The Starbucks place used to be a Jack in the box. Across the street behind that truck is Harrys old Market. You have forced me to do this:
An old guy remembers Mission Beach Amusement Center.
I first set eyes on the park in 1946. It was an Amusement Center that provided many years of fun for families and military personnel. It covered several blocks and was on the Pacific Ocean. My Dad had a background from years ago of his life as a concessionaire in the Carnivals so he was once again romanced into the idea by an ad about a concession for sale in the Amusement Center. He took me with him when he went to see it. It turned out to be a game called “knock Mabel out of bed” in which a young lady was perched on a bed behind a chain link cage and if the player threw a baseball and hit a target, she tumbled out of bed.
Dad was still working at Convair (later General Dynamics/Convair) days but he bought the concession called a “joint” in Carny talk. He worked at Convair till 3:30, came home, ate and headed out to Mission Beach where he ran his joint until 10 or 11. I can hear him now, “hey mate step right up and knock Mabel out of bed, three balls for a dime, and nine for a quarter”.
To a kid the park was magic, smells, sights, sounds all unheard previously by this 10 year old boy. Time went by, Dad bought another joint, then another and soon he became one of three partners in the ownership of “The Mission Beach Company”. That lasted a few years and Dad bought out his two partners and became sole owner operator of the Park.
I ran a couple of concessions that Dad let me run for myself over the years and bought my first car (41 Chevy) by working all summer of my 17[SUP]th[/SUP] year on the maintenance crew..
We had a huge Ballroom, the biggest in San Diego, an Olympic pool, a long midway with concessions and a large Skating Rink. There was an underpass from the midway to the bay that went under both sides of Mission Blvd. and down there were huge doors that led into big concrete rooms in which all kinds of goodies were stored, most from the Twenties. Old canoes, hand crank girly picture shows, all kinds of props and things. I was allowed to go there when I wanted and explore. It was wonderful for a curious boy.
The Roller Coaster, most probably don’t know there was a tunnel build into the structure and around 1953 the guy who leased it from Dad was trying to destroy some paperwork so the IRS couldn’t get it and he tried to burn them in that tunnel, the fire got out of control and he was trapped, burned to death.
There was a huge Penny Arcade which Dad kept as his own concession and ran. Between 1951-2 we lived in a two level apartment in the back of the Arcade. It was so much fun.
In the Ballroom where I met and watched from our private box on the balcony every big name band of the era had some secrets too. Built into the Balcony were three apartments that were for VIP parties during dances, thought we never used them they were used in the twenties and thirties. But in each room were boxes of publicity pics, newspaper mats used to advertise our dances, etc. We had one dance a week in summer, less frequent during winter. All the big names played there in our Ballroom.
I was by this time in High school so I could go anywhere, do anything I wanted by just going and doing, all free of course. I would take dates through the park, the rides, and even an occasional dance.
In 1956 the city would not renew the lease on the property and instead demolished the ballroom, most of the midway, most of the Oceanside concessions, and the mini golf course, and rides. What little was left was called Belmont Park. Not even a ghost of what had been there before. A note of interest, Dad, as I said worked at Convair a couple of years at the tail end of the war as an hourly in the wood mockup shop. He died the year before I went to work there and worked my way up from an hourly raw stock handler to a supervisor of all material procured for all programs with 25 analysts working directly for me spend millions of dollars. I’ve often thought he would have been proud of his son, who spent 30 years working at his old work place. I retired in 1991.
There’s a million memories and as many stories but another time perhaps.
