Table of Contents
Griswold's Claremont Center Chosen as Annual Meeting Site
Nuggets from Needles by Maggie McShan
Teapot Dome by Maggie McShan
The Giovanni Once-In-A-Lifetime 66th Anniversary Bus Tour
West to East On Route 66, by Mary Bessent
66TH Birthday Commemorative Shield Relay
Texas Friendship on Route 66 In 1944, by Vivian Davies
GRISWOLD’S CLAREMONT CENTER CHOSEN AS ANNUAL MEETING SITE
Citrus groves stretched far into the foothills when George Griswold and his family
arrived in Claremont. Today the hills are dotted quite differently and yet the fruits of
Griswold’s efforts are evidenced in the success of Claremont Center.
From modest beginnings creating candied fruits and preserves in his home, Griswold
built his first factory at 222 West Mesa in 1915. It was not long before the expanding
business would require an expanded building. The most notable addition was a series of
stone cellars which exist to this day.
The business thrived. Claremont grew. Mesa became Foothill Blvd. and Route 66. Tourists
not only enjoyed a stop for Griswold’s treats but sent packages to friends and
family.
Griswold’s sold his fruit and preserve business to Marc Peck in 1946. At the age
of 76, Griswold still refused to completely retire and maintained a gift business at the
site of the old Griswold home until his death in 1961.
Peck held the business for only a few years and sold to Alton and Betty Sanford in
1949. They renamed the establishment Griswold’s Stone Cellar.
Although the business was at an all time low, the Sanfords struggled forth and added
their own brand of candy. The stone cellars were remodeled to become an art gallery. Local
artists were encouraged to exhibit and the gallery attracted new visitors.
The first smorgasbord meal was served in 1961. An instant success, it soon required
larger space and the Sanfords purchased the Oxford Inn at 515 West Foothill Blvd. It
remains the present site of Griswold’s Smorgasbord, a well recognized Route 66
landmark.
After the success of the Smorgasbord, the Sanfords built the Indian Hill Inn. Located
next to the Smorgasbord, the Inn’s dining room and cocktail lounge opened in 1968,
the first bar in Claremont since the city’s founding in the 1880s. The architecture
of tile roofs. large beams and stucco walls reflects the early history of a Spanish
California.
In 1970 the Sanfords purchased the campus and buildings of the Claremont High School.
The high school gymnasium became the Candlelight Pavilion Dinner Theatre presenting stage
shows and musical revues. In addition, the 1911 structure anchoring the east end of the
center houses a variety of shops and galleries. The Art Deco building retains its charm
and each weekend an Art Fair of local craftsmen and artists is held on the grounds.
A delight for any visitor, the Claremont Center promises to be a real treat for the
fans of Route 66 and a memorable location for the Association’s annual meeting.
NUGGETS from NEEDLES by Maggie McShan
On Thanksgiving day, Mac and I were seated with Bob and Marilyn Martin for the turkey
feast we enjoyed with Friends of The Mojave Road. Having an opportunity to chat with Bob
and Marilyn was greatly appreciated. They are members of our Association, and Bob did our
"Nuggets" logo for ROADSIGNS. There were 60 people at the dinner, held at the
School House in Goffs, but not in the actual building. The meal was served in a large
mobile unit that has recently been moved onto the property, and will ultimately serve as
an office. Five turkeys had been roasted in the pit barbeque, and they were delicious,
along with dressing, and a great big dutch oven of giblet gravy. Guests brought side
dishes, potluck style, and being simply scrumptious! Dennis Casebier and Jo Ann presided
as host and hostess, but many of those attending such as the Martins, are regular visitors
and helpers at the School House, and had assisted with the preparations.
Mac can’t get out much anymore, and it was nice to visit with all these friends.
The holiday meal had been planned for "The Old Homestead" of Ken and Kris
Hawkins, on up the road 10 miles or so, but since that was to be an outdoor event, a cold
wind forced a change in plans. Great fun!
Beaver-like activity on the land on West Broadway, across from the Wagon Wheel
Restaurant, etc, marks progress on a new business that is going in on Old Route 66! It is
on land owned for a long time by Dr. Bill Shepard, a medical doc of long residence here,
and I quizzed him about the development. Dr. Bill said he and his partners are building a
big service station, and all that land they’re leveling off will be used for trucks
they will cater to, as well as the general public. He didn’t say if there would be
other additions, but it appears the development will be a mini-truck stop. It seems that
this project got going with a minimum of fanfare around City Hall. A bit of background on
this property is that much of it was once covered with a giant junk yard, that used to be
fun to wander through. Then there was Ethel Farmer’s Trailer Park, and I believe that
was the interest that Shepard bought. Anyway, something new is happening!
More about Palms Motel. Seems like I pick up most of my news while "eating
out", and it was at one of the holiday breakfasts that I was fortunate to be seated
at a table with Bertha Raison. She reads our magazine, "Footprints", and so
keeps up with my projects. Bertha said that when she first came to Needles in the
mid-1040s she lived in one of those cabins, but the court was not located where it is now.
It was at the west side of town and called "West…" something or other. She
thinks it was about 1946 that the cabins were moved across town to their present location
and the court renamed.
The cabin court that Bertha remembers was owned and operated by Charlie and Orsavella
Fahey, whom she had known as a child in Johannasburg, California.
Bertha had come to Needles for a new beginning and rented one of their cabins. She soon
noted that a steno job for the Santa Fe was frequently vacant, and determined to try for
it. Her shorthand having become a bit rusty, she hired Orsavella to tutor her in the
skill, and recalls that her mentor was often called away from their work sessions to rent
a cabin or serve a customer in their convenience store.
Bertha applied for the job with Santa Fe and was hired, and worked for the company
until her recent retirement.
Meanwhile the Faheys moved their cabin court business to the present location of Palms
Motel and continued to operate it for some time. They have been followed by a succession
of owners.
Present owners, Hank and Edna Wilde and Family, are having … fun and
headaches… restoring the place. Recently, when digging out a defunct sewer line, they
uncovered a stash of old bottles. I mean REALLY old! Perhaps dating back 100 years or
more, and that is quite exciting to them and to me. It means delving more into history to
see what was there before. Some folks say it was used as a campground for travelers. But
the old stone walls, partly covered by the present office building, indicates a more
permanent use.
Mysteries, mysteries, everywhere!
TEAPOT DOME by Maggie McShan
Awhile back I sent out a call for any information on Teapot Dome, but got nary a
reply. This roadside business with the fascinating name was on the old highway south of
Needles and almost to Topock. The road wound its way up into the edge of the hills to
facilitate approach to the beautiful arch highway bridge, which was constructed in
1916, and now supports a pipeline. Notice I’m gun-shy about calling this road
"Route 66", but it certainly was a part of the early travel route, and I’ll
bet a nickel that Bobby Troup, (author of the "Get Your Kicks…" song) and
Steinbeck both went right past Tea Pot Dome. In time there was a different alignment,
which was eventually by-passed by I-40.
Teapot Dome was located somewhere near where the present PG&E gas compressor
station is situated. It was a service station and typical roadside business, operated by
the Kelso family. Mac and I stopped there in early days, but it was before I was
"historically inclined". The Mystic Maze archeological site was in the vicinity.
Well hurrh! Just recently I was casually looking through a 1925 school annual, titled
"The Mystic Maze" after the above prehistoric site, and came across a whole
bunch of small photos which had been trimmed to practically thumbnail size before
printing. The pictures illustrated Senior Sneak Day, and there, fairly leaping from the
page at me was a tiny picture of Teapot Dome. It was just a portion of the facility,
showing gas pump, and a teapot mounted above the roof to attract tourists.
It sticks in my mind that Les Kelso (now deceased) who grew up there once told me the
autos were nearly always "boiling like a teapot" by the time they reached the
station, and that’s how it got its name.
I will have the photo copied for later use in ROADSIGNS. Here’s a part of the
Sneak Day story, as related in the annual:
SENIOR SNEAK DAY
"All the lower classmen (and faculty also) had been waiting anxiously for the
famous Senior Ditch Day (the second one in the history of the N.H.S.). Finally, the
Seniors decided to hold the sleepy juniors, sophs and frosh in suspense no more, and at a
meeting held Friday, April 2, set the date as of April 6.
"It was the intention of the Big Twelve to go to the Indian Caves but owing to
certain difficulties in securing cars, they decided to go to Box Canyon for at least half
of the day and to Jacksons Lake for the ‘finale’!
"They rode out to Teapot Dome about 7 o’clock (am), parked the two cars and
then started on the hike. After climbing, tripping and helping Miss Bush fall down several
hills they finally found an ideal place for camp and immediately the energetic boys
gathered wood and made a fireplace a la caveman style. Many ‘snaps’ were taken
of the ‘gang’, and after eating, drinking, playing ‘Spanola’ and other
games the wanderers once more became restless and agreed to change camp. So they climbed
and climbed some more and when they got to the Teapot Dome, Ralph happened to think that
he left his Kodak at the camp so backward he goes with Johnny for company and when after a
lapse of 20 minutes they returned with sweating brows and empty handed—Ralph looks in
the grub box and the secret of the missing Kodak is revealed. Evidently Ralph thought
wrong! All that walking, poor kid!
"Well, they take a few more pictures at the Teapot Dome, then vamoose for the lake
…"
Ah-h-h! To find those pictures!
THE GIOVANNI ONCE-IN-A-LIFETIME 66th ANNIVERSARY BUS TOUR
Join the celebrations as the bus drives through the communities on Route 66.
The California Historic Route 66 Association is proud to present the Giovanni
Once-In-A-Lifetime 66th Anniversary Bus Tour, Chicago to Santa Monica, Sept. 19
to Oct 2, 1992
Our association will be presenting it throughout California’s Route 66 and we
invite the other seven states’ local participation. An opportunity to help your
state, it will be one more way we can join together the other Route 66 state associations
for our 1992 historical anniversary celebrations.
Our business member, Giovanni Tours, Agoura Hills, CA, informs us that each person on
the bus tour will receive a commemorative plaque listing the name of each tour participant
and explaining that they were travelers on this Once-In-A-Lifetime Anniversary Historical
Tour. Our Hollywood radio station, KMPC, will again cover the tour with a daily report
from Giovanni from wherever he is each morning.
Giovanni would love to arrange little celebrations as the tour bus proceeds west on The
Mother Road. Don’t miss this opportunity for communities along the way to have a
celebration in their particular area. Perhaps a banner across Route 66 to welcome the
Historical Tour Bus. Maybe offer a police escort? Some towns will want to have an event
where the tour people will get off the bus, mingle and enjoy an activity that you might
have set up. Any of these ideas are great but Giovanni needs to know of local community
interest to start planning any detailed stops on the tour. The tour will be full of fun
and surprises. The bus plays music from the 40s and the 50s and old radio show programs
from the 50s.
HISTORIC BRIDGE DESTROYED
[Reprinted from Cruisin’ Kansas, Kansas Historic Route 66 Association newsletter.]
1992 is a special year for Route 66 across America, but Cherokee County Kansas will not
have much to celebrate during the 66th Anniversary year. Willow Creek Bridge,
one of the last two March Arch Bridges on the entire Route, was destroyed on November 11,
1991 (Route 66’s birthday).
The resurgence of Route 66 has been a good thing for Kansas and particularly for this
southeast Kansas area. Local citizens had no desire to have Willow Creek Bridge taken
out… only dismay at having the highways’ historical value taken away and marred
by a new modern structure and the highway torn up during the 66th anniversary
year. Though the bridge had been declared structurally sound and traffic very light, this
was not the deciding factor in its replacement. The reason given for the new bridge was
for future expansion of the city of Baxter Springs to the north, though there is no such
evidence.
John Delmont, the commissioner responsible for the Willow Creek Project 11C-2702-01
will close off the last March Arch Bridge on Route 66, eradicate the roadway, clear out
over 125 trees, and construct a new "modern" bridge that will loom 25 feet over
the old historic bridge. This project is to be let for bids in February 1992.
It is ironic that, Japanese Television, German Television, Canada, New York,
Washington D.C., USA Today, Time magazine, Rand McNally, The Kansas City Star, The
Joplin Globe, The Chicago Tribune, The L.A. Times, CNN, and many, many others are all
interested in old Route 66 and home owners, property owners, and average citizens in
Kansas and across America are wanting to preserve Highway 66 and local government
officials chooses to destroy our little 13.2 miles of Route 66. WHY?
WEST TO EAST ON ROUTE 66, by Mary Bessent
"Go west young man" written by John Babsone Lane Soule in 1851 and
editorialized and popularized by Horace Greeley in The New York Tribune, was taken to
heart by tens of thousands of people who headed west. They came by horse and wagon, by
train and finally by automobile. The road which helped them to accomplish this journey by
automobile was dedicated in 1926 as Route 66, and later immortalized by the song "Get
Your Kicks on Route 66".
In 1926 the Roaring Twenties were in full swing and Los Angeles was the movie capital
of the world. Cecil B. DeMille produced and directed King of Kings at his studio in Culver
City, Grumman’s Chinese Theatre opened on Hollywood Boulevard and humorist Will
Rogers was mayor of Beverly Hills.
As a native of Los Angeles, my adventure with Route 66 dates to Sunday, August 26, 1934
when, as a child, I began a trip on Route 66 in an easterly direction. My mother, brother
and I were booked to sail on the final voyage of the ocean liner Leviathan from New
York harbor to Plymouth, England, on Friday August 31, 1934 at 10 p.m. My family was
relocating to England, and my father was to follow at a later date.
Rather than go by train to New York, my mother opted to travel Route 66 by the
Greyhound bus from Los Angeles to Chicago, and then on to New York, with no stopovers.
This time schedule did not allow for delays.
We began our trip in mid-afternoon on Sunday, August 26, 1934, from the Greyhound Bus
Depot at Sixth and Los Angeles Streets in downtown Los Angeles. By beginning our trip in
mid-afternoon we were able to travel through the heat of the California and Arizona
deserts at a more comfortable temperature. After a warm farewell from family and friends
at the depot, and accompanied by gifts of fruit, cookies and fried chicken to eat along
the route, departed from Los Angeles
Our first stop was San Bernardino, where a drunk, obnoxious woman passenger was
escorted off the bus by police. As the bus proceeded toward Needles, darkness fell. Upon
entering Arizona, agricultural inspectors boarded the bus and confiscated our gifts of
fruit. Shortly after this unfriendly gesture, we were confronted by thunderstorms and
cloudbursts in the area of the Music Mountains. The lightening was an awesome sight, and
the rain transformed dried-up streams into muddy torrents carrying boulders and debris,
which made Route 66 impassable. Suddenly the bus was flagged to a stop by highway police
waving lanterns. After a considerable delay, and much debate between the bus driver and
the police over whether it was safe to continue, we were on our way once again.
As we traveled through the eastern part of Arizona and the beginning of New Mexico, I
remember seeing Indians living a short distance off Route 66. Their trading posts with
pottery, jewelry and collections of Indian crafts were on the side of the road. After
crossing the Continental Divide, east of Gallup, we reached the Rio Grande River and
Albuquerque.
Each evening at sundown, at a designated stop, a black steward, wearing a white jacket,
would board the bus and hand out pillows to the passengers spending the night aboard the
bus. Although the Greyhound bus was equipped with a lavatory, the tank had a limited
capacity. Therefore, from time to time the bus driver would announce in a stern voice,
that the toilet door was going to be locked. He would then stop the bus, walk to the rear
and lock the door.
By the next morning we were in the great plains of Texas and Oklahoma and the view
appeared to be one of a never-ending treeless horizon. Passing our bus, but going in a
westerly direction, were the Oklahomans or Okies, who were fleeing the effects of the Dust
Bowl and the Great Depression. They were recognizable by the mattresses and other personal
possessions tied to their cars.
After a delay at the bus depot in St. Louis, Missouri, we resumed our trip toward
Chicago. Just before dusk we were in Joliet, Illinois, and the bus driver announced that
we were now passing the State Prison. With a chuckle in his voice, he warned the
passengers to avoid spending any time in that facility.
We were now heading into Chicago and nearing the end of our travels on Route 66. What
would happen to us in the next couple of hours would have been hard to anticipate. The
time was about 10:30 p.m. and the bus was traveling through a residential area of Chicago
when, at an intersection, the bus completely overturned, landing on its top, and throwing
the passengers around. Momentarily, we were totally stunned. When we came to, the area
residents, who had rushed to the scene, were pulling us and the other passengers out
through the bus windows. By this time the ambulances, fire trucks and police cars were
everywhere. Miraculously, most passengers escaped unharmed.
My mother refused all requests for us to be taken to a hospital for observation.
Instead, we were taken to a hotel where representatives from Greyhound offered to provide
accommodation for the night. However, my mother knew our time schedule was so limited to
reach New York Harbor that we did not accept this offer. All we wanted was to be
transported to the bus terminal in downtown Chicago so we could proceed to New York. After
an agreement was reached, we still had to retrieve our luggage, which eventually was
brought to the hotel from the overturned bus. By this time it was about 3:00 a.m.
Finally, aboard the New York-bound express bus, those last 600 miles were filled with
tension. It was now nip-and-tuck if we would make the 10:00 p.m. sailing of the Leviathan.
My mother would leave her bus seat from time to time to ask the driver if he could go a
little faster.
When we reached the New York bus terminal we had minutes to spare. We urged the bus
driver to remove our luggage first, then we and the luggage boarded a taxi and headed for
the dock. My mother was now on the edge of her seat begging, this time, the taxi driver to
go faster. Just as the taxi raced up to the side of the Leviathan at the dock, the
gangplank was being removed and the passengers were on deck, waving goodbye to friends and
relatives standing on the dock. My mother jumped from the taxi and pleaded with the
dockhands to put the gangplank back in place; luckily they complied and we and our luggage
went aboard. Before reaching our cabin, the Leviatan had set sail for England.
Little did I know when I left Los Angeles to travel east on Route 66 that I would spend
World War II living on the outskirts of London, and would not return to Los Angeles until
after the war.
Route 66 will always remain for me and countless others an historic road.
66TH BIRTHDAY COMMEMORATIVE SHIELD RELAY
Similar to the torch relay for the ’84 Olympics, California proposes to escort a
Commemorative Anniversary Shield Relay, passing the Commemorative Shield from state to
state—each state providing its own vehicle and driver—to begin in Chicago around
October 11th, the anniversary date.
As the vehicles go through the towns on the road, we anticipate local festivities
joining the fun and celebration.
We expect a caravan of others wanting in on the fun will be right behind it.
A smaller souvenir version of the shield will be available from the vehicle. Additional
souvenir items are a possibility—each state association to share any profits from the
memorabilia sales. Additional ideas gladly accepted. Let’s communicate!
TEXAS FRIENDSHIP ON ROUTE 66 IN 1944, by Vivian Davies
Controlling our driving during WWII, the War Price & Rationing Board issued
"A" gas stamps, allowing one to buy only three gallons at a time. Moving from
Oak Park, Illinois to Hollywood in 1944, (if memory is correct) we were issued
"C" coupons. We loved the small cafes along the way. During the war the rationed
meat, cigarettes, (yes, even shoes) etc. were very difficult to get in Chicago, but not in
Texas! They had ham, bacon, steak and cigarettes, no problem. And a piece of homemade pie
was a quarter of a nine-inch pie. At one of the little towns in Texas between Shamrock and
Amarillo we stopped for a meal in a little café. I must have picked up a book of matches
from the place because after many miles on our way I discovered I had accidentally left a
compact and a small purse with a small amount of money in it. I phoned them and gave them
my California address so they could mail the items to me.
Arriving in Hollywood, my package was there waiting for me but I was surprised to find
the purse was right but the few dollars were missing and also the compact was not the
right one. (Hard to believe, but…) I contacted them again, explaining. He was sorry
and promised to check it out further. Later in the mail I received the few dollars and the
correct compact with an apologetic letter from the café owner! How’s that for Texas
honesty and friendliness? Another memory of traveling on Route 66.
