Photo by Robert Burroughs
Percy Russel, Arnold Gass. "Then there is the "Hollywood agent. They'll come in and give you a hearty handshake, ask you how you're doing, and do everything but pinch your ass."
- Maria Lofftus, manager of the admissions office at the UCSD School of Medicine, had just finished explaining to an irate father why his son's application had been rejected. She has a repertoire of responses to all kinds of complaints — for the angry fathers whose dreams have been dashed, the sobbing mothers who think their child's life has been destroyed.
- By Stephen Meyer, May 9, 1985
Kit Carson had been riding alongside Johnston in the first group, but his horse had fallen, throwing him.
San Diego Historical Society
- State Highway 78 winds its way through the San Pasqual Valley toward Ramona. At a bend in the road a mile east of the entrance to the Wild Animal Park there is a roadside park. It is small and indistinct. One could, and many do, zip by it without a glance. Some might slow down — a few might even stop — if they knew what happened there 139 years ago.
- By Glenn Wallace, March 7, 1985
The Putnam sisters. “If anyone says they knew them, they’re lying.”
- Amy, Anne, and Irene. “If anyone tells you they knew them, they’re lying,” one longtime San Diegan says, when asked about the late Putnam sisters. The wealthy, reclusive spinsters went to and from their Hillcrest mansion at Fourth Avenue and Walnut Street in a curtain-shrouded limousine. Only an occasional citizen glimpsed them. They were zoo visitors, and contributed generously to the Zoological and Humane Societies. They gave money for musicales. In 1938 the sisters began to lavish San Diego with Old Masters.
- By Judith Moore, Jan. 31, 1985
Flo Ponchetti: “If you don't know how the Indians feel about their dead, then this is a hard thing to understand."
- It has forever been the custom of the Diegueño Indians to bury their dead twice: once at death, and then once again a year later. And so it was that the people of Santa Ysabel had gathered at the mission on a Saturday morning in October, one year after the death of Steve Ponchetti, to hold the ceremony in honor of the man who for more than forty years had been their leader.
- By Steve Sorensen, Nov. 7, 1985
Terry, Thelma, Bill. "Why, jes' last night there was a big fist fight in here and there was blood all over the buildin'."
-
- As you drive through the hairpin turns near Hauser Canyon Mountain, out past Potrero where Highway 94 narrows, your ears begin to pop when the altitude reaches 2350 feet. Out here there's nothing for miles but country roads lined with tall oaks, deep green hills, and lots of sky.
- By Sue Garson, April 11, 1985
I finally came upon my taxi. It was beautiful, the most beautiful thing on four wheels I had ever seen! I climbed inside and kissed the wheel.
- We talked and he asked me why I wanted to become a cab driver, anyway? Why did I want to drive for this company, anyway? He asked was I aware of the danger? “This city loses more cab drivers in a year than the police lose cops. We offer long hours and, sometimes, low pay.”
- By Paul Warden, July 18, 1985