California Home Builder -- 1969 production home builder

Leonard Head (left) and Jerry, Big Bear Lake, CA, 1970

In 1969, I was hired by Kaufman & Broad, Inc. (K&B) to work as a pick-up carpenter on a recently-completed housing tract.  Within two months I was promoted to assistant superintendent for a new project much closer to home.

My first management job (albeit a low-level one) was the construction of a three-acre lake, four model homes, a sales office complex (which would later become a recreation center), and the first phase of 34 production homes on a parcel of land that had been the estate of movie producer Rowland V. Lee.

Becoming an assistant superintendent turned out to be a career-changing opportunity for me.  The superintendent I worked for had a lifetime's experience in production home- building, and he was more than an able teacher.  

He taught me the skills to schedule, coordinate, inspect, and report the activities for a residential housing project.  I also learned a great deal about grading and off-site improvements (streets, curbs, gutters, sidewalks, and utilities), not to mention how to build a lake.

In less than a year I was promoted again and replaced a superintendent on a nearly-completed first phase of a housing project built on another piece of land with a movie connection.  This time the previous owner had been comedian Jack Oakie.

I figured there would be great job security with K&B because they were just starting another phase.  I supervised the second phase construction of concrete slabs and some additional off-site work.   Then another recession hit.  In early 1970, I once again found myself looking for a job.  Little did I know at the time, that recessions and lay-offs would become a way of life in California's home-building industry.

After leaving K&B, I worked briefly as a finish carpenter foreman on an apartment project; when that job finished it was virtually impossible to find work.  At that time I owned a cabin site in the mountains at Big Bear Lake, so I thought I'd see if I could find work there.  When I got there I met another carpenter who had just taken a contract to frame a mountain cabin.  He needed help, so I went to work for him.  It soon became obvious that he was not a skilled carpenter.  In fact, he was so completely overwhelmed he quit, leaving me to finish the cabin framing alone.  I then hired my dad to work with me, and we continued framing cabins in Big Bear for the rest of the summer of 1970.

In the late fall, I returned to the San Fernando Valley and enrolled in Pierce College (under the GI bill).  I found a part-time job working for a remodeling contractor. 

I had stayed in touch with K&B, hoping to work for them again when the recession eased.  In early 1972, they hired me to be their Director of Customer Relations.  I handled the customer service matters for approximately 1500 homes (under warranty) in five southern California counties.  I managed a staff of 12 customer service employees, and I established a quality-control program.  I conducted field inspections on homes under construction, seeking to remedy problems leading to future customer complaints.  

I was still pretty young, and I had difficulty gaining the respect of one older field superintendent on a project about two hours away from the home office.  I had inspected several homes in the framing stage and advised him that the work was not acceptable.  He brushed me off stating he said he was busy now, and he'd take a look when he had time.  

Two days later the framing problems still had not been corrected.  I figured that would be the case, so I brought a single-jack (a short-handled 12 pound sledge hammer) with me.  In one house I proceeded to demolish framing that was unacceptable, then I drove to the field office and told the superintendent that I had "critiqued" the unacceptable framing on lot such and such.  

I got in my car and drove back to the home office.  When I got to the office the division president was waiting for me.  "What the h--- do you think you're doing?" he asked.  I explained to him that his lazy superintendent needed to inspect framing instead of just sitting in his field office holding court.  He laughed, and said keep up the good work.  The next several times I visited that job site I found the superintendent inspecting framing instead of hanging out in his field office :-)

California Home Builder -- 1956 apprentice carpenter to building contractor

My dad was a general contractor, who built custom homes and small commercial projects.  He had learned carpentry from his father, who had been a successful home builder in Detroit, Michigan, before the Great Depression.  During World War II dad worked at Douglas Aircraft Company where part of his job was as a (wood) jig and fixture builder.  After the war he worked briefly for another general contractor, and by 1946, he became a California licensed contractor.  In his early contracting years, he took labor contracts framing custom homes.  By 1951, he was building his own custom homes for sale.

I dearly loved my dad, but he was a difficult man to work for.  Growing up during the depression gave him a strong work ethic.  Being raised by a father who was an no-nonsense Englishman made him a stern disciplinarian.  Add to that, the fact that dad stood 5'-4".  Everything in life was a competition to him, so he was extremely hard to please.

In 1956, I began working for him after school, on weekends, and during every summer vacation.  He expected me to earn enough money to buy my own clothes and school supplies.  I learned a lot more than just a carpentry trade working for him because when work was slow, he'd hire me out to one of his subcontractors.  Over the years (at his apprenticeship) I worked for plasterers, brick masons, concrete contractors and framing contractors.

The most memorable work experience during my high school years was the summer of 1958.  Dad decided he could make more money if he had a one-sack cement mixer rather than paying the exorbitant prices for ready mix trucked from Fresno to Oakhurst.  He obtained a contract to build a motel, so I spent most of a summer feeding sand, gravel and cement into a enormous concrete mixer.  The good news was that the year before as a sophomore, I weighed a whopping 112 lbs. when I signed on for the school football team.  The beginning of my junior year--after shoveling the ingredients for ready mix and framing that motel--I weighed in at 150+ lbs.

Working for dad I learned to do concrete work, frame buildings (rough carpentry), and finish carpentry (hanging doors, installing wood windows, etc.).  We also did most our own sheet metal work, exterior lathing, insulation, and a plethora of other incidental trades.

In short, he taught me everything I needed to know to begin a career as a home builder.  I will ever be grateful for the training he gave me because it gave me the basics for a successful and lucrative career in the home building industry.  In 1966, dad made me a partner (albeit a junior one) in his contracting business.

During a recession In 1968,  dad's contracting work was extremely slow.  He took a job as a construction superintendent for a major home builder, and I went to work as a shipwright in the Long Beach Navy shipyard.  By 1969, I also found work for one of the nation's largest home builders, but that's the next chapter of my fifty-year career.

Cowboy Culture -- Six degrees of separation and Molesworth

In an earlier post I described my "Cowboy Chic" folk art furniture which had been inspired by the late Thomas C. Molesworth.  See Cowboy Chic -- Lure of the Dim Trails

http://a-drifting-cowboy.blogspot.com/2011/11/cowboy-folk-art-lure-of-dim-trails.html

In another early post I described the Iverson Ranch, which I have been researching and writing about for the past dozen years.  See A primer on the Iverson Movie Ranch

http://a-drifting-cowboy.blogspot.com/2011/11/primer-on-iverson-movie-ranch.html  in that post I told readers about my book Rendezvous at Boulder Pass--Hollywood's Fantasyland,  which examines the history of several filming locations in my hometown Chatsworth, California.  One of the locations to which I had devoted several pages was the Brandeis Ranch.

Page 261, Rendezvous at Boulder Pass - Hollywood's Fantasyland

I wrote the following about the Brandeis Ranch: 

What would eventually become known as the Brandeis Ranch was originally homesteaded in 1874 by Niels and Ann Johnson. In the book Pioneer Mother, Ann Johnson’s daughter Lenora J. MacDonald describes the difficulties of trying to farm on land covered with high dense chapparal. “As each acre was cleared,” she writes, “it was planted, then another acre was worked over and planted, then another and another, till the sixty acres of level land was covered with fruitful orchards, thriving vineyards, waving grain fields, luscious vegetables, and blossoming flowers.

After Ann Johnson's death, her sons and daughters kept the mountain home until 1929, when it sold to E. John Brandeis.  However, they held back twenty acres as a memorial to their father and mother, naming the place Fern Ann. Each member of the family had two or more acres.  Today the area is known as Fern Ann Falls.

E. John Brandeis (EJB) was the youngest son of Arthur D. Brandeis, President of J.L. Brandeis & Sons, a drygoods store located in Omaha, Nebraska.  It was the largest department store west of Chicago.  A 1929 newspaper article announced the construction of a half-million-dollar estate to be known as the Open Diamond Bar Ranch.   However, everyone, including the movie production companies, called it the Brandeis Ranch.

EJB was a forceful, energetic businessman with a penchant for outdoor sports, including tennis, polo, and big game hunting.  He traveled in elite social circles, rubbing elbows with movie stars and politicians alike.  When he wasn’t at his Chatsworth ranch or in Omaha on business, he was often on hunting expeditions in India, Africa, Alaska, or some other exotic place. His penthouse home in Omaha, where he stayed a few days every month, was decorated with taxadermied trophies of lions, tigers, rhinos, and bears.

He stocked his ranch with Kaibab deer from Utah, black buck deer from India, white deer from Russia, and a pair of antelope from the Pitchfork Ranch in Wyoming. On one occasion he imported a bison from Montana via railroad and truck.  The bison was supposed to be released high in the hills above the ranch where his sportsmen friends could hunt it; but when two hours of prodding couldn't get the bison out of the truck, in desperation, EJB shot it.

The ranch was located west of, and contiguous to, the Iverson Ranch.  The treeline in the opening scenes of the 1950s Lone Ranger TV Show was the dividing line between the upper Iverson Ranch and the Brandeis Ranch.

Gene Autry filming at Hickeyville the Western Street on the Brandeis Ranch

Ranch features included a bunkhouse, a caretaker’s house, and a poorly-constructed Western Street, which the local residents nicknamed “Hickeyville.” The Western Street, located in a canyon at Hialeah Springs about half a mile west of the Iverson Ranch entry road, is seen in John Wayne’s Winds of the Wasteland (1936) and in Gene Autry’s The Singing Cowboy (1936).  Filming on the ranch began in 1936 and concluded in the late 1940s. The ranch’s bunkhouse and caretaker's house made their final appearances in The Last Bandit (1947), starring Bill Elliott.

What I did not know when I researched and wrote about E. John Brandeis was that his penthouse home in Omaha was furnished with rustic Western furniture crafted by none other than Thomas C. Molesworth.  Last year (2011) I purchased a book titled Molesworth: The Pioneer of Western Design written by Terry Winchell, published in 2005.   Imagine my surprise when I turned to page 58, and read about the Brandeis Collection that Terry Winchell discovered in the penthouse home in Omaha in 1995!  I had visited Terry Winchell's Fighting Bear Antiques in Jackson Hole, Wyoming many times between 1987 and 1997 and was aware that he was actively searching for Molesworth furnishings.

In Terry Winchell's book, I discovered two of my life's passions (that I had devoted over 25 years studying) had a common link--Thomas Molesworth built furniture for millionaire E. John Brandeis who lived on the Brandeis Movie Ranch in Chatsworth, Califorrnia, my hometown and one of the subjects in my book.  Wow! Talk about six degrees of separation!

Meanwhile back at the ranch -- Hole in the wall

Meanwhile back at the ranch is a continuing series about "rock stars" (landscape features) on the old Iverson Movie Location Ranch in Chatsworth, California.  For more information see: http://a-drifting-cowboy.blogspot.com/2011/10/iverson-movie-location-ranch-chatsworth.html

All that remains of the shallow side canyon that ran east from the Iverson Gorge is the southern wall of that canyon--a background feature known as Hole in the Wall.  The recent photo above taken from within the Cal-West Townhomes shows the formation and the "hole" from which it gets its name.

There were several trails in and around the Hole in the Wall and the shallow canyon to its north.  In the screenshot (above) from California Mail (1936) (starring Dick Foran), a group of bad guys ride north out of the canyon with Hole in the Wall in the background.

The screenshot (above) from Bullet Code (1940) (starring George O'Brien) reveals a ledge with another trail part way up the canyon wall that forms Hole in the Wall.

Here's another screenshot (above) from an early Roy Rogers oater The Arizona Kid (1939).  A group of horsemen ride on the trail that comes out of the Iverson Gorge a little further west.

The screenshot above is from Dick Foran's Prairie Thunder (1937).  The wide shot is a good look at the shallow canyon below Hole in the Wall.

(above) A nice close-up shot of Dick Foran and his horse Smoke as seen in Trailin' West (1936).  For my money the Warner Brothers-produced Foran series are some of the best B-Westerns ever filmed on the Iverson Ranch.

This neat close-up of the Hole in the Wall (above) is from an unidentified episode of Stories of the Century TV show (1954).

If you go back and examine the first two photos in this blog post,  you'll see a vertical rock at the top of the Hole in the Wall formation (just look a little to the left of the hole).  The photo (above) was taken at the summit of Hole in the Wall (looking north).  That's the Ronald Reagan freeway in the background.

Here's what the hole looks like today.  This is also the backside looking north.

Here's a parting screenshot from California Mail (1936) showing a group of outlaws on the ledge half way up Hole in the Wall.

Western upholstery -- Cat hide seat

I'll never forget the first time I started to upholster a chair with hair-on cowhide.  I had found a supplier who had a huge selection of Brazilian tanned cowhides.  I really only needed one, but ended up with three hides for $600.  One would have been $230,  but he gave me a break on two more.  I would save the two extras  for future projects.  

As I was about to take a pair of scissors and cut a $200 hide into quarters. I took a deep breath before I began cutting.  A few hours later I had upholstered my first chair.  In time I got pretty good at the process--not bad for being a self-taught  upholsterer.  

Over the years I experimented with other leathers, including elk and deer skins.  I also became familiar with exotic leathers, such as buffalo, moose, ostrich, snake, sheep, goat, and even kangaroo, but never had a request for them.

I did encounter one decorator who asked for pony hide.  I discovered she was under the impression it was what she thought she had seen in my photo album.  When I told her I use cowhide.  that seemed to suit her fine.  Later I learned that pony hide actually is available, but how it is obtained really distressed me.

The race horse industry breeds certain mares to come into milk, so their milk can be used to nourish the foal of another more expensive mare.  The hide of the nurse mare's foal's is used as “pony skin” in the fashion and textile industries, and the meat is considered a delicacy in some foreign markets.

I really love horses, so using them to produce milk or urine (in the case of PMU mares that are kept pregnant for 10+ years, their urine sold to pharmaceutical companies to make hormone replacement drugs) doesn't set well with me.  

Cats on the other hand aren't quite as dear to my heart.  That's why after a double take at the chair (above) I briefly considered using cat hide for seats  or is it a cat hiding seat :-)

Just kidding, so please don't comment.  

The lazy, good-for-nothing cat on the chair (above) was given to me by a friend to help control a rat problem I was having in my barn.  The d____ed cat figured out how to use our dog's "doggie door," and he now comes and goes as he pleases (although he prefers to have a human door opened for him.  When he feels like it, he hunts at night, carrying in his prey and dumping it in my bathtub.  I can't decide if it's a trophy room, or it's just a convenient place to kill things because they can't escape.  Smart cat.

So far I've had to cleanup from rats, mice, lizards, rabbits, possums, moths, birds, and more birds.  He eats only the parts he likes.  The d___ cat is eight years old, and because we live where there are great-horned owls and coyotes, I figure he's probably used up about eight of his nine lives.  Maybe I'll get some peace one of these days soon :-)

Just kidding, so again, please don't comment.

British Legacy -- Zeppelin raid over Plumstead, England

Family legend has it that my great-grandfather Stephen John Head died in 1918, as a result of injuries received during a WWI German Zeppelin raid over Plumstead, Kent, England.

The story reports that he was a Civil Defense Warden, who had ushered everyone into an air-raid shelter except himself.  Supposedly he survived the air raid, but died later (October 14, 1918) as a result of the injuries received during the attack.

Plumstead was a bedroom community for the Royal Arsenal at Woolwich (southeast London).  Because the arsenal manufactured weapons and munitions, it was a high-level bombing target for German zeppelins.  The first zeppelin attack on Woolwich occurred on October 13, 1915.  Another attack came on August 26, 1916, when bombs also fell on other sites, along the River Thames including Plumstead, Eltham, Blackheath and Deptford.  A month later in September 1916, Woolwich and Plumstead were bombed again.  A German Zeppelin was seen hovering over the Arsenal's buildings dropping bombs; a couple bombs scored direct hits, causing massive explosions.  The last World War I zeppelin raid on Woolwich was on the night of May 19, 1918.  

Stephen John Head's son Stephen William Head (my grandfather), died during World War II.  My dad always believed his heart had failed because he worried about his sisters still living in England.

My family lost all contact with my grand aunts after the war.  I've never been able to locate any descendants of Stephen John Head's daughters.  The photo above is Nance, Flo, Connie, and Ethel, according to the notation  on the reverse side.  

Genealogy research has revealed the following facts: Annie Leighton "Nance" Head (1884-1950) married John F. Russell in 1927.  Florence Susannah "Flo" Head (1878-1950) married Henry Clements Walkem in 1908.  Constance May Austin Head (1880 - ?) married Jack Harris about 1902.  Ethel Mary Head (1877-1967) never married.

Not in the photo above are two other daughters: Lillian Mabel Head (1882 - 1971), who married Frederick Crawford in 1908, and Edith Maria Head (1887-1962), who married William H. Dumbrill in 1911.

Cowboy Wisdom -- Beware of shape-shiftin' trails

Because creeks have deposited alluvial sands for centuries, most of our canyon trails have sandy bottoms.  Over many years I've watched creek channels gradually move from one edge of a canyon to the other.  In fact during some of the El Niño winters I've seen creek channels move, and become four feet deeper and up to twenty feet wider in one winter.  I remember a trail crossing that changed from a gentle downslope to an abrupt four-foot drop almost overnight.

One of the canyon areas I ride a lot is at the confluence of Browns wash and Devil creek.  There's normally a lot of water flowing in both of those drainages immediate after a rain, so I've learned to avoid them.  After the water has had a chance to subside--usually about a week after the last hard rain--I'll venture into the area to see what changes have occurred.

Our canyons have a lot of willows growing in them.  Frequently branches fall and block trails.  Many times I've had to back track to find a new route.  Several years back I used to walk the canyons with an axe--but without my horse--just to clear obstructions.  I'm getting too old for that kind of hard work, so I just wait for the youngsters to blaze new linkages.

In 2008, a major brushfire burned through both Browns and Devil canyons, leaving plenty of dead and dying trees in its path.  In the fall and winter, our area also has Santa Ana winds, which are really strong and gusty.   Sometimes wind gusts reach 75 miles an hour.  I make it a practice to stay out of the canyons when it's windy because of potentially falling trees and flying objects that tend to spook even good horses.  Over the past three years--since the fire--dozens of trees have fallen, clogging trails.  So far nobody has been hit by a tree, but I figure it's just a matter of time.  

About two weeks ago Joyce and I rode through the lower end of Browns canyon skirting the eastern edge.  The trail was just find.  Yesterday we decided to ride the same trail, but from the opposite direction.  There hasn't been any rain for about a month and the creek bed was pretty dry.  I didn't think anything of it at first, but when we got a little deeper in the canyon I discovered our trail had become a gentle water course.  I figured that a fallen tree or landslide a bit further upstream had moved the channel, and that eventually the trail would be dry.  The creek should have been about thirty yards to the west, so I guessed the water would find its way back to the lower area and the existing channel.

The farther we got into the canyon we found water was still on our trail which by virtue of heavy horse travel was also a low spot.  I kept a close watch and figured we'd be fine, as long as the trail remained sandy.  We were almost at a point where we had to swing hard to the west to access an exit that leads up and out of the canyon.  Naturally just at this point, thick trees were on both sides of the trail, and we'd have to step over a fallen log.   I didn't like the looks of things because there was no sand under the fallen log, just wet black dirt.  I looked over the log and could see hoof prints that didn't appear to sink more than a few inches into the mud.  I asked my mare to step over the log, and as soon as she was over and had taken another step,  she sank in above her knees.  We were in trouble.  I immediately let her have her head.  She did as pretty a pirouette as the best Russian ballet dancer could do, and then literally leaped out of the bog and back over the log.  Although she is a big, strong girl, she was still lucky to get us out of that mess.

So this is one of those lessons learned from bad judgment.  Next time I find a shape-shiftin' trail that turns into a creek, I think I'll just turn around and go home the way I came.  The hole in my arm and the bruises (from trees) will heal in a week or two, but I'm afraid Kasidy (my mare) will be saying I told you so a lot longer than that :-)