Under Martha's expert tutelage, the historic Belle is the most recent iteration of the institution at 6917 Palm that has a long and storied past. I grew up 1.5 blocks away (27164 Pacific Ave) - and 6917 is dear to my heart - and part of my own history. And I am delighted that the creative Martha has steered the old place in the right direction - kudos to you, Martha.
First visited there (at the "Orange Cafe") as a 3-year-old in 1941 - it was a classic family restaurant - with mini-juke-boxes at every table. Was with my Navy officer dad. Dad & I had lunch, he ordered a beer, I asked to sample it - it tasted horrible. Got home, told (somewhat straight-laced) Mom. She disapproved, Dad entered the doghouse.
Somewhere in the Forties, "Fuzzy" Lawson took over the place. Fuzzy was a serious curmudgeon - he was usually grumpy. My next-door neighbor boys (Gene and John McNown) and I exacerbated his grumpiness - we often climbed up on the roof and ran back and forth noisily. Little pieces of the ceiling would fall out and drop on customers. About 1950 we apparently triggered Fuzzy's paranoia - there was a burglary - and he blamed us. (But we three little angels were innocent!).
Fast forward to 1961 - I'm fresh out of the Army Security Agency. (Had been a Russian linguist eavesdropping on the Russians at the East German border). I have a tiny studio apartment upstairs in the old brick building across the street - above the old hardware store's location. At 6917 I run a tab, eat most of my meals there. Not long thereafter I start working at the old Highland Post Office just down the street. I deliver the mail for 6917 - and my mail-carrier posse and I hang out there every night after work. By now the food operation has started to shrink, in favor of more stress on the bar. Clientele typically includes agri-workers, citrus ranchers, students, bikers, etc. There's a long Shuffleboard along the south wall, and an old upright piano at the wall's westernmost end.
Shortly thereafter 6917 becomes the Bella Highland, run by a genial gent named Steve. I'm now at Valley College working 3 part-time jobs. So early Sunday mornings I work at Winfield Bailey's newspaper agency on Highland Ave - rolling newspapers for delivery. Then I go to the Bella Highland to play janitor. Steve is generous - says "Mick - drink and snack as much as you want." So I take his advice. Well-oiled after a few hours of work and beers I sit down and bang on the piano for an hour or so when work is done.
I buy and customize a mint-condition 1955 Pontiac Chieftan 2-door sedan - I drive it proudly for three months. Then, heading home from a party in Redlands, I drive it upside down on Boulder Avenue close to Base Line. The car is slowing down from 100 MPH - it rolls 3 times, mowing down 600 feet of highway perimeter fence. Despite having no seat belts, I walk away from the totaled vehicle with just a scratch on the hand - and I hitch-hike to the Bella Highland. Steve is working that night.
Following Steve's advice I reluctantly call the cops. I report the accident - and they agree to meet me @ the cafe for an interview. Steve says "You gotta try to sober up before they get here" and starts pouring coffee down me. Two hours later - a cop arrives. I am sober by now, but I make the mistake of admitting I had "one" beer before I assaulted the highway fence. AAA cancels my insurance, but at least I'm not charged with a classic DUI. Will always appreciate Steve's fatherly support that night. I was 24 but still had a lot of growing up to do.
Then seven years or so ago my son and I visit Highland and my old home at 27164 Pacific Avenue. The street looks so different - where have all the trees gone? We go to the Belle for a couple of beers. We meet the charming and energetic Martha, who totally captivates us. She and I swap stories. The nostalgic memories flood into my brain - I can feel tears lurking just behind my eyes. Back when I lived in Highland and hung out at 6917 I wish I had realized that those were "the good old days" - I might have savored them even more.
Sorry this entry is a little verbose - but hopefully it does justice to the big space that 6917 occupies in my heart.
Mick Beeson - Yountville, Ca.
AKA Michael Brien Beeson, MSW
(retired Psychiatric Social Worker) read more