Tapping Local History

by Catherine Karp

Editor's note--Historical fiction author Catherine Karp cautions us not to turn up our noses at the wealth of subject matter that lies close to home.

    My sincerest apologies to San Diego.

    When I first set out to write a historical fiction novel back in November 1994, just three months after moving to San Diego from Orange County, I didn't even consider setting the book in this vast and multifaceted city. Granted, the story seemed better suited for an east-coast locale, but I never once contemplated using San Diego. Maybe it's because the sprawling modern malls and cookie-cutter stucco houses surrounding me all my life have hindered my vision of Southern California's intriguing past. Or maybe it's because I've never read a novel--historical fiction or otherwise--set in this region, having spent most of my time drooling over British literature and the works of New England and Southern authors. But how foolish of me. How inconsiderate to have ignored a city bulging with history and beckoning to be chronicled in literature.

    So, I've set my novel-in-progress in 1918 San Diego.

    1918 San Diego? What? Why? Was anyone even living here then? Didn't the city rise up after WWII? Or after the fifties? What in the world were people doing in a nowhere town like sleepy San Diego in such a long-ago, forgotten year?

    Well, for the benefit of those unfamiliar with that particular era, the Great War (otherwise known as WWI) raged across the Atlantic, and San Diego's military life flourished during the turbulent years of combat. Moreover, in the fall of 1918, the city's public buildings (theaters, schools, churches, etc.) were shut down during a deadly outbreak of influenza that attacked the world more viciously than the Bubonic Plague, and San Diegans were mandated to bury their mouths and noses in gauze masks to hinder the germs. I won't divulge any more outstanding details of 1918--I want to save that for my novel. But the point is, yes, people were living in San Diego even well before the twentieth century, and a rich, diverse treasure chest of history can be found at every corner of the county.

    In its youth, San Diego may have been a small town, worlds away from cultural hubs like New York City and even San Francisco, but evidence of its fascinating residents abounds. After coming from Orange County, where the Mission San Juan Capistrano was one of the few remaining signs of California's pre-1960s history, I dove headfirst into the tangible symbols of San Diego's past:

    Old Town San Diego, the original heart of the city and a reminder of the town's Spanish heritage (plus it boasts the Whaley House, one of two California homes certified as haunted by the U.S. Department of Commerce).

    The Eagle-High Peak Mine up in Julian, where visitors can walk deep into the earth and envision California's gold-rush days.

    The Hotel del Coronado, a fairy-tale of a building upon the Pacific that has hosted presidents, royalty, and movie stars since the 1880s--and it inspired L. Frank Baum's writings of Oz.

    Balboa Park, a grand tribute to Spanish Colonial architecture, originally built for the popular Panama-California Exhibition of 1915.

    The Gaslamp Quarter, a bustling array of shops and restaurants that occupy the city's former red-light district (once known as the Stingaree District).

    I've picked up books on the city's secret historic sites, taken tours of local historic homes, and even joined both San Diego and Coronado's historical societies. The past can be seen, tasted, and touched all over the county. Whether you're climbing the winding, claustrophobia-inducing staircase of the Point Loma Lighthouse or savoring authentic Mexican cuisine at one of the many local restaurants, the ghosts of days gone by surround us here. And they have amazing stories to tell.

    Having spoken to residents who've lived in the county all their lives, I know that many San Diegans have never even heard of some of the beguiling characters that formerly inhabited the region. Here is a small sampling of the enthralling and often quirky dwellers of San Diego's past, all of whom would be fascinating subjects for historical novels.

    Yankee Jim Robinson, a vigilante hung in 1852 on the future site of the aforementioned Whaley House--and reportedly one of the aforementioned Whaley ghosts.

    Jesse F. Shepherd, the European-born owner of the still-standing Villa Montezuma mansion, who awed 1880s San Diego as a musician, writer, and spirit medium.

    Ida Bailey, a San Diego Madam infamous for her first-class brothel known as Canary Cottage, closed down during a 1912 raid of the Stingaree District.

    Charles Hatfield, a swindler called "The Rainmaker," who was offered $10,000 in San Diego city money to produce rain during a 1915 drought.

    Yes, I tend to be bewitched by San Diego's more colorful, controversial figures, but, remember, I'm a historical fiction novelist, not a biographer. I thrive on peculiar moments in history. There are of course, hundreds of other San Diegans who have made a tremendous impact upon the town--new-town founder Alonzo Horton, architect Irving Gill, and horticulturist Kate Sessions, to name but a few. And every single one of them proves that a town doesn't have to be as populated as a bustling east-coast city or as culturally sophisticated as Europe to possess history and legends worth remembering and cherishing.

    Why would anyone write a historical fiction novel set in San Diego's past, you may ask? My reply: why would any novelist be crazy enough to pass up the hundreds of tales this county has to offer? How can anyone possibly have writer's block when every pocket of the city hides some link to the San Diego of yesteryear?

    When I traveled through New England on a vacation in 1997, I was stunned by the plethora of historical buildings, many of which date back to the eighteenth century. My husband and I drove through a Salem neighborhood, and every single house bore a sign stating when the home was built, who the original owner was, and what that owner did for a living. Every few yards down one Massachusetts highway, we'd see a placard explaining what Revolutionary War incident occurred on that site.

    California's history is often quieter and much newer. Our land was peopled by Native Americans and Spanish rancheros long before easterners migrated west to a land of gold and sunshine. Remnants of history aren't crammed elbow to elbow the way they are further east and in other parts of the world. Most of our neighborhoods aren't adorned with signs describing the original owners of the houses, especially since most of the original owners still dwell inside those walls. 1998, Jim Smith, Computer Analyst. It's not quite the same as 1765, John Weatherby, sea captain, is it now?

    But the stories are there. The landmarks abound if you know where to find them. San Diego's past begs to be explored and enjoyed.

    And I will no longer ignore this captivating region .

Sources:

1. Crawford, Richard W., Stranger Than Fiction: Vignettes of San Diego History. San Diego: The San Diego Historical Society, 1995.
2. MacPhail, Elizabeth C., The Story of New San Diego and of Its Founder Alonzo E. Horton. San Diego: The San Diego Historical Society, 1979.
3. The San Diego Historical Society's Online Archives, http://www.sandiegohistory.org.
4. White, Gail, Haunted San Diego. San Diego: Tecolote Publications, 1992.

Tapping Local History ©February 2002 by Catherine Karp

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Catherine Karp's upcoming novel, Voices Airy, is set in WWI-era San Diego. Voices Airy and a re-release of her first novel, Gilded, will be available soon from Coachlight Press. Catherine is the Webmistress of HistoryandLovers.com, a site promoting romantic historical fiction.

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