End of an Era : Homes Will Be Built on Site That Gave Voice to Roaring ‘20s

Silent film-era starlets once rode horseback nude in the moonlight along a secluded strip of oceanfront property on the north end of Laguna Beach, across from glistening Emerald Bay.

During these Roaring ‘20s, Florence (Pancho) Barnes, the legendary cigar-smoking aviatrix, lived here, eventually blowing her fortune hosting lavish parties for her famous Hollywood guests.

“Pancho was always living for tomorrow,” said 75-year-old Eugene (Mac) McKendry, who married Barnes in 1945, after she had lost this property and all her wealth. “She ran with the movie crowd, with movie stars like John Wayne, Ramone Navarro, Erich von Stroheim, Mary Pickford. It was just a 24-hour party.”

The site was later bought by oil tycoon Lon Smith, who renamed the estate “Smithcliffs,” before he sold it off.

Now, after a bitter 10-year fight involving residents, local officials, environmentalists and the developer, the 10.4-acre property along Coast Highway, hidden behind a wrought-iron gate and yards of drooping bougainvillea, is home to a new generation of the wealthy.

Perched atop a 200-foot jagged bluff jutting out over Emerald Bay and the Pacific Ocean, 26 bare lots, each commanding prices from $450,000 to $4 million, were put up for sale and 14 have been purchased for exclusive homes. One dwelling has been finished so far, and another is nearly ready for occupancy.

“It’s a wonderful project on a very special piece of property that a very lucky few will enjoy,” said Phil Reed, chief administrative officer for the developer, Brinderson Co.

But to some longtime residents who savored the property’s colorful past and relished its natural beauty, the evolution from a pastoral setting to an exclusive residential enclave is hard to take.

“It sure would have been nice if they’d left a few things alone,” said Jeannette Merrilees, who lives next to Smithcliffs. “This was just too precious to destroy.”

The project didn’t come easily to Gary Brinderson, whose Irvine-based Brinderson Co. subdivided the property. From the time he bought it in 1985, nearby homeowners fought the plans in an effort to keep the bluff undeveloped.

Work on Smithcliffs, which lay in county territory, was delayed for years as the county, the developer and Laguna Beach officials wrangled over who should be allowed to annex the property.

Brinderson also came under attack from environmentalists who said that the site--at the time covered with a grove of pine trees--was one of the few undeveloped monarch butterfly roosts left in California.

At a cost of about $1.5 million, the company preserved and relocated about 74 out of 100 pines--17 of which are endangered torrey pines, the natural habitat for the orange and black butterflies. Still, to many residents nearby, the development was an unwelcome intrusion.

Yet even before the long and acrimonious dispute, this place was no stranger to gossip and controversy.

During Prohibition in the 1920s and early 1930s, the Hollywood crowd found its way down to Barnes’ stucco mansion and engaged in such raucous partying, with liquor flown in from Mexico, that countless tongues were loosed in the then-tranquil community.

It was said that Barnes and her Hollywood starlet friends would ride horseback nude in the moonlight and that she built a swimming pool next to the bar with portholes in the wall so guests could watch swimmers cavorting at her pool parties.

Barnes, a stunt pilot, even built a landing strip on her property so she could fly movie moguls and film stars to her parties, and for pilot friends to visit her.

“I remember one or two of the planes going into the ocean,” said 78-year-old Doc Blacketer, a 72-year resident of Laguna Beach. “It became too dangerous so they quit taking off there in the 1930s.”

Years later, bowing under the pressure of heavy debts from unwise investments and ostentatious parties, Barnes lost her treasured property, according to ex-husband McKendry. In 1936, it was sold to Oscar Howard, a wealthy Oklahoma oilman.

“She wished she could have hung on to it,” McKendry said. “We drove down there once in 1946. Her house was torn down, and we never did go in.”

Barnes moved to the Mojave Desert and ran a bar and hotel, drawing airmen--including famed test pilot Chuck Yeager, who became a friend--from nearby Edwards Air Force Base. She died in 1975, “a poor little rich girl,” McKendry said.

After changing hands once more in 1951, this time to Lon Smith, an executive with Superior Oil Co., the historic slice of land was finally sold by Smith’s widow, Marguerite, to developer Brinderson.

Today, that property is in its final phase of being subdivided and sold.

Twyla Reed Martin, who together with her husband, Charles, bought six lots at Smithcliffs and an adjacent area where they are building a home for themselves, said they hope to have an annual garden party where guests dress in ‘20s-era costumes to honor their predecessors.

“I think we have such little history in this area that it’s just wonderful to try to preserve what we do have,” Martin said. “Hopefully, we’ll create something that people will feel is beautiful.”