Valuing History in Signs of Long-Ago Commerce

There was a time when funny-looking cars with bugged-out headlights and running boards clattered down the wide-open roads, and vast stretches of wonderful nothing were broken only by a few tall neon signs announcing the nascence of civilization.

An isolated roadhouse here, a tumbleweed motor inn there, the ‘20s and ‘30s-era signs that marked the spot were a form of commercial art. Most are long gone, and the few remaining are nearly anonymous in the cities that crowded around them.

In Dana Point, a fledgling effort has begun to preserve the last of the funky old signs, some with Art Deco shapes and blocky lettering, before a city deadline in August.

That’s when all outmoded signs in the city are supposed to come down, except those declared worth saving.

“In theory, all documented nonconforming signs would need to be removed,” said Edward Knight, director of community development.

Owners may appeal to save their signs.

“What we’re looking for is not only age but that it’s been maintained in its original form and has some sort of historic or cultural value,” Knight said.

City officials favor smaller signs that don’t “overwhelm,” Knight said. The Dana Point Historical Society says there were 342 outmoded signs when the city incorporated 10 years ago, but nobody is sure how many there are today.

The society estimates only a handful rate special protection.

“I would guess we’re looking at fewer than a dozen of historical significance,” said society member Layton Rawlins, who is active in the sign preservation campaign.

For some owners, the signs are a link not only with the community’s past but with their own.

The faded pink sign outside the El Patio Cafe on Doheny Park Road was erected in 1937, when the eatery was opened at a different site by Lucy Saunderson. When the restaurant was relocated in 1950, she moved the sign to the current site.

She’s retired now, at 83, and her son, Jack, is the owner.

“We’re the longest-running business in town,” he said. He wants to fix up the tired sign, which is shaped like a bent neon arrow pointing customers to the restaurant.

“I haven’t restored it [because the city] might make me tear it down,” he said.

With him, it’s personal--he doesn’t want to lose that sign. Its very existence is a tribute to his mother, who is fighting cancer.

“My whole identity is in this sign,” Saunderson said. “This lady managed to survive economic turmoil and the ups and downs of this city.” The sign, he said, symbolizes her resilience.

The tall image is a beacon to the past.

“This was the old [Highway] 101,” he said. “Everybody knew this glowing neon sign. It was a landmark. It’s been here 60 years. It just burns a hole in my stomach knowing someday I might lose this thing.”

That won’t happen if preservationists have their way.

Over at the historical society’s museum in the center of town, President Beverly Sels watches over high walls of old photos showing the city’s pioneer days in the early part of this century.

Sels and Rawlins are trying to get the word out to merchants about how they might safeguard their historic signs.

These were the signs motorists passed when Angelenos and others made a holiday of driving down to the races at Del Mar or to wild times in Tijuana.

Dana Point became a destination in the 1920s, when developer Sidney Woodruff sought to make it the garden of coastal living and a vacation venue.

A large promotional sign in his sales office depicted an idealized community, with the words “California’s New Recreational City/Destined to become the foremost seacoast community in California/At last the seashore home place you have been waiting for. . .”

Lanterns of various colors were hung from standards along the highway. The lights are the reason some streets today have names like Golden Lantern or Blue Lantern.

The lanterns have been replaced by modern though decorative street lights, but some of the old business signs are left to speak of vanished times, before the town grew and Dana Point Harbor brought more interest to the area.

Sels is fond of the signs and what they represent.

“They just remind me of what was, and how simple life was then,” she said.