While researching our Isla Vista story a while back, we learned a lot of housing development names that were new to us. But one in Goleta called Fairfield caught our attention. What happened to Fairfield?
In the mid 1920s, there was a real estate boom in southern California. Major oil discoveries created jobs and a healthy economy. Add to that Hollywood’s growing popularity and some aggressive real estate promotions and the population of Los Angeles went from 570,000 in 1920 to 1.2 million by 1930. And the real estate craze made it as far north as little Goleta.
The first mention of Fairfield we can find is from the Fall of 1928. And it’s a pretty confusing description of the location. It tells us it is located on Fairways Avenue, south of Goleta. Evidently, the developer didn’t really notice the street his next big project was on was called Fairview not Fairways. Who was this developer anyways? Well that question took us on quite a journey….
The developer was this handsome young chap names Joseph McManus. McManus came from a wealthy east coast family and had been living in Pasadena trying to make it as a composer. Around 1916 he ventured up to Montecito and started playing piano and singing at high society gatherings and he was met with great enthusiasm. Soon he was playing at all the most exclusive galas, entertaining such distinguished guests as Pearl Chase. This ad is for a gig at the Belvedere Hotel, which was the recently renamed Potter Hotel.
At one of these events, the younger sister of his wealthy hostess began singing with McManus and before long they were a very popular duet. His place in the upper crust was cemented when he married this very wealthy young woman with a “soprano voice of rare charm”. They moved into a little bungalow they called “Montresor” on the Coast Highway at the foot of Ortega Hill. The newlyweds were kept busy entertaining the local movers and shakers. The McManus duo became so popular locally, Joseph and his new bride decided to move to New York City to try and make it big.
McManus found limited success in the Big Apple but not enough to keep him there. They were gone for a couple of years before they came back to their little Montecito bungalow and started a family. The talented couple continued to perform as a duet around town with rave reviews, but by the end of 1919, McManus had some other business plans brewing…
A small announcement stated that McManus had acquired a city block from Berylwood Investment Company. Berylwood was the development company owned by the family of the recently deceased Senator Thomas Bard. The Bard’s were very involved in the development of Santa Barbara and Ventura counties and McManus must have made a connection with Richard Bard, the Senator’s son that had taken over running the business. Maybe Mr. Bard was a fan of his music?
Joseph McManus the musician became a real estate agent. On December 6th, 1919, he opened a three day sale of Boulevard Heights, 36 “bungalow lots” on the eastside of Santa Barbara, near the location of Franklin School today. The neighborhood name reflected the location being near the newly named King Albert Boulevard, which is today’s lower Alameda Padre Serra Road. The sale could be called a huge success because by the end of the week, only a few lots were left.
His first foray into real estate had been such a quick success, McManus was at it again by the end of 1920. This time the subdivision was called Hollister Heights. (Evidently being elevated was desirable.) This development was on Hollister Avenue, just beyond the city limits at the time. McManus bought it from the H.G. Chase Company, his socialite friend Pearl’s family business. This subdivision was one block beyond Alamar, near the new Samarkand Hotel and contained 60 parcels, covered with oaks and eucalyptus. Notice at the top of this flyer McManus the musician boldly proclaims, “I am real estate”. It would appear he had found his new purpose in life.
Then early in 1921, he acquired another parcel to be subdivided and sold. He was all in. He was “Real Estate”! This one was right on “Milpas Boulevard” as he called it, very close to the first parcel. Unfortunately these two sales didn’t go as great as the first one. They sold, but at a much slower rate.
And by this third subdivision, the project name wasn’t quite as intriguing. No more “Heights”, this one was “El Bilda Home tract”, which, as far as we could tell, means literally nothing. But it sounds kind of Spanishey. Kind of like Isla Vista. While his first project sold out within a couple weeks, the next two lingered on the market for over a year. In addition to slower sales, the Hollister Heights had some complications getting water hookups. So McManus was running into a few speed bumps on his new real estate career.
But all the while, he kept playing music. Real Estate by day, music by night. When he wasn’t subdividing parcels and hyping sales, he was playing piano and entertaining the creme de la creme of Santa Barbara elites and businessmen. He was still trying to get that music career off the ground…
In 1926, Joseph had another problem. His little “Montecito bungalow” at the foot of Ortega Hill was going to get bulldozed for the re-alignment of the State Highway. After multiple warnings and orders, McManus refused to move.
The state had bought out all the other residences in the right of way but McManus played hard ball. While he valued his home at $35,000, the State had offered him $1140. After a long hard legal battle, the McManus family was paid $11,000, allowed to move their house to another location, and retain ownership of the strip of land between the highway and the railroad tracks.
All the while, the talented couple just kept entertaining at their home with bulldozers looming right outside.
This is the finished product in 1927. A new straightened highway through Ortega Hill.
While he was fighting the State and still tickling the ivories for guests, McManus decided to start another development. This time a little further south in Carpinteria.
In his words, ” There is a pronounced home famine in Carpinteria.” And he was just the guy to fix it…
Meanwhile, in the city council chambers, a farmer named Gus Meyer was trying to help Santa Barbara with their garbage problem. They were spending way to much on their trash removal and Gus wanted to help by picking up the garbage from restaurants, hotels and the hospital, and dumping it at his hog farm out in Goleta. He had been taking the garbage from Hope Ranch, the Miramar and the Biltmore for a while, but he was looking to expand his slop intake. Amazingly, dumping garbage at hog farms was fairly common practice for years, but eventually the rats, flies and odors became too much to continue the practice. Additionally, the pigs developed trichinosis and people began to get sick when they ate undercooked pork that had been fed garbage. So why do we bring this up?
Our singing developer was about to subdivide this Goleta hog farm and make a killing of his own. Or so he thought.
Meyer’s hog farm was nestled down an unpaved Fairview Avenue, between the Goleta slough and the San Jose creek. It was basically a swamp with a dump in it. When it rained, it was a quagmire of smelly, polluted mud. Location, location, location…
Another unique feature of this location was it sat right across from the Santa Barbara Packing House. A busy and successful slaughterhouse that had an aroma that liked to drift. But McManus was confident this hog farm could be a big seller because he had what he thought was an ace in the hole. So he worked out a deal with Gus Meyer and got to work subdividing.
McManus knew that in Goleta, there was an oil boom just starting up. Money and jobs were flowing from the Ellwood Mesa, and all signs were that there was much more oil to be had underneath the Goleta soil.
Some savvy local developers started including oil well residuals and mineral rights to new developments to make them more desirable. This was first done at Isla Vista, but others liked the idea and copied them. McManus decided to follow suit and he even brought in a partner on the deal named Frank Foy.
McManus drew up nine cul-de-sacs with 40 foot wide lots and called the new community the “Fairfield Tract”. He gave the streets proper names like Daley, Mathews, Olney, Carson, Placencia, etc. and set out to sell the lots off.
McManus put his tried and true advertising machine into motion. What could go wrong? It was right on the way to the beach, with oil riches soon to start pouring in….
What could go wrong, did. No oil was found. No Black Gold. Nada. In fact, Fairfield was sitting on top of a big natural gas bubble. They sold a few lots and a couple of houses were even built, but as always, it’s about location. An old hog farm across the street from a smelly slaughterhouse and backing up to the San Jose Creek that flooded regularly, this was about as far from being a fair field as you could get.
Sales were not happening anything like they had with most of Joseph’s other deals, so he went all in and wrote a special song about Fairfield. Oh how we would love to hear the lyrics to the Fairfield Foxtrot….
But there were more problems. Since the lots weren’t selling, McManus and Foy didn’t have the money to pay off Gus Meyer, and Gus was not a patient man. He was recently arrested for threatening a business partner with a pitchfork and he was known to sue and be sued. Meyer went after McManus hard just a few months after closing the deal.
Less than a year after creating the tract, McManus and Foy bailed out. Gus Meyer took control of the subdivision and continued trying to sell them, but he didn’t have the popularity or the flashy sales technique of McManus and company.
By 1929, Meyer had managed to sell some lots on his own and homes were slowly being built, but it was not an exclusive neighborhood like McManus would like to be associated with.
This image shows where everything was located in 1930. The brand new original two hangars in the upper left, Old Town which was at this time called Goleta Center and the slaughterhouse.
This map from 1935 shows how Fairview used to continue down to Goleta Beach. That road now dead ends, but it still has several businesses on it and is still called south Fairview.
By 1938 still very little of Fairfield had been developed.
WWII brought a lot of changes to the airport area, but the Fairfield tract was mostly left alone. But one change to the airport layout would later have a devastating effect on part of Fairfield.
This 1944 shot shows a new runway the Marines built called Runway 25. While the effect was not immediate, the increasing air traffic in coming years would prove to be a problem. Note the military aircraft and hangars in the lower left.
This classic photo shows a Goleta resident walking up Fairview near the Fairfield tract.
Despite the new runway, and the occasionally swamp like environment, the lure of affordable housing was enough for people to keep building on lots in Fairfield. By the mid 1950s you can see quite an increase in the amount of houses there. In fact, a group of residents formed the Fairfield Tract Improvement Association to cleanup and improve their living conditions. They met with county supervisors to see if they could get any help.
But the local government agencies had a whole different idea. In fact, a new plan was developing that would actually eliminate part of the neighborhood completely. This 1956 map shows all the street names still intact on paper at least. Daley, Matthews, Olney, Cloer, Carson, Avion, Payaro, Placencia, and Corta streets.
By 1959, the city started talking about an “air easement” over Fairfield and the airport began putting setting aside funds for acquiring the lots adjacent to Runway 25. Slowly the houses across from Runway 25 began to disappear.
By the mid 1960s the houses were almost all cleared out. The city of Santa Barbara had now annexed the land making it part of the city. On a side note, check out the Guppy in the circle.
Late 1960s and most of the easement is clear. Below the easement, a cluster of small houses and industrial buildings continued to exist on Placencia. And right next to them was the new Twin Screen drive in theater, in the lower right.
By 1970, the street names under the easement ceased to exist and that section was placed withing the city of Santa Barbara’s boundaries.
And if you look closely at a modern map, you can see the small bulb out at Fairfield added to the existing shoestring annexation of the airport.
Today the area that Santa Barbara took over is occupied by nothing but some small, brightly colored airport buildings. And thanks to the redirection of the San Jose Creek when they built the Ward Memorial, it isn’t a swamp anymore!
The rest of Fairfield is a busy and thriving mix of homes and businesses.
And the McManus street names are still in use.
Driving through Fairfield has a different feel when you know the whole story.
It’s interesting to look at the little houses, some that have been converted into businesses, and think about how it was in the first days of the Fairfield tract.
No longer a hog farm or a swamp, this part of Fairfield actually lives up to its name. But what happened to our singing developer?
He kept on doing what he loved. Writing songs and selling real estate. Right up until his death in 1950.
And so the developer/musician’s poetic license has finally been fulfilled.
At least part of the tract truly is, just a Fair Field…