; of shores filled with abalone shells, of softball games pitting youth against youth, of corporate-backed baseball teams; of caring, engaged and watchful neighbors, of heroism in the face of what turned out to be a deadly shark attack. Perhaps one of the most poignant stories told was of the infamous oil contamination discovery that led to the town’s ultimate remake and permanent alteration of character – for better or for worse.
We all have memories of growing up in various places that echo a theme that resonated on Storyteller’s Night - simpler times, safer times when we seemed to know our neighbors more intimately than we do now. Perhaps it was the ballgames with our friends at the end of the cul-de-sac, or summer evening block parties that brought residents together to share hot dogs, hamburgers and potato salad, or walking to and from school without fear of predators, blending with others from different economic status, and the feeling that we were all in this together. Hearing the stories and recollections of others brought me back to my own past, as I’m sure it did others in the room. As I looked around I recognized folks with deep Avila roots – people I know mostly in passing and from whom I’ve heard an anecdote or two over the years. And I recognized a great many others who, like me, are transplants from places near and far.
The San Fernando Valley in which I was raised during the 50s and 60s bears no resemblance to what is today very little open space, long-vanished orange groves and dairy farms, cities that spill across borders and traffic backed up on all main arteries dominating the scene. I cannot go back. Leaving the Valley in 1982 I ventured to Irvine, which at the time reminded me of the San Fernando Valley of my youth. Lots of open space, orange groves, few traffic lights, and a university not yet the behemoth it has become. In the relative blink of an eye that all changed as money and developers poured into the area much like an avalanche. I no longer recognized the Irvine I thought would bring me the peace and sense of belonging I lost once before. I cannot go back. By the end of the 80s it was time to leave again – time to find another world more simple, safer, kinder, less corporate and less “every man/woman for him/herself.” First it was Los Osos, then Avila Beach, that offered that re-birth. There was, and in most cases still is, lots of open space, cities with distinct and complimentary borders and personalities, and neighbors not so concerned with another person’s socio-economic status. Yes, it’s that sense of belonging. But many parts of SLO County have changed - perhaps none more than the small stretch of a jewel known as “downtown” Avila Beach.
My wife and I moved to San Luis Bay Estates in 1995 – shortly before downtown Avila was to be razed. It was an odd grouping of businesses, homes and individuals awaiting our stops at the beach. It was so different than what life in my adult years had become that, looking back, I did not fully appreciate Avila for what it was. I was so consumed with work, playing softball, tennis and golf that I hardly noticed what was happening to “funky” Avila. One minute it was there, and the next minute it was gone. Sadly, we cannot go back. On October 20th we heard the stories and felt the loss. But I am grateful that there are still among us those who lived here in the good old days. I want to thank our storytellers for sharing and caring. Hats off to Archie McLaren, Kirt Collins, Denny Wheeler, Pete Kelley, Saro Rizzo, Jean Nanney, Hardie Phillips, Lucy and Colleen Gnos, Dick Kelsey, Mike Harkness, Howard Nicholson and Anne Brown for reminding us that the past had so much meaning, and special thanks to County Supervisor Adam Hill and Pacific Gas and Electric Company for sponsoring the first ever Avila Beach Storyteller’s Night. Stay tuned for the opportunity to see a now under production video that was taped that evening.
That’s it for now, fellow Avilones. See you at the beach!
We all have memories of growing up in various places that echo a theme that resonated on Storyteller’s Night - simpler times, safer times when we seemed to know our neighbors more intimately than we do now. Perhaps it was the ballgames with our friends at the end of the cul-de-sac, or summer evening block parties that brought residents together to share hot dogs, hamburgers and potato salad, or walking to and from school without fear of predators, blending with others from different economic status, and the feeling that we were all in this together. Hearing the stories and recollections of others brought me back to my own past, as I’m sure it did others in the room. As I looked around I recognized folks with deep Avila roots – people I know mostly in passing and from whom I’ve heard an anecdote or two over the years. And I recognized a great many others who, like me, are transplants from places near and far.
The San Fernando Valley in which I was raised during the 50s and 60s bears no resemblance to what is today very little open space, long-vanished orange groves and dairy farms, cities that spill across borders and traffic backed up on all main arteries dominating the scene. I cannot go back. Leaving the Valley in 1982 I ventured to Irvine, which at the time reminded me of the San Fernando Valley of my youth. Lots of open space, orange groves, few traffic lights, and a university not yet the behemoth it has become. In the relative blink of an eye that all changed as money and developers poured into the area much like an avalanche. I no longer recognized the Irvine I thought would bring me the peace and sense of belonging I lost once before. I cannot go back. By the end of the 80s it was time to leave again – time to find another world more simple, safer, kinder, less corporate and less “every man/woman for him/herself.” First it was Los Osos, then Avila Beach, that offered that re-birth. There was, and in most cases still is, lots of open space, cities with distinct and complimentary borders and personalities, and neighbors not so concerned with another person’s socio-economic status. Yes, it’s that sense of belonging. But many parts of SLO County have changed - perhaps none more than the small stretch of a jewel known as “downtown” Avila Beach.
My wife and I moved to San Luis Bay Estates in 1995 – shortly before downtown Avila was to be razed. It was an odd grouping of businesses, homes and individuals awaiting our stops at the beach. It was so different than what life in my adult years had become that, looking back, I did not fully appreciate Avila for what it was. I was so consumed with work, playing softball, tennis and golf that I hardly noticed what was happening to “funky” Avila. One minute it was there, and the next minute it was gone. Sadly, we cannot go back. On October 20th we heard the stories and felt the loss. But I am grateful that there are still among us those who lived here in the good old days. I want to thank our storytellers for sharing and caring. Hats off to Archie McLaren, Kirt Collins, Denny Wheeler, Pete Kelley, Saro Rizzo, Jean Nanney, Hardie Phillips, Lucy and Colleen Gnos, Dick Kelsey, Mike Harkness, Howard Nicholson and Anne Brown for reminding us that the past had so much meaning, and special thanks to County Supervisor Adam Hill and Pacific Gas and Electric Company for sponsoring the first ever Avila Beach Storyteller’s Night. Stay tuned for the opportunity to see a now under production video that was taped that evening.
That’s it for now, fellow Avilones. See you at the beach!
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