Pioneer Memories: Joel Ward

Continuing on with the collected memories of several pioneers that were printed in a 1938 newspaper.

This particular one has much to do with the disappointing beginnings of Montrose in 1913. In 1938, when interviewed, Joel Ward owned the Lizbeth Candy Shop at 2250 Honolulu Ave., what is today Mayhall’s Sewing and Vacuum Center, at the corner of Honolulu Avenue and Market Street.

Joel Ward had apparently moved to the valley just before Montrose was created in 1913, initially living in the canyon in which Indian Springs resort was later constructed. Ward wrote: “It was in fact a wide open space and the Holmes-Walton company was subdividing that tract of land and making it into a ‘ritzy’ real estate development. The location as the junction of Verdugo, La Cañada and La Crescenta valleys, fringed with mountains, had seemed the logical place for a town. It had a combination of mountain, desert and ocean air and was above the fog. What other requirements were necessary? Hopes were running high in 1913.”

Yes, wide-open space indeed. A 1905 photo of the future Montrose shows a vast expanse of sagebrush with nary a tree, bordered on the south by the Sparr orchards. In 1910 the developers bought 250 acres of this seemingly worthless desert from Irene Briggs, the daughter of founder Dr. Benjamin Briggs. They hired crews of European immigrants to cut all the brush, pull out the stumps and clear the land right down to dirt. Rocks were stacked in huge piles for later use in new homes. The developers hired Joel Ward as their “resident manager” and so he was witness to the raw beginnings of the town.

Ward continues: “The acreage east of Ocean view was first developed, and Robert Walton [the developer] promoted the Oakmont Country Club whose original [office] site was … on Ocean View and Florencita. Lots were 100 feet wide and there was a building restriction of $3500. Streets were being laid out, paved and curbed, and a car line [electric trolley]  was serving the hamlet when along came the World War.”

As Europe plunged into WWI, the world economy was shaken. Ward wrote about the disappointing start to Montrose: “Banks began to refuse loans. People began to be frightened. The project went into the hands of receivers and the Colton Cement Company bid on it. It had furnished materials for the development, it was said.”

Sales were lukewarm at best through America’s entry into the war and the influenza pandemic that followed. The Holmes-Walton company was unable to follow through on their promise of a “ritzy” development. It was not until the 1920s that development in Montrose really took off.

And finally, Joel Ward added more juice to the twisted legend of the origin of the name Montrose: “Then came the question of a name and a contest was promoted and won by a woman from Montrose, Colorado, and Montrose, California was duly christened.”

It seems every time the story of the Montrose name origin was told in the past, a different story unfolds. This was a new one to me.

Local historian Robert Newcombe takes a deep dive into the origin of the name in his book “Montrose.” The stories are many. It was named so because of the rose pattern of Montrose’s street layout. It was named because there were so many rose-fanciers in the valley. It was named after Sir Walter Scott’s popular novel “The legend of Montrose.” It was named for someone’s hometown of Montrose, Pennsylvania.

Looking at old newspaper articles, Newcombe compares each naming story to what was reported at the time and finds every one of them suspect. Newcombe even surmises a new one: That each day as the developers traveled from their Los Angeles offices to the Crescenta Valley, they would have passed Montrose Street near Echo Park Lake. Maybe they just liked the name. Bottom line, probably no one will ever know the true story.

But if you love Montrose (and who doesn’t?) pick up the book “Montrose” by Robert Newcombe. It contains the stories Joel Ward tells, and many more, along with lots of vintage photos.