VISUAL SAN PEDRO – HISTORY YOU CAN SEE

The visible human history of San Pedro is less than 150 years old -- a tiny slice of its actual human occupancy.
Indigenous people lived here for thousands of years, but did so in a way that did not require rearrangement of
the landscape. The Spanish and Mexican era, far shorter, also left no remaining physical presence here. So the
San Pedro that we see today is an American one.
Its oldest existing relic is also one of its most famous -- the Point Fermin Lighthouse. Built in 1874, it is an
appropriate progenitor. San Pedro exists where it does and as it does because of maritime shipping. The modern
development of the Port began in 1871, when the US Government appropriated funds to dredge the sandbar that
impeded entrance to the Inner Harbor, and built a breakwater to keep that entrance open. The immediate
increase in shipping generated by these improvements necessitated the building of the Lighthouse.
At the time, Point Fermin was the Back of Beyond. There was no San Pedro yet – just a couple of houses at the
mouth of Stingaree Gulch, in the area of today’s 5th Street and Harbor Boulevard. If the first Lighthouse
Keepers, Mary Smith and her sister Helen, wished additional company, they went to Wilmington, a 5-mile
buggy ride away.

But history was speeding up in Southern California. The railroad, which had joined California to the rest of the
United States only 5 years before the building of the Lighthouse, reached Los Angeles in 1876. A place that had
once required weeks of arduous travel to reach from the population centers of the East Coast was now
accessible in a relatively luxurious 5-day journey. By 1882, the Southland’s first railroad, built in 1869 between
Los Angeles and Wilmington, had been absorbed by the Southern Pacific and extended to San Pedro. The
arrival of a second eastern railroad, the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe, into Los Angeles in 1885 sparked a
rate war that caused the price of a one-way ticket from Kansas City to Los Angeles to drop as low as a dollar.
This spurred tens of thousands of people to come for a visit -- and many of them stayed.
Once here, people needed houses to live in. Though the region was naturally almost treeless, vast forests of
redwood and fir lay several hundred miles north along the coast, and that area’s lumber mills and the schooners
that served them soon made San Pedro a primary export destination. Some of the lumber covering the docks
was used locally, and homes built of California redwood began sprouting up in what became the incorporated
City of San Pedro in 1888. And this is when the visually contiguous history of the area begins, as some of these
houses still exist. The walk that follows highlights several of them as it explores the neighborhood of Vinegar
Hill, supposedly named from the smell of grape residue left by some residents’ wine-making activities.
Most of the area’s structures were built before 1940. A fair number are well over 100 years old, and look it.
They are the buildings that first made me want to explore the area further. Thanks to Assessor’s records, it’s
possible to accurately date almost every building in Los Angeles. One thing I quickly learned was that
appearances can be deceiving. Many of the oldest houses in town have been modified, some quite substantially.
Stucco siding, a common adaptation, can make an old house look much younger. Alternatively, decorative
wooden scrollwork can make a young house look older. This neighborhood is full of both obvious and
unexpected time travel.
VINEGAR HILL WALKING TOUR
Our trek begins at 9th and Beacon in front of the Main Post Office, a mighty New Deal edifice built in 1935.
Untimed unmetered parking is available on the Harbor side of the street. Walk in the door closest to 9th Street
and check out the fabulous mural entitled “Mail Transportation,” by Fletcher Martin. Coming to the Post Office
with my Dad as a kid, I was impressed by the Steam Engine, and also by the bare-breasted native woman with
her basket of squash.
Heading up 9th away from the Harbor you will undoubtedly notice, if you haven’t already, lots of homeless
people. Palos Verdes, your first cross street, is often lined with camps heading towards 8th and the County
Health building, as well as behind the old YMCA building that takes up most of the block between 9th and 10th.
The City periodically performs sweeps to “clean up” the area, but people always return, as this is where the
services are, as well as being a relatively safe and accepted location.
Crossing Palos Verdes, the upcoming 200 block of 9th is among San Pedro’s best remaining collections of
vintage buildings, dating to a time when the neighborhood was home to many prominent residents. 250 is a
Colonial Revival home with wraparound porch built in 1892 for a local banker, Henry Baly.

Across the street, 257, a Queen Anne built in 1900, belonged to another banker, Will Peck, while 263, a 1905
Dutch Colonial Revival, was occupied by Frank Foot, a “City Leader.”
And finally, 267, built in 1902 was the dwelling of Louis White, one of the men whose profession gave this
block its name at the time: “Saloon-Keeper’s Row.”

After this line of turn-of-20th century elegance, you’ll pass “La Chiquita,” one of the neighborhood’s several
small markets. In the era before cars, “the corner store” was part of all urban neighborhoods. The density and
demographics of Vinegar Hill remain especially amenable to them -- there are 4 others within a 5-minute walk.
Before turning left on Centre, have a look at 298 on the north corner. A classic example of how remodeling can
completely change a building’s apparent pedigree, this is actually the oldest house on the block, built in 1888.
But its current Spanish Colonial Revival appearance, with tile roof and stucco siding, didn’t come into vogue
until the late Twenties. Only the porch and its Greek columns give a hint of its older self.

Turning left onto Centre, you’re soon passing the Queen Anne-with-Eastlake-trimmings “Captain Johnson
House,” at 918-20, with its fabulous cupola. Built in 1912, it was originally one story.
 Two doors down is the “Judge Steiglitz House,” with its 1908 Greek Revival columns. In the yard, there’s a
lovely statue of an angel -- a clue to another important facet of this neighborhood.

Vinegar Hill is home to a plethora of rehab and clean and sober houses. This one is part of SHAWL – Saving
Harbor Area Women’s Lives. Throughout the neighborhood, you’ll notice people in groups large and small,
usually same-sex, walking, sitting on porches, going into the markets… you’ll also start noticing signs on many
of the best-maintained buildings – Haviland House, Chris McMillan House, House of Hope, the many outposts
of Beacon House… all of which have helped preserve the neighborhood as it currently exists.
Turning left on 10th back toward the Harbor takes you by a whole range of late 19th and early 20th century
dwellings, including two of the oldest on record, both built in 1886 -- 255, which has been extensively altered,
and 239, which hasn’t.
Continuing toward the Harbor by crossing Palos Verdes takes you into the Kingdom of Beacon House – the
largest of the neighborhood’s rehab organizations. With 8 buildings and over 100 men in residence, the
structures on both sides of 10th are theirs. Smokers congregate on the north side, while the south side has the
awnings, games, and food. Rounding the corner at Beacon and turning right, you pass the central building at
1003 Beacon, dating from 1890.

Observe the interesting juxtaposition between Beacon House and its neighbor, the ultra-modern McCafferty
House at 1017, built in 1980 for the artist Jay McCafferty, with Howard Coy as architect. Check out the unusual
walls on this property and the adjoining Proper House.

Jay: I bought this lot for 20 grand because my parents threatened me that if I continued the way I was
going I was going to end up a bum on Beacon Street. A lot anywhere else in this city would have been
three times as expensive. Literally I was a lifeguard and a part-time teacher. I wasn’t even married at the
time. And we just put this thing together for under a hundred grand, I think, when we first started. And his
fee should have been that much. (At this point Coy and Jay begin to joke about trading artwork to each
other laughing) -- from an interview by Orhan Ayyuce appearing in Archinect.com
The Norwegian Seamen’s Church takes up the rest of the block. Built in 1950, this is a home-away-from-home
for Norwegian mariners, and also offers services in Norwegian for local expats. Speakers on the building play
the Norwegian National Anthem when appropriate ships pass through the Channel.
Turning right to head up 11th, you’ll pass the Bartlett Center at 101, named for Beacon House cofounder Father
Art Bartlett. It was previously the Seamen’s Center, open to all seafarers, where Bartlett was Chaplain.
At the corner of 11th and Palos Verdes, you’ve reached City Hall Market. Appropriately named, the 1905 brick
building housed San Pedro’s City Hall from 1905 to 1908. Located in the “uptown” part of the building is The
Alhambra, “San Pedro’s Oldest Historical Bar, since 1936.” I once had an afternoon beer here with my father
and a friend of his, who was disappointed the bartender he’d been hoping to see was unavailable, as “she’d gone
back to Mexico.” It must be interesting to run a bar surrounded by clean and sober houses…

Further up the block at 237 is a 7-bedroom, 4-bath home built in 1903, being restored quite nicely…
At Centre and 11th is one of my favorite building juxtapositions. On the 11th side at 297 is an 1890 two-story
home with a mansard roof. Cross Centre, then look back toward 12th. The other 1890 house on the lot, at 1114
Centre, is a 574-square foot, immaculately painted cottage. Whoever the 19th century carpenter was, their style
and craftsmanship are still evident over 125 years later.

Continuing up 11th Street, visual enjoyment continues with a trifecta of color. 340 is a stucco from 1964, and its
salmon delightfully sets off the yellow 1900 multi-family of 244, and the blue-green of its 1913 neighbor.
Another gem on this block is 355, a lovingly restored Queen Anne from 1900.

Turn left at Mesa. The next block is uneventful, but further treasures await. At 1215, a 1914 Classical Revival
diamond-in-the-rough appears, with two full porches, pediment, and beautiful ironwork.
And across the street at 1216, a tiny Painted Lady from 1890 is as elegant as anything in San Francisco.

The next block starts with a gorgeous 1905 Dutch Colonial with gambrel roof and decorative porch column at
1304, followed by the 1917 Craftsman Quartet of Porches, with matching duplexes at 1308-10 and 1316-18.
For convenient visual comparison showing how duplex space is configured by the next generation of builders,
across the street we have 1331-33 and 1339-41 from 1948.

And across from them, we have the pleasure of an urban farm! Green Girl Farms, on the lots adjoining the 1903
house at 390 14th, becomes a taste treat on Wednesdays between 9 and 11, where you can pick and purchase
seasonal produce and other goodies. Someone in the neighborhood has painted and tiled an undersea world
along the alley behind the Farm – makes a nice detour if you’re so inclined…
Proceeding down Mesa to 15th, you’ll turn left at the lovingly restored 1895 home on the corner at 396. If it’s a
school day in the afternoon, you’ll be caught up in the hubbub of Fifteenth Street School across the way

Two doors down, at 380 15th, is one of my all-time favorite San Pedro buildings -- George Peck’s mansion.
Built in 1887, it was originally located on “The Gold Coast” above Timms Landing, along with other large
homes owned by local luminaries, about where Harbor Boulevard cuts through the bluff below 14th Street. It
was one of the community showpieces highlighted on J.W. Pierce’s “Bird’s Eye View of San Pedro,” drawn in
1893.
 Moved to its present location in 1914, it was placed on a foundation with two ground-floor stores. The original
first and second floor became apartments. It’s not a mansion any more, but its rundown asymmetrical grandeur
remains a gift to the street.

George Peck came to San Pedro in the 1880s as a conductor on the Southern Pacific, recognized the potential of
the nascent town, and jumped into real estate. His subdivisions, parks, and buildings have left a bigger
impression on San Pedro than those of any other person.
For contrast in Residential Blueness, after continuing down 15th under some massive ficus trees, we pass 322,
what is probably the smallest structure in town with its own address.
Back at Centre, we’ve reached a small industrial zone. Turning right, we pass buildings used for termite control,
construction, and silk-screening, dating from 1924.

At 16th, we turn left. The way is enlivened by a flamboyant purple house and wall at 268, while next door at 264
is the blocks’ oldest dwelling, a restrained Craftsman built in 1905.
At 16th and Palos Verdes, the 1899 Muller House lies straight ahead. Maintained by the San Pedro Bay
Historical Society, who moved it from 19th and Grand in 1990, it’s open the first and third Sundays of each
month from 1 to 4 pm. If your timing is good, head down and take the tour! Otherwise, turn right on Palos
Verdes to the Dalmatian-American Club, built in 1935 in a restrained Art Deco style. Most of San Pedro’s
early fishing families came from either the Dalmatian Coast (part of Croatia), or Italy. The Club’s name has
always reflected political changes in the Balkans. It opened as the Jugoslav Club. In 1949, it was renamed the
Yugoslav-American Club, and in 1991, became the Dalmatian-American Club. (There’s also a Croatian
American Club at 631 9th, and an Italian American Club at 19th and Cabrillo.)
At the corner of 17th and Palos Verdes, the view opens up to the south and west. Carefully cross the street to the
sandy path on the other side. The scene you’re looking down upon has changed dramatically over the years. In
1888, the ocean reached all the way to the base of the bluff you’re standing on.

The upper ridgeline running out to Point Fermin is easily matched in both pictures, but the lower point, just
before the present-day Doubletree Hotel, is now obscured by trees and masts.
 Landfill has replaced the shallow waters of the Bay. What is now 22nd Street Park was a Union Oil Company
tank farm in the Sixties and Seventies. On August 9th, 1972, a huge fire raged there, causing one of the tanks to
shoot 300 feet into the air.

After the explosion and fire of the oil tanker Sansinena not far away in 1976, it was agreed (after much pressure
from the community) that these sorts of facilities did not belong next to residential areas. Vacant for 20 years,
the area was eventually reborn as 22nd Street Park, opening in 2010. A bike path follows the route of a rail spur
that once served Fort MacArthur.
When you’re finished observing, cross back over to 17th and head uphill. This block has an eclectic mix on its
north side, beginning with 230, a remodeled Spanish Colonial from 1948 that would be at home up the hill in
South Shores or Miraleste; 236, an Eichler-esqe Midcentury from 1950; and 242, a 1910 Queen Anne with a
fabulous pagoda cupola.
258 is a well-done 1991 Arts and Crafts 3-unit apartment. And then there’s 262. A hot mess of 1920 Queen
Anne duplex dilapidation, in early 2019 it looked like someone was trying to restore it.

268 is a lovingly-maintained 1930 bungalow whose sunny porch is often festooned with cats, and finally,
there’s 274, a two-story Craftsman from 1905.
Rounding the corner and turning right on Centre, we arrive in another time and another country. The tile roofed-
row of Spanish Colonial Revival dwellings on the west side were all built in the early Thirties, as was “La
Hacienda” at 1622-4.

The 1937 Centre Market on the corner completes the assemblage.

Crossing 16th, we come to an excellent example, dating from 1923, of what I’ve always thought of as a “San
Pedro House.” A vernacular Craftsman painted white, with rounded, lapped redwood siding, these were all over
town when I was growing up. I was raised in one built in 1924, though a layer of white asbestos shingles
covered the original siding by the time my parents bought it in 1957, and then my father covered those with
cedar shakes in the Seventies. 302 16th sits on a lot of less than 2,000 square feet, which, together with its
extended eaves and porch, makes it look a lot larger than the less than 600 square feet the Assessor gives it.

This house, along with 312 and 316 16th, sit on a standard 45x100 lot that was divided into thirds. Instead of the
usual 3-unit apartment, there are three single-family dwellings, each with their own tiny yard. 316, on the alley,
built in 1911, may sit on the smallest single parcel in town – 1,260 square feet.
Continue up 16th a little more, until you reach 337. The San Pedro Bay Historical Society believes it was built in
1885. Other sources say 1886 or 7. The Assessor says 1890. Regardless, it’s a beauty, with elaborate Eastlake
scrollwork on the bottom porch. The balcony is a recent addition.

Returning back to Centre, we pass through the small industrial zone again, but this time heading in a direction
that allows us to appreciate a piece of civic-minded graffiti in the alley on the Harbor side between 16th and 15th.
After crossing 15th, 1433 appears on the uphill side of the street. A 1911 gambrel-roofed 2-story, its yard is
lushly landscaped with palms and cycads.

1417 is a straightforward 1922 bungalow in the front, but behind is a 1989 2-unit addition with a Streamline
Moderne porthole. Carrying on the mixed-motif theme, 1411’s 1921 Pueblo/Spanish façade with its rounded
doorway and windows is backed by an all-right-angle building.
Crossing 14th, the following block of Centre showplaces mostly postwar dwellings on the uphill side, while the
Harbor side gets older and older, culminating in a beautifully-maintained 1905 Vernacular Victorian at 1302.

The following block has at least two interesting features. A pair of duplexes, 1217-19 from 1901, and 1211-13
from 1915, show how different the same use can look.
The Harbor side of the street is just two huge lots, each 100 x 135 feet. The first is a 1986 9-unit apartment and
parking garage. The second is La Sirenita Compound. Containing a whopping 14 site addresses, it houses 4
buildings, including the 1920 store with its 6 upstairs bedrooms.

The back side is redolent of its earlier incarnation as the meeting place of the Industrial Workers of the World,
in the early Twenties.
Heading up 12th Street, we pass some interesting stylistic mash-ups. The duplex at 351 has the stucco and tile of
a Spanish Colonial Revival, but with the straight lines of an older style. Further inspection reveals it to have the
earliest build date I’ve yet found in the Assessor’s records – 1885!

While next door at 357, a standard 1990 3-unit stucco apartment has been jazzed up with Eastlake-style porch
trim and a Colonial façade complete with faux shutters.
And finally, 377 has stucco and archways, but the form of a vernacular Victorian appropriate to its 1898
provenance.

Turning right on Mesa, we traverse an earlier block, but are now able to fully appreciate the castellated purity of
this 1927 Spanish Colonial Revival gem at 1117.

As we approach 10th Street, a group of unruly Ficus trees blocks our view of the back side of the St. Andrews
Presbyterian Church, (now the Lighthouse Bible Church) with its interesting conical protuberance. Proceeding a
ways up the alley brings it into partial focus. Crossing 10th to stand on the opposite corner gives us an excellent
view of the 1907 church, and the beautifully maintained 1900 Colonial Revival next door that served as its
rectory for a time.
This block of 10th is a delight. The aggregation of houses is amazing -- only one building on the south side is
less than 100 years old.
And the north side has treasures ranging from this small 1892 gem at 370…

… to this row of beauties, which ends …

… with what is arguably the most spectacular house on the tour, The Danish Castle.
As befits its majesty, legends have grown up around it. (The Danish sea captain it is named for is probably
apocryphal.) Its date of birth varies from ca. 1885 to 1894. Its style is called everything from Carpenter Gothic
to “early Queen Anne Revival with some earlier Eastlake details.” Whatever. It’s magnificent.
When you can finally drag yourself away (wait! What about that amazing 1888 white house with the 2nd floor
balcony at 345?) …

…turn left back down Centre towards 9th, enjoying its vistas from the opposite direction of your earlier
perambulation. At 9th, you can continue doing the same all the way back to your beginning point, OR, you can
continue downhill on Centre on the Harbor side ‘til you reach an alley. Turn right.
New construction lines the left side, and garages and fences line your right, until you reach 247 8th, set high on
its bluff.

Built in 1890, its view has changed radically over the years. Now it looks out at the Crowne Plaza Hotel and the
11-story Topaz Building (“The Waterfront Business Address for Creative Minds”) both built exactly 100 years
later.
Here, on the north edge of Vinegar Hill, our tour is almost over. Passing a last group of 7 duplexes from 1918,
we turn the corner to head out to 9th, perhaps taking a last look at the 1928 Municipal Building and the Harbor.

It’s then a short walk back to Plaza Park and our beginning place. Congratulations – you just walked 2.5 miles!