92128 is a bit of a mystery. It is at once, a very quiet, predictable place and a land of surprises. Our home sits smack in the center of the traditional lands of the Kumeyaay People, more than thirty bands of folks who lived by agriculture in the mountains, valleys and tidelands abutting the Pacific Ocean. Their history has been traced a full 12,000 years but they could not survive the European invasion. Balboa, Serra and others spelled their doom. Finally- in 1878- the surviving Pasqual band of native Americans were expelled outright.
The highpoints in the area’s history include the arrival of English seafarer Joseph Snook who sought and gained a land grant of 17,763 acres from the Mexican Government. In the Mexican War a three day battle was fought in the San Pasqual Valley that was won by Anglo-American forces and the region’s whiteness was assured. In 1848, statehood made the continued whiteness inevitable.
Fast forward to 1943 when the Daley family purchased Rancho San Bernardo, an event that made modern development possible. The development period culminates-for my story- in 1961 when two developers, Harry Summers and W. R. Hawn, got their paperwork together and were approved to create a neighborhood called Seven Oaks. Seven Oaks is the heart of the matter and the home of The Gang of Eight.
The neighborhood is full of stories, myths, flora and fauna that also manifest that mystery of the predictable hard up against the occasional surprise…like a long search for treasure that finally yields a gem or two. Seven Oaks was one of the States first planned communities and that unique status is revealed in many ways. Initially, 500 homes were planned and constructed in a 55 and older community that allows only single story dwellings and has enfranchised an architectural committee that rules on everything from tree height to exterior paint colors. Construction began in 1962 with the opening of a sales office and a plat map.
An aerial view of Seven Oaks establishes the weird fact that there are no gridded streets, indeed, the street lay out resembles a spilled plate of fettuccine… things turn in upon themselves, with cul d sacs and roads that seem to lead nowhere …right angles don’t exist. All service lines are underground and every winding street boasts a sidewalk. Comfortable after a bit of orientation.
My home was built in 1965 and remodeled twice since then. Most homes have been upgraded over the years and most landscapes are rocked and sport a variety of succulents as water is at a premium.
When you follow the adventures of the Gang it might help to know the lay of the land.
One thing is certain, the people that live here are the gems I was talking about. In the words of a famous urban planner, Le Corbusier, “the home should be the treasure chest of living.”
We are there.
Olio Folio 