I grew up in the Midwick Tract in Alhambra, California.
The land started out as the Midwick Country Club and Polo
Grounds, a prestigious location in Los Angeles County where movie stars, politicians,
and royalty, including King Edward of
England, played golf and polo.
Films, like the original Robin Hood, were filmed
on the polo grounds.
The Great Depression affected the club because fewer people
could afford to frequent it. When the owners defaulted on a loan, Dominic
Jebbia bought the property. In 1944, the clubhouse burned down, so Mr. Jebbia
subdivided the acreage and sold it to a real estate developer. He donated part
of the land to Los Angeles County for Granada Park and created a housing tract
on the rest.
Returning WWII veterans bought most of the houses for their families.
All the streets were named after famous golfers.
My family bought one of the houses in the first phase and
moved in during the fall of 1948 when I was two years old. Our house was on
Hathaway Avenue. Larry’s family bought on Hitchcock Drive in the second phase
and arrived when he was five.
Our house was situated where the golf course had previously
stood. We occasionally found golf balls in the neighborhood.
Midwick was the perfect place to grow up. Nearly all the
mothers were housewives and stayed at home all day. The downside was we couldn’t
get away with anything. The minute we did something wrong, our mothers knew
before we arrived home.
The upside was the number of kids our age in the
neighborhood. We never lacked for friends.
Just on our end of the street lived another girl my age, one
a year older, one a year younger, and another two years older. Kathleen and I
became blood sisters. We both had younger brothers and wanted a sister. She was
the maid of honor at my wedding, and nine months later, she asked me to be the
matron of honor at hers. When we celebrated our fiftieth anniversary in
September, my ‘sis’ was there to deliver a speech.
Boys around our age joined us to play games during the
summer. We roller skated on the sidewalks, rode our bikes to the park (more
about that next week), and played all summer at one another’s houses.
I’ve stayed in touch with many of the neighborhood ‘kids’
over the years. Quite a few are my friends on Facebook.
We had no need for block parents because we always had adults
around in case of problems. During the summer, we played outside until dark
when a parent finally summoned one of us home and our play ceased. This was a
time and place that seemed safe. We hung out in groups and never got into
serious trouble.
I am very grateful to have been raised in this special
neighborhood with wonderful people.
Next week, I’ll talk about Granada Park, the major hangout
for all the kids who lived in the tract.
