But this is Chico, too

Last week marked the first anniversary of this blog. One of the reasons I started it was because I wanted to dip my toe into the future and get a taste of a time when all newspaper columns will be posted strictly online.

If that time comes, will we still call newspapers newspapers? We already know that columns will be called entries, posting or updates. And I suppose stories will still be stories. But what will the electronic paperless product be called?

I’m dipping my toe into the future in more ways than one. I’m on the copy desk at the E-R and one of my jobs is to place stories on our Web site at the end of my shift. The Web site was recently redesigned. As a result, the copy editors have more steps than ever to perform. Ten years ago, the copy desk’s sole focus was the newspaper, but today we support two versions of our product.

In point of fact, production of the print version is already largely done electronically. The pages of the newspaper don’t taken on a physical dimension until the plates that go on the press are produced. To a large extent, the future is now.

About two months ago, I returned to the copy desk after spending three years as a feature writer. The demands of my later afternoon and evening shift have made it harder to find the time during work hours to update my blog. It’s likely I’ll post entries no more than about once a week.

My decision shows how closely I associate blogging with my job. I’m not willing to spend a lot of my free time nurturing it along.

I have to hand it to bloggers and general and my fellow bloggers in the NorCal Blogs group, who do it just because. Some of them have a new posting every day. That’s an amazing level of commitment. I imagine they must have other parts to their life — jobs, family, friends and hobbies and interests that take them away from their computers. They lead real lives alongside their virtual lives. They have to. Without a real life, they wouldn’t have much to blog about.

Posted by Steve Brown at 12:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Palm trees remind me of beach towns. If the Sacramento Valley turned into a sea or the Big One came along and knocked the coast into the ocean, Chico would have a good start on having some of the appropriate foliage to celebrate its liberation from being landlocked.

Despite their associations with balmy weather, palm trees are surprisingly hardy. This is Chico, after all. It can get kind of nippy around here. Many of the city’s palms have somehow survived more than a century of winter temperatures that dip down into the 20s and sometimes reach the teens.

Palms are among the tallest trees in Chico’s urban forest. They give it a hint of the jungle. They perfectly express John Bidwell’s desire to populate the city he founded with exotic plants.

Bidwell and his wife Annie were fond of native plants, too. They liked to roam the countryside on “botanizing” expeditions. But they had no qualms about mixing it up. Immigrant and native plants were equally welcome in their eden.

Palm trees are regal. A row of them can add a touch of elegance to the shabbiest street. One or two of them can redeem the most unkempt yard.

They are made to order for grand boulevards.

Chicoans continue to add them to the landscape despite modern-day concerns about how appropriate they are.

They have nothing to do with Chico’s physical environment, but everything to do with its cultural heritage. Nature didn’t put them here, but settlers brought them. They wanted to add yet another marvel to this garden of earthly delights. They wanted something that couldn’t grow in Brooklyn, Boise or Battle Creek.

The palm trees shown in this entry are, top to bottom, next to The Graduate on W. Seventh Street, the southwest corner of E. First and Mangrove avenues, the southwest corner of W. Fifth and Hazel streets and Broadway in the Barber neighborhood.

Posted by Steve Brown at 10:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

To complete this walk around the block, follow Memorial Way until you reach Camellia Courtyard. The Morning Thunder Cafe, housed in a moderne style building, is on the corner. According to “The Chico User’s Guide,” written by Eric Norlie, Morning Thunder was called the Chicken Kitchen in the early 1950s. It’s older by far than the rest of Camellia Courtyard, which was built in the late 1990s. Its main tenant, Christian and Johnson Co. gift store, started out as Lindo Nursery in 1907.

A story by E-R Business Editor Laura Urseny about the history of Christian and Johnson appeared in the newspaper earlier this month.

The story points out that in the early days, the business was on Cemetery Way because it was the road leading to the cemetery. Ray Johnson, one of the owners, didn’t like that, so he had the city rename it Camellia Way.

Camellia Courtyard is one of Chico’s best looking small shopping centers. I don’t even care to call it a striip mall. I also like the decorative lamp posts that line Camellia. The theme of this walk around the block is loss, but the evolution of the Christian and Johnson property has been all to the good.

Camellia Way is my favorite way of entering downtown. You know it’s just up ahead, but you don’t see it until you cross the bridge and jog to the right.

I especially like the view on Saturday mornings when the Farmers Market is being held. It will be a loss to the city if the parking garage is built here. I’m in favor of a garage, but not at this site.

I don’t recommend you faithfully complete this walk around the block. You don’t have to head west on First Street. This is a part of downtown that’s crying out to be reborn. it’s pretty non-descript right now. Whatever changes happen here, the gains will offset the losses.

You might as well just head west on Second Street, which will take you directly into the heart of downtown.

Posted by Steve Brown at 03:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The theme of this walk around the block is loss. This long block winds around the so-called “Lost Park,” the part of Bidwell Park that lies between Camellia Way and The Esplanade. It’s not so much lost as inaccessible. It’s so tucked away from view that we forget the park property stretches all the way from a remote canyon in the east to just across the street from the Bidwell Mansion.

Start this walk at the northeast corner of First Street and Shasta Way, a street that keeps this name for exactly one block. You are looking at two almost identical buildings that went up in the 1960s. Why did we put up such ugly buildings in the mid-20th century? It’s a question I never tire of asking. The photo I’ve taken of the corner building tries to show it in its best possible light.

The two buildings replaced the Sacramento Northern Railroad Depot. That building was moved and now sits not too far away from Highway 99 just south of Chico.

As you cross Big Chico Creek, have a look at a patch of lost park. On the other side of the bridge is Bidwell’s Mill Creekside apartments, a bit of land that has been lost to history, except for the name.

This is indeed the site of John Bidwell’s flour mill, which perished twice in fires, and was rebuilt each time. At the turn of the 20th century, it was torn down again and Sperry Flour Co. put up a three-story brick building that stood until the early 1960s. It was first used to mill flour and later to mill rice, along with the brick building to the north, which still stands.

Now known as Northern Star Mills, this building has lost only its earlier use. Today, it’s a garden, farm and pet supply store. It’s the only building on this block that's part of vintage Chico.

Turn right on Memorial Way and head east. Halfway along this block you’ll come to the entrance to Lindo Park, a mid-20th century suburban housing development that seems to have lost its way. It seems out of place in the middle of the city.

Join me next time and we’ll complete this walk around the block.

Posted by Steve Brown at 11:18 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

We’re going to finish this walk around the block by starting out at the northwest corner of Main and W. Fourth Street, the site of the Park Hotel. Head west on Fourth and you’ll come to the pink four-story Waterland-Breslauer building. It and the Nottelman building on Third Street are this block’s principal ties to the past.

The E-R recently ran a series about downtown Chico written by students in Dave Waddell’s advanced reporting class at Chico State University. A story by Vince Abbate gave a history of the 96-year-old building. Abbate writes that at the time it was built, Waterland-Breslauer was one of the most modern structures in Northern California. The building has an equally distinguished predecessor. This is the site of the Presbyterian Church, which John and Annie Bidwell were instrumental in having built. The church long ago moved to First Street, at the north end of Broadway.

Head north on Broadway. Birkenstocks is one of the Waterland-Breslauer building tenants. I have visited the store twice. Six years ago, my wife and I bought sandals. A couple of weeks ago I went with my wife to replace her sandals. Mine are still in good shape. Because its footwear is so durable, Birkenstocks is one of those stores you don't visit very often.

Next up, the empty store that until recently housed Victorianna Antiques has a new tenant. Its nooks and crannies are once again full of antiques and collectibles. One of my fantasies is that the basement of this store provides one of the entryways to downtown’s legendary Chinese tunnels.

The tunnels are one of Chico’s most famous urban myths. Were they real? Probably not, but something close to them did exist. In his last interview, which appeared in the Chico State University alumni magazine Chico Statements, the late historian John Nopel said a basement once connected all the stores on the west side of Broadway between First and Second streets. He said there was even a dance hall down there.

Posted by Steve Brown at 10:06 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

This is a block that has lost most of its ties to the past. It's one of the oldest parts of Chico, but the only reason you know it is that adjacent blocks have a higher proportion of older buildings.

Start this walk on the southeast corner of Broadway and W. Third Street. It’s the home of the World Savings Chico branch. This building rose from the ashes of a fire that destroyed several businesses, including a bar called the Silver Room, in 1970. During this blaze, Fire Marshal Ray Head became the only Chico firefighter who died of injuries sustained in fighting a fire. A plaque halfway down the block on Broadway honors him.

I like how the bank building has become encased in wisteria.

Head east on Third and you’ll reach the Nottelman building. Proposals in the late 1970s to tear it down rallied preservationists and led to the formation of the Chico Heritage Association. The building isn’t especially architecturally distinguished, but it’s one of the few older buildings left on the block.

At the southwest corner of Main and Third is the home of KCVU Fox 30 television. It has to be one of downtown’s bleakest buildings — despite the mansard roofline. This is the site of the Chico Hotel.

Head south on Main Street, a cheerless stretch because of the television station building. At the northwest corner of Fourth and Main is the site of the Park Hotel, a social gathering place for three generations of Chicoans. Built in 1888, it was torn down in 1963. It’s one of those landmarks that longtime Chicoans still miss. But in another generation, there will be no one left who remembers it.

Join me next time to complete this walk around the block.

Posted by Steve Brown at 02:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

My son Todd turned 21 yesterday. This has nothing to do with Chico, so Indulge me for a moment while I beam with pride and joy.

Until about a week ago, it had not occurred to me how numerologically lucky it would be turn 21 yesterday. Then I read about people who had picked 7-7-07 as an auspicious time to get married. For the same reasons, you couldn't ask for a better date to be launched into a adulthood.

I've written about Todd all his life, so I couldn't let this milestone go by. I have loved him fiercely from the moment I first laid eyes on him in the early evening hours of 7-7-86.

Before he could understand what I was saying, I would tell him "Todd, you're my best boy." From the time he could talk, he would reply, "I'm your only boy."

True, he was our only boy and our only child, but I've told him many times that if he'd had siblings he would still be our best boy. That's just how it is.

The next milestone I'll probably write about is when he graduates from Chico State University. He tells me this could happen surprisingly soon — possibly in a year, or in three semesters at the most. I suppose you could say this is the Chico connection for this blog entry. I read somewhere that 5.4 years is the average time it takes a Chico State student to graduate, so Todd will beat this number by at least a year.

Twenty-one years isn't a long interval, but it was enough time enough for an infant who was no longer than my forearm to grow to be 6 feet tall. It was enough time for our best boy to become a man.

Posted by Steve Brown at 07:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Chico is the third intentional community I’ve lived in.

My first newspaper job was in Whittier, in Southern California. It was founded as a Quaker settlement. Richard Nixon, who came from a Quaker family, was its most famous (and most notorious) citizen.

Whitter College, which illustrates this blog entry, was just across the street from the apartment where my wife and I lived when we were first married. It was founded by Quakers. The old part of Whittier, known as Uptown, had the same settled small-town feel as Chico.

A decade later, to take another newspaper job, I moved to Lompoc, on the Central Coast. It was founded as a temperance community, an idea I’m sure the Bidwells would have loved.

Lompoc, unfortunately, had lost its settled, small-town appearance 25 years before I ever saw it. In 1958, it started a new career as a bedroom community for Vandenberg Air Force Base, which was built about 5 miles to the wes of the town. In less than 10 years, its population increased from 5,000 to 25,000. The small town had turned into a Southern California clone. I guess you could say this was the second phase of its evolution as an intentional community.

Chico was founded for the usual reasons — economic development. But I also consider it to be an intentional community because it’s so much the product of one man’s vision.

John Bidwell started Chico because he needed workers and consumers to help his enterprises grow. But that explanation always sounds too cynical to do Bidwell justice. Chico’s founder was also a public- spirited person. He was a community builder. He wanted to turn this wilderness into an outpost of civilization. He donated land for public buildings and churches. He helped persuade the state to build the northern branch of its Normal School here. He planted trees throughout his new town.

Bidwell made his mark on the entire state, so it’s not surprising that he had a hand in fashioning the city’s identity. Yet he wasn’t too heavy-handed. Had he been more of an egotist, we’d be living in a place called Bidwellville, not Chico.

Posted by Steve Brown at 11:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

In my E-R column “But this is Chico,” I’m running a series of recollections about the Bidwell Mansion back in the days when Chico State University owned it.

What do you do with a 12,000-square-foot house after the owners have died and decided not to let their heirs have it? Annie Bidwell wanted her house used as a school operated by the Presbyterian church, but when that didn’t work out, the house was in need of another occupant.

When Bidwell died in 1918, the house was only 50 years old, so it’s not surprising nobody back then thought of turning it into a museum. Think of how we feel about buildings that were put up in 1957. We’re more likely to want them tear down than keep them around.

The idea seems weird nowadays, but for most of the 20th century a lot of people thought Victorian houses were monstrosities. But Chicoans had too much respect for the Bidwells to let their feelings about architecture decide the mansion’s fate.

So it was put to practical use. John Bidwell was instrumental in persuading the state to establish its second teacher training school in Chico. He donated his cherry orchard so that it could be built. So there’s a strong historical link between the college and the Bidwells.

By 1964, as the mansion approached the century mark, the community apparently felt it had attained sufficient age to revere it as a relict of the past. As soon as the state park system acquired it, the clock began to turn back. Each year the mansion began to look more like its former self.

Gone were the faculty members, staff and students, who had used it not only for a dormitory, classrooms and offices, but for formal dinners, coffee klatches, fashion shows, club meetings, card games and parties.

But that doesn’t mean it became a less hospitable place. Today, in its incarnation as a museum, about 30,000 people a year visit the mansion. This includes busloads of fourth-graders from schools throughout Northern California. It’s still used for social events. Three years ago, I was in a fashion show fundraiser for the mansion. I paraded through the parlor and dining room dressed as the King of Denmark.

In the Bidwells’ time, the house was often full of people. Half of the rooms in the house are bedrooms. There were times when the Bidwells had so many guests that all the rooms were full. First the college and then the state park system made sure the sound of footsteps and voices never stopped echoing through the mansion’s 26 rooms.

Posted by Steve Brown at 11:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

A quarterly magazine called Edible Shasta-Butte has started up. I’ve been looking through its first issue.
Its mission is to change the way America eats, “community by community.” Its the newest addition to a “family” of about 20 magazines Edible Community Publications publishes throughout the country in such places as San Francisco, Phoenix, Portland, Santa Fe and Memphis to celebrate “the abundance of local foods, season by season.”

The first issue has stories about Maisie Jane’s California Sunshine Products in Chico, Chaffin Family Orchards near Oroville and Big Bluff Ranch outside Red Bluff. It has a calendar listing of “edible events” in the region, a directory of farmers markets and a couple of recipes from Craig Thomas and Maria Venturino, who own the Red Tavern.

When I did the food pages at the E-R, I enjoyed writing about these kinds of specialty food growers and producers. It seemed every time I turned around a new one popped up.

It’s intriguing these businesses are turning up in a nation of corporate farming, mass-produced food and a distribution and storage system that make it possible to get food from anywhere at any time of the year. Isn’t that the perfect system?

The insistence on seasonal, regionally grown foods isn’t a problem here. We have a long growing season and a climate and soil conditions that allow just about anything to grow here. But I don’t think places like Maine and Utah are so lucky. I’ll bet farmers markets in those places don’t have a a quarter of the produce we have in the Sacramento Valley.

Local and seasonal doesn’t sound like such a big treat in a lot of places. That’s why I’m doubtful the current system will ever fundamentally change although the businesses appealing to niche markets will continue to proliferate. I’ve heard that rising fuel costs may start to make regional food systems more appealing, but I think the more likely outcome is that we’ll turn to cheaper fuels.

Posted by Steve Brown at 10:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)