Over the years, as many as 500 students have been enrolled at Francis Parker's Mission Hills campus at one time.
Originally, a strip of public street called Plumosa Way, which runs 100 yards from Randolph Street to the edge of the canyon, was the northern boundary of the school. The street served Parker and two houses on the north side of the street, a blockish pseudo-adobe number on the east and a wood-sided '60s modern to the west on the corner with Randolph. Parker bought the former five years ago and the latter this past summer.
By Ernie Grimm, Dec. 6, 2001 | Read full article
"It was like gang central. The police helicopter was over our street almost every night."
Photo by Sandy Huffaker, Jr.
“I saw a lot of potential. I saw a place that had a real ‘neighborhood feel.’ It just needed community involvement. I remember that the first big issue that really caught my attention was the overcrowding, the density. Adams Elementary School was packed. Developers wanted to tear down more single-family homes to build more apartment buildings. Okay, fine. So the city needed affordable housing. But we weren’t getting any additional infrastructure to compensate for the density.”
By Abe Opincar, Nov. 27, 2002 | Read full article
Corner of Columbia and Date Streets. “Have you been here in the evening? I have recently, and I noticed all the foreign-language students who hang out there, and a lot of college students will play soccer."
Photo by Sandy Huffaker, Jr.
When I close my eyes and think of Amici Park, I see young mothers and children, bocce players of various ages. I see the foreign-language students, eating, smoking, while incongruously playing handheld video games and a golden retriever or two in the background. The colors on the canvas behind my eyelids, in the background, are forest green, two khaki stripes (the sand courts), redwood, red-and-white checked tablecloths never to flutter in a breeze.
By John Brizzolara, Jan. 29, 2004 | Read full article
Bocardo's. A lady with a wig and old-lady glasses and a big chest that blended with the rest of her was Margie. She looked at me with her mouth hanging open and the ceiling lights reflected on her glasses like bowls.
I picked up a bell for Bocardo’s about nine-thirty on Friday night, my first night of work. (I was hanging in Hillcrest because I know it and because there was plenty of business from the market at least.) I drove right there, parked in front, and walked into the bar holding my hat and asked the bartender who called a cab. “Margie?” he said. A lady with a wig and old-lady glasses and a big chest was Margie.
By Joe Applegate, Dec. 2, 1976 | Read full article
There was a step-ladder in the upstairs bay window. The ladder was alone and looked out across “wop town" into the San Diego Bay.
Homer Delawie said, “Let’s go look at that house.” We trudged up the street and came back, resettled ourselves in my old parlour. Our moans became, with one voice, a cry to arms. Again, it’s history. We saved the Gilbert, and we've since saved that house’s old friends; the Bushyhead House, the Christian House, and another whose name I can't remember, have all been moved, and sit, together again, down in Old Town.
By Robert Miles Parker, Dec. 9, 1976 | Read full article
Security guard at Thrifty Drug Store, Robinson Avenue. Heider mentions two black males of the same general description trying to roll someone on the 500 block of Evans Place. Is that that short street behind Thrifty?
“We try to cruise by the hot spots where there has been trouble. Bars or restaurants, businesses, what have you. For example. Shooters bar on 30th Street in North Park has had some problems with people passing by, opening the door, and yelling out, ‘Hey, you faggots!’ or something. And then someone threw a beer bottle in there. The Gay and Lesbian Center has had been a few people who’ve opened the doors and screamed something inside.”
By John Brizzolara, March 10, 1994 | Read full article
Shopping needs are met at nearby University Avenue and El Cajon Boulevard; movies and bookstores and eateries are close. In addition, Olive Street offers a bonus: Switzer Canyon.
In her first summer here, Fargo helped organize the street’s first block party. The road was barricaded off, and neighbors set up barbecues. With candles lit and dishes to share, the party went on until two in the morning. But Lee is the first to admit that the easy give-and-take that has since marked the various get-togethers has nothing to do with her. This was just life here on Olive Street, with its alley, its canyon.
By Jangchup Phelgyal, Nov. 9, 2000 | Read full article
"The idea of La Pensione was, number one, to respect the past."
"I noticed that in a lot of the old buildings along India, there was a courtyard [behind the building] in the center of the block, with an access [through the building]. That doesn't happen anywhere else downtown that I know of; it's an item that's particular to this area of Little Italy. I was looking for those kinds of particulars, so that I could re-create my own version of that and add to the personality.”
By Matthew Lickona, Nov. 8, 2001 | Read full article
Golden Hill Kentucky Fried Chicken. "People don't like getting out of their cars. Drive-throughs are more convenient for disabled persons, the elderly, and mothers with children."
Anne Riedman, a real estate investment broker who works in Golden Hill, said drive-throughs clash with the neighborhood's goal to create a pedestrian-oriented community. "Whenever you have a drive-through restaurant, it's certainly not easy to walk [near them]…. There's no reason to amend the plan for their profitability, What I find interesting is ten years ago they said it was not financially feasible to not have a drive-through, and they've been operating there for ten years."
By Suzy Hagstrom, March 2, 2000 | Read full article