The neighborhood airstrip that time nearly forgot
By Tom Leech
Mission Valley News
November 14, 2014
I arrived
here from the Midwest about five decades ago to work in aerospace out in
Kearny Mesa. In those days, Mission Valley had a far different look and
style than today.
Interstate 8 had
not arrived yet, and red lights at Texas Street, Murphy Canyon Road and
College Avenue (if memory serves me correctly) controlled traffic on the
two lanes heading both directions on old Highway 80.
Mission Valley Center had
recently been activated, with fields of cattle still providing a steady
farm scent as you drove east from the center. It was a smell that
reminded me of the considerable time I spent out on grandma’s farm,
where the dairy cows were regular participants. I recall giving a speech
to my College Area Toastmasters Club about the value of those farm
critters to the atmosphere of what was slowly becoming a fast developing
Mission Valley.
One other memory,
though this one was in the vague category, was knowing about the
airstrip that was out there somewhere near the State College (not
University yet). Yes, there was an airstrip out there, sort of on the
mesa east from Fairmount Avenue, and occasionally you could see a small
plane arriving or departing from up there. I never actually did see the
airstrip, but clearly one had to be up there.
As the years
passed, so did those small airplanes, and eventually none were
appearing, so presumably that airstrip was inactivated. It was not a
major factor in the region’s transportation system, so little was said
or written about it.
Fast forward to
recent times. I’ve asked a few cronies from back there about that
airstrip in the eastern part of Mission Valley and no one seems to have
any recollection.
“How could there have been an air field out in the San Diego State area? That makes no sense,” is sort of a typical response.
Well, the facts are
that yes, there was an airstrip out there. By poking around with the
search buttons, a few tidbits can be found, and the story has some
tantalizing tidbits about it.
You’ve likely read
about some religious folks who believe someday, maybe soon, a major
league “rapture” will occur and the select few will fly off up into the
far sky somewhere to hook up with a major vessel waiting for them (check
the several popular books by former San Diegan Tim LeHaye for
specifics).
Back in the 1930s
and early 1940s, a leader of a Jehovah’s Witnesses group had similar
thoughts about major destruction and when a cataclysmic event would
occur. According to this leader, an important spot where a select few
would survive was a section of land on that mesa west of today’s San
Diego State. He built a special “compound” of several structures on that
barren land and waited — and waited. Finally, after he died and the
major shakeup did not occur, the land was sold and an air field arrived.
The religious
leader was Joseph Rutherford, who in 1917 was elected second president
of the Watchtower Bible & Tract Society, a Jehovah’s Witnesses
leadership group with its main headquarters in Brooklyn, New York. In
1929, Rutherford was able to get the San Diego land and built a mansion:
Beth Sarim, the “House of the Princes,” who were a group of biblical
religious icons. The larger property was known as Beth Shan (a Hebrew
holy city mentioned in the Bible). Rutherford wintered in San Diego,
driving to and fro with his two 16-cylinder Cadillacs, and enjoying the
good life of San Diego with an oft-consumed alcohol supply (he was
well-known for a well-flavored lifestyle) and a workforce at the ready.
After some time,
Rutherford was offered $75,000 for the 100 acres; however, he could not
sell it because he had placed the property in the name of the Princes.
He died in 1942, and after considerable legal wrangling the land was
sold in 1948.
The buyers were a
husband-wife team of professional aviators who saw another valuable use
for that large flat area on the mesa. Brewster “Bud” Gillies had been a
vice president of Grumman Aircraft Engineering Corp. With the start of
World War II, pilots of the male type were in demand to fly U.S.
military aircraft being cranked out in increasingly large numbers, which
created a problem for Grumman and other aircraft companies that needed
personnel to test their planes and deliver them to various locations.
Gillies believed that hiring women pilots was a viable solution to these
problems, and he was a key player in achieving that result.
His wife, Betty
Gillies, helped tremendously. In 1939, she became president of the
Ninety-Nines, the International Women Pilots Association. The
Ninety-Nines was founded in 1929 and by 1940 had become a strong network
with more than 400 women pilots. The group, and Gillies in particular,
was working hard to create new flying possibilities and to remove the
restrictions imposed on women flyers. In 1942, she was the first pilot
to qualify for the Women’s Auxiliary Ferrying Squadron. In March of
1943, she became the first woman to fly the P-47 Thunderbolt fighter
aircraft. (I was a big fan of that aircraft, arguing with my pals about
which fighter was best.) She ferried various aircraft within the
continental United States including the B-17 bomber, the P-38 fighter
and others.
After some careful,
progressively more-involved phases, Bud Gillies’ efforts were supported
by Grumman, and soon women became test pilots on Grumman Hellcat
fighter airplanes and key players for many previously male-only aviation
roles. (The famous pilot Jacqueline Cochran became president of the
Ninety-Nines in 1941.)
With the end of the
war, the Gillies arrived in San Diego and made an offer to the
Jehovah’s Witnesses for that puzzling piece of land on the mesa. After
more legal finagling, the Gillies got the land and the state of
California issued an airport permit, dated Sept. 30, 1949, authorizing
the Gillies to construct and operate a Class S-I Airport on their new
land. Little info exists about the airstrip’s operation.
Residential
development began in 1948 on an adjoining section of that mesa. Lots
were for sale north of the airstrip, according to a history of Alvarado
Estates. They went for $5,000. Marketing materials noted that you could
fly in and out with your own plane, then taxi it over to your own lot
and house. How many new developments could offer that benefit? After a
while that was no longer seen as a benefit, and following further
development, the airstrip was shut down in 1965. On that same space,
another set of lots was set up, thus replacing the planes with luxury
housing.
Greg Lambron is a
local attorney who grew up in Alvarado Estates and has written articles
for the Estates Community about those early arrangements.
“I would often see
the small planes, such as Cessnas, flying in and out,” he said. “The
Gillies lived in the house that had been the Jehovah’s Witnesses
compound. They were friends with my dad and we’d often head down to the
Town & Country for lunch.”
The Gillies lived
there until the mid-1960s, then moved up to Rancho Santa Fe. Greg’s
family moved into that same house in 1967.
“As a kid I’d often
see older people, some wearing overcoats, looking at our house and
asking ‘Is this the Temple?’ My dad would say it was not.”
Today, Alvarado
Estates is a major locked-gate community up from Montezuma Road onto
Yerba Santa Drive. A few blocks east is another compound, a hugely
active institution called San Diego State University. And the Gillies’
airstrip is remembered only by a few — mainly those living right there.
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A landing strip is evident in the upper center of this 1953 aerial
submitted by Bob Richardson '61. That's Fairmount Drive at
the far left and Montezuma Drive running across the bottom.
I lived in Alvarado Estates from around 1961,
when my parents built our house on the one-acre lot on the corner of
Yerba Santa and Mesquite Road. I think it was 4951 Yerba Santa
Drive. It has been redone many times since we left and is a huge
mansion with tennis courts, a swimming pool and garages I know
about the landing strip, as we still saw it when I lived there. No
one used it but it was there for several years until more land was sold
and houses built. My parents, Janet and Howard Koosed, were
one of the first to build there. The Alessio family lived across
the street very quietly in retirement with their daughter, who was best
friends with my youngest sister Marla Koosed -- Laurayne Koosed Ratner ’65
My parents were some of the first residents of Alvarado Estates.
We moved there in 1956 when I was six. Our house was built close
to the airstrip. Our address was 4704 Yerba Santa Drive. My
father was Convair's chief experimental test pilot. I
used to play on the airstrip with my friends, collecting pretty rocks
and getting out of the way when planes landed. I remember when my
brother Paul built a large model remote-controlled airplane and flew it
on the airfield -- Ann Germeraad Cline '68
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