Angeles Vista Boulevard

In 1939, we moved to a home that I recall very well, 5324 Angeles Vista Boulevard in southwest Los Angeles. It was a new type house for the day, with steel wall paneling on the outside, and radiant heating in the floors. We lived there for the next five years. This was an exciting neighborhood for young boys. Next to the house was a vacant lot where we constructed an underground fort. And beyond that was a military academy complete with horses, corral and parade grounds. In back of the house, leading down from the academy, was a steep alley, ideal for racing soap box derby racers. Across the boulevard were acres and acres of rolling hills covered by fields of lima beans which served ideally for exploration. There was also a gully nearby with a small stream, a large, approximately five foot in diameter concrete conduit, which represented further exploration possibilities, and wild licorice plants in the stream bed. About a block down the boulevard lived a man who had several pet chimpanzees which he apparently rented out to the movie studios. He had erected a bleacher gallery and stage, and gave periodic shows for the neighborhood kids wherein his movie star chimps rode bicycles, played house, and performed for the delighted audiences. In the backyard, we placed a bale of hay which served as target for bow and arrow practice. There was also a tetherball standard and horseshoe pit that we constructed. On the side of the house was a nice lawn which made a fine miniature football field or softball diamond. Our cousins, Neil and Richard Christenson, lived only a few blocks away from us at the time, and we used to have some vigorous games with them and other neighborhood friends. ⁵⁴

I’m sure that this home and locale were a real favorite with Mom, since we remained here for five years—our longest place of residence up until that point. Moreover, as Drew and I got older and became more teachable and accountable, Mom and Dad were now able to expand and accelerate our training. We began to learn the value of work, responsibility, and dependability. We were taught how to make our beds, clean our rooms, and how to attend to chores around the home, such as mowing the lawn, weeding the garden, sweeping the garage, and taking care of an animal. Other lessons were taught, too:

I recall learning the value of money and hard work. I went around to various neighbor's homes, and inquired if I could mow their lawns. When asked how much I charged, on the advice of my parents, I told them, ‘Whatever you think its worth.’ I got several good jobs with this approach. I also had an early morning paper route at 4:30 AM for the Los Angeles Times, which was a good learning experience. We had a blond Pomeranian dog, Sandy, which uncle Luther (Dad's brother, a veterinarian) had obtained for us. I remember that he used to howl whenever Dad would play his violin and we would sing during family nights. But we all loved him dearly. It was one of the saddest days of my young life, on my birthday, my tenth, I think, when the dog was run over by a car out in front. He loved to chase cars and motorcycles. When asked what I wanted for my birthday, with tears streaming down my cheeks and a heavy heart, all that I could think of was my dog, Sandy. Drew and I, especially Drew, learned a valuable lesson in dependability. We apparently had been naughty, and Dad instructed us to go out into the back yard and each choose a willow with which he intended to spank us. I chose a fairly stout switch with which to carry out the sentence. However, Drew apparently thought that he could pull a fast one, and so selected a soft, pulpy specimen. When we came back in, Dad took one look and switched willows. Drew got his spanking with the firm, pliable willow, and I received mine with the soft pulpy one. ⁵⁵

Other areas important to Mom about which she felt prompted to have me initiated were etiquette and the social graces, plus dancing and music appreciation. Accordingly, she regularly stressed proper table manners and social niceties, such as maintaining a comely appearance with neat attire, opening doors for the gentler sex, and writing thank you notes.

I also recall being enrolled in dancing classes at the Arthur Murray Dance Studio on Crenshaw Boulevard near our home, where along with other equally uncomfortable young participants, I learned about the waltz, foxtrot, tango and the cha-cha-cha. But I’m quick to admit that her efforts here did not result in big dividends!

Concerning music appreciation:

Music became an important part of my life at this time as well, as I began to learn to play the piano. My first teacher was Gwendolyn Lund (husband Herschel), a friend of my parents. I began eagerly. The first, full piece I learned and committed to memory was Whispering Willows, and I remember being quite pleased with the accomplishment. As Gwen had her students play in recitals, I recall later performing this piece (in truth, a much abbreviated beginning piano student's rendition) with the other students and their parents assembled in her front room. Subsequently, I recall playing more advanced numbers–duets with Gwen on the piano (Kinder Concerto by Beethoven), and also with Dad accompanying on the violin. After a couple of years of practice, Gwen's son, David, and another of our friends, Roger Sant, and I formed a trio. They each played the flute, and I accompanied on the piano. We played around the stake in various capacities, which was quite a thrill for us as pre-teens. ⁵⁶

Moreover, living in glamorous, radiant Southern California, the movie capital of the world, I also remember several interesting experiences. One was being taken to the glitzy Grumman Chinese Movie Theatre to see a new movie with Mom and Dad, and then standing at the feet of the seven foot tall, uniformed usher—the tallest man I had ever seen—to stare up in awe at his towering head.

On another occasion while out for a family drive one Sunday afternoon, as we came to a stop on Sepulveda Boulevard in West Los Angeles, the car of Shirley Temple and her parents stopped alongside and Shirley waved to us. She evidently recognized Dad, who, as he explained later, had been in their home demonstrating Club Aluminum ware. I was duly impressed by the gesture, since, having already seen a number of her movies, I thought her pretty and attractive.

Likewise, during this same time while pursuing his love of fine automobiles, Dad purchased the former convertible roadster of actress Gloria Graham. As young boys, Drew and I knew next to nothing about Gloria as an actress, but we surely appreciated her taste in sports cars, especially since this one had a rumble seat.

In company with several thousand other cheering spectators, one other encounter with notable people took place on another day as we looked down on President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s motorcade slowly moving along the Pacific Coast Highway. Situated on an eminence in a park above the road, we viewed everything from just fifteen feet away.

I recall a final experience, also about this time, occurring at a birthday party being held in my honor, perhaps my ninth or tenth. Mom and Dad had arranged for a festive event at our home, with perhaps a dozen or so of my little friends to celebrate. There were banners, balloons, cake and ice cream, and games—including spanks for me according to the number of birthday years being celebrated.

Mom gently held me while my friends took turns in reminding me of my age. Thinking to be clever and avoid a blow or two, as one of the participants began the spanks, I suddenly stood up—smacking Mom squarely in the nose with my head. It was an innocent gesture without much forethought on my part, but her nose began to bleed profusely. She had to excuse herself from the party. I was very embarrassed and justly remorseful for what happened. The unfortunate incident put a damper on the festivities.

<><><><>

Continuing on with the story, as we consider the Angeles Vista Boulevard era experiences:

The year 1941 was eventful. It was the year that my sisters, Suzanne and Diane, were born on the 24th and 25th of June, twenty [eight] minutes apart. Sue was born just before midnight. ⁵⁷ Diane was born just afterwards. ⁵⁸ I remember when Mom and Dad brought them home from the hospital, and how tiny they both appeared to us. Both had birthmarks on top of their heads, and according to the physician's instructions, these were to be frozen off with dry ice. I also recall sitting with the family at Sunday dinner on December 7th, and hearing the announcement of the Pearl Harbor attack which thrust our country into the Second World War. War time brought new experiences as well as restrictions. Sugar, tin cans, rubber, and gasoline, of course, were all rationed. We collected tin cans during scrap metal drives. The tin cans would be compressed, and then made into weapons to fight the war. I had my own victory garden in the back yard, where I first learned how to grow and harvest plants. School was interesting at this time. Periodic air raid practices were held, and we would get under our desks as the buzzer or siren sounded. We also had demonstrations at the school of the new Jeep, the four wheeled car that could climb the outside stairs of the school…. Because of the tire shortage, Dad bought a used 1938 Lincoln chauffeur car with a roll up window separating the front from the back of the car, jump seats, speaker system to the front seat, and many other extras–including brand new heavy duty tires. What fun we had riding in that car. Drew and I had a great time talking through the inner-com system, and saying, "Home James!" It made an ideal car, too, for travel back to Salt Lake City on our yearly summer vacations…. I have some fond remembrances of Grandma and Grandpa Howells at this time. They lived in a stately, old house on West Temple Street. Grandpa was the former Sheriff of Salt Lake County, and in the basement were guns and weapons from the criminals he had apprehended, through which we enjoyed rummaging. Downstairs, too, was a coal furnace with a coal hopper into which we were permitted to shovel coal from time to time. On the main floor were the front room, dining room, parlor, and master bedroom. Especially interesting to us was the fact that they had a large bed which actually rolled into the wall. Above the portion of the wall into which the bed rolled was the master bathroom, complete with high legged bathtub, and commode with attached pull handle. Grandma's kitchen had a big black, coal burning stove. And I remember that Grandpa loved to eat Kellogg's Corn Flakes and cornmeal mush, both of which I came to enjoy as well. Upstairs were several bedrooms, along with a study containing shelves of intriguing books. In the backyard were a barn, and Grandpa's large garden and orchard. The old barn provided great fun while playing hide-and-go-seek, and jumping in the haystacks with our next door cousins (Karen, Jerry, Tim, Dan and Bob Howells) and other neighborhood pals. Grandpa's sisters, Aunt Ann and Aunt Mag, lived across the street. They were always anxious to give us ginger snaps and special treats. In their front yard was a well with a pull bucket and mineral tainted water. In the back yard was an old railroad pump car. I can also remember Grandpa giving us pennies and telling us with a chuckle, ‘Here's a copper for you. Don't spend it all in one place!’ …. The year 1944, when I was twelve, was memorable. Grandpa Howells passed away on April 22nd. ⁵⁹ Mom went up to Salt Lake City to attend the funeral. On the 30th of the month, I was ordained a deacon in the Arlington Ward, Los Angeles Stake. I have vague memories of helping to build the ward house in company with Dad, Drew and other brethren in the Church. I can also recall President David O. McKay, who was Second Counselor in the First Presidency at the time, coming to dedicate the building. Mom sang a solo, Bless This House, O Lord, at those services. In May, Mom and I received our patriarchal blessings from Patriarch George T. Wride of the Los Angeles Stake. We went to his home, and before the blessings talked for several minutes, during which time we found out about one another. Then the blessings were given. His daughter was the secretary, and took down notes in shorthand to be typed later. I had fasted for the occasion at Mom's suggestion, and upon returning home, being very spiritually touched, knelt down by my bed in gratitude. It was one of my early, inspirational experiences. Since then, I have always tried to use this special blessing as a blueprint by which to pattern my life's goals and activities. ⁶⁰

In Mom’s blessing given that day, 21 May 1944, are found choice promises, which in retrospect have seen fulfillment in her relationships with us, her children:

Thy influence shall reach afar and thy words dropped unaware shall be likened unto seeds that fall and grow and reproduce again and again unto eternity…. I bless thee with courage to face the future, with constancy to persevere, with the tactfulness of a wise woman and home-maker, with an attraction that draws thy children, and with a firm hold upon their heartstrings that shall shape and guide them unto the ways of safety and happiness…. ⁶¹

<><><><>

The Second World War dragged on, and in its wake took many tolls, overseas as well as on the home front. Like many others, our family tried hard to do its part and to lend support. Dad, for example, gave periodic talks at various business enterprises in order to raise money for the war effort through pay roll deductions and war bond purchases ⁶²; while Mom, at home, encouraged a home garden, collected items for scrap drives, and prepared our meals around many rationed food items.

Because of the ongoing war and the resultant lack of raw material, Dad’s employer, the Century Metalcraft Corporation was forced to discontinue its sales activity as of November 15, 1942, for the duration… ⁶³ Their full production was consequently diverted from cooking utensils to military products. And, as a result, after twelve successful years with the company, he was obligated to find other work:

Dad therefore took a job with Occidental Life Insurance Company. He sold with them in Los Angeles for about two years. Then, in short order, he was selected to be assistant manager of the San Francisco New Montgomery Street Office. And so in April 1944, he moved to the San Francisco Bay area. We followed in June. ⁶⁴

We have only a few details of Mom’s day to day activities during their residence on Angeles Vista Boulevard.

Since Mom did not yet have a driver’s license, she had to walk to the grocery store. She told the story of wheeling the twins down the hill, loading the groceries into the double stroller, and wheeling it several long blocks back up the hill. She said that she felt like a d—n mule!

Another story she also enjoyed telling was about the day the secretary from the military academy behind the house came over and asked her if everything was all right. The faculty had noticed the large number of diapers hanging on the line each day and couldn’t imagine what was going on. Mom explained that every thing was fine, just a little chaotic. She had just had twins!

She also complained that while one twin was in the front of the house making a mess, the other would be in the back doing the same thing. Potty training became a nightmare. When she was working to train one in the bathroom, the other would go behind the couch in the living room. It seems that having twins at nearly thirty-nine years of age was one of her greater challenges.

Finally, one last interesting bit of history concerning that time frame, mainly about Dad, has survived. Immediately prior to Dad’s departure for Northern California in April 1944, the Arlington Ward evidently held a farewell party in his honor. We have a copy of the skit that was presented at the time. The author is unknown. It gives a glimpse of some of his Church activities while living in the ward, as well as, in a humorous way, how the family was perceived and appreciated. The gist of the spoof has Dad and Mom visiting the Arlington Ward six years earlier:

The next scene, six years later, on 26 March 1944, shows Dad still teaching the same class—talking about his mission in Germany. A student holds up his hand and asks: How long are you going to teach us, Brother Christenson? Oh, I’m going to be here only a couple of more weeks, Dad responds. They’ve promised to get someone for this class by then.

The narrator then continues: These ‘Arlingtonites’ [also] convinced Wendell to teach a Mutual class and to be a ward leader of the High Priests Quorum in addition to his Sunday School duties. (What could we do…he’s bigger than us?) Then the satire continues on for several scenes about his musical abilities over the years in the ward, playing the violin and singing.

Backtracking in time, the narrator then says: If you will be patient, we shall take you up on Angeles Vista Boulevard and give you a small glimpse of our hero’s home life. This scene, in keeping with [the] precise chronological sequence of this [skit] is set in 1941. It is evening at the Christenson homestead; all is calm; the family has settled down for a quiet evening at home…Bart, age 9, is practicing the piano. (He loves it so—just a chip off the old block.) Drew [age 5] has caught his head in the floor ventilator.

The scene opens to bedlam, with the two boys making most of the noise. Wendell standing before the mirror, primping, says: Do you think I look my usual well-turned-out self tonight, Nance? I’m going to the ward for a meeting. Mom, entering the room in a house apron, wiping her hands, retorts: Oh, so you are going down to that Church again, are you? You are always at Church. You leave me home to take care of these kids night after night. Bart faintly remembers you…and Drew thinks you are some Mormon relative from Utah who doesn’t know what a hotel is. The children don’t even know their own father. I’m telling you, Wendell Christenson, you’ll never have another child as long as this goes on! And then…before we knew it…

The next scene is a simulated waiting room, with Dad pacing up and down, looking anxious and worried. A nurse enters and says: You’re a father, Mr. Christenson. You have twin girls! Dad exclaims, Twins! ...and faints.

Several more scenes depict Dad playing his violin or singing at various ward functions—always on short notice. Then the narrator notes: Then for the longest time, at least a week, we see nothing of our hero at the rostrum…. There is talk of making him chorister. But instead of giving him the job with the honors it entails, he becomes the impromptu chorister and just leads the singing at Sunday School and Mutual and Sacrament Meeting and Primary. It is not possible for him to make Relief Society, because he sleeps late….Of course, we could go on and on with intimate glimpses into the life of our hero and heroine…but they do deserve some little private life. We could tell you that Wendell, like Beethoven, is a long-haired music lover. Nance likes hers kind of bobbed. Wendell paints…not houses… [but] for his own amusement and [to] the amazement of his friends. He is also considered in some circles to be a darn good cook. Why do they say that?

The last scene opens with Dad again teaching the same class: And that’s why Abraham took Isaac up into the hills—to offer him as a sacrifice. But he turned and saw a beef in the thicket…Say, let’s have a picnic at Elysian park…with steaks!

The skit ends with the narrator concluding: And now it comes, as it does to all men, the moment that we must part. The Christenson’s are pioneers. They are assembling all their heavy clothing; they’ve got their passports; they are learning the new language…and they are going to San Francisco.

We wish Wendell our heartiest good wishes. May he have all the success he deserves in his new position…and new life. ⁶⁵

Website Home   |   Contact Me
Copyright 2007 - 2008, W. Bart. Christenson, Jr.
Terms of Use: Material may be used for non-commercial purposes.
Please cite this source so readers can check back for updates.
All other rights reserved.