Pomona A to Z: July 2008 Archives

[My encore of "Pomona A to Z" is complete, but here's a followup column -- originally published July 3, 2005 -- of reader reaction to the series.

As a final note, "A to Z" taught me a lot about Pomona and since then I've learned how little I knew when I wrote it. Hope you've enjoyed reading, or rereading, these columns anyway.]

Readers 'letter rip' on A to Z

With the 26-part series "Pomona A to Z" having ended, some readers are having trouble letting go.

"Don't you have any more letters?" Pomona Councilman George Hunter asked me after Z for Zanja. "Could you do some diphthongs?"

Complex vowel sounds aside, I'm sorry to see the series end too. After all, for 26 Sundays I always knew where my next column was coming from. Now what?

"Perhaps you should reprise 'A to Z' for all Inland Valley cities," C.J. Fogel, a former newsroom colleague, wrote to suggest. "Or how about 'A to Z' but using Khmer, the world's largest alphabet? Moving on from 'tha,' we now have 'pha'..."

Well, yours truly wrote about pho, so why not pha?

I brought my A-game to "A to Z," hoping to have fun -- and I did -- while nudging people into looking at Pomona in a new light. It was successful, at least up to a point.

Jim Downs, a 28-year resident of Ontario, said he enjoyed reading about the valley's other big city.

"I found out some interesting things about Pomona each week, and I even thought about going to see one or two of them," Downs wrote. "But then I thought, 'It is Pomona!'"

You say that like it's a bad thing.

"An underrated city" is how reader David Fleury described Pomona, and he's got it exactly right.

Fleury, who spent 24 years in Pomona, insisted he learned "so much" from my series, which is quite a compliment. He can't have learned more than I did, though.

I knew very little about Pomona going into "A to Z." Even now I know just a smidge -- but it's a good smidge.

Thanks to everyone who nominated people, places and things, by the way. True, I could have done the series without you. But it would have stunk.

Will there be another "A to Z"? Probably.

Downs, the Ontario resident quoted above, requested an "Ontario A to Z."

With such a series, "we could discover some little-known or forgotten facts about Ontario with which we could wow and amaze our friends in other humdrum communities not nearly as interesting as our area! Whaddaya think?"

It's a great idea, but I do have one worry.

What if people from Pomona refuse to check out the attractions because, after all, "It IS Ontario"?

You may recall that I stole the alphabet concept from a fine, funny PBS documentary by Rick Sebak, "Pittsburgh A to Z."

I recently shipped off all 26 columns to Sebak, who was so excited he wrote me, then called me.

Turns out the Bard of Pittsburgh had already quoted me on the back of the DVD version of "A to Z" (available at www.wqed.org), and how cool is that?

Sebak called my series "totally fun to read" and encouraged me to do more. The "A to Z" concept, incidentally, wasn't even his -- a Pittsburgh museum official suggested it.

"You can't copyright the letters of the alphabet," Sebak added cheerfully. "As far as I'm concerned, it's a marvelous gimmick. Take it and run."

When readers least expect it, I will.

But first, I'll let two of you run with it. Because two separate e-mails from two separate readers took an alphabetical approach to critiquing my series.

Judi Guizado wrote:

"I found your columns to be amazing, beatific, classy, delightful, edifying, first-rate, groovy, heartfelt, interesting, joyful, kindhearted, laudable, masterful, neat-o, orderly, praiseworthy, quirky, reminiscent, scandalous -- oops, sorry, wrong column; that one's for Pomona's self-imposed pay raise -- transcendent, unusual, valiant, well-written, Xeroxable, yatterless and zestful."

Guizado would like to thank the members of the Academy, plus Webster's Thesaurus.

And Ruth Wells chimed in with this:

"Allen's Bulletin Columns Did Effectually Furnish Great Highlights, Interesting Jewels, Knowledge Listing Many Nuances of Pomona's Quintessence -- Restaurants, Specifics of our ethnic citizens, Tableaus of Today, Unforgettable, Valued Works of the past, X-cellent Yarns, Zealously told."

I'm awe-struck, blushing, content, dumbfounded, etc.

Now let's let the alphabet rest a bit. We've given it a heckuva workout.

(David Allen writes Sunday, Wednesday and Friday, a workout for your eyes.)

[Well, here we are at the end of our little recap of my 2004-05 "Pomona A to Z" columns. I had the topic for Z picked far in advance, relishing the neatness of ending the series the way it began. People kept asking what Z would be but I think the only person I told was Mickey Gallivan, and that's only because I interviewed her for it. This column was published June 19, 2005.]

You'll really dig Pomona's letter Z

Zounds! "Pomona A to Z," which began in this space last (gulp) July 18, today finally reaches the 26th letter: Z.

Yes, it's been a zigzag path to Z, but now we're at the zenith of the "A to Z" ziggurat!

Here we can sip zinfandel, munch on zwieback and dance to zydeco music, while reminiscing about the Z Channel and musing about the zeitgeist.

But let's hold the zeal until Z is revealed.

Admittedly, my job would be a lot easier if Pomona had a zoo. But to my surprise, the city is zaftig with Z's:

* Zarzuela, or Spanish musical theater, performed annually at Ganesha Park by (whoa!) the L.A. Opera.

* Jim Zorn, a former quarterback for the Seattle Seahawks who set 10 school records in football at Cal Poly Pomona.

* Tom Zasadzinski, Cal Poly Pomona's official photographer.

* Dorothy Ziolkowski, a hard-workin' volunteer for the Friends of the Pomona Library.

* Zzooms Bail Bonds, located near the police station, the better to zoom in to get you out.

Blow me down with a zephyr!

Our Z, of course, is none of these. Admittedly obscure, this Z was there at the start of Pomona, and it's still there today.

It's zanja.

(No, not ganja, which was there at the start of Jamaica, and is still there today -- zanja.)

Pronounced "sahn-ha," this was the stone-lined ditch that carried water to Pomona's first settlements.

It was dug beginning in 1840 to bring water from San Jose Creek to the adobes for irrigation and personal use.

"It was the first water system," says Mickey Gallivan, president of the Historical Society.

Short segments still exist outside the three remaining adobes: La Casa Primera and Palomares Adobe, which are public, and Alvarado Adobe, which is privately owned.

I learned about the zanja when I visited La Casa Primera (1569 N. Park) for the letter A. Docent Luis Guerrero showed me the ditch in the back.

Going out the way "A to Z" came in, we're back to the beginnings of Pomona.

Two ranchers, Ygnacio Palomares and Ricardo Vejar, were given title to 15,000 acres of former mission land in 1837, when California was still part of Mexico.

Vejar settled in the south. Palomares took the north, building La Casa Primera, the first house in the Pomona Valley.

He soon had a neighbor. He invited his cousin, Ygnacio Alvarado, to build a house a stone's throw away.

(Archaeological note: This stone has not been found.)

Alvarado dug the zanja in 1840. It was enlarged as more settlers moved in and needed water, according to an 1888 report by the state engineer.

Palomares moved to a new, larger home in 1854, now known as Palomares Adobe (491 E. Arrow Highway), and a zanja was dug there, too.

A drought in the early 1860s killed thousands of cattle in California, making vast ranches hard to sustain. Vejar borrowed money at predatory rates and lost his holdings.

Palomares' widow sold 2,000 acres of the homestead in 1874 for $8 an acre to two investors. The sale spelled an end to the Rancho San Jose days -- but paved the way for Pomona!

Investors sold off lots for the fledgling city, which incorporated in 1888 with a population of 3,500.

Progress eventually zonked the zanjas.

"The little ditch that had brought water from San Antonio Canon across the sandy waste lands became tunnels and pipe lines and irrigating ditches ..." wrote Bess Adams Garner and Miriam Colcord Post in a Historical Society pamphlet.

In L.A., a zanja resurfaced, literally, in March 2005. The Zanja Madre ("Mother Ditch"), the city's primary water source from 1781 to 1904, was discovered by the Metropolitan Transportation Authority, which was grading land for a rail line.

The 4-foot-wide, brick-lined ditch was quickly reburied out of concern people would develop an interest in history.

In Pomona, the zanjas have been seen by generations of children on field trips to Palomares' two adobes. The adobes are open to the public from 2 to 5 p.m. each Sunday.

The longest zanja is at La Casa Primera. Two feet wide and almost two feet deep, it's lined with rock and has a bottom of dirt and pebbles (and dead leaves and weeds).

The zanja begins at the corner of Park and McKinley, then winds behind the house. It passes under a fig tree reputed to be 150 years old and disappears into the pavement at the rear of the property.

A zanja runs through it.

Hey, that could be a movie!

(David Allen writes Sunday, Wednesday and Friday, columns that should be ditched.)