The wartime race to produce synthetic rubber left a toxic legacy in the South Bay

A sign warns against entering property at the 280-acre Superfund site near the corner of Del Amo Blvd. and Vermont Ave. in Harbor Gateway in this July 2008 Daily Breeze file photo. (Robert Casillas / Staff Photographer)

Japan’s surprise attack on Pearl Harbor in Hawaii on Dec. 7, 1941, was not an isolated act of war. Instead, it was just one part of a series of coordinated military attacks on Western colonies and outposts in the Far East on that day.

Japanese forces also attacked Indochina as Southeast Asia then was known. This included  Vietnam, Myanmar, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and parts of Malaysia, as well as American outposts in Guam, Hong Kong and the Philippines.

As a result, by mid-1942, Japan controlled all the rubber growing, production and shipping operations in the region, which accounted for more than 90 percent of the world’s supply. Rubber was key to wartime operations, not just for vehicle tires but for ships, airplanes and just about every other implement used in warfare.

1943 classified ad calls for cafeteria help wanted at the new Goodyear synthetic rubber plant, which had opened as the government-owned U.S. Synthetic Rubber plant earlier that summer. (Credit: Daily Breeze, Sept. 28, 1943, Page 7)

The Allies had stockpiles of rubber that would last for roughly 18 months, not nearly enough time to get any kind of natural rubber production started. They were in a real bind.

They found the answer in the newly rising industry of synthetic rubber production. A loosely  organized, rather desperate plan implemented beginning in 1942 resulted in the construction of more than 50 factories doing just that over the next 30 months in the U.S. alone.

The effort succeeded. The amount of synthetic rubber produced rose from next to nothing to more than 900,000 pounds a year. Wartime crisis averted, but the roots of another slower-burning problem had begun to take hold.

As it turns out, the production of synthetic rubber relies upon three toxic ingredients: butadiene, styrene and lamp black.

Butadiene, an oil-based substance that turns out to be highly carcinogenic, styrene, which causes nerve respiratory and eye damage in large concentrations, and lamp black, the production of which coated towns near factories with black soot.

The problems were more severe in industrial areas such as Akron, Ohio, known for its rubber production. But it turns out the South Bay was not immune.

A synthetic rubber plant quickly was put into operation just east of the Torrance city limit, on Del Amo Blvd. between Normandie and Vermont avenues in the Los Angeles city strip.

Daily Breeze, May 5, 1983, Page 1. (Credit: Daily Breeze archives)

The U.S. Synthetic Rubber Co. opened on the 280-acre site in the summer of 1943. It was soon  being operated by Goodyear Tire & Rubber and later Dow Chemical, with Shell Oil taking control of it in 1955. Shell closed the plant in 1966, and later demolished it.

The plant’s demolition still left six unlined pits and three unlined ponds on the site into which waste products had been deposited over the decades. They later were covered with soil, which did not solve the problem.

The property then was sold to development firm Cabot, Cabot & Forbes, who resold it to Cadillac Fairview/California, who owned the property when it was placed sixth on the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency’s Superfund list of the most dangerous sites in the U.S.

The high danger ranking was based mostly on its proximity to adjoining homes. Residents living in nearby residential neighborhoods complained of acrid fumes and burning eyes, and feared for the health of their children.

Daily Breeze, Nov. 30, 1983, Page 3. (Credit: Daily Breeze archives)

They expressed concern that the site was not sufficiently fenced off at the time, which posed another physical danger.

In addition, there existed the high potential for harmful chemicals from the unlined waste pit to leak out and contaminate underground water aquifers.

Once work began in earnest on remediating the site, its high negative rating began to fall. By 1984, it was number 76 on the Superfund list of most hazardous sites.

But cleanup still takes time. As of October 2023, the site still is undergoing long-term soil rehabilitation, according to the EPA. Corporate office parks have been built nearby, but the original narrow strip of polluted land remains empty.

The Del Amo Superfund site is the wide green strip of empty land at center between Normandie and Vermont avenues in this view looking west. Del Amo Blvd. along left of site is closed off. 2026 image. (Credit: Google Earth)

Sources:

Daily Breeze archives.

United States Environmental Protection Agency website.

The Wishing Tree Park under construction on Thursday, August 18, 2022. A street of homes was demolished near the Del Amo Superfund site and the 8.5 acres languished for over 25 years before being converted into the park thanks to the efforts of a local non-profit group, the Del Amo Action Committee. (Photo by Brittany Murray, Press-Telegram/SCNG)
Map shows Del Amo Superfund site location. Daily Breeze, May 5, 1983, Page 1. (Credit: Daily Breeze archives)

Gardena stood alone after South Bay cities battled over legalized gambling

A typical table at a card club in Gardena on April 6, 1960. (Credit; USC Digital Library)

Claude Rains said it to Humphrey Bogart, owner of Rick’s Cafe Americain in the 1942 film classic “Casablanca”: “I’m shocked! Shocked to find that gambling is going on in here.”

Nowadays, he could only say that in the South Bay in one of the two legal poker clubs left in Gardena, Larry Flynt’s Hustler Casino and Larry Flynt’s Lucky Lady Casino. After Hustler magazine publisher Flynt died in 2000, ownership of both was taken over by El Dorado LF, LLC, a company formed in part by Flynt’s daughter Elizabeth.

But for decades before that, gambling, and poker clubs in particular, as many as half a dozen clubs – the Normandie, Rainbow, Monterey, Embassy, Gardena and Horseshoe – flourished in the city.

They came about due to a loophole in California law. In 1891, the state legislature passed a law prohibiting all forms of gambling in the state. It listed banned card games by name, but notably left out draw poker.

Bars and poker clubs crowd the 14000 block of South Vermont Ave. in Gardena on July 21, 1982. Photo by Mike Mullen. (Credit: Los Angeles Public Library Photo Collection)

As we noted in a 2013 post, future gaming magnate Ernie Primm started the first card club in Gardena in 1936, the Embassy Palace, basing his  decision on the fact that draw poker was not specifically outlawed by that 1891 law. He also may have considered the fact that Gardena was a recentlly minted city, having just incorporated in 1930, and as such, perhaps more amenable to the idea.

After four men were arrested in Gardena in June 1937 for playing draw poker, Primm took their case all the way to the state attorney general. His ruling in Primm’s favor made draw poker legal in the city, and it remains so to this day. The ruling made it clear that so long as operators made their money by renting space at the gaming tables to players instead of taking a direct cut from the pot, their businesses were legal in the city.

Many attempts have been made over the years to overturn the ruling. In fact, four such tries between 1946 and 1962 all went down to defeat at the polls in Gardena. The closest vote occurred in 1946, but the proposed ban lost. 1,522 votes were cast for keep gambling to 1,097 for banning it. Despite fervent further campaigns by gambling opponents, none of the other attempts to quash it were really close.

As a result, gambling interests weren’t discouraged from trying to replicate their Gardena success in other South Bay cities.

The Redondo Beach Casino, postcard circa 1914. (Credit: California State Library)

Redondo Beach already had a particular reputation for illegal wagering activities in its El Paseo district, which included the Pavilion, Saltwater Plunge and Casino buildings. Small-time operators ran bingo and other games under the relaxed eye of law enforcement, with higher-stakes games often taking place behind closed doors.

Tony Cornero on Aug. 1, 1946. (Credit: UCLA Library, Dept. of Special Collections)

But when mobsters began moving in during the 1930s, authorities felt the need to crack down and clean up the area. The King Harbor redevelopment beginning in the late 1950s that cleared out the El Paseo district also cleared out most of the illegal activity for good.

Gambling ship owner Tony Cornero operated his full-on offshore gambling operations aboard The Rex and other ships during the 1930s in international waters off of Redondo beyond the three-mile limit. 

California Attorney General Earl Warren targeted those ships during his 1939 crackdown on gambling, and Cornero was forced to cease operations.

Cornero tried again in 1946 after World War II with a different ship launched out of Long Beach, the Bunker Hill, also known as the Lux. Warren, now the state’s governor, eventually shut him down again. Cornero gave up and moved to Las Vegas, where he died in 1955 after founding the Stardust hotel and casino in Las Vegas. He’s buried at Inglewood Park Cemetery.

Tony Cornero’s newly refurbished gambling ship, the Bunker Hill (also known as the Lux), which was meant to operate offshore of Los Angeles. After the Bunker Hill’s opening night, however, Cornero and five of his aides were arrested on felony charges of criminal conspiracy to conduct gambling games and serve alcohol without a license. (Credit: UCLA Library, Dept. of Special Collections)

Gambling supporters probably figured that what had worked in Gardena might also fly in Torrance. But in October 1938, the city voted against entertaining the approval of dozens of applications for permits to allow wagering in the city. In October 1944, the council passed an ordinance banning draw poker, and in 1946, voters defeated another measure that would have allowed gambling.

When noises again were made for the legalization of draw poker following World War II, anti-gambling forces brought Charter Amendment 3 to Torrance’s voters in April 1948.

Daily Breeze headline, April 10, 1948, Page 1. The anti-gambling measure passed. (Credit: Daily Breeze archives)

The measure called for voters and not the city council to have the power to decide the matter. It passed overwhelmingly, 1,924 for to 862 against. It was challenged in April 1950 by the pro-gambling Charter Amendment 9, which was defeated. The city never again entertained making gambling legal. Its neighbor, Lomita, voted to ban gambling as a part of its incorporation process in 1957.

In 1950, a pro-gambling statewide measure was placed on the California ballot. Proposition 6 would have set up a framework for licensing betting operations in the state. It was trounced at the polls, with 2,657,641 voting against and 729,297 in favor.

Several other Southern California cities have allowed card room operations over the years, including Bell Gardens, the City of Commerce, Compton, Hawaiian Gardens and Inglewood’s Hollywood Park Casino. Those are still in operation, in addition to the many Native American casinos in Riverside, San Bernardino, Ventura, Santa Barbara, San Diego and Imperial counties.

The cardroom at The Gardens Casino in Hawaiian Gardens on Wednesday, February 11, 2026.. (Photo by Leonard Ortiz, Orange County Register/SCNG)

Sources:

Daily Breeze archives.

“Draw, Stud and Hold ‘Em: A Brief History of Poker in L.A.” by D.J. Waldie, PBS SoCal website, March 25, 2017.

Redondo Reflex archives.

Torrance Press-Herald archives.

Wikipedia.

Torrance Herald, March 28, 1946, Page 7-A. (Credit: Torrance Historical Newspaper and Directories Archive database, Torrance Public Library)

Riviera Village Shopping Center arose as a result of the Hollywood Riviera housing development

The roughly triangular Riviera Village Shopping Center area in South Redondo is situated just blocks from the beach. 2026 image. (Credit: Google Maps)

The Riviera Village Shopping Center in Redondo Beach got its official name during the 1950s, but the open-air South Redondo retail area near the beach had been around for decades by then.

It developed not unlike Westwood Village did, and at about the same time. Westwood Village and UCLA both opened in 1929, with the modest open-air small businesses arriving to help serve the retail needs of the university. (Especially Stan’s Donuts, which sadly closed in 2020.)

The Riviera Village businesses arose in the late 1920s in response to the new housing tracts being built in the nearby area, most notably the Hollywood Riviera development, which officially opened in 1928.

Riviera Village Shopping Center photo looking south on Elena Avenue. Winchell’s Donuts can be seen beneath the Crocker Bank sign. Undated, circa mid-1970s. (Credit: Riviera Village Shopping Center Facebook page)

Developer Clifford Reid hoped to attract Hollywood celebrities to the development, and the Village shops and boutiques were meant to appeal to upper crust shoppers who theoretically would be living nearby.

The open-air small business district lies between Avenue I on the north and Palos Verdes Blvd. on the south, and mostly between Pacific Coast Highway on the east and Catalina avenues on the west.

Hollywood Riviera was a very successful development, but most of its denizens turned out to be upper middle class regular folks and not Hollywood elites. The shopping area still thrived during the next two decades.

Photo of onetime store Catalina Music taken from a Palos Verdes High School yearbook, circa early 1970s. (Credit: Old Palos Verdes,San Pedro and Long Beach memories Facebook, JohnGeoff Hagins Sr. collection)

The success of suburban shopping malls easily accessible by the new freeways being built during the post-World War II era began to have a threatening impact on more modest shopping areas such as Riviera Village, drawing customers away from city centers to the suburbs.

Business owners in Riviera Village decided in the early 1950s that they needed to organize in order to compete. They hired Victor Gruen Associates to help formulate a design plan for their outdoor shopping area.

Gruen plotted the triangular structure of Riviera Village, creating an outdoor shopping zone spanning several blocks with room for more than 300 mostly small shops that would also include ample parking, a necessity for suburban shopping centers.

Building contractor Forrest B. Yoder was chosen to be the business group’s president, and its members decided to make the informal name of their shopping area, the Riviera Village Shopping Center, its official name as well. The name has stuck for 71 years.

The Windjammer restaurant was located at the corner of Catalina Ave. and Avenue I. Photo circa mid-1950s. (Credit: Sherry Baker, Hollywood Riviera, California Facebook page)

In December 1954, the Village business group held a meeting at the Windjammer restaurant at Catalina Ave. and Avenue I to plot their future course. Calling themselves the Hollywood Riviera Village Association, they held a second meeting on Feb. 10, 1955.

Space for parking would still be a front-burner issue as recently as 2019, when the center’s management contemplated building an underground auto garage beneath its main parking lot. (The idea was tabled due to its prohibitive expense.)

Dozens of small businesses have come and gone in the center over the years. One of the more significant changes occurred in 1995, when Winchell’s Donuts was replaced by Starbucks Coffee. 

Starbucks Coffee, center with green awning, is currently located near Trader Joe’s on Elena Ave. Oct. 6, 2026. (Photo by Sam Gnerre)

The then-trendy, now-ubiquitous Seattle chain had just begun national expansion, and the addition signalled a forward-looking approach by the formerly staid, mom-and-pop Village. Its arrival  is credited for paving the way for the arrival of trendier shops and eateries.

Hennessey’s Tavern is the oldest still-operating business in Riviera Village. Paul Hennessey’s bar and restaurant opened in June 1976, and celebrated its 50th anniversary in 2026. It’s still going strong, as is the shopping center as a whole.

It hosts the annual Riviera Village Summer Festival, known as Frontier Days when it first began in the 1950s, which has become one of the city’s most popular events.

Hennessy’s Tavern on Catalina Ave. has been a part of Riviera Village in Redondo Beach since 1976. (Oct.. 6, 2026 photo by Sam Gnerre)

Sources:

Daily Breeze archives.

Palos Verdes Peninsula News archives.

Redondo Reflex archives.

“This Town Within a Town in the South Bay Was Made for Meandering,” by Chris Nichols, Los Angeles magazine, Sept. 25, 2018.

Air raid wardens bolstered civil defense effort on the home front during World War II

Daily Breeze, June 25, 1942, Page 9. (Credit: Daily Breeze archives)

The idea of the United States having to create an infrastructure to defend itself from possible aerial attacks on its homeland did not become a front-burner issue until the mid-1930s.

Several factors brought the possibility to the forefront. Most prominent was the development of larger, longer-range aircraft capable of executing bombing strikes from long distances, or from shorter distances using aircraft carriers, which were first developed near the end of World War I.

The rise of the German and Japanese empires during the 1930s presented President Franklin Delano Roosevelt with the growing possibility of air strikes on American shores from foreign adversaries.

That possibility was heightened by increasingly aggressive empire building by Japan and Hitler’s Germany in the late 1930s. The Blitz attacks by Germany on England’s mainland in 1940 caused particular alarm.

On May 20, 1941, nearly seven months before Japan’s Pearl Harbor attack, Roosevelt issued an executive order creating the Office of Civil Defense (OCD). New York City Mayor Fiorello La Guardia was named its first national director.

Insignia for the U.S. Office of Civilian Defense‘s air raid wardens. (Credit: Wikimedia Commons)

The OCD was charged with creating the Citizens Defense Corps, a massive civilian effort to help cope and respond to the threat of enemy attack on the homeland. This included training more than a million air raid wardens, each in charge of individual zones containing roughly 500 people.

Each warden was responsible for warning those in the sector about potential attacks, clearing streets, enforcing blackouts and guiding citizens to shelters if necessary. Each warden operated out of an often makeshift headquarters office within its sector.

Wardens were trained in first aid, firefighting techniques, recognizing dangerous war gases and training citizens in the use of gas masks, and educating citizens on preparing their homes for attacks. This included installing blackout windows, instructing them not to overload the phone lines with unnecessary calls and teaching them what actions to take in case of emergency.

Air raid wardens were in charge of making sure blackout drills ran smoothly, especially in coastal areas such as the Palos Verdes Peninsula and the Port of Los Angeles in San Pedro, a potential target du to its wartime shipbuilding activities.

The OCD reported in July 1942 that more than 600,000 air raid wardens had been trained and were on duty in the U.S. By 1943, more than 1 million citizens had become wardens, with an additional 5 million participating in other civil defense support efforts.

Air raid warden and popular actress Rosalind Russell gives the all-clear to light up a Chesterfield in this 1943 magazine ad. (Credit: Wikimedia Commons)

An early test of the new early warning system occurred on the night of Feb. 25, 1942. The event later was dubbed, facetiously, as “The Battle of Los Angeles,” and was lampooned in the 1979 Steven Spielberg comedy “1941.”

Rumors of a Japanese aerial attack began swirling on the evening of February 24th. Suspicious lights spotted near defense plants led to a 7:18 pm alert being called. It was cancelled at 10:23 p.m. A few hours later, at 2:25 a.m. on Feb. 25th, an unknown object in the sky  later identified as a weather balloon with a red flare attached was mistaken for an enemy plane, triggering a second, more intense alert.

This time, anti-aircraft guns, including those fired from Fort MacArthur in San Pedro, illuminated the night sky until the barrage was silenced at 4:14 am. As many as 1,400 anti-aircraft shells were estimated to have been fired.

During both incidents, air raid wardens performed their duties as they had been trained to do, mostly by attempting to herd people and cars off the blacked out streets and into their hopefully blackid-out homes and shelters. But the prospect of an actual attack brought elements of panic and hysteria to the operation.

When the smoke had cleared, three people had died in traffic accidents on the chaotic streets, and two more had died from stress-induced heart attacks.

Daily Breeze front page headlines, Feb. 25, 1942, Page 1. (Credit: Daily Breeze archives)

No enemy bombers were ever found, and the Japanese government insisted after the war that no warplanes had ever been sent anywhere near the California mainland.

Air raid wardens continued to perform their needed duties for the remainder of the war. As hostilities began to wind down, the threat of domestic attacks diminished significantly. In June 1945, the Office of Civil Defense was shut down.

It would return with different goals and activities in the 1950s during the Cold War and the perceived threat of nuclear war.

Scene from the 1943 Laurel & Hardy comedy film “Air Raid Wardens.” (Credit: Wikimedia Commons)

Sources:

Daily Breeze archives.

Palos Verdes Peninsula News archives.

“Protecting the Home Front,” American Rosie the Riveter Association” website, May 14, 2021.

San Pedro News Pilot archives.

Wikipedia.

Daily Breeze, Dec. 16, 1941, Page 8. (Credit: Daily Breeze archives)

This 1942 short film describes the role of air raid wardens:

https://archive.org/details/70694CastleFilmAirRaidWarning

A.K. Warren Water Resource Facility a vital link in L.A. County’s sewage treatment system

The main entrance to the A.K. Warren treatment plant Sept. 1, 2026. (Photo by Sam Gnerre)

The roots of the A.K. Warren Water Resources Facility run much deeper than its sleek buildings might suggest.

The modern-looking, low-slung complex situated just east of the 110 Freeway on South Figueroa St. in Carson plays a key role in Los Angeles County’s sewage treatment and remediation system.

Its namesake, Albert Kendall Warren, was a surveyor and civil engineer for the County. In 1923, together with Los Angeles Assemblyman Hugh Pomeroy and County Board of Supervisors chair R.F. McLellen, he came up with the idea of a countywide network of sewage plants linked to a main treatment plant. They created what we now know as the Los Angeles County Sanitation Districts.

Albert Kendall Warren at his desk.Undated photo circa 1920s. (Credit: California Water Environment Association)

The plan offered local control to its member cities, and a larger regional solution for final waste disposal.

Built in Carson in 1928, the Joint Disposal Plant at 24257 S. Figueroa St. was the final stop for human biowaste brought to the facility through a series of tunnels, known as trunk sewer lines, from other plants throughout the county.

In its early years, very little processing of the waste material was done; it mostly went to directly to landfills.

After years of public debate, construction began in 1935 on the White Point sewage outfall project along the San Pedro coastline. This entailed the creation of a huge tunnel linked to the Carson plant that would carry the sewage to an undersea outfall area located roughly 1.5 miles offshore from present-day Royal Palms State Beach. The sewage then would be released in the 200-feet-deep waters of San Pedro Bay.

 Construction continues on the White Point sewage tunnel in San Pedro in 1936. (Credit: USC Digital Library)

Funding for the massive $2.8-million project came from the Public Works Administration (PWA), an agency created as part of President Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s New Deal. The six-mile-long tunnel was completed in 1937. (A second parallel  tunnel was built in 1958 to increase capacity.)

All the individual cities had to do at that point was to finance the construction of smaller feeder trunk lines to connect to the larger county tunnels carrying effluent to the White Point outfall.

On Sept. 7, 1949, Mayor Charles Wortham of Redondo Beach told the Daily Breeze, “The South Bay cities have stopped dumping their sewage on their own beaches.”

He was referring to the beach cities of Redondo, Manhattan and Hermosa, who on that day had begun using the County’s White Point option after years of dissatisfaction with operations at the much closer L.A. City Hyperion sewage plant near El Segundo.

Daily Breeze, March 12, 1949, Page 4. (Credit: Daily Breeze archives)

A couple decades later, an unexpected new use of the tunnels would lead to environmental disaster. The successful use of the insecticide DDT to kill mosquitos and thus quell malaria outbreaks among Allied troops fighting in World War II resulted in the wider production and use of the substance.

In 1947, Montrose Chemical Corp. began the commercial manufacture of DDT at its new plant on Normandie Ave. in the Harbor Gateway just east of the Torrance city limit. The Montrose plant immediately began dumping unprocessed toxic effluent resulting from its production directly into the County’s sewage system. The deadly chemicals ultimately ended up in San Pedro Bay via the White Point outfall.

A worker cleans out DDT-laced sediment in a sewage tunnel that received wastewater from Montrose Chemical in this undated photo. (Credit: U.S. Environmental Protection Agency)

The dumping went on for decades. The 1962 publication of Rachel Carson’s environmental call-to-arms Silent Spring (Houghton Mifflin), sounded the initial national alarm about the dangers of DDT. Eventually it was determined that the chemical and its byproducts were  destroying sea life in San Pedro Bay.

Montrose Chemical closed its DDT plant in 1982. It took years, but the ocean wildlife eventually began to return to more normal levels.

In 1963, the year after Silent Spring was published, the Joint Disposal Plant’s name was changed to the Joint Water Pollution Control Plant in recognition of its efforts to treat liquid and solid waste instead of merely dumping it offshore. This goal would be officially mandated and regulated by  the passage of the federal Clean Water Act in 1972.

The L.A. County Sanitation District as currently constituted includes feeder plants in La Canada Flintridge, South El Monte, Long Beach, Cerritos, Pomona and Whittier, in addition to the main processing plant in Carson.

The Sanitation District initiated the Clearwater Project in 2019, an operation that will modernize and upgrade the tunnel system, some of whose structures date back to the 1930s. Its completion is scheduled for 2027.

Map shows the tunnel path from the Warren Facility, upper right, to the White Point outfall area. (Credit: Los Angeles Sanitation Districts)

Sources:

California Water Environment Association website.

Daily Breeze archives.

Los Angeles County Sanitation Districts website.

San Pedro News Pilot archives.

The original Joint Disposal Plant on Figueroa St. during the 1920s. (Credit: Los Angeles County Sanitation Districts website)
The A.K. Warren Water Resource Facility, center, currently covers 36 acres. View looking east, with 110 Freeway at bottom and Figueroa St at middle. Undated recent photo. (Credit: Los Angeles County Sanitation Districts website)

Torrance’s first mayor helped lead the city through its incorporation process in 1921

George Proctor appears, top, pointing, in this lost film shot at Union Tool Co. Title and date of film unknown. (Credit: Torrance Herald, 1936 Torrance on Review special section, Torrance Historical Newspaper and Directories Archive database, Torrance Public Library)

George Alphy Proctor’s name doesn’t have the same familiar ring as that of Jared Sydney Torrance, wealthy founder of the city of Torrance.

But every burgeoning community needs enthusiastic boosters like Proctor to help get it up and running in its early days.

Proctor was born in Vale, Iowa, on June 16, 1880, to John and Barbara Proctor. The family moved to Southern California in 1884.

George got a job in 1907 as a machinist with Union Tool Co. in Los Angeles, which moved its plant that manufactured equipment for use in the oil drilling industry to Torrance in December 1912.

Union Tool was the first large firm to move to Torrance as part of Jared Sydney Torrance’s idea to build a “Planned Modern Industrial City,” whose workers could live in the city where they worked. He announced the founding of the city in March 1912, and ground officially was broken that October.

Company officials pose in front of the under-construction Union Tool Co. in Torrance in the fall of 1912. (Daily Breeze file photo)

Proctor commuted at first, as he was less than impressed with Torrance’s dusty fields upon his initial visit there with his wife, Minnie, whom he married in 1903. Here’s how she described that visit to the area to the Torrance Herald in 1936:

“I remember when we first came down to Torrance and saw the new city-to-be. George looked at me and I looked at him. ‘Humph,” he declared, “I wouldn’t live here if they gave me the place!’”

Proctor eventually grew weary of the commute from downtown L.A., though, and the couple moved into a house at 1740 Gramercy in Torrance in 1913. Houses by then had become a hot commodity in the growing town. (The Proctors later moved to 1512 Post Ave.)

He changed his tune, and turned himself into one of the new settlement’s biggest supporters. He became active in the newly formed Chamber of Commerce, joining his fellow members in advocating strongly for the new city’s incorporation. 

The Chamber’s members feared annexation by the city of Los Angeles, especially since the city’s financial assets continued to increase in value due to its industrial plants, and the impending possibility of finding oil deposits there.

With the Chamber’s push, the issue was put to a vote on April 12, 1921, and the measure passed overwhelmingly, 355 in favor and 21 against. Voters also chose the first official board of trustees to run the new city.

The incorporation took effect on May 21, 1921. On that day, the five-member board voted for its president from among its members, and George Proctor became the city’s first mayor, though officially he was elected president of its board of trustees.

Undated postcard shows Sartori Ave. looking east towards the Pacific Electric depot in downtown Torrance in the 1920s. (Credit: CSUDH Digital Library)

For the next 37 years, Torrance’s mayor was selected by a vote of the council from among its sitting members. Albert Isen wouldn’t become the city’s first publicly elected mayor until 1958, and Torrance voters have elected all the mayors since then.

Proctor served as the city’s head for one year, but his civic engagement continued after his term ended on April 17, 1922. He was succeeded by J.M. Fitzhugh.

He offered his advice to other communities exploring the benefits of incorporation, including to the Moneta area of Gardena in 1923.

He served as president of the Torrance Chamber of Commerce several times, was active with the Red Cross and other charities, belonged to the Torrance Elks lodge and was an active participant in the city’s volunteer fire department.

With his volubility, considerable girth and genial manner, Proctor also was a natural to play Santa Claus at Christmastime, and did so many times.

In 1927, he became plant-wide employment manager at Union Tool, which had become a part of the National Supply Co. He would serve in that role until his death.

Proctor suffered from diabetes, and died at 48 on Sept. 4, 1928, following an operation at Torrance Memorial Hospital.

Torrance Herald’s front-page banner headline following Proctor’s death on Sept. 4, 1928. (Credit: Torrance Historical Newspaper and Directories Archive database, Torrance Public Library)

The city honored its community leader and former mayor by lowering all its flags to half mast. Businesses closed for the day. Tributes poured forth from not only Torrance residents, but also leaders of other communities who had worked with Proctor before and after his brief mayoral stint.

In its tribute, the Torrance Herald quoted what he said when he declined to run for another term as a trustee: “I want to keep serving the city, but no man can do his duty as he sees it and remain an official forever. It is time that I step aside and hand the job to someone else. But if they ever need me again, I’ll be here.”

His wife, Minnie, died in Los Angeles on June 20, 1945, after 40 years as a children’s dentist. She held the honor of becoming the first-ever female graduate of the University of Southern California Dental College.

Mayor George Proctor is seen third from right chomping on a cigar in this early 1920s photo taken during a Torrance group trip to Redondo Beach. (Credit: Historic Torrance: A Pictorial History of Torrance, California, Legends Press, 1984.)

Sources:

City of Torrance website.

Find A Grave website.

Daily Breeze archives.

Historic Torrance: A Pictorial History of Torrance, California, by Dennis F. Shanahan and Charles Elliott, Jr., Legends Press, 1984.

Torrance Press-Herald archives.

Note: Nadine Kirk of Torrance adds this to the story:

Thank you for this article, we are most interested in the history of Old Torrance. Imagine my surprise to see our address as the first residence of former Mayor Proctor in Torrance! We have lived at 1740 Gramercy since 1980, and although we thought the house was built prior to 1918 we didn’t realize it dates back to 1913. Thank you very much for the information.

Best, Nadine (and Richard) Kirk

Clifton-by-the-Sea took the long way in becoming part of Redondo Beach

Vintage map circa 1914 shows the location of Cliffton-by-the-Sea and the Sea Gull Inn, center. (Credit: Courtesy Old Palos Verdes, San Pedro and Long Beach Memories Facebook page)

In late 1905, railroad magnate and entrepreneur Henry Huntington bought 1,010 acres of land south of Redondo Beach known as the Downey Ranch. The property once was owned by John Downey, California’s governor from 1860-1862.

The Pacific Electric Railway owner planned to end his Redondo Beach Red Car line there at what he envisioned to be a first-class resort development aimed at well-to-do home buyers. Planned amenities would include a hotel, golf course, tennis courts and a clubhouse building..

In 1906, he named the new development “Clifton-by-the-Sea,” or Clifton for short. The name later became  “Cliffton” with two f’s, and, somewhat confusingly, has reverted back to the single-f spelling in more recent times.

So if Huntington was the development’s owner, after whom was “Clifton/Cliffton” named? The answer is no one, as the name was a shorthand version of its description as a “cliff town by the sea.” Today the region is generally referred to as South Redondo.

The undeveloped coast at Cliffton in 1909. (Credit: Los Angeles Herald Sunday Magazine, Oct. 3, 1909, Page 3.)

Huntington and his developers began laying out the U-shaped new settlement In 1907. Unlike the streets in nearby Redondo, the east-west streets were given letter names, Avenues A through I. Locals still refer to the area as “The Avenues.”

Huntington’s 14-room, two-story seaside house near the shoreline cliffs was designed by architects Myron Hunt and Elmer Grey, who also designed the Huntington Library in San Marino. The Cliffton residence was completed in 1907 on land he’d purchased earlier that year for $15,000.

He used the home at 826 Esplanade between Avenue A and Avenue B as a coastal getaway until April 8, 1914, when it officially opened after its transformation into the Sea Gull Inn restaurant.

Interior of the former Henry E. Huntington home between Avenues A and B on the Esplanade. The postcard shows the dining room after the residence had become the Sea Gull Inn in 1914. (Credit: Redondo Beach Public Library, John Moon Collection)

Frequently used for club meetings and other such community events, the Sea Gull Inn later became the Ocean View Rest Home, and eventually was replaced by condominium developments in the 1970s.

Interest grew in the widely promoted development, and Redondo’s leaders were quick to take notice. The first of a lengthy series of annexation attempts by the city that stretched all the way to 1982 failed in 1909. Smaller portions of Cliffton were annexed successfully in 1913 and 1914.

Work on the golf course and country club continued, and the course’s official opening was held on May 30, 1914. In June, the club began soliciting for new members and holding events in its facility. Tennis courts and a swimming pool also were added.

The Cliffton Country Club continued to stump for new members, but only 47 had been recruited by 1922. The golf course itself also was open to the public, which was somewhat unusual at the time.

The Cliffton Country Club clubhouse shortly before its official opening on April 8, 1914. Los Angeles Times, April 5, 1914, Page 100. (Credit: Los Angeles Times archival database)

The country club’s building on Avenue C made the news in December 1918, when it was transformed into an emergency hospital to treat victims of the then-raging Spanish flu epidemic. 

Though golf tournaments and events apparently were held there into the 1930s, neither the golf course nor its clubhouse have survived to the present day.

Redondo Beach continued its efforts to annex all of Clifton-by-the-Sea, holding elections on the issue in 1926, 1930 and 1943. But the residents of the unincorporated area, now known as Clifton Heights, stood firm in resisting the city’s blandishments. (As time went by, the single-f spelling of the area, Clifton-by-the-Sea, seems to have become permanent.)

Los Angeles County Regional Planning Commission land use map from June 1948 shows the L-shaped unincorporated Clifton Heights area. Top of map is north. (Credit: Huntington Library Digital Collection)

Redondo’s annexation of two small areas in 1951 and 1952 created a buffer zone that cut off any danger of Torrance claiming the area. But further Redondo annexation attempts in 1959 and 1968 also failed to sway Clifton Heights residents. 

Finally, the passage of a new 1977 California law, the Municipal Organization Act, allowed larger cities to annex unincorporated “islands” of territory under a certain size without having to hold a vote. Fortunately for Redondo Beach, Clifton Heights barely met the size qualifications.

The Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors still had to approve the move, which they finally did in 1980. Redondo’s annexation of the last remnant of the original Clifton-by-the-Sea development, composed of 778 homes with 1,570 residents, became final in 1982.

Looking south along the coast of Redondo Beach, the Hotel Redondo and Wharfs No. 2 and 3 can be seen with Cliffton-by-the-Sea in the distance. Postcard circa 1910. (Credit: CSUDH Digital Archives)

Sources:

City of Redondo Beach Historic Context Statement, by Marguerite Duncan-Abrams and Barbara Milkovich, Ph.D, Historical Resources Management, 1995.

Daily Breeze archives.

“H. E. Huntington”s “Clifton-by-the-Sea” Cottage in Redondo Beach, CA (1907-1914),” by Nancy Armitage, Inside the Huntington’s Story website, June 15, 2022.

Los Angeles Herald archives.

Los Angeles Times archives.

Old Redondo: A Pictorial History of Redondo Beach, California, by Dennis Shanahan, Legends Press, 1982.

Redondo Reflex archives.

Undated postcard of the Sea Gull Inn at Clifton-by-the-Sea circa mid-1910s. Namesake gulls circle at middle right. (Credit: Inside the Huntington’s Story website)

Seadromes: Ocean landing strips for airplanes seemed like a good idea for a time

1930s diagram of Edward Robert Armstrong’s seadrome concept. (Credit: Modern Mechanix, Feb. 1934 issue)

The dawn of the aviation age opened up a world of possibilities for the passenger transportation industry. The first American commercial airline flight in a fixed-wing plane took place on New Year’s Day in Miami in 1914.

Though excitement about aviation quickly reached a fever pitch, the early generation of airplanes had severe limitations when it came to distance flights.

Enthusiasm about transoceanic flight soared after Charles Lindbergh’s May 20-21,1927 flight from New York to Paris. But for several reasons, such lengthy excursions were still many years away.

Most airplanes of the day, including LIndbergh’s single-engine monoplane Spirit of St. Louis, were heavy, slow, and required large amounts of fuel to travel more than a few hundred miles.

Lindbergh had to add several heavy fuel tanks to his plane in order to complete his journey. Most planes had to be refueled after just a few hundred miles of travel.

It was during this era that the concept of seadromes, landing strips for airplanes built on the ocean, began to gain traction.

Edward Robert Armstrong works in the water with an early model of his seadrome in 1905. (Credit: Wikimedia Commons)

Enter American engineer Edward Robert Armstrong, a tireless promoter of the seadrome idea as far back as 1913. Armstrong insisted seadromes would work. 

He envisioned a series of eight such structures stretching across the Atlantic Ocean at intervals of roughly 350 miles. Each leg of the flight would take about three hours.

San Pedro News Pilot, Nov. 14, 1931, Page 9. Associated Press graphic. (Credit: San Pedro News Pilot archives)

The landing platforms would be built atop posts sunk into the ocean floor in a manner that would keep them from being destabilized by waves and ocean currents.

The seadromes would serve not only airplanes, but also zeppelins, which were considered a viable option as well in the late 1920s and early 1930s. In addition to accommodating landings and takeoffs, they would also have hotels, passenger lounges and other entertainment.

Some entrepreneurs even proposed using them to avoid the ban on alcohol during Prohibition, though this eventually was more economically achieved by using ships repurposed as floating taverns.

Armstrong’s plans for passenger aircraft seadromes seemed always to be just on the edge of coming to fruition in newspaper stories from the era. Work on the Atlantic stepping-stone project was “starting soon” according to a November 1931 Associated Press story.

Unfortunately, the timing was off. Seadromes were expensive to build, and major investors shied away while the country was in the throes of the Depression. At the same time, improvements in aviation technology led to longer flights and lighter planes able to carry more passengers.

An American Airlines DC-3 passenger plane in flight circa late 1930s. (Credit: USC Digital Library, California Historical Society collection)

The arrival of the Douglas DC-3 passenger plane in 1936 revolutionized passenger flight. The planes could carry 20-30 passengers at much lower fares, and had a range of 1,500 miles.

The technological improvements began to render Armstrong’s ideas obsolete as World War II approached. The U.S. military deemed the idea too expensive, and the platforms themselves far too vulnerable to enemy attack. 

Aircraft carriers performed the same function, and added portability and maneuverability to the equation. In the Pacific theater, Allied forces were able to use the ocean’s hundreds of small islands and atolls to “island hop” from one destination to another.

Armstrong’s plan never did come to fruition, but his ideas continued to intrigue aviation planners. 

At some point in the early 1950s, Los Angeles International Airport planners authorized a $15,000 research study to evaluate the viability of constructing a seadrome in Santa Monica Bay.

Locator map from 1950s LAX study on viability of seadromes. (Credit: Courtesy Flight Path Museum LAX)

It would be used as an adjunct to the regular airport. Passengers would use commuter helicopters to travel the 9.5 miles offshore to reach the facility.

The idea never made it out of the study stage and was never part of any subsequent LAX master plans.

A seadrome also was proposed in 1967 in a feasibility study by Transportation Systems Corp. for the LAX Board of Airport Commissioners. The idea never got any further.

Armstrong died in 1955, but not before his later efforts with DuPont and Sun Oil led to his ideas and basic designs being used by the oil industry to create and deploy offshore oil rigs.

Edward Armstrong, left, next to artist’s rendition of seadrome. San Pedro News Pilot, April 24, 1928, Page 1. (Credit: San Pedro News Pilot archives)

Note: Thanks to Mike George.

Sources:

“Airports Across the Oceans,” by Stewart B. Nelson, American Heritage’s Innovations and Technology website, Summer 2001.

Daily Breeze archives.

“LAX Alternate Universe,” Jean Christophe-Dick, Flight Path Museum LAX website, Jan 12, 2022.

Los Angeles Times archives.

San Pedro News PIlot archives.

“Seadromes… on Islands and Megastructures,” dpr-Barcelona website.

Wikipedia.

Diagram from 1950s LAX study on viability of seadromes shows possible flight deck layout. (Credit: Courtesy Flight Path Museum LAX)

The popular Pacific Electric Red Car line made getting to San Pedro easy for all

Map of San Pedro area Pacific Electric Railway routes prepared by Caltrans in 1981. (Credit: Caltrans)

By the 1920s, it became possible to hop aboard a commuter train at 6th and Main streets in downtown Los Angeles, ride it to Los Angeles Harbor, switch to the Catalina Island Terminal line in Wilmington, and, at that terminal, catch a ride aboard a steamship over to the Island, all without using a car.

Or, you could stay on the train into downtown San Pedro, if that was your goal.The Pacific Electric Railroad’s Red Car system made it possible.

Portrait of Henry E. Huntington, founder of the Pacific Electric Railway Undated. (Credit: Los Angeles Public Library Photo Collection)

Railroad baron Henry Huntington, president of the Southern Pacific Railroad Co., envisioned a separate passenger railroad system in the early 1900s. SP trains already were in operation in the region, hauling cargo to and from Los Angeles Harbor, but Huntington saw the need to add an integrated passenger railroad system.

He formed the Pacific Electric Railway Co. on Nov. 10, 1901. By the next year, he’d completed the first segment of his plan, a long line from Los Angeles to Long Beach. The 20-mile link opened on July 4th, 1902. The popular route was the first to open to passengers, and would be the last to close in 1961.

Huntington sold his interest in Pacific Electric to Southern Pacific in 1910. The larger company reorganized the railway, which continued to operate under the Pacific Electric name.

The San Pedro Red Car line was a natural, providing transportation for workers to and from their jobs in the bustling Harbor Area, in addition to passengers headed for the area’s beaches and other recreational offerings.

Despite a high volume of passengers, in its early days the “station” at 5th and Front streets was a ramshackle one-room wooden building with neither seats inside nor benches outside for waiting passengers. (Front St. became Harbor Blvd. after a 1912 revamp.)

This left groups of passengers standing around and in the street, which often snarled traffic in the area. After more than a decade, the San Pedro News PIlot, then called the Daily Pilot, addressed the issue on the front page of its issue of Nov. 30, 1917: 

A San Pedro line Red Car sits on the tracks near 14th and Beacon streets in 1911. (Credit: USC Digital Library, California Historical Society collection)

“It is probable that there are few, if any railroad terminals in America where so little convenience is afforded patrons as right here in San Pedro. The San Pedro terminal is a monument to inefficiency and inconvenience.”

The railroad was slow to react, but it eventually did. By 1919, plans for a new mission-style two-story depot had been drawn up, and construction began on the building at Fifth St. and Harbor Blvd. near the present-day Los Angeles Maritime Museum began on March 16, 1920.

It opened later that year, and was by all accounts a first-rate facility that smoothed out the earlier traffic problems and eased the drama of making connections to various Harbor Area destinations.

By then, the Red Cars had become an established mode of transport for thousands of people, and would remain so for the next couple of decades.

The San Pedro Pacific Electric Railway depot, located at 510 S. Harbor Boulevard. 1921 photo.
(Credit: Los Angeles Public Library Photo Collection)

Once the system was established, tweaks could be made to it when special needs arose. The rise of the defense industry in the Harbor Area with the arrival of World War II made it necessary to facilitate the flow of employees to wartime shipbuilding plants on Terminal Island.

California Shipbuilding, a wartime producer of  military ships, employed as many as 40,000 employees during the war. A joint venture between industrialist Henry Kaiser and Todd Shipyards, Calship needed to find a better way to get its employees to work.

Pacific Electric responded to the situation by connecting an extension of its line to the Catalina Island Terminal building across to Terminal Island and the Calship plant in 1943. It operated for the final two years of the war before being closed in 1946. It would be the last new line built by the railroad.

By that time, several regular lines had been shut down in the South Bay, including lines serving Torrance, Gardena and Redondo Beach in 1940. The rise of the automobile led to the funding of more highways, including the beginnings of the freeway system with the opening of the Arroyo Seco Parkway in 1940.

The writing was on the wall in 1947, when the California Public Utilities Commission issued stark warnings on the shaky financial condition of the commuter rail system. Ridership was down sharply following the war, and Pacific Electric was unable to make the necessary changes to survive.

Los Angeles Times, February 23, 1961, Page 47. (Credit: Courtesy Los Angeles Times archives)

A last-ditch effort to integrate the Red Cars onto median strips of the new freeways being built was shot down by the Los Angeles City Council. Though it limped on for a few years, the system was too weak to survive..

The San Pedro line and its Catalina Terminal branch line closed for good on Dec. 7, 1958. The Long Beach line, the last to be shut down, made its final run on April 8, 1961. The San Pedro Pacific Electric depot building was torn down in February 1961.

Nostalgia for the Red Cars runs deep. A group of enthusiasts pushed for the reopening of a 1.7-mile-long section of the Pacific Electric line from the World Cruise Center south to 22nd St. in San Pedro. They succeeded for a time; it operated from 2003 to 2015. Periodic attempts to revive it have been made, but have yet to come to fruition.

A restored Pacific Electric Red Car runs along San Pedro’s waterfront. The revived trains ran between 2003 and 2015. Undated, circa early 2000s. (Daily Breeze staff file photo)

Sources:

Los Angeles Times archives.

“1981 Inventory of Pacific Electric Routes,” California Dept. of Transportation (Caltrans), February 1982.

Pacific Electric Red Cars (unpublished manuscript), by Bob Petersen, Redondo Beach, 1992.

San Pedro Bay Historical Society website.

San Pedro News Pilot archives.

Pacific Electric Railway cars are piled up at a Terminal Island junkyard in 1956 to be dismantled and sold for scrap metal. March 19, 1956 Los Angeles Times photo. (Credit: Wikimedia Commons, UCLA Digital Library, Los Angeles Times collection)

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