Founder Finds

I have a peculiar trait that I call "detritophilia." Whenever I find myself in a place with a long history of human habitation, I will visually scan disturbed pieces of ground looking for discarded bits of everyday life from times past. It's a kind of urban archeology except I don't do any digging. I simply look for objects that are lying on the surface, waiting in plain sight for my trained eye to spot.

Anyway, in 1988, I made multiple trips to Covina to clean out our family home and prepare it for sale. One day while returning from Azusa with packing materials, I decided to kill some time and explore the vacant lot at San Bernardino Road and Hollenbeck where the Phillips House once stood (and the Julián Badilla house before that). Here are the four pieces of historical detritus that I collected that day.

Photo by J Scott Shannon. Scale in inches.

This was pretty easy to identify as the broken off end of an iron prying bar. Upon closer inspection, though, I noticed its shape was distinctly asymmetrical, which suggested to me that it was forged by hand.

Photo by J Scott Shannon. Scale in inches.

This object baffled me for the longest time. My best guess was some sort of wall or ceiling fixture. It wasn't until recently that Michael Schoenholtz suggested that it might be the reflective portion of a candle sconce, and I now think he's exactly right. This, too, appears to be quite old, and hand-hammered. Note in particular how crudely the edges on the reverse side are formed.

Photo by J Scott Shannon. Scale in inches.

Two pottery fragments: the one on the left apparently of glazed porcelain, and the other, glazed red clay pottery. Not much to say about them, except that they're almost certainly pieces of some sort of tableware, and that one's fancy in design and the other is plain.

So, how old are these objects? Obviously they can't be dated precisely, but because the plot of land where they were found was not built upon until 1876, that gives us their earliest likely origin date.

Additionally, the apparent hand-made quality of the metal items makes it reasonable to assume that they are from a time when tools and other hardware were made by and purchased from local blacksmiths rather than being mass-manufactured and sold in stores. Store-bought goods probably became more common after 1890, so that's my best guess for the upper end of the age range.

So, if these items date from the period 1876-1890, they could have belonged to either Julián Badilla or Joseph Phillips. However, I tend to think the cruder-made metal objects are from the Badilla era. That candle sconce, in particular, looks more like a fixture on the wall of a simple farmhouse than the imported mahogany paneling of a mansion.

These finds are all to be donated to the Covina Valley Historical Society.

 

The Founder's House

In the early 20th century, the citizens of Covina all recognized this ornate manse formerly standing at the southwest corner of San Bernardino Road and Hollenbeck Street as the house of the city's founder: Joseph S. Phillips (1840-1905). Despite its past status as a local landmark, over time its origins became obscured, and confusion has arisen in recent years about exactly whose house this was.

Painting by Melbourne Sumpter, image courtesy Glenn Reed/Covina Valley Historical Society.

Two specific facts about the place are undisputed:

• The first house on that site was built by pioneer José Julián Badilla after he and his elder brother Pedro bought the land in 1876.^1,2,3

• In 1882, after Joseph Phillips agreed to buy 2,000 acres of then ex-Badilla land from J. Edward Hollenbeck (1829-1885), Phillips moved into Julián Badilla's former home.^1,3,4

Most latter-day historians have also presumed that this two-storey Queen Anne Victorian is the same house built by Julián Badilla.^1,4 However, could it be that Phillips replaced the original structure with a home of his own? Fact is, we don't know for certain one way or another, because there is no surviving record of who actually built the old landmark, or when.

In this article, I will attempt to answer the "who and when" with information that is now available, specifically maps that were published in the 1870s and 1880s, modern-day photographic and descriptive evidence, logical deduction and parsimony.

Citrus Avenue, 1938

Looking north on Citrus Avenue...

...from Workman Avenue:

...and from Badillo Street:

But when?

Covina Schools Timeline

When I compiled the Covina History Timeline almost ten years ago, I included several entries that pertained to local educational institutions, but the number and scope of those mentions was necessarily limited. This new timeline delves into the history of Covina's schools in much greater detail. Most of the information presented here concerning schools of the postwar era was drawn from a book published in 1996 by the Covina-Valley Unified School District entitled "Centennial 1896-1996." Other references include Donald Pflueger's histories of Glendora (1951) and Covina (1964), Dr. Barbara Ann Hall's Covina (2007), and newspaper articles of the day found in the online archive Newspapers.com. Citations for specific entries are available upon request. Please bear in mind: this timeline is an ongoing work in progress. Corrections, additions, and their supporting documentation are always welcome.

Circa 1850 – "Don Enrique" Dalton sets aside a room on his Rancho Azusa where the children of the upper valley's earliest settlers can learn their Three Rs.

Second Street Park

For the past eight decades, Covina's Second Street has been a rather bleak expanse of asphalt, but look how pretty it used to be! From 1923-1949, Second had a 16-foot-wide median strip^1,2 running from San Bernardino Road south to Badillo that was graced by 48 Queen palms (Syagrus romanzoffiana). They called it "Second Street Park."³

Looking north on Second Street from College Street, c.1940. Photo courtesy Covina Valley Historical Society c/o Powell Camera Shop.

So why was this visually-appealing landscaping done away with? You guessed it: parking.² Initially, the palms were replanted along the sidewalks and elsewhere,³ but eventually all but one of them were removed. This single, solitary palm at the northeast corner of the Badillo alley is now all that remains of old Second Street Park.

Source: Google Street View.

Kind of sad, isn't it? Wouldn't it be nice if Covina were to re-beautify Second in the 21st century? I can hardly think of another major street in town that is more in need of aesthetic improvement.

References:

¹ Covina Argus, July 28, 1922, p.1.
² Covina Argus-Citizen, April 4, 1947, p.8.
³ Covina Argus-Citizen, June 18, 1948, p.1.

 

Covina's Old Neighbors

The localities described below would have been household names to Covinans during the the town's first half-century, but most are unfamiliar today.

USGS map from 1908 showing Covina and environs in the early 20th century. (Note the original alignments of roads in the area of present-day West Covina.)
Click on the image for an enlargement.

The Baseball Champs of '09

In 1909, Covina made big sports headlines. That year, the town boasted a semi-pro baseball team that went undefeated its entire first season. A remarkable feat in itself, but what followed was arguably the most momentous sporting event to ever take place in Covina, when the major league Chicago White Sox came here to play the amateur champs. Yet surprisingly, this remarkable story was mostly lost to history... until now.

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Our story begins with George E. Covert, a bona fide real estate wunderkind. He closed his first sale when he was only 17, and in 1908, at the age of 23, he sold almost $100,000 worth of orange and walnut groves in a single month.¹ So what does a young hot shot do with that kind of money? Well, George just happened to be a sports fan, so he organized a ball club to represent and promote his adopted town of Covina.²

His first team–which he called the White Squadron–was formed in December, 1908,^3,4 and was manned mostly with homegrown raw talent.⁵ Home games were played at the ball grounds located on leased land^4,5 at the foot of Citrus Avenue,⁶ which at that time was where the I-10 freeway is today.⁷ Admission was 25¢,⁸ and the popular Sunday afternoon games attracted hundreds of fans.⁹

Covert's financial support also paid for much-needed improvements to the field and bleachers,⁶ and snazzy new uniforms that were clearly tailored to impress.³ According to the Los Angeles Herald:

The body of [Covina's] suits will be white, with green trimmings, and the same color scheme will be carried throughout, the coat being green with white cuffs, white pearl buttons, white old English "C" on left breast. Small green "C" showing through white diamond on sleeves of coat. Breeches will have a small green bead running down outside seam, the caps having the same kind of bead on the seams. Stockings will be green, with a broad white band.⁴

And here are the Covina boys, all gussied up in their fancy new finery.

The Covina White Squadron, March, 1909.
Standing: Stewart, 2b; Pitts, p,1b; Covert (Manager); "Bab" Fairly, rf; Shirley, 3b.
Seated: King, c; ?Hooker, cf; Hughes, ss; "Ping" Fairly, p,of; Libby, 1b (Captain);⁴ team mascot; Montague, lf.
Photo courtesy Mark Thiel, Powell Camera Shop, Covina.

Angel in the Outfield

Meet Mr. Glenn Montague, a/k/a "Monty" to his teammates and friends. I've gotten to know this gentleman pretty well the last couple of weeks, and I think you'd enjoy meeting him, too. Our acquaintance began when I stumbled upon this rare postcard.

The Arrow Highway

One-hundred years ago today–March 20, 1924–the "Arrow Route Association" was formed at the Sycamore Inn in Upland^1,2 to promote the development of a modern 80-foot-wide² interurban highway from San Bernardino to Los Angeles. It was proposed to relieve traffic on Foothill Boulevard while also linking the business districts of Rialto, Fontana, Cucamonga, Upland, Claremont, La Verne and San Dimas.^1,2 The ambitious initial plans even called for the new thoroughfare to extend beyond Los Angeles to Santa Monica.³

A pleasant rural stretch of the early Arrow Route in Cucamonga, San Bernardino County, 1933. (The approximate location today.)
Photos courtesy Darin Kuna and Huntington Digital Library.

In Covina at that time, the existing main boulevards to Los Angeles–Foothill and Valley–were 3 and 7 miles away from town respectively; not exactly convenient. The Arrow Highway, however, was to pass only a mile north of Covina, so community leaders were very much for the idea right from the start. Accordingly, on November 6, 1924, Covina's own J. L. Matthews was appointed chairman of a committee to oversee Arrow's completion west from La Verne to El Monte, where it was to intersect Valley Boulevard.⁴

Matthews, significantly, was also the publisher of the city's most influential newspaper, which he used as a platform to actively booster the plan. In this editorial, it's clear he could hardly contain his enthusiasm.

Covina Argus, September 30, 1927.⁵

Ironically, it would be landowners in the Covina area who would erect most of the procedural roadblocks that impeded Arrow Highway's eventual completion.

Covina's Early Churches

During Spanish and Mexican rule, the Catholic Franciscan Misión de San Gabriel Arcángel (1771) was the sole religious institution in the region. After statehood, however, the overwhelming majority of area settlers were members of Protestant denominations, and the first of those to form congregations in what was then called the Upper Azusa Valley were the Methodists in 1872, followed by the Baptists in 1873.¹

The German Baptists in particular played a significant role in the early history of Covina. In 1883, they proposed to purchase the entire Phillips Tract in the Lower Azusa Valley for the purpose of establishing a religious colony. Even though the deal eventually fell through, a fair number of Brethren remained in the area, and in 1886,¹ they began construction of the first dedicated church building in the new townsite of Covina.

The local Methodist and Episcopal congregations soon followed suit with their own pioneer churches; in 1888 and 1891 respectively.¹

The early Methodist and Episcopal Churches in Covina, 1894. Source: California State Library.

Covina Orange Boxes

Thought I'd show off my Covina orange crates (which were actually referred to as "boxes" back in the day). Although exhibiting some wear, the labels are in overall good shape for their age, and the boxes themselves are still sound enough to stack for display shelving.

Just eyeballing, the "Red C" appears to be the older of the two. Red C was a long-standing brand of the Covina Citrus Association which was established around 1895,¹ though my guess is this particular box dates to the 1930s. The Valencia Heights Orchards Association was in business from around 1930 through the mid-Fifties,^2,3 and I think its box here is from the post-WWII Forties.

I would still like to obtain a Covina orchard box, which were stouter in construction and had branded rather than applied paper labels, but the only one of those I ever saw for sale went for more than I could afford. I no longer recall exactly what I paid for my shippers, but for sure it was less than a hundred each. They have way more historical and sentimental value to me than that, though!

Scene inside the A.C.G. (Azusa-Covina-Glendora) Citrus Exchange, 1910s.

References:

¹ Covina Argus, October 5, 1907, p.12.
² Covina Citizen, November 19, 1931, p.6.
³ Covina Argus-Citizen, January 30, 1953, p.7.

 

The KKK in Covina

The rumors you may have heard are true: the Ku Klux Klan was indeed active in Covina a century ago.

In his 1964 history,¹ Donald Pflueger tells of one well-attended KKK event (p.102). He quotes the Covina Argus of August 8, 1924:

Several hundred people gathered at the city park last Saturday night to listen to a program put on by the Ku Klux Klan. Seats had been provided and the audience was kept interested from the opening band concert until the close of the lecture given by Realm Lecturer Lackey, from the Imperial Palace at Atlanta, Georgia.

Pflueger continues:

Apparently it was an audience of curiosity seekers, because the organization made little progress among Covina’s citizenry. Nonetheless, Covina was one-hundred percent white; Mexicans lived in Irwindale and elsewhere. No one seriously questioned the “White Race Only” sign on the city’s plunge.