Taste of Success : Fast Food Wasn’t Welcomed With Open Arms in Julian--Just Open Mouths
David Kersten and Robert Henie showed up in this historic San Diego County gold-mining town expecting the worst.
As the owners of Julian’s first-ever fast-food franchises, they feared being labeled greedy invaders in a picturesque mountain town that prizes its quaintness and charm and its annual apple festival. In fact, until last month--until Kersten and Henie came to town--Julian had staved off even the rumor of fast food. Kentucky Fried Chicken and McDonald’s had crept only as close as nearby Ramona.
Julian had remained an outpost of turn-of-the-century architecture, homemade pies and hand-pressed cider.
And then it happened.
“I expected an outpouring of negativism,” said Henie, who in early September opened a Subway sandwich shop on Main Street, thus breaking the unwritten code. “I heard people were going to picket us. I started to wonder why on earth I was doin’ this.”
Kersten and Henie both say business is booming, but for a while, each felt like a pickle inside a hamburger bun: stuck in the middle of a small-town dispute. And to make matters worse, this dispute drew national attention.
It seems Kersten was able to open a Dairy Queen and Henie a Subway only because their landlord, Jerry Zweig, made a deal with the local water board. As one resident said, it was the kind of deal that made Ebenezer Scrooge a part of folklore.
Zweig’s private well on the Stonewall Stores property, which lists Kersten and Henie as its newest tenants, happens to furnish drought-stricken Julian with 30% to 50% of its daily supply of water. Julian gets all of its water from private wells.
Months ago, Zweig made an offer the water board couldn’t refuse: He would sell it 30,000 gallons a day in return for permission to bring in fast food. Despite a drought-induced moratorium on new development, Zweig got what he wanted.
The Times and Cable News Network picked up the story, and Michael Judson-Carr, the publisher of the Julian News, said sympathy and support has poured in from across the nation.
Part of the feedback came from water experts, who, according to Judson-Carr, offered to help by exploring new sources of water, thus potentially freeing the town from “its dependence on a single individual.”
Zweig, a San Diego developer, could not be reached for comment. But Judson-Carr said the water board, known officially as the Julian Community Services District, hopes to import water from nearby communities and eliminate the need of buying from Zweig.
In the meantime, fast food has arrived, and while many of Julian’s 1,300 residents--particularly retirees who fled Los Angeles and San Diego--loathe and lament the new arrivals, kids and parents couldn’t be happier.
“I love ‘em!” junior high school student Zack Mitchell, 13, said of the franchises as he licked a chocolate Dairy Queen cone.
“The best thing is, they live up to their name--they’re fast,” Zac Sawyer, also 13, said of the fast-food invaders. “So many of the restaurants around here are soooooo slow.”
And expensive, said Judy Brooking, 33, a mother who gives her two daughters and the neighborhood kids a fast-food “treat” twice a week. Because tourism is the lifeblood of the town, Brooking said, high prices are often the bane of a resident’s existence.
“But the prices are starting to come down, all over town,” said Brooking, a nine-year resident. “And as far as I’m concerned, they can bring in more fast food.”
Before the new fast-food restaurants opened, the Julian News conducted an informal poll of residents. Seventy-two percent of those interviewed said the franchises were unwelcome and that they wished they’d go elsewhere. Virginia Nunez, 65, who with her husband moved to Julian from Santa Monica eight years ago, is one of those who sees the encroachment of fast food as evidence that the long finger of California sprawl has finally reached the rugged Cuyamaca Mountains.
Her fear is that Julian will become exactly like the urban clutter she tried to escape.
“A lot of locals just won’t patronize them,” Nunez sniffed.
Still, it’s hard to tell who holds the majority view. Both Kersten and Henie say their businesses have exceeded expectations, though they agree that older residents, tourists and competing merchants are reluctant to say welcome.
“But the townspeople are just pouring out of the hills,” Henie said. “My business is 95% in-town residents.”
Travis Mallon, 16, a Julian High School student, said he noticed a peculiar fear taking hold of older residents as the fast-food openings drew near. But it wasn’t justified, he said.
“A lot of people thought it would change our way of life around here,” Mallon said. “And it just hasn’t.”
