Guest Column

History is Relative

My hometown in Texas—population 1,275—celebrated its 50^th year anniversary the summer after I graduated from high school. The celebration was a big deal—days of contests for best costumes and beards — ending with a live band and dancing on Main Street. The history of Idalou, Tex., was measured in decades.

Four years later, my husband Joie and I found ourselves in graduate school on the East Coast and were introduced to history measured in centuries with buildings and sites dating back to the founding of our country, places that we had only read about in history books. Then on our first trip to Europe, we discovered wonder after wonder, including Roman ruins and magnificent 12th century structures. History for us now extended to before the birth of Christ.

In Denmark, on a later trip, we visited with Thomas and Nana, a Danish couple we had come to know while we were in graduate school. Nana’s father introduced us to ancient Viking burial mounds and artifacts. History had been extended for us an additional 1,000 years and now was measured in millenniums. While Joie was utterly enthralled with being able to hold and handle a late Nordic stone age ax blade, I was more impressed with the house where Thomas had grown up.

The eldest son in Thomas’s family had been the harbormaster for his home village for generations—for 900 years to be exact. For close to a century, the family had lived in the house allocated for the harbormaster, a position then filled by Thomas’s older brother. The house had been remodeled over the years, but the original core had been saved and the art and furnishings reflected the entire 900 years of occupancy. The family had cared enough through the years to preserve this living history of their ancestry.

Moving to Laguna Beach in 1977, we were immediately drawn to the sense of history we found here. Unlike the tract development that characterizes surrounding towns, Laguna reflected organic growth with vestiges of its history evident in its downtown village, commercial areas, and eclectic neighborhoods. Laguna felt like a town that, while housing multiple generations, would welcome newcomers.

Since the town was founded only 90 years ago this June, Laguna doesn’t have any centuries old buildings, but it does have history and buildings that reflect that history. And this sense of history gives the town a warmth and charm that far too few Southern California towns possess. Not all these buildings are spectacular in and of themselves, but together they create a collective ambiance that makes the town special, that gives Laguna its unique feel.

This sense of historic presence will be lost if we lose the homes, shops, and civic buildings that reflect our past. To say that these structures are not old enough or grand enough in themselves to be important misses the point: While not individually grand, together they create an irreplaceable sense of time, of family—a presence that will be lost if we don’t find ways to maintain their contributions to making Laguna Laguna.

Becky Jones has been involved in Laguna Beach organizations and civic affairs since moving here in 1977 and served on the Laguna Beach Planning Commission from 1983 to 1993.