West Main, Pacific, Atlantic, Nona, Fisher, Cole, Love, and so many more.Īnd the memories come flooding back. Up Palm Avenue, and I drive through the streets of the old town: East and There were few secrets in Old Highland!Įvery now and then I make a detour when I am driving People cared about each other and wanted to know Had hung the quarantine notice on the front porch. When my mother pushed up the sash, Grace Brown, who lived next door andĪuntie Brown, would announce, “Say now, have you heard. House on Main Street and hearing a tap-tap-tapping on the kitchen window. I can remember sitting at the kitchen table at our Were involved in each others’ lives, and, as in all villages, news spread Of a place I call my Highland – the village where no man was an island. And my memories of the 1930s, 1940s, and even the 1950s, are Not barriers, and this valley as a kind of Eden. I have always thought of our mountains as shelters, To drive visitors up Palm Avenue to show them an authentic example of an I remember hearing some of them say that they liked Mountains, and people from Los Angeles and Orange County frequently Palm Avenue was the main thoroughfare to the Out my arm and tough them with my fingertips. Strong north winds, looking at the mountains and thinking I could stretch I can remember, as a child, after a night of What a sight it was to see the black snowĬovering the streets, sidewalks, and gardens of Highland the next morning!īut when smudge didn’t fill the air, it wasīreathlessly clear and clean. One year, in the late ‘40s, we had an unusual 5 or 6 Smudge pots dotted every grove, and when they had toīe lighted to warm the trees, the whole town woke up the next morning with House dared make a noise until they heard whether or not it was expected Men in the family would huddle around the radio, and no one else in the When the frost report came on the evening news, the It was hard work, and financial success in any year depended to a greatĮxtent on the weather. That they could always find a tree that had off-season blooms for anīut growing oranges was not as romantic as it sounds. It was traditional for brides to have a sprig of Surrounded by groves of navel and Valencia oranges. A beautiful spot, tucked at the base of the mountains, “no man is an island.” This is perhaps truer in village life than anyĪ village. Highland California Historic District Story Map by Colin Childs Eighty-one homes, 20 commercial buildings, churches, and community halls are in this original historical township area. In connection with an environmental report in 1990 on the extension of the Cross-town Freeway this area was designated an historic district in the National Register of Historic Sites (01000333 NRIS), depicting the old-town area of Highland’s townsite as fine example of an early citrus town in Southern California. Covering 290 acres and with 99 contributing buildings, the area is recognized in the National Register of Historic Places. By Nona Avenue to the north, Main Street to the south, Orange Street to the west and ChurchĪvenue to the east, the Highland Historic DistrictĬontains an interesting blend of early 1900s architecture, including Craftsman Bungalows, Victorian-influenced designs, Gothic Revival and early commercial styles.
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