Pescadero Memories

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By June Morrall

In the 1890s the Pescaderans looked forward to the coming of the railroad, an event that would solve their economic isolation, but there had  been disappointments.

Local lumberman Alvinza Hayward began the grading work for a railroad when he ran out of money to complete the project. A loquacious fellow called Colonel Bridge, who tried to get the villagers to invest in his railroad, turned out to be full of hot air. A stream of others like Colonel Bridges came to the town armed with surveys and maps but nothing clicked.

Then came the idea of the “bicycle railroad,” dubbed a “decided novelty.”  The bicycle railroad, which was engineered to work just like it sounds, was supposed to run from Millbrae to Pescadero, built over grades and through country unfriendly to a narrow gauge.

It also had an overhead device that kept the cars in place, perhaps like the old streetcars. Yet, it was self-supporting and could reach speeds of 100 mph.

(When I locate the sketch of the bicycle railroad, I will insert it into this post.)

Shortly after the announcement of the bicycle railroad reached the South Coast, new developments emerged regarding the West Shore Railroad’s plans. People said it was a “go.”

I wrote this in 1999

Giant Dedication to the Redwoods

By June Morrall

“Memorial Park. July 4, 1924, dedicated in honor of those who gave their lives in the defense of freedom and liberty.”

It was school’s Superintendent Roy Cloud’s mandate to visit all the county’s classrooms, even those in areas so remote that only the people who lived there knew they existed.

La Honda, Loma Mar and the entire South Coast fell into this category.

Cloud was a highly visible superintendent who called on every school, no matter how far away.

In 1923 he visited Wurr School, deep in the redwoods, near Loma Mar. Actually, much of the timber had been cut by various lumbermen but a 310-acre virgin stand of coast redwoods remained near the school constructed by a German named Henry Wurr years earlier.

Arriving on the South Coast in the 1850s, Wurr established a successful shingle mill business, setting up a household with his Swedish bride, a member of the prolific Blomquist clan. The couple accumulated land and had five children. Even a road was named after Wurr and they had the place practically to themselves.

Henry Wurr had long been dead when Roy Cloud appeared at Wurr School, attended mostly by descendants of the Blomquists and Wurrs.

It was a lovely spring day, through Cloud, looking up at the towering coast redwoods as he treaded across the thick mat of needles and bark, called “duff.”

The azaleas were in full bloom, spikey ferns poked out from beneath the trees and he saw a banana slug or two. The air smelled of spice and as his senses took in the scene. Cloud was overwhelmed with the beauty of it all.

But Cloud was devastated when he learned this magnificent grove was in jeopardy. Mill owner Edwin T. Peterson had purchased the 310 acres for $40,000 and he was planning to begin logging any day.

Cloud, the celebrated author of county history books, keenly felt the significance of the moment and his place in it. The cutting had to be stopped.

Spurred on by urgency, Cloud attended the next county Board of Supervisors meeting held in Redwood City. He recounted his near-religious experience in the virgin redwoods, believing the “scene would be a revelation to the people of the county. If only they see and enjoy it as he had, “according to Frank Stanger’s Sawmills in the Redwoods.

Cloud closed his plea before the supervisors by advising them of Peterson’s intention to fell the trees. Immediate action was required, stressed Cloud. His recommendation was that the tract be purchased for a public park.

The Board of Supervisors was receptive as it listened attentively to its superintendent of schools. The supervisors included C.V. Thompson, a Pescadero physician, and Thomas Hickey, a South San Francisco resident, credited with establishing the county’s first welfare commission. Other board members were Half Moon Bay businessman Manuel Francis, Menlo Park’s John McBain, who had survived a scandal more than a decade earloier, and the board’s only female member, Rosalie Brown.

The supervisors responded by appointing a blue ribbon public panel to study Cloud’s recommendation that the redwood grove be set aside as a public park.

Among the appointees was Timothy Hopkins, the adopted son of Mark Hopkins, one of the Big Four, founders of the Central Pacific Railroad. Timothy Hopkins joined the Menlo Park community when he purchased Senator Milton Latham’s mansion, abandoning it following severe damage caused by the 1906 earthquake. Afterward, Hopkins and his wife moved to a home in the same neighborhood.

Another member of the committee was W.J. Martin, a real estate promoter, who helped developed the residential section of South San Francisco. Martin’s own residence achieved a “Point of Interest” designation from the state of California.

Fred Lorton was a Burlingame realtor who once owned half of Burlingame Avenue; he and a partner gave land to the federal government for the town’s post office and a street in Burlingame bears his name.

Also serving were J.C. Williamson, well known Pescadero general store owner and Alvin Hatch, whose father, Rufus, had operated a sawmill south of Half Moon Bay.

As longtime Coastsiders, Hatch and Williamson knew the redwoods well. They were steeped in the history of the area surrounding this last stand of virgin redwoods that made up Roy Cloud’s proposed park.

Milling had been big business in the vicinity of Pescadero Creek and its many tributaries. The coast redwood, Sequoia sempervirens, was an excellent commercial tree, and lumber products, especially shingles, were used locally and exported by ship from Pigeon Point.

In 1869 the Swedish brothers, Sam and Andrew Anderson built a shingle mill near a branch of Pescadero Creek. Four years later Henry Wurr purchased the mill, but it was destroyed by fire. Wurr established another mill on Butano Creek, but he soon returned to Pescadero Creek. Wurr’s last mill stood near his home and the school he had donated land for in 1889, a few years before his death.

The Blomquist family milled in the same general area. August Blomquist established his shingle mill on McCormick’s Creek and by 1893 he had earned enough money to return to Sweden and retire.

That same year, Henry Wurr died. As shingle prices had dipped, his Blomquist relatives operated the sawmill only when they could see a profit.

By the early 1900s, Frank Blomquist built a sawmill on his Wurr Road property. He logged the steep hillsides reaching up to Butano Ridge, and from there he pulled out a huge log that became Pescadero’s 90-foot flagpole.

Blomquist sold the mill, and eventually it came into the hands of Edwin T. Peterson. Just when Peterson finished logging the same hillside, fire engulfed the mill.

(There’s more to this story but I have been unable to locate it! My apologies.)

“JC” Williamson learned the general store trade so thoroughly from working for the Levy Brothers that he soon opened his own general store called “Williamson’s.” In 1887 he succeeded Joe Levy as Pescadero’s postmaster. Williamson proved he could be innovative, too, incorporating the bank business (until the 1920s) into his general store, lending money, at no interest, for which he was roundly loved.

As the 1890s approached, Pescadero looked with optimism toward the 20th century. “JC” Williamson was building a two story 25×40 addition to his general store. Ninety students had enrolled in the new public school, and, with music high on the list of the villagers, a brass band was organized. But when it came to proof of spirit, the locals pointed to the bud on the 15-foot-tall “century plant” growing in Barzillia Hayward’s front yard. No more needed to be said.

Every happy story has its ups and downs; its villains and heroes.

Rumors spread that Loren Coburn, was going to build a hotel and new townsite at or near Pebble Beach. He “forbid” the public admission to Pebble Beach and gave notice that the carrying away of colored stones would be regarded as “highway robbery.”

This hotel, with porches and porticoes, was to stand two stories high at the mouth of Bean Hollow. Coburn intended to purchase the lumber from San Francisco and have it delivered to Pigeon Point Landing.

Further, it was learned that Loren had made an agreement with the West Shore Railroad, the company planning to build an iron road from San Francisco to Santa Cruz. In the agreement, with work scheduled to begin in 1897, Coburn stipulated that two “maintenance” stations be built on his property, both at Pebble Beach, a place he wanted renamed “Coburnville.”

The Coburn Mystery
By June Morrall

In the early 1880s several young Frenchmen, known as the “Levy brothers,” moved into the village of Pescadero. They were talented, energetic and aggressive businessmen, with money and time invested in the general store and stage business.

Joseph was appointed Pescadero’s postmaster in 1885, Armand played the piccolo in the town’s cornet band, and Ferdinand, along with Joe and Armand operated the lucrative Pescadero and Half Moon Bay Stage Company.

The Levy Brothers had opened their first general store in Half Moon Bay. It was located in a brick building off Main Street, a big success, encouraging them to open a second store down the coast in Pescadero.

Of the trio, Joe, the postmaster, became best known in town. The new Levy Brothers General Store opened up in the old McCormick Building, once known as “the attraction on the road,” across the way from the Swanton House. This was an excellent location with a saloon around the corner.

Under one roof there was a drug store, Wells Fargo, Western Union, and, of course, the post office. Like all businesses in the 1880s, the Levy Brothers store closed at 8 p.m., except on Sunday when it was shuttered all day. The brothers hired 30-year-old “JC” Williamson to juggle the roles of druggist, telegraph operator and clerk. “JC” was married to the highly respected private school teacher, Hattie Honsinger. In his spare time, he was also the Pescadero correspondent for the San Mateo Times & Gazette.

The Levy Brothers wanted to have their fingers in every pie. You couldn’t begin a sentence without the name of a Levy in it, usually doing something new. They introduced a new “electric light” in their store to replace coal oil. They built a new stable and planned to introduce a rival transportation line running between San Mateo and Pescadero. [Remember, Loren Coburn was also in the stable business.] They bought a timber tract on Butano Creek and said they were going in the mill business.

Joe, Armand and Ferdinand met Loren Coburn, the South Coast’s big landowner, when they rented land for a new 600-cow dairy operation near Pigeon Point. There they installed the latest steam-powered cheese making equipment. Of the three Levys, Joe was the one most likely to have a volatile run-in with Loren, the man everyone in town took to calling, “Moneybags,” and later “the judge,” because he always settled his legal troubles, easily, and out-of-court.