Browse Category: Nature

The History of the Morris Arboretum

I’ve been visiting the Morris Arboretum & Gardens in the bucolic Chestnut Hill neighborhood of Philadelphia pretty often, having bought an annual membership. Not only is is a beautiful and historic arboretum, but the brother and sister who founded it, John Thompson Morris (1847-1915) and Lydia Thompson Morris (1849-1932), were first cousins to my great great grandfather, James Wilson Morris, so I have a family connection. The Morris Arboretum is also the official arboretum of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania.

My great great grandfather, James Morris, 1888
Lydia Morris on the porch of Compton (the Morris’ home)
with dog, around 1890. Photo courtesy of the Morris Arboretum archives.
John Morris, around 1880. Photo courtesy of the Morris Arboretum archives.

The Morris Arboretum & Gardens began as Compton, the private estate of the siblings. John and Lydia had purchased farmland in the Chestnut Hill area of Philadelphia in 1887 and began planning a garden that would combine art and science and preserve various trees, flowers, and other flora.

Compton in the 1930s. Photo courtesy of the Morris Arboretum archives.

The land was initially barren, with many steep slopes. From the beginning, John and Lydia shared a vision for Compton to become a public garden and educational institution one day. Over time, the siblings bought adjacent parcels, including the farm across the street, improved the land, and planted collections of exotic and native trees and shrubs from across the temperate world. They also had walls and other features built and added statuary. They traveled a lot and often were inspired by gardens they visited. John was interested in growing plants from China, including those collected by British plant collector E. H. Wilson around 1900, and many of the plants currently in the arboretum date to Morris’ original plantings. 

John Morris in Flower Walk Trellis, late 1880s. Photo courtesy of the Morris Arboretum archives.
John and Lydia Morris by the Love Temple on Swan Pond, 1908.
Photo courtesy of the Morris Arboretum archives.
Swan Pond with Love Temple, 2023. Photo by Blair Davis.

In addition to all the plants, John added some outbuildings and several distinctive structures to the grounds, including the fernery (now the only remaining freestanding Victorian fernery in North America), a log cabin built as a private retreat for Lydia, and the Mercury Loggia, constructed in 1913 to commemorate the Morrises’ 25th anniversary at Compton. There was also an old springhouse that was there when John and Lydia had purchased the property.

Log Cabin, 1911. Photo courtesy of the Morris Arboretum archives.
The Log Cabin in 2023. Photo by Blair Davis.
Workmen laying rocks in Ravine Garden with the Loggia in the background, 1913.
Photo courtesy of the Morris Arboretum archives.
The Mercury Loggia in 2023. Photo by Blair Davis.
Inside the fernery, 2023. Photo by Blair Davis.

John died in 1915, leaving the estate in trust to Lydia. The plan was for Compton to eventually become a botanical garden and school for horticulturists. Lydia continued to cultivate the grounds until her death in 1932, when she bequeathed the property to the University of Pennsylvania. From then on, it was known as the Morris Arboretum of the University of Pennsylvania. The Compton house was used as a research center for many years, but after it began to deteriorate, it was demolished in 1968.

The Morris contains more than 11,000 labeled plants from temperate regions of North America, Asia, and Europe, with a primary focus on Asia. The Morris has identified 17 trees in its collection as outstanding specimens, including a massive katsura tree and a grove of redwoods. Newer additions include a miniature railroad and the Tree Adventure exhibit, which includes the Tree Canopy Walk, a giant bird nest, and a net platform. In 2023, the arboretum changed its name to the Morris Arboretum & Gardens to honor its renewed focus on colorful flower gardens as well as trees. If you haven’t visited, you should!

My parents with a statue of Lydia Morris, 1990.
Me with statues of Lydia and John Morris, 2021.
John Tonkin (head gardener from 1913-1975), with his daughter, Margaret Tonkin Medlar, and wife, Margaret Williams Tonkin, by the Love Temple, 1919. Photo courtesy of the Morris Arboretum archives.
Swan seen through Love Temple, 2023.
Photo by Blair Davis.

The Psychology of Spring

Spring is here. This is the first full East Coast spring I have experienced since I moved from Pennsylvania to California in 2005. As you may know if you know me or have followed by blog, after living in northern and central California for 17 years, I moved back to Pennsylvania in July 2022. It’s been a big adjustment in many ways, some of them difficult, but the spring has brought me a lot of happiness and hope, despite some tough personal and national events. The experience of the transition from winter to spring is something I had forgotten about. In the parts of California where I lived, it felt like perpetual spring–it rarely got below 50 during the day and was rarely above 75. There was often sunshine, and flowers bloomed everywhere. True, there was little rain, but in other ways, it was spring-like much of the time. I never took for granted the mild climate and natural beauty of California, but living there, I did lose touch with how wonderful the change from winter to spring can be.

Now that I am back in Pennsylvania and lived through winter, my least favorite season (although thankfully, it was not a very cold winter this year), I remember how amazing the spring feels. The shift from darker to lighter days, the soft rains, the sudden exuberance of forsythia bushes and daffodils and cherry blossoms, the golden-green haze of leaves starting to sprout on the trees–it’s so magical.

As a psychologist, I often work with people who get depressed in the winter. Even in California, the land of perpetual spring, a lot of the clients I treated would start to get more down when the time changed in fall and begin to feel better come March or April. There, it was mainly the daylight that played a role. But here, it’s not just the longer days that can give us a mood boost, it’s also the warmer weather and emergence of flowers and tree buds. I would not say I get depressed in winter, but I definitely feel lower, less energetic, and at times a little stir-crazy when it’s too dark or cold to enjoy the outdoors. Spring brings more comfort and safety to being outside after work hours. It allows for more enjoyment of getting out and about, being more active. The switch from the browns and grays of winter to the brighter colors of the season stimulates the eyes and the emotions.

Spring is a season of rebirth (especially here in the northeast and other places with four distinct seasons), with the plants coming back to life after the dormancy and death of winter. Many animals give birth. People begin planting flower gardens and getting ready to plant vegetables that will grow throughout the spring and summer. Throughout written history, humans have seen this time of year as one that brings feelings of hope. Christians observe Easter as the celebration of new life and resurrection. Jews celebrate Passover, which acknowledges liberation from oppression. Muslims participate in Ramadan, which calls for self-reflection and sacrifice, then Eid al-Fitr, which celebrates gratitude and blessings. There is an element of starting anew in all of these religious holidays.

It’s harder to feel hopeful at the moment with many of the things happening in the United States and the world. It’s painful to see more and more gun violence, more crime, and the erosion of rights for LGBTQ people. It’s difficult to be mired in this era of division and polarization. The past month has also brought some losses to me, friends and family, and therapy clients. But seeing the renewal of spring reminds me that change can happen, growth can happen, and life does go on.

Spring makes it easier for me to engage in one of my favorite self-care activities: walking and hiking in nature. I plan to make the most of the mild days and sunshine, as well as my boost in energy and mood. It’s easier to face the pain and challenges of life when the sun is out and the flowers are blooming.

Things I Love About San Francisco

Mosaic stairs at 16th Avenue, with view of the Sunset District, San Francisco, and the Pacific Ocean, October 2019

Today, my thoughts are on the beautiful San Francisco Bay Area, where I have been living since August 2019, after living in Humboldt County from 2010 to 2012 and in Santa Cruz from 2012 to 2019. Unfortunately, I moved to San Francisco less than a year before the COVID pandemic hit, so I haven’t been able to enjoy it as much as I would have otherwise. But, even so, there are so many things to love and appreciate about this gorgeous and unique place, and as Thanksgiving is just around the corner, I am trying to cultivate thought of gratitude for the good things.

I lived in the Bay Area previously, from 2005 to 2010. I had moved to Oakland from Philadelphia to start graduate school when I was in my mid-30s and full of hopes and dreams. Some of those dreams came true, and some did not. But after a period of adjustment to the many ways the Bay Area is different from the East Coast, I came to love my new home city.

It’s been interesting to be back in the Bay Area after I had been away for 9 years and living in SF instead of my more familiar stomping grounds in Oakland. San Francisco is a lot different than Oakland, even though they are only about 10 miles apart. It’s hard to sum up all the differences, but a few include that Oakland is more spread out, with many neighborhoods, some with a suburban feel, connected by freeways, and San Francisco is more dense; Oakland is more racially and ethnically diverse than SF (although SF is also very diverse); Oakland has about half the population of SF; Oakland is warmer and sunnier (especially in the summer); Oakland is slightly less crazy expensive than SF (although, both are not cheap!); and SF has more widely known tourist attractions and sights.

I miss living in Oakland! But I have come to love San Francisco for its beautiful beaches and parks, all the amazing views from the many hills, the culture, the history, and the relative ease of getting around by transit or Lyft compared with Oakland.

View of the Golden Gate Bridge from the Legion of Honor, October 2019.

So, a few things I love …

  • The light–there is something about the way the sky lights up when the sun is out that is unlike the light any place else I have been.
  • The museums: The San Francisco Museum of Modern Art and the DeYoung Museum are my favorites, but there are many others.
  • The hidden staircases all over the city. It’s a city of hills, so the fact that there are lot of staircases makes sense. And some of them have been decorated with gorgeous mosaic tiles!
  • The murals and street art. There is so much cool art everywhere! And so many public art programs! A few are the Bay Area Mural Project, the Clarion Alley Mural Project, the San Francisco Arts Commission, the San Francisco Giants’ Resilient SF Mural Project, Balmy Alley, and Paint the Void.
  • The Pacific Ocean and Ocean Beach. I love the ocean! I love the beach! However, I didn’t realize how much I love these things when I lived on the East Coast. Even though there are many beautiful East Coast beaches, those beaches don’t have the mild Bay Area weather that makes it pleasant to walk on the beach most of the year without being hot and sticky or freezing.
  • The plethora of fabulous Asian food. The Bay Area, home to many Asian Americans and Asian immigrants, has hundreds of restaurants serving delicious Thai, Chinese, Japanese, Malaysian, Vietnamese, Korean, Burmese, and Indian food (and probably other cuisines I have forgotten). I could probably eat dim sum every day without getting tired of it!
  • The politics. I am a liberal, and San Francisco is one of the most liberal cities in the United States. The politics here and their impact are not perfect, but I do value the liberal beliefs and attitudes of SF.
  • Being able to get to a gorgeous park, forest, beach, or trail within minutes.
  • The Mediterranean climate. I don’t love the summer fog along the coast, but I will take that when we also get warm and sunny falls, winters, and springs.
  • The creativity. From art to tech to food to fashion to dance, the Bay Area has a lot of creative types. True, many of the artists have been priced out due to the super high rents and insanely high prices to buy property, but there is still a wealth of creative thinkers here.

There is a lot more, but this list sums up some of my favorite things. I may not be here forever, so I will reflect on all that I love and enjoy it while I can. Life is short.

Ocean Beach dunes, March 2020.
The Legion of Honor museum, October, 2019.
Windmill in Golden Gate Park, March 2020.
In front of a Warhol painting at the SF MoMa, September 2019.

San Francisco’s Ocean Beach History: The 1930s to 1950s

People on Ocean Beach in front of Playland, 1930s. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp70.0936.

Earlier in January, I wrote a post on the early history of San Francisco’s Ocean Beach. I found so many amazing photos and so much interesting history that my post ran too long, so I ended it with the early 1930s. I realized that to share more of the pictures and info I discovered, I would need to do several posts. So, today, we look at the 1930s to the 1950s.

Playland and Nearby Attractions
In the 1930s, people continued to flock to the beach and Playland-at-the-Beach from around San Francisco, other parts of the Bay Area, and beyond, despite the hard times of the Great Depression. In fact, Playland continued to expand in the ’20s and ’30s.

Playland Midway in the 1930s. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp4.0947.
Cars on the Great Highway by Playland in the late 1930s.
Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp32.0165.
Looking south at Playland and the streetcar terminal, 1937. Golden Gate Park and the Dutch windmill are in the background at left. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp4.0942.
Women (models?) on Ocean Beach in the late 1930s,
with the Cliff House in the background. Photo from SF Public Library.
Women frolicking on the beach, 1930s. Photo from SF Public Library.
Family picnic on Ocean Beach, 1930s.
Photo from SF Public Library.

George and Leo Whitney, the owners of Playland, had opened Topsy’s Roost in the former Ocean Beach Pavilion building in 1929. This restaurant and nightclub boasted live orchestras and even had slides for patrons to ride down onto the dance floor from the balcony! Unfortunately (but not surprisingly, given the era), Topsy’s decor and advertising included racist stereotypes of Black people. I’ll spare you by not including any photos here. The Whitneys also took over the Cliff House from the Sutro family in 1936.

View of Ocean Beach and Playland from Sutro Heights, 1930s.

In the 1930s, Sutro Baths struggled due to the Depression and changes in public health codes. As the baths became less popular, part of the complex was converted into a skating rink. Swimming continued, but the pools were no longer the gigantic attraction they had been in the late 1800s and early 1900s, when thousands would swim on many days.

Sutro skating rink, 1940s. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp37.02156wnp37.02156.
Sutro Baths streetcar depot and exterior of Sutro Baths, 1940s.
Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp14.1472.
Young woman on the beach by Playland, 1940s. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp14.4785.

Early Surfing
The late ’30s and ’40s saw some brave people getting into surfing at Ocean Beach. The northern end of the beach near Playland was dubbed “Kelly’s Cove” and was a popular surf spot. According to an article in Surfline, the roots of surfing at Ocean Beach were planted when a handful of lifeguards from Fleishhacker Swimming Pool at Sloat Boulevard and the Great Highway were inspired by their Hawaiian colleagues, Cliff Kamaka and Eddie Eukini, to start bodysurfing and mat surfing. Apparently, surfboards were not used as much at first because most couldn’t withstand Ocean Beach’s harsh shore break and would end up damaged.

Fleishhacker Pool lifeguards, including early surfers Charlie Grimm (far left), Cliff Kamaka (center), and Eddie Eukini (far right). Photo by Anita Kamaka.
Surfers pose at Fort Kelly’s Cove, 1943. Photo from Western Neighborhoods Project.

The ’40s and ’50s
Ocean Beach and Playland continued to be popular in the World War II era and the early 1950s. Playland offered service people and their friends a cheap and relatively respectable place to have a good time and was open from noon to midnight.

An Ocean Beach picnic in the 1940s. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp26.1274.
View from the Cliff House to Playland, 1940s. Golden Gate Park is in the background.
Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp25.3024.
Kids on Ocean Beach by Playland, 1940s. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp27.2047.
Three images from the 1940s. Left, women lounging on Ocean Beach; photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp26.1267. Center, Bathing Beauties at Playland; photo from SF Public Library.
Right, young women by a beach bonfire; photo from SF Chronicle.
Sailors and women, 1945. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp28.1474.
1940s or 1950s, two women on Ocean Beach. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp27.6461.
Ocean Beach in the 1940s. Left, child with dog and woman; photo from SF Public Library.
Right, teens relaxing on the beach; photo from SF Chronicle.
View south of Ocean Beach from Sutro Heights Park. On the left, the view from the patio, with statues, in the 1940s; photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp4.0144. Right, same view from the road just below the patio, January 2021; photo by Blair J. Davis.

As I said in my prior post, a makeshift development of retired streetcars, Carville, had popped up along Ocean Beach in the late 1800s. Mainly occupied by poor and working-class residents and Bohemians, it was mostly gone by the 1920s; as property values went up, the city forced the residents out and got rid of most of the streetcar structures. By the ’30s and ’40s, just a few remained, and others became unrecognizable as additions built on covered up the inner streetcar structure.

Woman shows interior of streetcar house near Ocean Beach in 1947; the former “Carville” once occupied the Outer Sunset near what became Playland.
Photo from SF Public Library.
1948 aerial view of Ocean Beach and Playland, looking north to Sutro Heights.
Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp4.0940.
Women on the beach in the 1940s, with the Cliff House in the background.
Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp70.1116.

Surfing gained more popularity through the ’40s, ’50s, and ’60s, and actual surfboards became the norm, although many got destroyed in the rough waters. Famous surfboard and wetsuit maker Jack O’Neill opened his first shop in the early to mid-1950’s near the Great Highway.

Surfing photos from the 1950s. Left, three men with a board; photo from Western Neighborhoods Project. Center, surfers and friends at Kelly’s Cove; photo from Carol Schuldt. Right, surfing before wetsuits were popular.

Sutro Baths continued to operate in the ’40s and ’50s but never regained its former acclaim. George Whitney bought Sutro Baths in 1952. A Sky Tram was built in the ’50s that took visitors across the Baths basin from Point Lobos to the outer balcony of the Cliff House. There also was an artificial waterfall.

Left, Sutro Baths exterior and view of ocean, 1952. Center, Sutro Baths entrance. Fun for the Day event at Sutro Baths, 1953. All photos from SF Chronicle.
Left, children swimming at Sutro Baths, 1953; photo from SF Chronicle. Right, Sutro Baths Sky Tram in the mid-50s or early ’60s; photo by Ed Bierman.

Playland’s Big Dipper was torn down over safety code concerns and maintenance issues in 1955. Playland owner George Whitney died in 1958, and the park gradually became faded and dingy as families in the city chose suburban destinations for recreation. People continued to trek out to Ocean Beach and the surfing culture grew, but many of the local attractions were becoming less popular and were not kept up in the same way.

Fun on Ocean Beach in the 1950s. Left, a woman in underwear, stockings, and fancy hat; photo from UC Santa Cruz. Right, women frolicking in the surf; photo from UC Santa Cruz.
Left, Vietnamese Delegation of Peace Conference eating on the Ocean Beach seawall, 1951; photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp12.0122. Center, people enjoying the beach, 1952; photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp27.2061. Right, parents and child on a cold day by the Ocean Beach seawall, 1955; photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp28.3045.
Sutro Heights stone patio in the 1950s (at left) and in 2019 (center) and 2021 (right). Left photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp4.0147. Center and right photos by Blair J. Davis.
Toddler on Ocean Beach, with Cliff House in background; photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp12.0108. Family bonfire on the beach; photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp12.0112. Both photos from 1957.
Fisherman trespassing on Lurline Pier, 1958. Lurline Pier protected the intake pipe for the downtown Lurline Baths, which operated from 1894 to 1936. It was removed in the 1960s. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp28.3628.
Lincoln Street storm drain on Ocean Beach in 1958 (left) and 2020 (right). It’s now covered with colorful graffiti. Left photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp25.6451. Right photo by Blair J. Davis.
People digging for treasure on Ocean Beach during the Emperor Norton Treasure Hunt. Photo, 1959, by SF Chronicle.
High tide at Ocean Beach, with view of the Lurline Pier, 1959. The seawall used to have bleacher-like steps, which are now buried in sand.
Photo from SF Public Library.

Enjoying this trip into the past? Check out my next Ocean Beach history post, which looks at the 1960s through 1980s.

San Francisco’s Ocean Beach: The Early History

Sunset at Ocean Beach, April 2020. Photo by Blair J. Davis.

One of the things I love about where I live is the proximity to San Francisco’s Ocean Beach, which is at the western edge of the city and is part of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. Although it’s an urban beach (and thus not always the cleanest), it’s wide and has gorgeous views of the Marin Headlands to the north and the Pacifica bluffs to the south. There are also a couple cool bird sculptures, and there is a vibrant array of graffiti on the beach seawall.

Due to its geography, the beach has a constant set of waves crashing on the shore, which results in a steady hum, not unlike traffic or TV static. It’s often windy, and the water is quite cold and dangerous, with a strong undertow. Even so, it’s a popular beach for surfers, walkers, kids, joggers, and people walking their dogs. On a sunny day, it’s a lovely place to stroll or sit. Even on cool and/or foggy days, it’s a great place to walk, if you don’t mind the chill.

Ocean Beach has a varied and interesting history. And, if you’ve read any of my other historical blog posts, you know I love to include old photos, so get ready for a bunch of them here (I mean A BUNCH)!

Early History

The San Francisco peninsula was occupied by the Ramaytush Ohlone people. The Yelamu group was a subset of Ramaytush Ohlone who lived in what is now San Francisco. There were probably just 150 to 300 of them in the 1770s. According to anthropologists, the Yelamu and other Ohlone groups arrived in the area between 4000 and 6000 years ago. While one of the Yelamu villages may have spent part of the year in what is now Land’s End (just north of Ocean Beach), it’s unclear if any lived around what is now Ocean Beach.

Watercolor by Louis Choris of two Ohlone men living near Mission Dolores in what is now San Francisco.

The arrival of Spanish explorers and missionaries in the late 1700s threatened the Ohlones’ existence and culture as a result of forced cultural and religious assimilation, exposure to European diseases, and harsh and unsanitary living conditions. Prior to the arrival of the Spanish, there were about 1500 Ramaytush Ohlone across the Bay Area, but by the end the Mission Period, only a few families had survived. Tragically, after the Mexican-American war, when California became part of the Union in 1850, the state government sanctioned the mass genocide of Indigenous people by local militia, further decimating the population. 

Early European Settler History

Due in part to its sometimes inhospitable weather (high winds, cold weather, and fog), San Francisco’s western lands, later called the “Outside Lands,” were largely undeveloped by white settlers and Gold Rush “’49ers” in the late 1700s and early 1800s. The area was mostly sand dunes, with a few houses scattered here and there, and a few roads. Local beachgoers and hunters would take day trips to the beach and to the area now known as Land’s End (just north of Ocean Beach) on horseback or by carriage.

The Mid to Late 1800s

The Ocean Beach area gradually drew more visitors as San Francisco grew. Senator John Buckley and C. C. Butler built the first Cliff House restaurant in 1863, just north of Ocean Beach on the cliffs overlooking the Pacific. (There were rumors of an earlier building on that site, but there is no official record, and there are no photos of one.) In 1864, the privately built Point Lobos toll road (which later became Geary Street) made it easier to get to Ocean Beach and the Cliff House, which became very popular. However, by the early 1880s, the Cliff House was not doing as well and was bought by local silver baron Adolph Sutro. Sutro was responsible for many of the area’s attractions, as I’ll describe later.

Woman with parasol on Ocean Beach with original Cliff House in the background, 1885. OpenSFHistory/wnp70.0008.jpg.

In addition to the area’s natural beauty and attractions like restaurants, occasional unexpected events also drew crowds. For example, there were several shipwrecks off Ocean Beach, and locals and tourists alike came to gawk. One early wreck was in January 1878, when the King Philip, a three-masted clipper ship, drifted onto Ocean Beach and was destroyed. The Atlantic had a similar fate in 1886 and the Beebe in 1894. The Neptune met its end on Ocean Beach in 1900, the same year the Olga grounded but was able to be set free by tugboats. There were other shipwrecks as well.

The Atlantic shipwreck off Ocean Beach, 1886. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp37.04132.
The first Cliff House restaurant, built in 1863, seen here from the Sutro Estate in the 1880s. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp27.4997.
Women in carriage on Ocean Beach, around 1880. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp37.01652.
Woman and kids on Ocean Beach, with a surprising number of billboards behind them, just below Sutro Heights, around 1890. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp26.1409.

The construction of Golden Gate Park, just east of Ocean Beach, and a steam train line to the area in the late 1800s brought more visitors and development. In the 1880s, Ocean Beach boasted a gravity-powered roller coaster and a pavilion for concerts and dancing. Sutro built a large estate overlooking the Cliff House in the 1880s, with grounds he later made into a public park. He also began work on the Sutro Baths, which opened in 1896, and the Merrie Way Pleasure Grounds, which had a Firth Wheel (similar to a Ferris Wheel), mirror maze, and other attractions. By 1890, there was trolley service to the region, allowing easier access from other parts of the city and spurring the development of a “trolley park,” a picnic and recreation area at the end of the line.

Sutro Baths, 1889, with Firth Wheel in background. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp4.0264.
Ocean Beach Pavillion, 1899. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp130.00003.

In December 1883, the area near the trolley park that would later become the Chutes at the Beach amusement park (later named Playland), saw a short-lived squatter’s settlement sprout up. It consisted of shanties, tents, and lean-tos, and its residents sold coffee, donuts, pie, and liquor to tourists as a way to make money. The San Francisco Park Commission, which had jurisdiction over the beach, asked the squatters, led by Connor “Con” Mooney and anti-capitalist (and anti-immigrant) activist Dennis Kearney, to leave. The residents of “Mooneysville-by-the-Sea” refused, but by the end of January 1884, a band of park employees and police were able to get the shantytown residents to vacate and dismantle their makeshift structures.

Mooneysville, near the Cliff House, 1883. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp4.

Another unconventional settlement was built near Ocean Beach in the late 1800s: an impromptu development of buildings made from old horse-drawn streetcars that the city sold after cable cars and electric streetcars became the norm. People could buy a retired streetcar for $20 (less if the seats were removed). Some used them for children’s playhouses, offices, and shops, and others, for homes. Sutro (who was then the mayor of San Francisco) owned the largely undeveloped dunes by the north end of Ocean Beach. He rented a lot with a repurposed streetcar to entrepreneur Colonel Charles Dailey and his wife, who opened a coffee shop. The cafe became the nucleus for “Carville,” a colony of former cars. Some people lived in or ran businesses from single cars, and others grouped or stacked two or more cars to form larger structures.

Carville attracted low-income people in search of a cheap place to live, as well as Bohemians. One Carville clubhouse was frequented by writer Jack London, among others. Another club, La Bohème, hosted touring visitors from New York’s Metropolitan Opera. By 1900, the estimated population of Carville was 2000. There was also the Falcons Women’s Bicycling Club, capitalizing on the hot trend of the times: “safety bicycles.”

As the land in the area became more valuable and desirable in the 1910s and ’20s, Carville was dismantled. A few former streetcar structures remain, but most are unrecognizable because they were added on to.

Carville Homes Near Judah Street, 1905. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp4.1666.
Hand-colored postcard of Carville, showing one-story and three-story buildings, 1905. Photo from OpenSFHistory_wnp70.0817.jpg.
View north and east from near Lincoln Avenue toward Golden Gate Park and Ft. Miley, 1905. Carville homes, residences, and commercial buildings and Park & Ocean Railway waiting depot and rustic bridge in foreground. Golden Gate Park’s Murphy Windmill has not yet been built. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp4.1663a.
Falcons women’s bicycle club in Carville, late 1800s-early 1900s. Photo from FoundSF.

Another ship-related disaster occurred in 1887: The Cliff House was badly damaged by the massive off-shore explosion of the schooner Parallel. Although the restaurant was repaired, it was later completely destroyed in a fire on Christmas 1894. In 1896, Sutro built a new Cliff House, an elaborate seven-story Victorian chateau, called by some “the Gingerbread Palace.”

1900 to the 1930s

The good times at the beach continued as the twentieth century began, but so did maritime tragedy: Another shipwreck occurred at Ocean Beach in 1902. This time, a ship called the Reporter, ran aground; the captain and crew were rescued, but locals stole a lot of the ship’s cargo of lumber. Like past shipwrecks, the Reporter‘s wreckage drew large crowds.

Although I could not find any photographic evidence, apparently Ocean Beach, like many parts of San Francisco, housed a refugee camp for locals displaced by the devastating 1906 earthquake and fires. With the exception of that period, the beach was primarily a tourist attraction and getaway for local residents wanting a day of fun by the ocean.

Men and women on the rocks, with Sutro’s elaborate second Cliff House in the background, around 1900. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp37.01092.
Second Cliff House, viewed from Sutro Heights Observatory around 1900. Steamer outbound in the background. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp4.0585.
Children enjoying Ocean Beach around 1900, with Lurline Pier, which covered an intake pipe for pumping saltwater to the old Lurline Baths and Olympic Club pools in downtown San Francisco, in background. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp4.0928.
The “Reporter” runs aground on Ocean Beach near Noriega Street, 1902. Photo from OpenSFHistory / wnp4.0902.
Woman and boy on Ocean Beach, 1903, with Cliff House in background. OpenSFHistory_wnp70.0903.jpg
Woman and children by Lurline Pier, 1905. OpenSFHistory/wnp4.0892.
Three women on the dunes, around 1910. I love how happy they look. OpenSFHistory/wnp14.11164.jpg.

At the beginning of the twentieth century, the Olympic Club, a male-only athletic club, hosted an annual New Year’s Day member run and plunge on Ocean Beach. The noncompetitive, festive event featured the men running through Golden Gate Park from Baker Street, changing into bathing suits, and jumping in the brisk ocean. Afterwards, participants usually headed to the Cliff House or one of the other beachside cafes for lunch and drinks. From what I hear, the tradition continued until this past year, when it could not be officially held due to the COVID pandemic.

The Olympic Club New Year’s swim, 1912, Ocean Beach. Photo from OpenSFHistory_wnp15.1071.

After surviving the 1906 earthquake and subsequent fires, the second Cliff House burned down in September 1907. Dr. Emma Merritt, Sutro’s daughter (he had died in 1898), had the restaurant rebuilt in 1909, in a simpler style.

Well-dressed people on Ocean Beach, around 1915, with the third Cliff House in background. OpenSFHistory/wnp14.10110.
Family picnic, 1919, with men sleeping in the background. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp14.11171.
Woman and kids wading, 1910. Photo from OpenSFHistory_wnp14.11169.

Ocean Beach had a few brushes with fame: John “Black Jack” Johnson was an African American boxer who trained at the Seal Rock Inn at Ocean Beach when he had matches in the Bay Area, between 1901 and 1909. He had become the World Colored Heavyweight Champ in 1903 and later became the first Black boxer to hold the World Heavyweight Boxing title (1908–1915). He encountered racism throughout his life and was considered controversial for being outspoken and for dating and marrying several white women. He was said to have beaten his first wife, who later killed herself. Muhammed Ali called Johnson an inspiration and hero for his bravery in defying the racial inequalities of his time.

Boxer Jack Johnson (third from left) and trainers on Ocean Beach, 1910. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp37.02042.
View of Ocean Beach, with Golden Gate Park windmills, 1912. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp27.7783.
People standing on dead whale, 1919. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp70.1113.

In the 1910s, the trolley park expanded, with private business people opening rides, attractions, and food and drink stands. One water ride called Shoot-the-Chutes inspired the first official name for the amusement area, Chutes at the Beach. In 1926, George Whitney became general manager of the growing complex of seaside attractions and changed the name to Playland-at-the-Beach. By the 1930s, Playland took up 3 blocks. Whitney purchased the land the amusement park sat on, as well as the vacant Cliff House restaurant, which he remodeled to turn into a roadhouse.

1920s, Chutes amusement park, with Cliff House and Sutro’s estate (occupied by daughter, Emma, who was elderly and having trouble maintaining it) in the background. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp66.104.
Boys’ Club Day at Chutes at the Beach, 1922. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp66.132.
“Bathing Beauties” at Chutes, 1925. Unclear if these were the famous silent film “Sennett Bathing Beauties” of Southern California or a local group of women. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp4.0994.
Child on stuffed alligator on Ocean Beach, 1925. Not sure what is going on here! Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp4.0907.
Life Saving Station crew, 1920s, with Lurline Pier in background. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp66.024.
Mounted police on Ocean Beach, 1920s. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp66.121.
Women on Playland roller coaster, 1927. OpenSFHistory/wnp4.0943.jpg.

The 1920s and ’30s saw the construction of the Great Highway (opened in 1929) and an explosion of home building in the Sunset and Richmond districts of the city, bordering Ocean Beach. In 1925, the Beach Chalet opened as a city-run restaurant and included changing rooms for beach visitors. However, the prosperous 1920s gave way to the struggles of the Great Depression. Although the ’30s brought the construction of both the Bay Bridge and Golden Gate Bridge, times were tough across the city, including for the businesses on and around Ocean Beach. Yet, they survived, and locals and tourists continued to enjoy the fun of the area.

I’ll leave you with one of the most surprising photos I found. One might assume it never snows in San Francisco, but you’d be wrong! It is rare, but there have been a few reported snowfalls. One occurred in December 1932. Below, you can see snow on the roofs of businesses at Ocean Beach.

People amazed by snow in San Francisco, at Ocean Beach, 1932. Photo from OpenSFHistory/wnp4.0979.

Signing Off

There is so much more history I could write about, and there are so many more interesting old photos I could share, but I fear this post is already way too long for most readers. I get carried away when I start researching local history. I find it so fascinating and especially love finding historic images.

It’s likely I’ll write a “part 2” with Ocean Beach history from the 1940s onward. Stay tuned!

“Forest Bathing”: A Balm for the Soul

Calla lilies in my garden. Photo by Blair J. Davis.

I’ll admit that I am feeling anxious today. For anyone living in a cave, let me explain. A state of emergency has been declared in the United States due to the COVID-19 (new coronavirus) pandemic. San Francisco, where I live, declared a state of emergency in late February. The San Francisco Bay Area has had a significant number of diagnosed cases, and the suspicion is that the numbers are actually much higher (test kits have not been widely available, so many people who are sick have not been tested). “Social distancing” (avoiding much social contact with others) has been recommended to slow the spread of the virus, with the hope that this could prevent the U.S. from experiencing widespread serious illness as other countries have, particularly Italy.

Today was extra tough for me because I had to make a difficult decision about dropping out of a dance performance that is happening tomorrow–I almost never renege on a commitment, especially at the last minute, but I felt I had to in order to protect my health and adhere to the social distancing guidelines as I understand them. I did what I felt I needed to, but that does not change the fact that it’s been a rough day.

At work, we recently received a training on shinrin-yoku, or “forest bathing.” Shinrin in Japanese means “forest,” and yoku means “bath,” so shinrin-yoku literally means “bathing in the forest atmosphere.” The idea is to immerse yourself in a wooded setting to soak up the physical and emotional benefits it provides. I had read a bit about forest bathing before. In fact, I’d considered trying to get a Forest Therapy Guide certification but decided it was too much time and money for me currently. The Association of Nature & Forest Therapy, located in Sonoma County, is right around the corner from where I live, so should I elect to go through the Guide program in the future, I could easily do so. But that’s beside the point: The point is that I realized that what I needed today was NATURE.

Flowers in Golden Gate Park. Photo by Blair J. Davis.

I’ve long been a nature lover. I’m not a hardcore outdoors person (have only backpacked ONCE in my life and can’t say I’d necessarily do it again), but I definitely am drawn to being outside, walking, hiking, and appreciating the beauty of nature. I find it soothing to be outdoors, whether it’s being active or just sitting reading in a park or taking photos. In fact, I sometimes agonize over whether one of my favorite hobbies, walking and taking photos, defeats the purpose and spirit of forest bathing. (Disclosure: I did walk and take photos today!)

Forest bathing is an exercise in presence and mindfulness. It’s not meant to be a form of exercise or a time for engaging with modern technology (such as cell phones or cameras): It is a practice of simply being in nature, connecting with it through our senses. Research on forest bathing has shown that it’s the nature–not just the walking or being outside–that is healing. People who walk in an urban setting, such as on a residential street, don’t get the same benefit as those who go into a forest or park with lots of green space and trees. Studies show that to reap the most good from the practice, one should engage in it for a total of 2 hours a week or more. The good news for all of us busy people is that you don’t have to walk for 2 hours straight to feel good–the 2 hours can be broken up into smaller chunks throughout the week.

Flowers in Golden Gate Park. Photo by Blair J. Davis.

How does one actually “forest bathe?” It’s very simple. First, find a natural spot, one with trees and greenery. Next, leave your phone and other devices behind. Finally, really BE THERE–use all your senses to experience the sights, sounds, smells, and sensations of nature. Yes, simple, but not always easy for most of us, who are very dependent on having our phones with us at all times, checking messages, “being available,” and taking photos.

As I said, I have conflicted feelings about whether my taking pictures when I’m out in nature hinders or helps my being able to relax and take in the healing effect of forest bathing. Today, I took a long walk through Golden Gate Park and on Ocean Beach in a 2-hour window between rain showers. I can’t say that my mind completely let go of my worries: They came and went throughout my walk. But, that is actually a natural part of a mindfulness practice: Our thoughts never completely go away. We just get better at noticing them, trying to quiet the mind, trying not to judge ourselves, and going back to whatever mindfulness practice we are using.

Today, my forest bathing practice involved deep breathing, soaking in the atmosphere of the park and the beach, feeling the wind on my face, watching the birds and occasional people and dogs I encountered, and talking back to my fears and ruminations with whatever seemed to help at the time. I really don’t feel that the picture-taking took away from the experience, but next time, perhaps I’ll try leaving the camera at home to see how it feels. I can say as I spent more time on my walk, I had an easier time letting my thoughts go and releasing some of the physical tension I’d been feeling earlier.

Nasturtium leaves in Golden Gate Park. Photo by Blair J. Davis.

As a therapist, I know that just letting go of thoughts, suppressing or ignoring fears and emotions, and “getting away” from anxiety is not what it takes to have a healthy mind. In fact, if those are our only tools, we will be out of balance. “Sitting with” our feelings is important. Having emotions is a normal and adaptive part of being human. We need to allow ourselves to feel, and we must actually feel in order to get better at not judging ourselves for our feelings. There are times that we need to process our thoughts and emotions so we better understand ourselves and gain new perspectives. It’s also important to experience our feelings and sit with our fears so that we can accept things as they are rather than live in denial or expend a lot of energy wishing things were different. Also, we need to face our fears–if we simply were to avoid anything that makes us anxious or afraid, it’s likely those triggers would cause even more fear, since we would never build our abilities to overcome and cope with our anxieties. We would also never prove to ourselves that we can face certain fears and get through them.

AND, we need to have some quiet and peace within ourselves. We need time to focus on the things that aren’t painful or anxiety-provoking. We need to build appreciation and awareness of what is good in our lives and in the world as a counter-balance to what is challenging and distressing. We need reassurance and positivity. We need ways to relax our bodies and calm our emotions when they become difficult to tolerate and sit with. It’s not a matter of “be with” OR “get away from”–it’s BOTH.

Dunes at Ocean Beach, San Francisco. Photo by Blair J. Davis.

As we wrestle with our current, frightening reality, let’s be patient with and kind to ourselves and others. Each of us may need different ways to cope and soothe. That said, if you haven’t tried forest bathing, I recommend it. If forest bathing doesn’t suit you, I still encourage you to spend some time outdoors. Try sitting on a park bench and people-watching or reading a book. Admire a pretty garden, watch a bird flying, see shapes in the clouds. Fresh air and nature are healing. Peace be with you, and may health and safety be with us all.