Friday, December 17, 2010
Let's rent some fun
Friday, November 5, 2010
Faithful Clock Keeps on Ticking
No matter what you did to a Timex watch, it seemed to keep on running. Some of you may even remember those "torture" test commercials ("Timex - it takes a licking and keeps on ticking"). Delighted TV viewers would watch their flickering screen in amazement as the iconic clock survived the high diver's leap into water, the hoof of a galloping horse, or a propeller blade in the water.
Keeping Time
Maybe it hasn't been quite so dramatic in Beaumont when it comes to keeping track of the hour. But we've all heard the famous expression, "Time stands still for no one." Perhaps it's never been truer than for the old clock in the heart of our city. For nearly a half century, we've driven right by it, glanced up, noted the hour and most likely just kept going about our business.
But in our hustle-bustle lives, do we ever take the time to wonder about that old clock and its significance? Or those big, black hands with tiny arrows that precisely count the minutes and hours of our lives?
Sure, we know that many small towns across America have a tall clock somewhere in the city square. But our clock near the steps of the Civic Center has it's own story, one that deserves telling.
Clock Details
Here's what the Beaumont Blogger knows about the clock that has stood sentry-like for decades.
Nearly a half century ago, the local Soroptimist Club embraced the idea of creating a community clock for Beaumont. On December 23, 1963, dedication ceremonies were held at Beaumont Avenue and Sixth Street - the clock's original location. Over the years, the clock became a fixture. When a car knocked the clock over, people rallied around. They had it meticulously restored and moved to City Hall, where rededication ceremonies were held October 2, 1998.
Today, the face of the clock stares out at passing traffic along the main drag through town. As the seconds, minutes, hours, days, months and years tick by, the clock remains a steadfast symbol of Beaumont's timeless small-town spirit.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Unlocking the Mystery of Gravity Hill
During the 1970s, Mike Thompson and his buddies would have fun testing the spot on Oak Glen Road. They would pile into a car in downtown Beaumont, head north into the mountains and wait to be amazed. This was small-town fun at its finest on Friday and Saturday nights.
Coasting to glory
The boys had the routine down pat: Come to a stop, put the car in neutral, let off the brakes, and within moments, the car seemed to be miraculously rolling uphill and gathering speed. There were hoots and cheers, but not because the laws of physics had suddenly been suspended in the San Gorgonio Pass. No, this was a contest with bragging rights!
You see, the boys were trying to see how far they could coast—even if they had to tap the brakes a few times as they rounded tight corners. This was a time of heavy cars and little traffic in the Pass—and sometimes they would go far! Thompson remembers careening through Cherry Valley before gliding right up to the old Alpha Beta on Beaumont Avenue—a five mile run from Gravity Hill. (A few years ago, the supermarket was torn down and replaced by a new Stater Bros.)
Deepening mystery
Over the years, the attraction and myth of Gravity Hill grew along with the hometown coasting contests. That place seemed to intrigue and even mystify the locals. But with the teenage years so full of merriment, it always seemed that answers could wait. Besides, why ruin such a fantastic legend and spoil the fun?
Still, as he grew older, Mike Thompson found himself occasionally drawn to the “mystery of Gravity Hill.” It nagged at him. When the Beaumont Blogger asked him to relive his teenage years by going up to Gravity Hill and making one final run, well, he just couldn’t resist. Thompson grabbed his carpenter’s level and headed for the spot at 12849 Oak Glen Road.
“This is something that I always wanted to do,” he said.
Looking for answers
Was the celebrated spot an optical illusion or a true life mystery? Or were magnetic or even supernatural forces at work? The phenomenon has been reported around the world in almost every culture—some places just seem to defy the laws of nature. Experts say the layout of the surrounding landscape produces an optical illusion that tricks us into believing that a very slight downhill slope is actually uphill. And so, a car left out of gear will appear to be rolling uphill against gravity’s pull. Scientists say the most important factor contributing to this illusion is a completely or mostly obscured horizon. Without the horizon for a reference point, it becomes very difficult to judge the slope of a surface.
Solving a mystery
Thompson wanted to know if the seemingly matter-of-fact explanations made sense. He placed his level on the ground and carefully tested the roadway at three points. He uses the tool everyday as a construction superintendent, and it never lies. Thompson stood up, grabbed the level, and carried it like a walking stick. After nearly 40 years, he had his answer to the secret of Gravity Hill.
“You’re actually going downhill,” he concluded. “But it looks like you’re going uphill.” His words came out softly though, as if to protect the mystery for all time.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
The Beacon

Monday, September 20, 2010
Silent Oak
Gathering spot
As a Beaumont High School student in the late 1940s, Evelyn Salley (now Olson), remembers piling into cars with her friends and driving Cherry Valley’s twisty roads way up to the “old oak tree.” Her daughter Karen Thompson, now the City Clerk of Beaumont, took those same roads in the 1970s with her own friends as did her future husband, Mike Thompson. Mother and daughter say the oak tree has been part of growing up in Beaumont for generations now.
Over the decades, little has changed about the teenage ritual of gathering ‘round the giant oak tree. Young people park in a circle around the tree—whether they were driving big, heavy Fords and Chevrolets in the late 1940s or tooling around in 1970s “muscle cars” like the Chevelle SS or Olds 442. Like a scene from a James Dean movie, teenagers would go from car to car as they laughed, talked and danced the night away to the sound of car radios. In the 1940s, they listened to Frank Sinatra, Mel Torme and Eddie Fisher. Over the years, word spread about the gathering spot overlooking the Pass. In the late 1940s, maybe two dozen kids would hang out around the tree on weekend nights. By the 1970s, more than 100 teenagers could be seen crowding around the stately looking oak, listening to Aerosmith, Emerson, Lake and Palmer, and Led Zeppelin.
Local landmark
The regal looking coastal live oak dominates a plateau area about seven miles north of downtown Beaumont. The tree is located along Avenida Miravilla at the entry to Mile High Ranch. A narrow dirt road heads off to the west, which you can follow to see the grandest oak in the Pass. Hidden beneath the branches is an old stone cabin, a big fireplace and a campfire ring.
Local nurseryman Christopher Layton recently surveyed the imposing oak tree. He estimates the tree is 60 to 70 feet tall and that its canopy on top is about 100 feet across. The oak has always had a special place in his heart. During the mid-1960s, Layton remembers family picnics beneath its branches, and how much everyone enjoyed his mom's bread and butter sandwiches and homemade fried chicken.
Keeping watch
Just as it has for decades, the oak is a destination out on the plateau, where car radios reverberate and young people take in the panoramic view of city lights below. Off in the distance, they spot the blinking antennas perched atop Mt. Davis and a sliver of white light in far off Orange County. And so, for a new generation, the steadfast, silent oak keeps a lonely vigil over a slowly unfolding tomorrow in the Pass.