Where once lay an ocean of scrub and wildflowers, there was now a sea of rooftops in escrow. The sign said La Jolla Colony.
I used to consider San Diego roads relatively sane, compared to L.A. Now the freeway is full of lunatics. Everyone’s trying to go faster than the next guy. People used to glance at the scenery now and again, take in the pleasure of 163 through Balboa Park, or enjoy the spring wildflower bloom along Highway 5 through La Jolla. Now they stare intently straight ahead, glaring at the road, which is their enemy. They seem greedier.
By Jim Mastro and Leonard Rogoff, May 21, 1987 |
Read full article There are twenty-six freeways in L.A. Cars on half of this 740 miles of asphalt crawl at less than fifteen miles an hour every working morning. Compare this with San Diego’s 220 miles of freeway.
Sure, there are problems. There’s no good way to get from La Jolla to Lakeside. Eastbound Interstate 8 and Highway 94 are real drags. A quarter of a million people commute to downtown, and SANDAG expects that number to double by the turn of the century. Broadway is one of the most congested streets in San Diego and will probably always be so, since no one plans to make a one-way street out of it.
By Steven Saint, Oct. 13, 1988 |
Read full article Café Tuyet. You missed the '60s in steamy Saigon, but that far-away time isn't hard to imagine.
None of this, to be sure, is accidental. Current owner Joe Leshen has done his best to give you a grocery shop that you’ll never mistake for the 7-Eleven or Ralphs. Joe has lovingly preserved most of the archaic fittings that came with the store when be took possession in 1982. When he’s brought new pieces in — for example, the old deli case, dragged up from Old Town — be has tried to avoid anachronism.
By Mary Lang, Judith Moore, Adam Parfrey, Margot Sheehan, and Duncan Shepherd, June 27, 1991 |
Read full article Bud and I tried the Kensington Club, but on the night we were there, there was a small crowd that didn’t seem to welcome outsiders.
I left Kensington and found an apartment in the College Heights section. I thought that living near the university might be like living in the small New England college town where I had gone to study. It was not. San Diego State seemed to have risen up out of the suburban skin like a blemish, although in truth, it was the surrounding area that had been guilty of the encroachment.
By Glenn Wallace, Oct. 31, 1985 |
Read full article Jeff Weinstein. i firmly believe the pacific ocean turns people who don’t know how to live with it in toto into idiots.
So is the label “san diegan’ a metaphor? can you meet a ‘san diegan’ living in laramie, wyoming? i don’t think so. you see new yorkers all over the country, that’s something else, they have aggression, food, arrogance in common — comes from fighting the same enemy and not caring all the time if they win but if you are a san diegan you always come back to where resistance is least: home: the ocean: san diego.
By Jeff Weinstein, Dec. 9, 1976 |
Read full article Lilac Road Bridge. “We rejected tall columns right away. The arch was the only solution.”
It's a miracle only two people died that day in 1965. Anderson murdered one, Louis Richards, and the other one, Robert Crandall, editor of the
San Diego Independent, died of a heart attack while covering the event. But the shooting broke out in one of downtown's busiest districts, at a time when people were still arriving for work. Crowds of rubberneckers were within a block of the battle, and they often cheered when Anderson returned fire.
By Neal Matthews, Oct. 24, 1985 |
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