Oral History Recollections of La Vida Mineral Springs

One of the more common discussion points in the oral histories of Olinda oil fields residents gathered for the 1978 Cal State Fullerton, Oral History Program publication Pipelines to the Past concerns La Vida Mineral Springs, which opened in the 1920s.

Notably, there were some important contradictions contained in the reminiscences, although this can be a common issue with oral history, which is significantly about selective memory or the pitfalls of reaching back very far into the past. At any rate, it is very interesting to read the various recollections.


For example, Merle Van Ness Hale, who was born in 1896, remembered:“We’d walk from the Columbia Lease up to the sulphur springs up there in Carbon Canyon. He’d drink the water. I couldn’t touch it! But he’d say, ‘It’s healthy.’ The reason they had sulphur water up there is because they drilled an oil well up there and it came in sulphur. So it took people later on to make a health resort out of it – La Vida Hot Springs.”


The Columbia Oil Company lease was near today's Valencia Avenue on the west side as you drive up from Carbon Canyon Road/Lambert Road toward the landfill. The person she is referring to was her father.


Lois Muzzall Smith, born in 1911, recalled going to the springs with an uncle who came back from World War I with acute rheumatism:“So we used to take him up Carbon Canyon to La Vida Hot Springs to take the baths. You know, in the early days, in that period, they didn’t have them all fixed up fancy and nice like they have now; they had wooden barrels sunk in holes in the ground, and there were the steps to walk down and get into the water. Then you’d soak in this hot mineral water. They had it in a little wooden building to protect it, with a little lattice work when you walked into it. I used to go up there with my aunt and uncle and play around while he was in having his bat. Later on I used to drive up many times in my own car, just because I loved it up that way.”

“I don’t think it cost over a dollar a bath. I know that was the first place I ever went to a dance, up to La Vida Hot Springs. I went with this same aunt and uncle. . . I was nineteen years old [1924.]“Oh, they had about a four or five-piece band—it was really a lot of noise—and they had a nice floor. I think they have the restaurant in a place where they used to dance.”


Mrs. Smith's description of the bathing structures corresponds exactly with the photograph that I shared as "Carbon Canyon Historical Artifact #4" a couple of weeks ago, relative to the small wooden structures covered in lattice (or screen) with wooden barrels evidently placed in the ground within the buildings. It is also interesting to hear about the price and the dances that went on (in the 1980s, punk bands played at the restaurant, long after the soaking tubs were gone, but I can't imagine Mrs. Smith would have appreciated the historical continuity!)


Jack Gauldin, born in 1897, adds something new to his description as far as how the springs were discovered:


“The La Vida Hot Springs was originated from a well drilled for oil up on the hillside. It didn’t produce oil, however, only hot soda water. All of the oil people, or lots of the oil people, would go up there and go back up in this canyon. The men would have to stand watch for the women, because there wasn’t any bathhouses or anything. Later on they went up and built two wooden buildings and piped water into them. Water flowed down the hillside all the time. Even in the 1920s, it still stood that way, and then they built a bathhouse. . . It has a sulphur springs and also it has what they call a soda springs. The soda springs water is what they claim is so healthy.”


Also important in his description is how the springs were used by locals before the resort was opened by William Newton Miller and his son-in-law in 1924.


Born in 1890, Jessie Isbell was the oldest of the seven interviewees and had this to say:


“Well, there was La Vida Hot Springs in Carbon Canyon with its hot baths. At first, it was just a little building and beside it a row of little cubbyholes. We used to go up there and have a hot bath. At the time, you could get somebody to give you a good rubdown or an osteopathic treatment. It grew and it grew, and they built a nice big building and a hotel. Later, they put in a hot pool, where people could go and soak in the heat. Then came a swimming pool—a lovely, big swimming pool with a nice bathhouse to go with it. I usually went out there about two or three times during the winter when I was teaching. Another thing that they had there was a faucet with soda water that was from the hot spring that came up there. They used that for their hot pool and for warming their cold pool a bit. You could bring your big, five-gallon jar to this faucet and get some water and take it home. Most of us did that. The creek just ran constantly, summer and winter. We enjoyed that water. It wasn’t very soda, but it did have a soda flavor.”


As Mrs. Isbell noted, Carbon Creek (or Carbon Canyon Creek) ran year-round then and appears to do so now, although runoff contributes more now and recent drought has affected water levels. It is also worth pointing out here that the creek was not choked with arundo as it is today (I've noticed, by the way, that the fast-growing plant is now within 3/10 of a mile or so from Sleepy Hollow as it races up the creek eastward.)


In contrast to Mrs. Isbell, Harold Van Patten was the youngest of those in the book, born in 1923. His recollections are quite different, although it could well be the difference in generations when it comes to who used La Vida.


First, when asked about the springs and who the clientele were, Mr. Van Patten stated that:“By the time I was there the La Vida Hotel was there. It had a similar background to Murietta Hot Springs, and the Los Angeles Jewish community would come out to it on weekends. There was a bottling company which put out a soft drink called La Vida Lime and Lemon, and it was made from the natural carbonated water.”


It is interesting that he specifically discussed the popularity of La Vida with Jews from Los Angeles, given that the Workmen's Circle in that city had established a children's camp, Camp Kinder Ring, in the Sleepy Hollow area in 1928. Viewers will also recall that my post on "Carbon Canyon Historical Artifact #2" was about a bottle from the La Vida mineral water business that ran from about 1928.


When, however, Mr. Van Patten was asked if locals went to La Vida, he responded: “Not a lot. It was where the Jewish people went, and there was very little contact. A few people went up there and worked on a small basis either at the hotel or around there, but there was just a minimum of contact. It was a little community all to itself. They didn’t participate in any way with Olinda. None of the oil company business was involved there in any way.”

Obviously, older residents from the oil field communities did visit the springs, but apparently more in the era before Mr. Van Patten, who presumably would recall the 1930s and later. The idea of the isolation of the springs from Olinda is also notable.

Well, these memories are essential documents to the history of Carbon Canyon, even if we do acknowledge that they are recollections subject to distortions of time or the selectivity of the interviewee. La Vida's importance within the canyon led most of the interviewers to make a point of specifically asking about it.


Next time, we'll get to some recollections about Carbon Canyon Road.

Sleepy Hollow in the News (OK, New York)!

I will be taking a little breather from the blog for a few days, but couldn't resist posting this item from the Los Angeles Times today.

Friday evening in Sleepy Hollow, NEW YORK, the home of the famous Washington Irving novel about the headless horseman, there was an attempted robbery that led to the shooting of the victim. For that town, that might be local news, but what evidently made it worth a mention in the Times was the fact that the victim was Anthony "Cousin Vinny" Agnello, who was carrying around $100,000 in jewelry. Even for an Italian, that's a lot of bling, unless you are the proud proprietor of Famous Cousin Vinny's Gorgeous Strippers (I kid you not, that's the name of the business!)

Yes, "Cousin Vinny" was escorting some of his employees to a bachelor party in old Sleepy Hollow, NEW YORK, when he was accosted by two men. During the fracas, Agnello was shot in the thigh, but the two evildoers got away and haven't been located.



You know, our little local Sleepy Hollow has had a colorful history, but I'm not sure anything in the neighborhood annals, real or mythical, can compete with this one!

Is Carbon Canyon Road safer than it used to be?

OK, one more before I call it a night and probably take several days off! But, I came across this earlier tonight and, in light of my other recent posts on Canyon driving, I thought it would be good to post this excerpt from a Los Angeles Times article by David Ryan, which appeared in Section B, Page 5 on 11 February 2000:

It may seem more dangerous and just as congested, but Carbon Canyon Road is actually safer now than it was 10 years ago.


The road has been the scene of 717 accidents, including 15 fatalities, since 1989 and just received a failing grade from the city traffic engineer for the 10th year in a row, but figures from the California Highway Patrol indicate the road has become safer.


CHP statistics show the number of people killed or involved in crashes has dropped more than 50% since 1989. The state released information on the stretch from Valencia Boulevard to Chino Hills Parkway in Chino Hills.


CHP spokeswoman Anne Da Vigo said the decline in injury accidents and fatalities on the road reflects a statewide trend since 1993–the year police were first allowed to stop and cite motorists for not wearing seat belts.

Actually, I'd like to rephrase that opening part to: "It may seem more congested and just as dangerous."

I don't know--a 50% drop really does sound impressive, but 15 fatalities in 11 years is still a lot and over 700 accidents in 11 years is about one every five days or so. And, just how many tickets have been given out since 2000 for people not wearing seat belts?

One last thing: just because the road became "safer", due to the halving of deaths from 1989 to 2000, does not mean that dangerous driving behavior on Carbon Canyon Road is something to be pushed even further off the radar (oh, nice pun!) than it already is. Oh, and it's nice to know that the city engineer (must be Brea) gave the road a failing grade for AN ENTIRE DECADE straight. Wonder how that report card has held up in the 2000s so far!

Nighty-night!

Carbon Canyon Historical Artifact #5

Appropos of the post I just put up about the history of Olinda is this disbound advertisement from the 25 January 1929 issue of The Oil Weekly, a national trade publication. The ad is for the Agathon Steel Bit, from the Agathon Alloy Steels line, a brand of the Central Alloy Steel Corporation of Massillon, Ohio (ah, the old steel belt of America, now a rusted relic).

The photo is of Well #96 at the CCMO (Chanslor-Canfield Midway Oil) lease, or the Upper Santa Fe, north of Carbon Canyon Road, somewhere in the vicinity of the Olinda Ranch housing tract.

This seemed like a good a time as any to post this interesting artifact, which is item 2008.5.1.1 from the Carbon Canyon Collection.

Olinda and Carbon Canyon Oral History

A few days ago, I was able to get my hands on a great little publication called Pipelines to the Past: An Oral History of Olinda, California, put out by the oral history program at Cal State Fullerton back in 1978. In it, seven former residents of the Olinda oil area shared their reminiscences of living there, with the timespan ranging from about 1905 to 1965.

From time to time, I'll share excerpts from this little gem of canyon history and will start with my rendering of the general history, based on an introduction by Tom Savage and a reading of the interviews, of this place that was special enough to get its own State Historic Landmark designation with the plaque now at Carbon Canyon Regional Park.



The history of Olinda dates to 1891 and the formation of the Olinda Ranch Company by W. H. Bailey, who tried to promote agriculture for citrus, beets, grains, nuts, fruits and grapes. The venture failed, however, because of the problem of oil seepage into irrigation canals to the fields, as well as into drinking water supplies. Within a few short years, however, matters would change dramatically.



Edward Doheny, who with Charles Canfield, drilled the first successful oil well in the city of Los Angeles in 1892 (a venture for which he was ridiculed), visited the Olinda area and, convinced there was oil there, drilled the first well in 1897. The first well, still operating within the Olinda Ranch subdivision today, was a success, although the initial output of 50 barrels a day was paltry by later standards. Ten more wells were drilled in 1898 and with several major "gushers", the Olinda field became a proven success. Doheny developed a partnership with the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad (known generally as the Santa Fe) to operate two leases known as Upper and Lower Santa Fe, these now in the area around the Olinda Ranch housing tract. Eventually, the Santa Fe Railroad built a railroad spur line from its main line to the south (paralleling Orangethorpe Avenue). The upper lease went to the Chanslor-Canfield Midway Oil Company, commonly known as the CCMO, co-owned by Doheny's former partner, Charles Canfield. The latter was the Olinda Crude Oil Company, with the lease known as the Olinda Land Company Lease. Eventually, there were other leases in the area known as Stearns, Columbia, General Petroleum, and West Coast.



Hundreds of persons lived and worked in the Olinda field, though whether there was a town or official settlement was a matter of opinion. Bachelors bunked and married men could rent or lease houses or build their own on company land. The work could be hard and dangerous over 12-hour shifts, though oil field workers were well-known for their physical and mental toughness. Because of their relative isolation, the residents of the Olinda area experienced a close-knit community and their oil company bosses maintained, for those interviewed in the book, a sufficient level of support to foster company loyalty among "open shop", that is, non-union, workers. For example, companies sponsored sports teams, built recreation halls, and provided other amenities.



Speaking of sports, Olinda was best known for decades as the home for several years of Walter Johnson, a Hall of Fame baseball pitcher with the old Washington Senators, before leaving to turn professional. A near-mythical event (nearly anyone who lived in Brea claimed to be there) was an exhibition game near the intersection of Brea Boulevard and Lambert Road that featured Johnson and Herman "Babe" Ruth, the legendary New York Yankees slugger. A recent Los Angeles Times article covered that event, which took place in 1924. Another well-known Olinda resident was Major John L. [Jack] Armstrong, a World War II fighter pilot who was a prisoner of war held by the Germans after he was shot down in September 1944. After the war, he became a record-setting test pilot, but his career was cut short in a deadly crash at an air show in September 1954.



The Upper Santa Fe lease, or the CCMO, had the largest settlement and included a Methodist Episcopal Church, a general store, and a barbershop. There were a few small businesses elsewhere, including a food store and barbershop on the Columbia lease near today's Valencia Avenue. While estimates of the population at Olinda vary widely, there were certainly several hundred people living and working at the several leases over the years.



Olinda School was founded shortly after 1900 and the second school location was adjacent to Carbon Creek in what is now Carbon Canyon Regional Park. Although the school was closed by the 1960s, part of the structure was relocated for use as community center in Brea. Moreover, when the new Olinda Village subdivision was opened to the east in 1964, a new school, also called Olinda School, was opened and the original school bell from its predecessor dedicated at the new facility.



According to several interviewees, the death knell of Olinda included advances in technology that led to high speed drilling; the decline of on-site resident workers with the use of the car, a desire for better housing, and increased costs to the company; and, finally, a decline in the productivity in the field. Another issue relative to the physical loss of the Olinda community was the agitation for improved flood control after heavy storms in 1938 caused widespread flooding, property damage, and deaths in north Orange County. After World War II and the post-war economic boom ensued, the movement to dam Carbon Creek accelerated. By 1960, the dam was completed and remnants such as the old Olinda School were replaced. In 1975, after years of effort, Carbon Canyon Regional Park was established on part of the old Olinda community site and a State Historic Landmark plaque erected. Although some production continued in recent years and, to this day, there are still a few pumping wells, the advent of the Olinda Ranch housing tract led to the development of the last major area of the old field. Fortunately, the old CCMO office, the Santa Fe well #1, and other relics were retained as part of the Olinda Oil Museum.

Today, the name is retained in a few places: the 1960s tract called "Olinda Village" and the Olinda school; the more recent subdivision of "Olinda Ranch" and the new oil museum there; and the city high school, still called Brea-Olinda. There are probably few, if any, persons still living who resided at the Olinda oil field and as the derricks and "grasshoppers" are dismantled, the wells capped, the soil "cleaned", and the sites made ready for development, the physical reminders give way to the pages of history. Hopefully, Olinda will continue to be remembered for its important place in an industry that once predominated in the region.

If you like this history stuff, keep an eye out for more in future posts!

75 mph in Carbon Canyon: Documented

Back in July, I had a post with a link to a YouTube video clip of a motorcyclist who was quite proud of the fact that he taped himself doing speeds of up to 90 mph eastbound on Carbon Canyon Road from just before Carriage Hills to near the end of the canyon as you approach Chino Hills Parkway.

Turns out, he had a second clip that started on the Brea side that lasted through Sleepy Hollow. In that case, the speeds only topped out at 75 mph on the sparsely populated OC side, while maintaining a leisurely 60+ in Sleepy Hollow, my neck of the woods. Here it is:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B9r77rUEZVM

In the comments to his post, our hero claims that a deer crossed the road at about the 1:10 mark and that it is barely noticeable. I couldn't see anything, although a few seconds later, Einstein tells his brother that there was a deer back there. Gosh, wouldn't it be funny if, say, the deer had gotten right in front of one or both of them and there was a collision? On the other hand, if that had happened, we wouldn't have had the clip to enjoy, now would we?

For that matter, what would have happened if someone were trying to make a left turn from, say, Sleepy Hollow onto the road while one of these geniuses was hitting the curves at 60 mph or faster?

What did happen to the motorcyclist who was probably doing comparable speeds or faster back in May 2007 when a parcel delivery truck made a turn out of Old Carbon Canyon Road?

Well, his roadside memorial is on a separate post from earlier this month.

I'll send this link, just like I did the other, to the Chino Hills city staffer I've spoken to a few times about my concerns about unsafe driving on Carbon Canyon Road. Because I heard nothing from this person on the last message I sent, I'm going to be realistic and expect nothing this time, too.

BUT, if there were more concerns expressed by others, including organizations like neighborhood watch committees (I've mentioned my concerns to my local one previously) and homeowner's associations, MAYBE something would get done. Because one guy with a concern won't get it done and at least one honest field rep at a state representative's office told me quite openly that that's the case--the proof seems to be that he never called me back when he promised he would.

Because this guy may have had the cojones to tape himself doing this, but there are untold others who just drive that way, in cycles and cars. WITH IMPUNITY.

I'd like to think the visual evidence might mean something . . .

What?! Another Road Closure in Carbon Canyon?!

Another little news item from the recent 16 August issue of the Champion notifies us that on the previous Saturday at 2:15 a.m. a 21-year old driving a 2008 BMW on Carbon Canyon Road lost control and knocked down a power pole near Carriage Hills Road on the Chino Hills side. Consequently, the road was closed for much of the day while crews repaired the line, rerouting traffic through the Carriage Hills subdivision. The above photos were taken on 20 August, nearly two weeks after the accident, and they've fertilized the tire track scars to quickly regrow the grass, but there was clearly some serious chewing going on here.

Not too to be too judgmental here, BUT, let's add this up, shall we?

21-year old driver, check.

2008 BMW, check.

2:15 a.m. on a weekend, check.

Oh, one other important part of the story: turns out that the driver fled the scene of the accident, was arrested not too long thereafter and was booked on a charge of hit-and-run.

Speeding, check.

And, what else?

In the meantime, can we expect any increase in patrolling in the canyon to try and let people like the defendant know that there is a police presence there (and maybe not the same time each time)?

Hmmm . . . .

After all, knocking down a power pole, that's only a minor inconvience. As I stated a few posts back, not even the fact that we've had several fatalities in the last few years, has stirred any interest whatsoever from local authorities in either Brea or Chino Hills to do anything. So, if death won't do it, property damage, power outages, and other trivialities sure won't.

What will it take?

An innocent life?