“…turn me out and I’ll wander, stumblin’ in the neon groves…” — The Doors, Soul Kitchen
 Blue Skies detail (David Petry) As Santa Barbara’s neon lights flicker out, one after the next, it’s time to visit the handful of remaining classics. So this Saturday, call up a couple friends, slide some Tom Waits or Nina Simone in the deck, pull out the camera, and pile in the car as dusk falls on the city and the neons come to life. (If you need a neon playlist, jump to the end of this post for 20 neon songs.)
Here’s the plan: Start on the north (west) end of town and drive south (east), ending up at Roy for dinner and drinks in front of the beautiful and vibrant Jolly Tiger sign over the bar.
From downtown Santa Barbara, head north on the 101 so you don’t spoil the tour by catching all the lights on the way up. Get off at El Sueno and turn right at the stop on Calle Real. (From Goleta, go to Turnpike and turn down Calle Real.)
Blue Skies Mobile Park
4280 Calle Real
The Blue Skies mobile park was opened in the early 1960s. When the park opened, they added what would become an iconic neon sign. Ernie Thompson, veteran glass bender at Modern Neon of Santa Barbara, created the sign. For years the sign stood as a beacon to travelers on Highway 101. Rudi Stern included the sign in his comprehensive neon history, Let There Be Neon. In 1999, the local band The Ataris used the sign for cover art and named their album, Blue Skies, Broken Hearts…Next 12 Exits, after the park. But in the early 2000s a sound wall was built, blocking the sign from the view of the highway as you drive north. Only the southbound traffic is enchanted now.
 Blue Skies (David Petry) The sign consists of the words Blue Skies over two overlapping four-pointed stars. The sign still operates, but the glass tubing on the front star is broken, so only one star displays. In speaking with John, the park manager, he said the sign has been fixed twice in the last four to five years, each time costing $500 to $700.
“It’s either vandals or birds” that are breaking the sign, he said. “But it didn’t used to get broken, so we think it’s probably vandals throwing rocks.” The park’s owner considered replacing the sign with an LED equivalent, but the expense was too great.
For the time being, this is what you get.
From the Blue Skies, continue east along Calle Real towards Santa Barbara. Take it to where it intersects with State Street and turn left. Drive to the 3600 block of State and turn into the parking lot across from Denny’s.
Tee Off Steak House
3627 State Street
The Tee Off has been plying great steaks, fried chicken, seafood and cocktails since 1956. Their signs are small, but distinctive of the old-style neon. The Tee Off is Santa Barbara’s last neon cocktail glass!
 Tee Off Steak House (David Petry) Stop in for refreshments!
From the Tee Off, head east again, down State Street. In the dark, on the left, at 3126 State, you may be able to make out the unlit neon Cocktails sign at Don’s John. But we’re hunting the flickering, glowing beacons. Stay right at De La Vina and head for the 2700 block.
Jimboz Lounge
2711 De La Vina Street
I know the sign says Freeman’s Lounge, but that’s the nature of neon in Santa Barbara. If you want to keep the neon, either you can’t change the name of the business, or, like James Fletcher, who bought Freeman’s in 1998, you hang the name of your bar on an inside wall.
 Jimboz (aka Freeman's) Lounge (David Petry) Originally opened in 1959 as Lejon’s by Johnny Mitchell who now owns the Back Door in Goleta, it changed hands a couple of times before Fletcher purchased the bar. “The city won’t let us change the sign unless we take it down,” he said. So the Freeman’s part of the sign, which was broken by a flapping American flag on Independence Day one year, stays broken, and only the Lounge portion lights up bright red.
Stop in for a drink and tell them I said ‘Hi.’
From Jimboz, head another block south on De La Vina to find one of the classics left in town.
Jedlicka’s Saddlery
2605 De La Vina Street
Jedlicka’s first opened in 1934 as George Jedlicka’s Shoe Repair. It was located at 2605 Hollister because De La Vina was Hollister until the streets were reconfigured in the early 1950s. George started as a salesman at M. A. Levy Shoes at 913 State, and that is likely where he met his wife, Esther, who was Levy’s bookkeeper.
In 1943 Jedlicka expanded the business to additional store front and called it a saddlery. In 1946, Josiah Jenkins began working at the store. Ten years later he would purchase the store from the Jedlickas. Jenkins kept the name and continued in the same location. Fifteen years later, Josiah’s son, Joshua would start working in the leather shop making hand-crafted belts. Today, Joshua owns and operates the store.
 Jedlicka's Saddlery (David Petry) The sign went up sometime around 1951 on a pole fifteen feet over the sidewalk. But it fell victim to the ordinance in the early 1980’s that outlawed both pole signs and exposed neon in Santa Barbara. The sign was grandfathered in, but they had to move it from the pole and attach it to the roof with brackets.
When I last visited the sign, the sign was out on the north side, but still lit on the south side.
From Jedlicka’s, go east half a block and turn left at Constance to cut back over to State Street. At State, turn right and head south again. You’ll bag five signs before you leave State again down in the 500 block.
At 1816 State, on the left-hand side, you’ll see the understated, yet beautiful, green Motel signs of the Fiesta Inn Motel. If it’s been raining, these signs reflect nicely on State Street’s pavement.
 Fiesta Inn Motel (David Petry) Arlington Theater
1317 State Street
Five blocks down, you’ll come to the famous Arlington. Opened in 1931, this theater used to have rotating neon letters spelling FOX on the needle. What remains is a classic marquee that has had multiple make-overs. A muted, but classy neon experience.
 Arlington Theater marquee (David Petry) Christian Science Reading Room
1301 State Street
Drive another block east and catch the next sign on your right. Innocuous and surprising, the Christian Science Reading Room has a neon sign!
 Christian Science Reading Room (David Petry) In the next block, on your way down State, you’ll see the refurbished Granada Theater. The Granada opened in 1924 with a neon marquee and a large vertical sign. They got around the neon prohibition by installing a sign lit with incandescents. Muted and hardly exciting.
Santa Barbara Travel Bureau
1028 State Street
Two blocks down on your left, you might pick out the darkened Travel Bureau sign on the wall. Though they claim this sign works, I have not seen it turned on in months. A simple sign, but endearing.
 Santa Barbara Travel Bureau (David Petry) Metro 4 Theater
618 State Street
Stay the course for four more blocks and you’ll see the only new neon sign in Santa Barbara. They must have fought for it, and there’s probably a story there, but I haven’t talked to them about it yet.
 Metro 4 Theaters (David Petry)
8 E. Cota – The Palace Grill
When you come to the end of the 600 block, look up Cota to your left. You’ll see the Palace Grill. Their sign is a back-lit channel sign, but they use exposed neon as an architectural element in the arches over their doors and windows. A nice touch in a town without much neon cheer.
Joe’s Cafe
536 State Street
In the next block you can’t miss Santa Barbara’s classic neon sign. Over the restaurant since 1954, this sign was designed by then-owner of Joe’s, Harry Davis. (Davis later opened Harry’s in the Loreto Plaza.) According to John Brinley-Higgins in his 1983 book, Joe’s Cafe, a Santa Barbara Old Town tradition, “Harry Davis really had to fight with the city council to get the new marquee approved.” This, even though the sign ordinances that outlawed neon were still more than 25 years away.
 Joe's Cafe (David Petry) More refreshments! Joe’s is famous for their stiff drinks and great food. No wonder they’re the oldest restaurant in town.
From Joe’s, drop down two blocks to Gutierrez to make a right. Go 1 block to Chapala and turn right again. Drive 3 blocks to Ortega and turn right once more. We’ll do the east side of town now.
As you turn, you’ll see the Wildcat Lounge at 15 W Ortega. Their use of neon, like The Palace Grill’s, is architectural and does not constitute a sign so the same ordinances do not apply. Next door to them at 19 W Ortega was the first office, from 1941 to 1975, of Santa Barbara’s premiere neon sign makers, Modern Neon Signs.
Cross State and head north. One block past State, straight ahead on the left, you’ll see the Paradise Café.
Paradise Cafe
702 Anacapa Street
See my post on The Dying of the Light: Santa Barbara Outlaws Neon for a more detailed history of the Paradise sign. This sign was saved from City Council’s metaphorical sign bulldozers by nostalgia when council member Lloyd Reynolds poetically recalled the neon signs coming on after WWII black-outs.
Brought to light in 1983, this sign is a modification of the old La Paloma Café sign. Stop in for refreshments. They have a beautiful old neon clock in the bar.
 Paradise Cafe (David Petry) Drive past the Paradise on Ortega to Santa Barbara Street and turn left.
Victor the Florist
135 E. Anapamu Street
As you pass the Courthouse in the 1100 block, you’ll see Victor the Florist ahead on the left. At this writing, they have two signs and both are out of order. They plan to repair them after Valentine’s Day 2010.
In business since the 1930s, Victor’s is a great place to get your Valentine’s Day on. If it’s not Valentine’s Day, it’s a good day to buy flowers anyway. Surprise someone. Remember to support your local neon businesses!
 Victor the Florist in an earlier day when both signs were showing a beautiful neon pink.(David Petry)
Turn left in front of Victor’s on Anapamu. Now we’ll travel to the west side of State Street for the final cluster of neon in Santa Barbara, where a disappointing three of the last five signs are no longer functioning and may never light the streets again.
Drive 1 block to Anacapa and turn left. Drive 1 more block to Figueroa and turn right. Cross State Street and drive another half-block. The Sportsman is on the right.
The Sportsman
20 W. Figueroa
There are some places that reek of Santa Barbara in a way you may not think of Santa Barbara reeking. This is one of those. Go in for a drink!
When it’s raining, the neon sign outside sometimes reads Spo. In dry weather, the full blue Sportsman displays.
 The Sportsman (David Petry) Drive 1 more block east on Figueroa and turn left down De La Vina. On your left, look up quick at the big white letters on the brick building on the corner.
Bob Joehnck Automotive
133 W. Figueroa
Bob Joehnck worked hard to keep his sign – he didn’t want to spend the money to replace it – when the no-neon ordinance came through in the early 1980s. And he won. But the sign had already stopped working by then and he hasn’t fixed it or turned in on in over 40 years. Still a cool and classy sign.
I need to get a picture of it…
On your right just down the block, you’ll see a classic neon Liquor sign at 1015 De La Vina.
Drive to Carrillo and turn right. You’re in the home stretch!
De Riviera Hotel
141 W. Carrillo
On the right side of the street, just before the Fire Station, you’ll see the De Riviera Hotel sign. This sign, lit since the 1950s, is also permanently dark. The hotel became a residence home owned by the city several years ago and so the sign in no longer needed.
Cool and simple design.
 De Riviera Hotel sign - dark in the dark (David Petry)
Greyhound Bus Lines
34 W. Carrillo
Turn left again at the light on Chapala. In front of you, you’ll see the grand old Greyhound Bus Terminal with some beautiful, beefy neon. You’ll also see that the building is up for lease and that, no matter what time of day it is, the sign is dark.
The sign has the very cool running dog logo of the company.
 Greyhound (David Petry) Ramon, the District Manager, said the sign has not been turned on for at least five years “except once at Christmas.” But now several of the sign tubes are broken and the entire sign probably will not work. “We don’t want to turn it on without an electrical inspection.”
The plans are for the Greyhound station to join Amtrak below the freeway. When this building goes dark from the inside, the Greyhound sign will almost certainly disappear.
Turn right back onto Figeuroa in front of the Sportsman and park in the public lot on your right. Walk through between the Greyhound station and Sak’s and you’ll see Roy Restaurant straight ahead. The neon this time is inside.
Roy
7 W. Carrillo
Roy is home to the exposed neon Jolly Tiger sign. When I stopped in to talk with Roy about his sign, the Tiger transformer was on the fritz, so only Jolly was up and lit. Roy told a Tiger Woods joke.
Jolly Tiger was the Norm’s of Santa Barbara for a couple decades. It stood at 901 Chapala where a Cajun Kitchen stands today. Roy found the sign at an antique auction and gave it a home.
The food at Roy is superb. The drinks are mighty fine. And that’s as close to neon as you’re likely to get in Santa Barbara. Drink to the light!
 Jolly Tiger at Roy (David Petry) Extra Credit
Arnoldi’s – 600 Olive Street – graceful architectural pink. We were married here a couple years ago. We are grateful to the Peri family for bringing this place back. A not-to-be-missed dining experience.
 Arnoldi's (David Petry) Lucky’s – 1279 Coast Village Road
 Lucky's (David Petry) Biltmore – Sign at corner of Olive Mill and Coast Village Road
 Biltmore sign (David Petry)
A Neon Playlist
20 tunes (of the hundreds that reference neon) to get you through the night…
- The World We Knew – Frank Sinatra
- Heart of Saturday Night – Tom Waits
- Underneath the Neon Sign – The Kinks
- Simple Twist Of Fate – Bob Dylan
- Tear-Stained Eye – Son Volt
- The Last Resort – The Eagles
- Soul Kitchen – The Doors
- Swinging Doors – Merle Haggard
- Diamonds on my Windshield – Tom Waits
- Broadway Lights – Ian Hunter
- Viva Las Vegas – Bruce Springsteen
- Neon Lights – U2
- Civilization – Frank Sinatra
- Leaving Las Vegas – Sheryl Crow
- Night in My Veins – The Pretenders
- Buenos Noches From a Lonely Room – Dwight Yoakam
- Nighthawk Postcards (From Easy Street) – Tom Waits
- Rainy Night in Georgia – Conway Twitty
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Driving south from Santa Barbara through the neon playground of Ventura, I went to visit to Vogue Signs in Oxnard earlier this week. As you leave the freeway, of course, you pass the classic and abandoned old Wagon Wheel Inn sign, with neon horses and stagecoach, the whole place moldering and vandalized beneath it.
Around the corner, the Hacienda de Oro Restaurant stands abandoned under green and gold neon.
Then, a few blocks from Vogue, I passed the Teatro Theater at 624 Oxnard Boulevard. My CD deck was spilling out Willie Nelson’s CD, Teatro. I’d never connected the two, but when I got home, I found the connection was real.
“I’m going to hang a neon sign with letters big and blue Home Motel on Lost Love Avenue.”
Willie Nelson, Home Motel, Teatro
 Teatro 1, David Petry, 2010 Opened as the Teatro in 1929, the 775-seat theater showed first run films for many years, and then, in the 1960s, as downtown moved out towards the 101, they became the Teatro “Boulevard” Theater and switched over to Spanish-language movies. They finally closed their doors in 1993 as the multiplexes continued to multiply around town.
 Oxnard Boulevard and Teatro Theater, ca. 1932. Note the different marquee and the wonderfully evocative EAT sign up the block. (Source unknown) According to the Los Angeles Times, “poor attendance and a recent drop in the production of Mexican films caused the demise of the Teatro Boulevard, the only Spanish-language theater in Ventura County.” General manager Jose Romo said, “It’s a tired old theater and there’s not much product anymore. People just stopped coming.”
From about 1997 to 2001, musician and music producer Daniel Lanois owned the theater and produced albums there. These included Bob Dylan’s Time Out of Mind, 12 Bar Blues by Scott Weiland, the Brian Eno/U2-inflected and manned Million Dollar Hotel soundtrack, U2’s All That You Can’t Leave Behind, and of course, Willie Nelson’s Teatro. Lanois decamped to Silver Lake in 2001 and the Teatro owners tried to reinvent the place.
Film director Wim Wenders filmed the Willie Nelson recording sessions in his film, Willie Nelson at the Teatro.
 Oxnard Boulevard and Teatro "Boulevard" Theater, ca. 1955. The triangular sign further down the block is the Asahi Market, and the sign that sent Nao Takasugi to the State Assembly. (Source unknown) But plans to reopen as a sound stage and rehearsal hall in 2002 fell through. The space was described at that time as having 250 seats with an 800 square foot stage. The central area of the theater “has a flat 3000 sq ft area for additional seating and for building sets.” The projection room had been converted to offices with sky lights and hardwood floors and there were DSL and new electrical installed throughout.
 Oxnard Boulevard and Teatro Theater, ca. 1980 (and the extinct Chevy Nova and Mercury Bobcat). The Asahi Market neon sign is still there. The market remains today, but the sign is gone. (Source unknown) The theater was used by Iglesia Universal as a church during 2003 and 2004. When Universal left, the theater was up for lease again, this time for church use. Rumor had it that the cause was a zoning limitation set by proximity to the 14-plex a few blocks away. But this was not the case.
 Teatro 2, David Petry, 2010 – this wall will be soda-blasted to the brick later this month. In late 2007, filmmaker Paul Sangster purchased the building. He has used the building for film shoots but would like to see other tenants, particularly creative-use tenants, interested in the space. Next month, the independent film, Polly Baker Pattern Maker will be shooting there.
But the city changed the zoning on the building immediately after Sangster’s purchase. Citing cracks in the rear masonry wall, they downgraded the number of people allowed inside at any given time to 500, limiting potential uses. Churches were interested and a boxing ring looked at the site, but the zoning limitations sent them down the road.
In 2009, the City of Oxnard granted building permits for the repair and agreed that the 500 person zoning is grandfathered with the building zoning.
Maureen Hooper, with Oxnard’s Community Development Department, explained that the city has approved funds through Oxnard’s Façade Improvement Program for the building. She expects the refurbishment to start this month (Feb 2010) with soda-blasting of the exterior side and rear walls to remove several layers of paint and bring the side wall back down to the original brick. The masonry repairs are spec’ed to start for the rear wall soon as well.
The theater will then be repainted using a period art deco color palette. The final color selection is still in process.
 Teatro 3, David Petry, 2010 – and a full neon restoration to come. The final touch will be restoring the original neon sign. Sangster contacted the Museum of Neon Art in Los Angeles for a recommendation of someone to restore the sign. Concurrent with the neon project, will be a project to install ambient LED lighting that will wash the front walls with lights of changing colors.
“Once we get our zoning back,” Sangster said, “it could be a theater again.” But his preference is to find tenants that would use if for “a music studio, photography, or [film] post production.” Once the work is completed the City has agreed that the original 500-700 person zoning will be restored.
It’s wonderful to see a beautiful old building getting needed care and attention from both the city and the owner. It will be worth the drive to see it when the place is restored. It will be a classy anchor for whatever redevelopment Oxnard focuses in the area. The entire façade restoration project is expected to be completed by the end of 2010.
Interested parties should contact WWW.FUTURELIGHTING.NET
“I don’t know where the neon collectors are,” Ramón Cervantes of Dave’s Signs in Ventura says. “They bring the signs to us.”
Collecting neon is something of an art form in itself. Easy enough to gather a few beer signs, and maybe the ice cream cone that hung on the wall of the local ice cream store when it shut down. But sooner or later, a true neon collector comes across a piece of history crying to be saved, and they can’t back away.
But for neon, maintaining history is non-trivial.
For Santa Barbara neon collector Don Bushnell, that’s where he started — with the non-trivial.
“My first neon sign?” Bushnell cocks his head and pinpoints it. “It was a restaurant in Malibu. I was driving home from Los Angeles and saw this place. They were tearing it down.” The sign, like much neon, was thrown into the trash heap, and Bushnell liberated it from its certain fate in a landfill.
 Dana's TownTown sign (Don Bushnell collection) That sign has since moved on in the family, but there have been others. The Dana’s Toy Town sign, another non-trivial acquisition, came to him after he first borrowed the sign right off the front of the building for an art show. “We had a show at the UCSB Art Museum in 1986. It was the biggest show they’d ever had, the best attendance. Dana’s let us use their sign.
“It went up in 1948 when they opened the store, and then, when they closed in 1994 or ’95, he called me and asked if I wanted it. I have it out back. I’ll show you.”
These signs are non-trivial because, like fragile human souls, they can have multiple personalities depending on their level of care while they were in use. Their metal, paint and fittings, exposed to the elements, sometimes for decades, are in need of the equivalent of a body shop. Then there’s the electrical. And the glass and gas, the tubing that makes neon neon.
 Old Sherwin-Williams Paint sign from the Santa Barbara store. (Don Bushnell collection) Neon signs plug into any 120 volt wall socket. Then their mighty little transformers, with glass insulators like goblin’s toes, covert those 120 volts to 12,000 volts. As Ron Wilkinson of Vogue Signs in Oxnard says, those tubes are filled with “big fat lazy neon atoms, all packed tight in there. Add some electricity and they move like hell.” (LED lights, the up-and-coming neon competitor, take the 120 volts and convert it to 12 volts.)
You could stand over a discarded sign and throw up your hands. Too much work. Too big for your garage where you would have to fix it, and way to big for your living room and relationship. But that’s history there, history as unwanted as and unseen as lobotomies and Edsels.
You know what it would look like, all spruced up…
Out back at Bushnell’s home is a small neon temple. Dana’s is the largest and most impressive of his current collection and the most notably local. When Bushnell had Dana over to see the sign, he was thrilled to see it, but asked why the jester didn’t pop up the sign. Bushnell had thought the sign was just lit-up in a single display. When he looked inside the sign, there were ten transformers, each linked to a separate portion of a display sequence.
“We couldn’t restore all ten,” he said, “but we have a two-phase sequence.”
An old Sherwin-Williams sign, Cover the Earth, translates beautifully into neon. There are the ubiquitous, but still beautiful, beer signs, eliciting a thirst.
A sign from the old Sticky Fingers candy store in Ventura graces the fence. There is an Olympics logo, each circle lighting in quick sequence, red, blue, and yellow. Another Ventura establishment is represented, The Greater Pacific Radio Exchange with the company’s four radio stations lit in different colors.
On the way out of the neon garden, there’s a neon Julie over a white neon heart. Julie Lopp, his wife, “is from Vegas and Reno, so she doesn’t feel the same way I do about neon. So I got her a gift. I’ll show you, it’s in the kitchen.”
In the kitchen , Don plugs in a toaster which flickers to life, lighting two pieces of toast, buttery with neon.
 The neon toaster. (Don Bushnell collection) “I’m not really collecting anymore,” he said. But when the topic of the old movie theaters crops up, Bushnell says, “I tried to get the old Whittier Theater sign. That would have drawn everything together.” This would have been a vertical sign with each of the eight letters two to three feet square. Add space between the letters, a curly-cue at the top and bottom, and you have a sign that stands over 20 feet tall. “Oh, I’d lay it on its side in the back yard,” Don points to the raised bed that currently sports succulents.
The Whittier sign, it turns out, may have been one of Don’s earliest encounters with neon. His father, theater architect David Bushnell, built theaters like the Fox Arlington in places like Whittier and Monrovia. “People say the Arlington is one-of-a-kind, but the theaters my father was building were exactly like the Arlington, inside and out. The Spanish village interior and everything.”
The Fox Arlington Theatre opened on the May 22, 1931 with the movie “Daddy Long Legs” starring Janet Gaynor and Warner Baxter. The theater featured the standard neon fare of the day, a large marquee (still in place), and neon fluting and large neon letters spelling FOX on the spire, which spun. “Sailors could see that out at sea, even in the fog,” Bushnell said.
Bushnell met the man who installed those letters. He was up the tower on December 7, 1930, installing the letters with an apprentice. They dangled some 50 feet above the tiled roof below in swinging bosun’s chairs. On that day, Santa Barbara experienced two minor earthquakes, back-to-back. The first shock came at 5:23 pm. The second followed at 5:29 pm. The town at large felt both shocks, but no damage was caused. “His apprentice was terrified,” Bushnell said, “but he thought it was pleasant. Like being out at sea.”
Don takes me upstairs to see his office neon collection. We pass a hundred or so painted and filigreed eggs on the stairwell. In the office, food characters line the shelves – Bob of Bob’s Big Boy, the Pillsbury Dough Boy, Aunt Jemima. Next to them are sets of Russian Babushka dolls. “I collect neon, and eggs, and food characters…” he says. “My wife collects businesses. Her collections are more profitable.”
The office neon is clustered together. A fish received as a gift when he retired from fulltime work, a Sale sign on a fire hydrant, and a Route 66 sign.
When Bushnell convinced David Farmer, Director of the UCSB Art Museum to do a neon show in 1986, it took the two of them to Brentwood and Westwood where they coerced owners of iconic signs to allow them to use the signs for three months in the show. The show ran from October 4 through December 14, 1986. They were able to convince a Van de Kamp’s Bakery, a Mohawk gas station, and a collector who owned a near life-sized neon of a locomotive for Lionel Trains. Posters for the show are still available at the UCSB Art Museum store for $3.
But collectors are few and far between, and many people removing old neon signs don’t see them as valuable. The beautiful old Wagon Wheel sign in Oxnard stands over an abandoned motel and restaurant. As the years pass, the damage deepens.
Bushnell has rescued signs from such decay. Seeing an old Seven-Up bottle cap neon sign rusting and disused on top of the old Rose Café on Haley, still up from the days when the Rose was across the street from where it stands today, Bushnell stopped and, with the help of the owner, rescued the sign.
Santa Barbara, once a neon Mecca, has not been friendly to neon for a long time. Hundreds of neon signs have been removed by law. Of the handful that remain, many are endangered. If you’re a collector, the times may be good. If you’re an aficionado, who loves the crisp glow of neon and the bold strokes of the underlying signage, the times are less so.
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When Modern Neon shuttered their doors in Santa Barbara in 2002, it was the end of sixty-one years of neon domination is Santa Barbara. What happened? Where did all the neon go?
Neon is experiencing a resurgence across the country, and throughout the planet, perhaps as human creativity itself resurges. China and Japan have huge neon industries. The hundreds of neon signs you see without seeing every day – the Open and Vacancy and beer company signs – all come out of China now. Entire buildings are sheathed with neon and LED displays. Pedestrian malls, like Shanghai’s famous Nanjing Road, entice you into a world of drama and light.
 Nanjin Road, Shanghai, 2007 In the United States, most would agree that the neon Mecca lies in the middle of the Nevada desert in Las Vegas. But other cities have robust neon cultures, however, including Seattle, New Orleans, New York, Chicago, and of course, Reno.
 The Vegas Neon Cocktail But you don’t have to drive to Reno or Vegas to find a neon sign industry that still thrives near Santa Barbara. The city of Ventura has, after a period in the early 1960s of fighting the dreaded scourge, embraced neon. In the early 1960s, the Busy Bee Café on Main Street went toe-to-toe with the city in order to keep their neon signs and won. In the last few years, Ventura has not only embraced neon in their downtown corridors, but erected their own neon sign along the 101 at the site of the familiar old Loop’s Restaurant neon sign.
Planner Veronica Ledesma, with the Ventura Planning Department for 18 years, said that if a sign application for a business in the city of Ventura meets size criteria, it is an over the counter process. There is no higher review board. “We don’t address the creative, figurative or illustrative elements.” The only aspect requiring further review is an electrical permit and sign-off for electric signs.
 Ventura's Neon Welcome Sign along the 101 “Santa Barbara’s process…” Ron Wilkinson lets the idea drift. “It’s two or three months to get a sign approved. And if you want something different, it’s five or six months more. Big corporations just give up.”
Ron Wilkinson was the previous owner of Vogue Sign in Oxnard, and Vogue Sign was the holding company for Modern Neon Sign of Santa Barbara. Modern Neon’s journey was closely entwined with Santa Barbara’s destiny during the mid-20th century. Modern Neon was Santa Barbara’s premiere sign company for decades, at one time responsible for designing and installing up to 75% of the neon in Santa Barbara. And neon was a central art form in Santa Barbara.
Opened at 19 West Ortega in 1941by Eldon Abbey, Modern Neon rode the crest of the neon wave in Santa Barbara. Their files, partially intact, hold hundreds of old hand-drafted designs from the early seventies onwards. Designs from the forties, fifties, sixties were not saved to Wilkinson’s knowledge. Consumate neon artists like Ernie Thompson and George Wheaton designed signs and bent the glass to make them. Their signs were in many ways a Santa Barbara signature.
In 1960, Modern Neon brought suit against the City of Santa Barbara for the city’s 1957 sign law that was to go into effect in 1962. The law forbade moving, lighted signs, and that encompassed many neon signs of the day. If the law were applied, the businesses impacted would be hit arbitrarily. Many signs would become obsolete and would have to be replaced.
When a revised ordinance passed in 1962, Eldon Abbey saw the writing on the wall and sold Modern Neon and Darville Signs, a company he owned in Ventura, to Robert Perkins of Vogue Signs of Oxnard. According to Wilkinson, who owned Vogue Signs from 1992 through 2002, “the climate in Santa Barbara was discouraging.”
 Ron Wilkinson holding the Modern Neon Sign, which since they were located in downtown Santa Barbara, had to be wood. Vogue maintained something of a shell game after they acquired Modern, advertising their own services as though they were local, and keeping Modern Neon intact as a satellite firm under their own name to create signs in other tri-county cities and to service Santa Barbara.
Modern remained at 19 West Ortega until 1976 when they moved to 512 East Gutierrez. Joe McCarthy, remembered by many people I talked to about Santa Barbara neon, was known throughout the tri-counties as the face of Modern Neon. Working with salesman Mack McCalley, he was listed as the owner starting in 1962, but was in reality the site manager for Vogue. “Joe was synonymous with Modern Neon,” Wilkinson said, “until his death in the mid-1990s.”
 The hand-drawn 1972 design from Modern Neon’s files for the Motel Hacienda sign, a combination back-lit and neon sign, located at 3643 State Street. Ernie Thompson and George Wheaton were the master craftsmen of this period. Ernie Thompson designed and created the famous Blue Skies Mobile Park sign on Calle Real. Ernie retired in 1986 and for a time, maintained a neon shop at his home on Walnut Avenue.
Vogue finally closed up the Modern Neon factory in 1992 and leased a sales office in Santa Barbara, which quickly became a mail slot without personnel at 629 State Street. The phones with Santa Barbara numbers rang in Oxnard. It was at this point that Ron Wilkinson and partner George McGill purchased the company.
“We moved the Modern Neon production to Oxnard at that point,” Wilkinson explained. “The site in Oxnard is 10,000 square feet.” While there’s still a market for neon in Ventura and Oxnard, the neon fabrication has ceased in Oxnard. All of Vogue’s neon work is now outsourced to shops in the San Fernando Valley that have the demand to remain cost-effective.
Though Wilkinson sold the business in 2002 to Jack Woodruff, he stayed on as a salesman. “I love this work. I get to see things made here, rather than in China. I dress the night.”
 A wall of neon transformers at Vogue Signs in Oxnard. “Santa Barbara,” he said, “takes an active interest in the design of signs. We design it with the customer. [The city] changes it to their specifications. And it won’t be what the customer wants.”
“The laws homogenized signage in Santa Barbara,” he said. “Santa Barbara by the Sea. West Covina by the Sea.”
Dave’s Signs in Ventura is where many of the Santa Barbara neon owners go for service today. I visited Dave Tilsner, for whom the company is named – he sold the firm to Chris and Brenda Compton in 2008. Tilsner stayed on as a designer.
“In the 1960s and 70s,” Tilsner says, “attitudes toward neon changed. There was a backlash. Ventura tried to stamp it out. Busy Bee had to fight for their signs. In Oxnard, Nao Takasugi, owner of the Asahi Market, which is now over 100 years old, fought with the city council there in the 1960s to keep their signs.” Takasugi’s battle with the city convinced him that someone with some business acumen should be on the City Council. He served on the council, became mayor, and eventually served as a State Assemblyman. They kept their neon signs.
“In some towns,” Tilsner said, “it’s coming back. Filmore has been neon friendly for a long time. Pasadena’s another town. Ventura is also one of those towns.” In Santa Barbara, Tilsner has worked with businesses that wanted new exposed neon. “It’s not impossible,” he said, “but you have to be willing to fight for it and pay the money.”
Dave’s, like Vogue, makes all kinds of signs, but at one time had two fulltime glass benders working neon. Now they’re down to one, Ramón Cervantes. Cervantes has been ‘bending neon’ since 1997. He’s been with Dave’s Signs for the last six years. I joined Ramón at their neon booth where he stepped me through a repair of a neon sign component.
 Ramón Cervantes of Dave’s Signs starting a neon repair. “We get a lot of repairs,” Cervantes said. “And some new signs. We made the Ventura sign down there on 101.” Most signs use standard glass that runs $10 a foot or so. Classic neon glass comes from Milan, Italy, however, and costs up to $20 a foot.
 Cervantes always starts by drawing the piece to be repaired first. This way he can create a replacement if the glass breaks for some reason.  After cutting off the two existing electrodes, which is typically where the damage is located, Cervantes replaces the electrodes using a crossfire hand-torch to heat, fuse and shape the glass.  Once both electrodes are replaced, Cervantes connects the neon sign piece to a vacuum using glass tubing to remove the air. Some shops use rubber tubing, Cervantes said, but the seal is never as good.  Once the air is out, Cervantes applies an electrical current to verify the seal and to heat the glass to season it. “It has to hit 300 or 400 degrees.”  Then Cervantes opens the valve and fills the tube with neon. Then he turns on the electrical current again and Vavoom! Neon! If this were argon gas, a drop of mercury would be added to the sealed glass tube to make the gas glow brightly. Without it, argon in a clear tube glows dimly. The flaky material under and around the glass is mica which insulates the glass. “A lot of neon is now being used in channel signs,” Cervantes said. But LEDs are coming up fast. According to Dave Tilsner, they’re still more expensive to buy, but cheaper to own and maintain. But, “they’re getting cheaper.”
 Neon channel sign, shown from the back. The letters are set off the surface of the building to backlight them. Previous posts on neon:
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I stop in under the fresh glow of neon and ask about the sign above us. The memories spill like fish from the old trawlers in the harbor. Like the fish that used to cross the portals of ships in the harbor, neon too is dwindling.
But before it does, let’s wander down memory lane and look at some of those old signs!
This post covers the signs along Cabrillo Boulevard. If you have more, send them my way and we’ll load them up.
Additional pictorial posts:
(A huge thank you to John Fritsche and Nathan Marsak for use of their historic images.)
 La Casa Del Mar at 28 West Cabrillo, was billed as “The only motel on the beach” when this card was printed in 1956. Their neon sign is hard to see, but it’s there between the palms. (Claire C. Wood, Dexter Press, John Fritcshe collection)  The Rancho El Mar Motel at 102 West Cabrillo (Colourpicture, John Fritsche collection)  The Rancho El Mar became the Ala Mar a little later in life. (Colourpicture, John Fritsche collection)  The Ocean Park Motel on Cabrillo. (Nathan Marsak collection)  The beautiful Ambassador by the Sea owned by Milton Weinstein, at 202 West Cabrillo. (Colourpicture, John Fritsche collection)  The La Playa Motel at 212 West Cabrillo. (Robert W. Moline, Hi-Fi, John Fritsche collection)  Sambos at 216 West Cabrillo. Their sign is not neon, but their efforts to replace this sign today with an exact replica are being challenged by the city. (Tim Putz, John Fritsche collection)  The West Beach Motor Lodge at 306 West Cabrillo. Who wouldn’t want to stay under the three beach balls? (Forest Mathews, Foto-Color, John Fritsche collection)  Going east on Cabrillo, the truest and best of all red lobsters hung above Catsgnola’s. (Nathan Marsak collection)  The El Patio Hotel at 336 West Cabrillo. Note the arbor along the waterfront sidewalk across the street. (Colourpicture, John Fritsche collection)  The classic Ming Tree Motel on West Cabrillo. (Colourpicture, 1962, John Fritsche collection)  The Hotel Mar Monte on West Cabrillo. (Nathan Marsak collection) See my next post on The Beach Zone to see the motels above Cabrillo.
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This post covers the signs in the beach area above Cabrillo Boulevard. If you have more, send them my way and we’ll load them up.
Additional pictorial posts:
(A huge thank you to John Fritsche and Nathan Marsak for use of their historic images.)
Several motels cropped up in the area above Cabrillo. Here’s a sampling along Castillo, Bath, Montecito, and Yanonali Streets.
 Travelodge at 22 Castillo. Classic Moorish architecture and neon. (Colourpicture, John Fritsche collection)
 The Tides Motel at 116 Castillo (Claire C. Wood, Dexter Press, John Fritsche collection)  Twin Palms Motel with two rather discreet neon signs, located at 18 Bath Street. (Colourpicture, 1959, John Fritsche collection)  The Marina Beach Motel at 21 Bath Street. The beach and harbor are shown in case you think they are far away. Your hosts were George Warren and family. (Gary Zumdahl, John Fritsche collection)  The Harbor Motel, a “Port in the Sun”, at 104 Bath Street (Gary Zumdahl, John Fritsche collection)  Western Village Motel at 117 Bath Street (Colourpicture, John Fritsche collection)  The El Bayan Motel and Apartments located at 127 Bath Street. Their neon sign appears to the far left. (Colourpicture, John Fritsche collection)  The Polynesian at 433 West Montecito. One of the few postcards with the sense to capture the scene at dusk that you might enjoy the sign and the establishment. (Chase’s Color Card, John Fritsche collection)  An oldie. Casa Marina Motel at 222 West Yanonali. Their sign hardly squeaks it’s so small. (National Press, John Fritsche collection)  The prestigious Surf Motel at 26 Chapala. (E. B. Thomas, John Fritsche collection) See the images from the Downtown historical postcard selection.
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This post covers an assortment of motels, restaurants, and other businesses in Santa Barbara’s downtown. If you have more, send them my way and we’ll load them up.
Additional pictorial posts:
(A huge thank you to John Fritsche and Nathan Marsak for use of their historic images.)
 The Hotel Barbara with neon Hotel and Café signs. Hard to tell if the rooftop sign was neon, but given the purpose of rooftop hotel signs – to attract nighttime hotel seekers – it is very likely it was. (Nathan Marsak collection)  The Hotel Carrillo with neon above and below. (Nathan Marsak collection)
 The 101 Café, “The Home of Tender Steaks”, at 402 West Gutierrez Street, owned by Chris Prip. (C. T. Art, ColorTone, John Fritsche collection)  Mom’s Italian Village when neon was king and could pull you down a sidestreet in old Santa Barbara. 421 East Cota (E. B. Thomas, John Fritsche collection)  Neon on Milpas! Tiny’s Mexican Restaurant was located at 421 North Milpas. (McScoggin, John Fritsche collection)  Look closely at the middle picture and you’ll see Jimmy’s Oriental Gardens three neon signs. Owned by Chung-James Yee and located at 126 East Canon Perdido, Jimmy’s is a memory so recent I still savor my last meal there. (Elmo M. Sellars, John Fritsche collection)  Woman’s World, located at 1229 State Street, is a reminder that shops wore neon as proudly as motels and restaurants. This card was sent with hand-penned messages to customers when new clothing lines arrived. Ask for Mae Dempsey. (Duplicate Photo Lab, 1975, John Fritsche collection)  Across the street from Woman’s World, the Home of Hospitality, was Mrs. Kerry’s Dining Room. (Colourpicture, John Fritsche collection)  From State and Anapamu Streets you can see the neon signs for the Granada Men’s Shop, Grace Porter women’s wear, Anderson’s Camera, and further up the street, another shot of Kerry’s Restaurant with an intriguing neon of a chef. (Robert W. Moline, Hi-Fi, John Fritsche collection)  The Hughes and Federal Pharmacy showing classy neon. (Nathan Marsak collection)  1100 block of State showing the Granada, a beauty school and a fabric store, all sporting neon. (Nathan Marsak collection)  The Blue Onion, which became J. K. Frimple’s and then the IHOP. Located at 1701 State, this restaurant, with it’s 1886 Moreton Bay fig, has been a central fixture on State Street for decades. The neon, of course, is gone. (McGraw Color Graphics, John Fritsche collection)  The City Center Travelodge at 1816 State. Sometime later, simple green neon Hotel signs were added that remain today at the Fiesta Motel. (John Fritsche collection)  The Town House Motel at 1920 State Street. The colors! The cars! (Nathan Marsak collection) Go to the Uptown collection.
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Like Cabrillo, the upper State and Hollister Streets were neon celebrations.
If you have more, send them my way and we’ll load them up.
Additional pictorial posts:
(A huge thank you to John Fritsche and Nathan Marsak for use of their historic images.)
 The Pine Crest Lodge at 2429 Hollister. (The Albertype Company, John Fritsche collection)  The Sahara Motel at 2814 State. Desert anyone? (James Sturgeon, John Fritsche collection)  The Holiday Inn at 2825 State. (Forest Mathews, Foto-Color, John Fritsche collection)  At 2838 State, was the Echo Motel. T-V, that "blue, blue neon glow" (which would actually be argon) in neon. (Robert W. Moline, Hi-Fi, John Fritsche collection)  One of my favorites, The Flamingo, owned by Marie and Ed Ekstrom, was at 2843 State. (Colourpicture, John Fritsche collection)  The Lariat Motel at 2945 De La Vina. They featured Beautyrest matteresses, Panelray heat, free radios, and garages. Donnell and Maggie Goode, proprietors. (John Fritsche collection)  Reed Court at 3218 Hollister (back when Hollister ran the course of De La Vina). But even then there was neon. “For Tourists” (John Fritsche collection)  The El Carmen Motel at 3324 State Street. Television, Panelray heat, and the clear competitive advantage of the 1950s, “luxury without extravagance.” (Colourpicture, John Fritsche collection)  After the El Carmen, 3324 State was called the Bel Air Motel. A heated pool was added and now there were TVs in every room. (Claire C. Wood, Dexter Press, John Fritsche collection)  At 3344 State was the San Roque Motel, owned by Russell and Della West (Claire C. Woods, Dexter Press, John Fritsche collection)  The Blue Tower at 3412 State had a classic motor court and classic neon. Glenn and Theda Culp owners. (Colurpicture, John Fritsche collection)  Uncle John’s Pancake House was at 3514 State. I’m hungry now. (Color Card Corporation, John Fritsche collection)  Backed by fluorescent light, MOTEL was in neon. The Hacienda Motel was at 3643 State. (Claire C. Wood, Dexter Press, John Fritsche collection)  The Palm Springs tinged Town and Country Motel was located at 3740 State Street. (Robert W. Moline, Hi-Fi, John Fritsche collection)  Loop’s Restaurant at 3790 State. Loop’s famous neon sign over the freeway in Ventura has now been replaced by Ventura’s own neon sign. (Robert W. Moline, Hi-Fi, John Fritsche collection)  At last, another night shot! Lloyd’s took over Loop’s and replaced neon for neon. 3790 State Street. (M. L. Scoggin, 1966, John Fritsche collection)  The Sombrero Motel, with it’s wonderful neon sombrero, was at 3887 State Street. Billed as “Another Trevillian Hotel,” Trevillian also owned the Mar Monte on Cabrillo. (Howgen, Summerland, John Fritsche collection)  A hint of Goleta, the Swiss Chalet at 4500 Hollister, the home of “Strictly Home Cooking”, made quaint with neon. (Colourpicture, John Fritsche collection) Go to the Montecito collection.
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Yes, Montecito once supported a healthy neon farm. This is a small selection. As recently as 1986, Tutti’s, High Noon, Cita, The Grill, and Jugenson’s all had neon signs. Now the only neon on Coast Village is the Lucky’s sign tucked away from view.
If you have more, send them my way and we’ll load them up.
Additional pictorial posts:
(A huge thank you to John Fritsche and Nathan Marsak for use of their historic images.)
 Here’s a sign I wish I could find again. The Pink Cricket at 944 Coast Highway. “Dine in an atmosphere of charm. Santa Barbara’s New Supper Club. The best of charcoal-broiled foods. Cocktails. Dancing.” (Colourpicture, John Fritsche collection)  The Golf Motel was located at 1046 East Coast Highway. Playground for the kids, free coffee for the spouse, while you took your clubs down the road to the Montecito Country Club. (Colourpicture, John Fritsche collection)  Sea Captain’s Motel at 1100 Coast Village Road. Thanks for the inset to show off your neon sign. (Robert W. Moline, Hi-Fi, John Fritsche collection)  At 1188 Old Coast Highway, the De Anza Motel, owned by Mr. and Mrs. Roy Snyder, offered a heated pool. (Claire C. Wood, Dexter Press, John Fritsche collection)  The famous Miramar with early neon over the main building. (John Fristche collection) Go to the Cabrillo Boulevard collection.
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Santa Barbara was a neon town in 1957. But that was the beginning of the end. Today, neon is distinctly rarified in Santa Barbara. Of the thirteen signs left, only six are in perfect working order. One of those six may be disappearing as the establishment goes through a remodel. Of the remaining seven, three have been turned off indefinitely. One is off until repairs can be made in the next month or so. And the remaining three are on, but have missing lights or letters.
In my previous post, I covered Santa Barbara’s neon hey-days, with movie theaters and downtown hotels setting the pace for an efflorescence of neon signage that swept Santa Barbara like a tsunami. But like a tsunami, the water is receding and taking with it the final remnants of Santa Barbara’s neon culture.
 The De Riviera Hotel sign, still up, but no longer lit. The Beginning of the End
Santa Barbara first regulated commercial signs in Ordinance 169, approved by the city council on May 17, 1888. That ordinance distinguished between signs completely on your place of business, and those impinging over public areas such as sidewalks or streets. The ordinance stated that signs will “occupy no space over such street or sidewalk.”
However, with some buildings built to the edge of the property, that meant that either signs were painted on the wall, or roof signs were put up
The ordinance went on the books and remained there for several decades, but from period photos it does not appear that it was strictly enforced.
 State Street, 1905. Signs are generally flush with the building fronts. Only one sign, just into the next block, protrudes over the sidewalk. (Pacific Rim Library collection) In 1906, the city council took another stab with “Ordinance 540, An Ordinance to Permit and Regulate the Construction and Maintenance of Electrically Illuminated Signs Over Sidewalks.” By this time the city council had given up on prohibiting signs over sidewalks and simply determined to regulate how far over the sidewalks signs could project. And, while neon had not yet arrived on the scene, electrical signs were clearly proliferating since the ordinance does not refer to painted signs.
Ordinance 540 required an approval process for signs in the city for the first time. The sole approver was the Superintendent of Streets. Plans and drawings were required and a written description of the proposed sign placement.
Section 3 of the code called for a Jekell-Hyde kind of system. “Such signs shall be so constructed as not to project over the sidewalk more than sixteen inches during the daytime, nor more than eleven feet at night, and shall be so constructed as to fold back against the wall on which they are fastened and shall be kept folded back during all times when not lighted.” The signs had to be ten feet or more above the sidewalk.
The ordinance did not apply to signs “entirely upon private property.”
The requirement to obtain approval, and the use of public space for advertising of any kind, remain hot spots in the law today.
Other ordinances rolled in over the years, but the heat rose in 1957 with the passage of an ordinance that outlawed moving or sequentially-lit signs of any kind. Like many of the sign law changes that came in later, the law was approved, but enforcement of the law was delayed for a period of five years to allow businesses with such signs a chance to comply.
Modern Neon, a leading neon sign designer and builder in Santa Barbara for over 15 years at that point, brought suit against the city. Signs such as Dana’s Toy Town which depicted a jack-in-the-box popping up, and the Fox Arlington which revolved, would be outlawed. The choice was to cripple the sign by making it light up without movement, or create a new sign. Modern Neon argued that the law applied inconsistently to businesses and was based on aesthetic grounds.
In 1960, in a surprising defeat to the city, Modern Neon won their suit. Numerous signs across town were saved.
El Pueblo Viejo
That same year, Santa Barbara created El Pueblo Viejo, the old city. The old city is an overlay on top of Santa Barbara where the city wished to enforce stricter standards. El Pueblo lays over downtown like an impregnated “L.” It runs from the corner of Mission and State, down State to Cabrillo where it shoots all the way down to the Andree Clark Bird Refuge. A spur hooks back along Cabrillo to Castillo and up Castillo to where the 7-11 meets the vacant lot across from the stylish J. J. Liquors and the Chevron station on the other corner. The pregnant portion of El Pueblo Viejo starts at Sola Street. The district spreads over to Chapala Street on the west and to Laguna Street on the east. The eastern bulge drops down to Ortega and comes back to State Street. The Chapala corridor runs all the way to the beach. It could as easily be called La Zona de las Turistas.
El Pueblo Viejo, though, would not impact signage separately. Not yet.
In 1961, the city drafted a revised sign ordinance, according to Stanley T. Tomlinson, the city attorney at the time, “somewhat under the aura, or cloud, of the city’s defeat in the Modern Neon case.” The ordinance was finally passed in April of 1962, and succeeded in outlawing signs that revolved, moved, or displayed movement. It also outlawed large roof signs. And in the city of shrinking signs, the ordinance reduced the allowable sign size, determined by the square footage of the buildings frontage, by 50%.
 Carrillo Hotel and sign, ca 1960 (Nathan Marsak collection) Carrillo Hotel was asked to remove their sign, and owner Harold Smith brought in the venerable Santa Barbara law firm Price, Postel and Parma. They argued against the ordinance saying the law addressed aesthetics only, and was therefore illegal. The law was also described as a quasi-criminal statute given the penalties that could be applied. Other companies listed in the suit included the Ambassador by the Sea Motel owned by Milton Weinstein, and Greyhound Bus.
Greyhound argued that their sign was not for advertising, but to help people find the station.
 Greyhound’s original signage, 1951, was a vertical BUS sign, glimpsed above the Fiesta girls. (Pacific Rim Library collection) Hansen F. Hill, City Building Director, issued a handful of 10-day removal notices but did not issue citations. There were 435 non-compliant locations. But as business owners flooded the city with complaints about the ordinance, Mayor Edward Abbott stopped the enforcement proceedings saying “there must be something wrong with the ordinance if there are so many objections from businessmen to compliance.”
Abbott created the first Sign Committee comprised of Gerald S. Firestone, Ward Scott, and Ray Wilson, and charged them with reviewing the 435 locations. As a result, few existing signs were ultimately affected by the law.
But signage was everywhere, both good and bad. It was in the culture, as well. Strip malls, built to cater to the growing numbers of automobiles, were blossoming in Santa Barbara. Upper De La Vina, upper State, the San Roque area, Montecito, and Goleta all spread strip malls along the major thoroughfares. Downtown, buildings edged to the sidewalks and businesses elbowed their signs out over those sidewalks on poles, brackets, and roof eaves. Signs poked out in front of every business, most of them lit, and by the 1960s, many were also neon.
 The Sahara Motel at 2814 State Street ca. 1950 (John Fritsche) Ladybird Johnson, using her platform as first lady, launched a national campaign against unsightly gas stations and billboards in the early 60s. Santa Barbara took up the reins in full stride.
Fueled by the times, the city council continued to look for ways to curb the clutter. The next sign ordinance attacked one of the root causes of the clutter – pole signs. In 1965, the city, stating that signs projecting over public property are a misuse of public property, outlawed all new pole signs. Since many pole signs were neon, especially those in front of gas stations and motels, the council was indirectly targeting those businesses. Existing signs were not addressed.
Jack Gray, representative of the California Electric Sign Association, spoke against the new ordinance, stating that even City Hall should have a neon sign to make it easier to find, better lit, and more current with the times.
Local resident Gerald Mentrio disagreed. Mentrio said the proliferation of signage in Santa Barbara was “reducing Santa Barbara to a level of mediocrity only slightly less repulsive than other cities.” He blamed “blatant commercialism” and the “leperous pox of pole signs.”
Neon Teeth
Ten years went by and enforcement was weak and results were less than satisfying. Pole signs continued to proliferate. In November of 1975, a law went on the books that made all pole signs illegal, and made exposed neon illegal in the El Pueblo district. The law stated that signs must “enhance the special character of the district and the buildings on which they are placed.” A five year moratorium was allowed for removal. Business owners like Harold Sumida of La Sumida Nursery and Josiah Jenkins of Jedlicka’s stepped up early to contest the law as purely aesthetic and as arbitrary, expensive, detrimental to business. Others voiced concerns that the sign (and architectural) laws would make Santa Barbara a homogenous town. There were some 600 non-compliant signs at the time.
 TraveLodge at 22 Castillo with a non-compliant sign. (John Fritsche collection) The law once again reduced allowable sign sizes by 33 to 50 %, making many signs 25% of their originally allowed size.
During the simmering period between enactment and enforcement, the city formed the first official Sign Committee as an adjunct to the Architectural Board of Review and the Landmarks Committee. In 1981, it was given greater autonomy and power as sign applications and complaints were routed through their review and approval process.
By November 1980, when the law went into effect, there were still 500 pole signs up. Dan Schminke of D&J Arco at Montecito and Anacapa streets reported in public hearings that he had taken his sign down that February in compliance with the ordinance, and had promptly seen an 80% drop in business. He shut down his pumps in September.
Now, with letters of compliance going out to hundreds of businesses, the city was besieged with complaints. The council retreated, but only on the date. They set a new deadline for removal of April 1982. By January of ’82, 300 signs of the original 600 were down. In the next two months all but 13 pole signs came down. Jedlicka’s moved their sign from a pole to their roof. La Sumida was allowed a variance because they had removed the text (Japanese characters spelling out Sumida) from the signs and now displayed just the Japanese torii as an architectural element. Two other businesses were given variances because the signs were historic. One of these was the De Riviera Hotel on Carrillo.
 The Jedlicka’s sign as it appears today. For two years, the last few business owners with pole signs put up a bitter battle. Pep Boys, ducking under their corporate umbrella, removed their sign in March of 1984. The last hold-out was Loreto Plaza, and that sign too, was finally removed and replaced with a monument sign later that year.
A Little Paradise
In the meantime, numerous neon signs in El Pueblo Viejo were grandfathered in. Santa Barbarans who loved the old (and new) neon, could feel relieved. Maybe they felt the past had been preserved. But if the past has any lessons for us, the first is that the present is consistently less stable than what came before.
Randy Rowse, owner of the Paradise Café at the corner of Cota and Anacapa, recalled the battles they had with the city over the modification of their sign. Randy, with partner Kevin Boss, took over the former La Paloma Café in 1981. The pole and neon sign battle was in full swing. The city was not interested in retreating. New businesses needed to install the new signs.
The partners gave the matter careful consideration before applying for a permit. They chose the name Paradise for their new café, in part because Santa Barbara is that, but in part because the name had the same number of letters as La Paloma. They could change the green La Paloma and keep the red Café.
 Paradise Café neon throws a little warmth over a rainy day. Their permit stalled at the Sign Committee where it took just one protest to deny the permit. They appealed to the City Council. At the appeals meeting, they presented a slide show of the classic neons in Santa Barbara – Joe’s, the Biltmore, El Encanto, the Arlington Theater – and argued that the Paradise sign was in the vein of traditional signage.
As the council prepared to vote, council member and former UCSB provost, Lloyd Reynolds, took the floor. He recalled his boyhood in Santa Barbara, and the years during World War II. The city, so close to the coast, was blanketed with black-outs during the Pacific theater period of the war, and Lloyd recalled that the first lights he saw flickering back on were the old neon signs. Rowse said, “People were practically crying when he was done.”
The council approved the modification, but the vote was not unanimous. Mayor Sheila Lodge was the single dissenting vote. Many years later, Mayor Lodge would tell Rowse that ‘lots of this stuff’ – the aesthetic engineering of downtown – ‘didn’t work as we expected.’
 The Joe’s Café neon sign, missing a few letters, is a Santa Barbara tradition since 1954. (The restaurant is now the oldest in Santa Barbara, in business since 1925.) A year later, when Joe’s Café requested a permit to move their sign from 512 Sate to 536 State Rowse said, “they practically carried it up the street for them.”
Last Lights
Starting in 1922, Santa Barbara set out to reinvent itself. A significant aspect of that reinvention had to do with the signs that flagged the businesses in town. Increasingly over the last century, a business’ ideas of how to market themselves went through regulatory filters, passed before appointed panels, and met with complaint and correction.
The permit process in Santa Barbara is notably slow and expensive compared to other places. But Santa Barbara, like an escort service, cannot afford to skimp. The businesses that are here have paid that price already, and one hopes, have seen the benefits as streams of picture-snapping tourists flow past and through their doors.
It is also true that laws must be written in a clear and focused manner. It would be difficult at best to allow new neon ‘classics,’ while disallowing other uses. Who knew, in 1954 when Harry Davis, who had just purchased the lease at Joe’s Café, called Eldon Abbey of Modern Neon and ordered his sign, that it would be photographed as much, and loved as deeply, (maybe a slight exaggeration) as the Mission itself.
Over the years since 1981 when the no-neon law went into effect, hundreds of signs have disappeared. Many were victim of the pole sign law, and when they were replaced, of course, became victim of the no-neon law. Those that were not on poles, or that were grandfathered, or stood outside the El Pueblo Viejo, have disappeared like childhood friends. The few that remain today become more cherished.
I’ll cover each remaining sign and something of their history in a coming post, The Santa Barbara Neon Driving Tour.
Previous posts on neon:
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