Countdown to 2000: Personalities

Alex Coolman

Law and order. For many Californians, the words conjure an image of

Ronald Reagan cracking down on Berkeley riots in the 1960s. But for

people who were around Newport Beach during that turbulent decade, the

words are associated with another man: James Glavas, Newport’s chief of

police.

Glavas was the man responsible for keeping the peace during Bal Week, the

springtime festival that had once been a source of pride for the

community but had become, by the mid-1960s, a loud, obnoxious festival of

hormones run amok. Bal Week was an annual source of gridlock and public

drunkenness, with up to 15% of those attending getting into trouble with

the police.

The chief promised to clean up Bal Week and he delivered on his

disciplinary promise. Glavas sent arrest counts soaring and eventually

went so far in 1964 as to attempt to block off all traffic to the

peninsula.

Ultimately, however, it was the burning of the Rendezvous Ballroom in

1966 that did the most to kill off Bal Week. The destruction of that

landmark, more than all of Glavas’ strict measures, took the wind out of

the event’s sails.

The tension of the Bal Week controversy was not only about a clash of

cultures; it also stemmed from the need to acknowledge that a sleepy

beachside community was growing with tremendous speed into a large city.

Costa Mesa grappled with the same issue, but it seemed to Bob Wilson,

who served as mayor from 1964 to 1966, that the growth was doing great

things for the town.

“The ‘60s was the real time for Costa Mesa,” Wilson said. “We built a

city hall. We built a twin golf course. We built South Coast Plaza. We

started automobile row.”

Wilson brought a forceful, business-friendly personality to local

politics. He credits developers like Don Koll, Dick Sewell and Wally

Gainer with keeping the economic gears turning, but when he thought a

special project needed his attention, he threw himself into it.

The widening of Harbor Boulevard was one such project.

“That was really a donnybrook,” he joked. “Everybody got mad at me.”

Sources: “Newport Beach, the First Century: 1888-1988,” James P.

Felton; Bob Wilson.