COMMUNITY COMMENTARY -- Val Carson

I don’t quite remember how or when I first went to Crystal Cove. I

know I parked on the old dirt road leading into the cottage district and

walked in the soft dirt to the beach and was enchanted. I don’t know what

came over me, but Crystal Cove has always had a special place in my

heart.

I know one of my first experiences was in 1979, with my 3-year-old

daughter, Jessamine. We sat on a serape across from the bridge, and we

both painted the flowers growing on and surrounding the bridge. I

remember being there with my two sons and my daughter a few years later,

still being able to park in the dirt at the top of the hill and walk in

to Crystal Cove. We visited the tide pools and played in the sand. I have

spent many special times at Crystal Cove. It has been one of the

constants in my life for more than 25 years.

I realize now that I am in mourning. It is as if there has been a

terrible accident and all are lost forever. Tomorrow, I will go to

Crystal Cove as always to paint, but the familiar, friendly faces will

not be there. The flowers, sculptures, artifacts, memorabilia, flags,

dolphin topiaries, dogs and cats, and especially the residents that made

up a special community that was one of the only unchanging aspects of my

life, are now gone, and were instantly in one day, as if there had been a

terrible tragedy -- a plague or a plane crash that has wiped them all

out.

I knew they were being evicted, and I tried to tell the California

State Parks department what an integral part of Crystal Cove the

residents were, but no one would listen. I’m sure there are hundreds of

citizens of the state of California, as well as other visitors who

connected with the community of Crystal Cove as I did, who are also in

mourning for that family, that community that had remained unchanged by

time. It was one of the only predictable things in my life. All around

me, houses have been bulldozed, neighbors have come and gone, roads,

shopping centers, freeways everything in constant change, but not Crystal

Cove. I could always escape down the road to the unchanging solace of

Crystal Cove.

How could a community, a treasure, a cultural resource of this

magnitude be overlooked by the bureaucrats in the state capitol? It is a

case of shortsightedness on their part. They never spent time in Crystal

Cove. The comfort and tranquillity of the neighborhood was never

experienced by them. They acted in ignorance. It is possible to tell

someone that something is more precious than gold, but unless they

experience it they can never understand it.

Such is what happened at Crystal Cove. It was my neighborhood even

though I didn’t live there, and the residents were my neighbors. I’ve

watched the cottages change as they became “state owned.” I’ve watched

the community struggle for survival. Some were out painting their fences

a few weeks before they would have to leave forever, giving their cottage

the last loving touch.

Now all that’s left is a group of shacks, like lifeless bodies without

a spirit. I’ve tried to understand, to realize that it belongs to all the

people of the state, but didn’t it also belong to them when it was a

living, breathing community that could impact each visitor as it had

impacted me for more than 25 years? Couldn’t they all enjoy it without

dumping out its contents and destroying it? Crystal Cove was a retreat, a

friendly neighborhood filled with history, camaraderie and joy. I’m sure

my mourning will continue forever, as it would for any family lost in a

tragic accident. I will never fully recover. This is a cruel mistake the

state has played.

* Val Carson is a member of the Crystal Cove Community Trust.