(Remember, I wrote this piece in 1977, and, yes, I admit to doing a “little” editing. I had arrived on the Coastside a few years earlier and it was love at first sight. I’m still in love.)
Even though the writing was on the wall, the cat was on the roof–the automobile was more reliable and faster than the old-fashioned Ocean Shore Railroad–employees of the Ocean Shore Land Co. continued trimming trees and planting fresh flowers in their showplace called Granada.
But soon the beds of flowers would wilt because the predictions were wrong. The San Francisco 1906 Earthquake & Fire did send people in search of safety but they gravitated to the Peninsula–and not Granada.
Even worse, from the Ocean Shore’s point of view, San Francisco quickly rebuilt itself–leading to rumors that the Coastside had been prematurely cut up.
Very few vacation homes or permanent residences were actually built in Granada leaving acres of open land that had been subdivided into small, narrow lots. Some lot owners defaulted on payments and the lots reverted to the Ocean Shore’s real estate subsidiary. [By then the land company had overextended itself and was forced to also default].
the passengers were greeted by Mr. Dannman, “the saloon man” at Shelter Cove (?).
Here E.H. Dannman (the cute little man in the center) poses with Rudy Brandt (at far left) and Lorin Silleman (at far right). Photo courtesy of railroad historian John Schmale.
I actually met Rudy Brandt, whose father had invested in Ocean Shore Railroad stock and did not take the eventual bankruptcy well.
Rudy Brandt was a real character; in the 1970s he lived in a spartan room or apartment in the Tenderloin in San Francisco and always carried a handgun with him. His life was centered on the Ocean Shore Railroad and he had a great collection of vintage photographs.
Rudolph Brandt is featured in my documentary “The Mystery of Half Moon Bay.” To view the show, click here
(Photo: The railroad’s freight yard at Granada–which I consider a kind of 3rd station because I’m sure passengers did get off there.)
Two years later in 1918 the Ocean Shore Railroad had turned into a dinosaur.
Why?
Many reasons: Devil’s Slide could not be conquered. The engineering work that had been done there by the Ocean Shore Company, the dynamiting through the “rock” barriers, had not solved the problem of the Coastside’s classic isolation.
More and more often– as the train passed through– boulders rolled onto the tracks–and if the rocks were too big to clear quickly– the train was forced to back up all the way to Pacifica.
But that wasn’t so bad because the friendly saloon owner was ready to serve the stranded passengers rounds of stiff drinks, sometimes keeping them there all night long.
Story by Melody Mello –to visit her website, click here
(Photo: Melody with her dad, Melvin Mello)
Melvin Mello was my sunshine. What we had will never die. I am most proud to say that I had such a wonderful father that it was better short-lived than not at all. Mel lived to work hard and socialize. He was a doer. Since our time together was in short spurts I made sure it was quality by âsqueezing outâ? every ounce of emotion he had. It evolved into a mutual exchange that enriched us both.
Things people may not have known about him are: he was more Liberal than he seemed, was fond of The Chinese and their cuisine, absolutely loved music, mostly Country and had a particular interest in lyrics, he sang, was an artist: his welding sculptures bore a striking resemblance to the Picasso pieces I viewed in Paris (he had no idea), he teared up whenever he worried about me and while watching Little House on the Prairie, loved nature, animals, family, and human beings with all his soul.
This man was not happy without physical labor involved in his life, which he had been intimate with growing up in the Central Valley and HMB.
Mel was born in Tracy, CA in 1930 to immigrant parents from The Azores, Portugal and Genoa, Italy. He was intensely proud of his heritage, using âthe Old Countryâ? in his references frequently. He was nicknamed, Tweetie by his brother who could not pronounce âlittle sweetieâ?. The name stuck as many people still refer to him as such.
He farmed linseed crops and dairy cattle. I was told he would fall asleep in school due to the early milking hours. He started dating my mother young, while residing in Pescadero/La Honda. He did well in Junior Rodeo so it is said. He was a horseman, a rodeo clown later in life, did not like to hunt or fish and was a horrible golfer!
A no-frills, down- to- earth; reap what you sew, eye for an eye kind of guy. He connected to his God and I saw that church was a special place for him, but he told me you donât need to go there to be a Godly person, just be a good person. He was. He helped everyone. Even strangers. If he paid you a visit, you almost always were surprised with some lovely produce or plants.
Dad loved to tell long, detailed jokes, mostly with a racial overtone about Italians, but no one was spared. I was taught and he modeled total love and acceptance for everyone. No negative judgment at all. If anything, he admired many things about different cultures and communicated this often.
Melvin loved Half Moon Bay and would take the opportunity to tell everyone he met he was from there. He was a volunteer fireman before I was born. His profession was as an agricultural Inspector for San Mateo County. He was mayor of Half Moon Bay for several terms during the course of my life, started the Pumpkin Festival with others, a member of City Council, belonged to I.D.E.S., a President of the San Mateo County Fair Board, The Farm Day Luncheon, San Mateo County Visitorâs and Convention Bureau, and many other things I know Iâm forgetting or never realized.
Vacations were not at the top of his list. He would rather stay local to work the land on his property in San Gregorio or drive one of his dune buggies.
One of his favorite stunts was to bring home a different strange vehicle every so often. Sometimes they were difficult to identify! I would be given a ride to my job at a fashion boutique as a teen in HMB by standing on a forklift he would drive at 20 MPH down Hwy 1. All the way people he knew would honk and heâd wave.
These are endearing memories I treasure. This is love. A time or two he picked me up in a semi. What a guy.
He took me to many political and social events that empowered me to come out of my shell; being the shy child I was and shaped me into the woman I am.
Mel admired many colleagues and politician friends and would describe their philosophies to me with a glow in his eyes. His eyes twinkled when he spoke of things that interested him and heâd have this big, open-mouthed grin. At other times he was in distant thought, most likely regrouping. I have his passion.
The last day with my dad was spent celebrating his life and career at his retirement dinner in Half Moon Bay. It was great. On the video we could say a few words and mine was that I hoped heâd know my future children. That did not come true, but I had a beautiful relationship with my father that I can pass on to them.
You cannot separate Melvin Mello and Half Moon Bay. The two are married.
[Melvin Mello passed away on August 29, 1991. He was 61.]
[Photo below, Melody Mello] Melody spent several years in the European travel business, writing music and singing in bands. Currently married and a happy stay at home mother.
Another popular place was the El Granada Hotel–which once stood in front of, and was originally part of the El Granada Motel [now the site of apartments]. Although 17 stats had voted for Prohibition by 1916, California had not, and liquor flowed freely on the Coastside, and at the El Granada Hotel. There guests danced to tunes provided by the Half Moon Bay Orchestra.
[The red haired madam Maymie Cowley, who is believed to have built the Miramar Beach Inn about this time, also owned the El Granada Hotel. Maymie was a streetwise gal from the MidWest and she cashed in on the Prohibition to come to the Coastside].
