 Romance of the Ranchoes. They should win a prize. There's a fine hog, but it ain't as good as the ones I got back on the farm. Don't you just love county fairs? I do. I just love county fairs. There sure is a lot to see. There's like a three-ring service. I just love the ferris wheel. One night I got stuck up at the top and it was wonderful. Hey, just watch this sugar. I'll get you one of them Cupid Dolls to take home. Stand aside, folks. For 14 days each year, thousands of Southern Californians find entertainment and education visiting the great Los Angeles county fair now in progress. Host to this great event is Pomona, a great city in a heart of a vast farming and fruit-growing area. Yet, only a few decades ago, this fertile valley where Pomona, Claremont, Spadra, San Dimas, Cucamonga now stand was peopled only by migratory Indians and a handful of hearty settlers. It was the Rancho San Jose, one of the early Mexican grants, the history of which is rich in the romance of the Ranchos. The title insurance and trust company of Los Angeles presents the romance of the Ranchos, a half-hour dramatization recreating the glamorous atmosphere of the adventurous early days of Southern California. And here is our wandering vaquero, Frank Graham. Buenos noches, señoras y señoras. Before we get into our story for tonight, I'd like to call your attention to a change in time. Starting next week, the romance of the Ranchos will be heard at a new time, Wednesday evening at 7.30. That's next week. We'll be with you Wednesday instead of Sunday. So be sure to listen a week from Wednesday, October 1st, for the next chapter in our history of the Southland. Tonight, our story is full of drama and adventure, uncovered in the files of the title insurance and trust company of Los Angeles, which are full of interesting facts and fascinating tales. Yes, there is not one square foot of land in Los Angeles County on which the title insurance and trust company does not have records of every change of ownership, every mortgage, lien, trust deed, every transfer by inheritance, sale, trade, foreclosure, or conveyance of any kind. When you realize that the few vast Ranchos of a century and a half ago have been divided into more than a million and a half separate parcels of real estate listed in today's county tax rolls, you realize the magnitude of the title insurance company's work. We must go back to the year 1837 for the beginning of our story of Ranchos San Jose. The petition for this land by Nassio Palomaris and Ricardo Vejar, outstanding citizens of Los Angeles, had been favorably received by Governor Alvarado. And so, one day in August, the two friends with Jose Sepulveda, Alcalde of Los Angeles, rode out to take formal possession of their greatest estate. Don Jose, look across that vista, the beautiful green valley stretching from those hills we are riding across, clear to the mountains of the north. See, can you think of a finer place to live, Don Jose? Hmm, see, the Pueblo de Los Angeles. Ah, the Pueblo. Who will want to stay cooped up in the Pueblo? Only could have land like this for his home. I would. You do not think it is good land? Good land, see. You can raise many head of cattle here. You may get rich, then again you may not. I would rather not take the chance. But what in the name of saints is wrong with San Jose? There is no finer answer nor alter california. That may be, Seniors, but I should not like it. Well, Senor, we like it, and we shall be most happy here. Perhaps. I do not like the way he say perhaps, Don Nassio. What is he talking about? See, what are you talking about, Don Jose? Nothing. Except that perhaps I value my safety more than you, Seniors. Safety? Yes, safety. Don Nassio, what does he mean by that? He means perhaps the Indians. That is right. Have you thought about the Indians, Seniors? Have we thought about them, Don Nassio? We are not afraid of the Indians. Well, that is... Remember, Seniors, you are six leads from the mission and more than that from the Pueblo. You are out here all by yourselves with no protection. Not even any other rancheros close by. No. I would not like it. But the Indians are... they are friendly, yes? They are friendly, no. Oh, these wandering bands you see camping along the streams. They are harmless. But those mountains across there, they are full of Mojave Indians. They delight in raiding the outlying ranchos. They rob and steal and burn and kill. Oh, Lord Ricardo, there is no need to be frightened. No, but... Don Jose must have his little joke. He is exaggerating. You will be in no danger. Perhaps yes. And perhaps no. At any rate, we are not frightened, are we? No. We shall move in as soon as possible. But perhaps we should... That is our wives and our family. Of course, they shall come too, am I right? Yes, of course. I suppose. You are brave men, Seniors. I shall think of you often and hope that you are safe. And now I think somewhere here in these hills of Santana we should start. In fact, I should say that that hill should about mark the corner of your ranch. See, according to our map, that is right. And we shall dismount and make ready the cord. See, perhaps that black widow tree right over there might furnish us a landmark for the start. A good suggestion, Don Inacio. We shall mark. I see. That would be easy to find. Have you any special mark you wish to put on it, Don Inacio? See, I have brought one especially for that purpose. Here it is. A wooden cross. We shall place it in the live of the tree. So, the cross has been blessed, Seniors. And may it stand forever as a symbol of our faith. God in His mercy has given us His bountiful gift. May His protecting hand be over us and this land as long as we may live. Amen. And may He keep you and yours from any harm here so far from civilization. Amen. Very well, Don Inacio. We are ready. What do we do now? He's major of the rancho before I can give you for a possession. I have a carousel. Come! Hey! Hey! Easy call. Ready? Yes, Don Inacio. Very well. You know what to do. Let us start. But what do they do? They have a cord. 100 varus long with a stake at each end. One drives his stake in at the starting place. The other gallops down the rancho line until the cord is stretched tight and then he pounds in his stake. And the other one gallops on her head until the cord is stretched tight again. And so on. And they keep that up all the way around the rancho. See? Until they have measured it all. But that will take all day. More than that, perhaps. Never mind. I have some food and we can sleep in our blankets. But what about the Indians? You may as well get used to them now, Don Ricardo. See? If they're going to kill you, my amigo, it may as well be now and have it over. Oh, senor! Don Jose had his little joke. But he might have been less caustic had he realized the very real danger of which he spoke. For the neuron-sharrows had hardly moved in with their families and cattle when early one morning at dawn, Don Inacio was awakened. Inacio. Inacio, wake up. What is it? What's the matter? Did I hurt something? Hurt something? What? There it is. That's strange. The horses sound frightened. Is there something wrong? I don't know. I go see. Inacio, come back. Don't leave me! Don Inacio! Don Inacio! It's Juan, one of my wet carers. Don Inacio! See? I'm coming. Don Inacio. Don Inacio. The cattle are restless. Something is wrong. Does this sense something is going to happen? See? But what? What is wrong? I don't know. I don't know, but I think it's Juan. Idiot! Idiot! Juan! The wet carers are after them! Stop them! They're trying to steal the horses! Stop them! Don Inacio, my husband. Wait. Be careful. Get back in the house, Maria. It's eating us. You may be hurt. Don Inacio, look. The green field. It's on fire. It's burning. Stop them! Amid smoldering ruins, the early rancheros countered their losses to the Indians. Horses stolen. Buildings destroyed. But carers killed. But Don Inacio Palomaris and Don Ricardo Vejar withstood all pleas to abandon their holdings. They stuck through all hardships. And in 1837, they were joined by another, Luis Arenas, former Alcalde of Los Angeles, and brother-in-law of Don Inacio. But no sooner had they successfully petitioned Governor Alvarado for more land to accommodate the new partner, then Don Luis placed himself in a peculiar position by taking sides against the governor who had granted his land and becoming one of the leaders of a serious agitation among the rancheros and townspeople of Southern California. Senators! Senators! Alvarado has defied us. Is this not supposed to be a republic? And are we not supposed to have some voice in the government? Senators! Then I say this time to act. If Governor Alvarado will map out the capital to Los Angeles, then we shall move it for him. Senators! Are you with me? Will you take up arms to enforce the will of the people? Senators! And then we march today. Senators! The revolution was quashed before it had much of a chance. And before long, Luis Arenas was back in the good graces of the government of the time. Soon after, the fiery Don Luis sold his interest in San Jose to Senor Henry Dalton who was to become one of the early Southland's biggest landowners. Under the new arrangement, the three partners partitioned their ranch of San Jose into three sections. It was a great cattle empire. When they butchered, 200 heads at a time were slaughtered. Pounds of tallow were melted into bags of skin. Huge strips of beef were hung up to dry and made from the milk of 40 cows. Food for the hundreds of persons connected with the vast rancho San Jose. Fiestas brought out hundreds of guests from the entire valley and gay Latin music echoed over the rancho. Guests from the growing Pueblo found lavish welcome awaiting them on this rich domain of San Jose. But disaster was to strike quickly at least for one partner in the rancho. Once the land had been partitioned and now that each man knew what was his, Ricardo Vejar had been able to mortgage his share for needed cash. His son Chico had been robbed of some money and drought had furthered Don Ricardo's fortune. And so it was that one day Don Ricardo went. This is Mr. Tischler. How do you do, Senor Vejar? Buenos dias. Senor Schlesinger? Senor Tischler, you know what I come for? Oh, yes, of course. The money is already and here are the papers for you to sign. These drought years have been pretty hard on you ranchers, haven't they, Vejar? Senor, otherwise I should not be forced to do this. Come gentlemen, let's not have any hard feelings. This is just a friendly little business arrangement. I'm sure Don Ricardo will be able to repay us with interest very soon. But Don Ricardo could not pay. The interest rate, though legal and costimary then, sent the debt soaring and one day the news swept through the valley. Don Ignacio! Don Ignacio! What is it? I've just heard the news. Don Ricardo he has sold his rancho. He had needed the land over to those Americanos. Senor Schlesinger and Tischler? Yes, for $28,000. He didn't sell the land, Ramon. He gave it to them to satisfy the debt he owes them. No matter, he was wrong. No, no, it was a perfectly legal business transaction. Don Ricardo was just foolish to borrow so much money. You're not angry with them? Why should I be? You will have them as neighbors. Don Ricardo will have to move out. I suppose somebody cannot be held. I'm not sure, Don Ignacio. The people of San Jose Valley will not be so understanding as you. Perhaps they will feel quite different about these Americanos. Quite different. Schlesinger and Tischler would destined never to be able to take possession of their rancho. That family was to be dispossessed of the land that had been their support, spread like wildfire through the ranchos, and faster still spread the flame of resentment against the Americans who were thought to have swindled Don Ricardo. Nothing could be done to save the land, but something could be done about the Americanos. Are you sure that Senor Tischler will ride his way? Positive. I overhear him talking. This must be him riding off the trail now. Look. All right, man. Take him. Wait a minute until he gets up opposite the widow tree. He's almost in range. And when I give the signal, shoot. To kill. All right. Fire. Got him. He's down. Come on. Let's go. Here he is. Wait a minute. That is not Tischler. We shoot the wrong man. We make a mistake. No matter. Let this serve as a warning. It was not until 1868 that the United States Land Commissioner's office finally issued a patent on Rancho San Jose to Henry Dalton, Y. Polo Morris, and R. F. A. Hart. The patent was accompanied by a hand-drawn map, an accurate copy of which is today in the files of the title insurance and trust company. The map shows that Rancho San Jose was an irregular shaped property with no less than 10 different corners marked by landmarks of various kinds. One of these corners of the Rancho is described on the map as gray granite rock in the Arroyo San Antonio at a .9700 virus in a direct line from the place designated as a large rock in the center of the water pool agreed upon as the place where the black willow once existed. Other corners were identified as springs of water, elder post and mound, sycamore tree, redwood post and stake placed where the black walnut once stood. Such landmarks as these were typical in the descriptions of the early Ranchos. With a passage of time, many of these old monuments disappeared. Some had actually disappeared by the time the patent maps were submitted for confirmation. And one of the chief difficulties of the title insurance and trust company has been to locate definitely the boundaries of the Ranchos in order to ensure your ownership in any land you may buy. Music The Americanos had made their first invasion into the patriarchal lands of Rancho San Jose. And soon the rich acreage was to start the inevitable disintegration which came to every great Rancho. Ignacio Palomaris was destined to live only a little while longer. But in the meantime he continued his quietly prosperous ways. His cattle had grown to number thousands, his family and relatives hundreds. And he made a practice of giving away a great deal of his land. In one case when he attempted to give away a tract to a friend. You say Don Ignacio this land is 1800 about a square. See? You know it. You have seen it many times. I want you to have it. See? Perhaps it is good land, no? See? Of course it is good land. Why should they give it to you if it was not? That is what I want to know. Why should you give it to me if it is good land? I do not understand that. I give it to you as a friend as a gift because I like you, you stupid ox. I'd like to have you come and live near me. Your friendship I appreciate. But tell me, why should I give my comfortable home in Pueblo and come out here to nothing? Nothing but empty land. How would I live? How would my family live? You could get some cattle and... because money. I have no money for that. Well, but... You see, it would not be profitable. I'll give you some cattle. How many? 500 head of large cattle. There is not much. It would be hard. Very well then. You shall have all the small cattle you may find on the premises, too. Good. In that case perhaps I can make a profitable chain. And so, we may as well settle it, in the name of the saints. Do you mean settle it? It's settled. I said take it. How do I know the land belongs to you? How can I give up what I already have until I can be sure that I will receive the true title to the drag? You do not know it is my land? Oh, see. But you must go to the judge in the Pueblo and swear that you have not already sold or given away, that you will really grant the land legally, that you will stand good for any legal quarrels which may arise over it, and that you will not take back this gift. You really mean it is necessary for me, an old man to journey to the Pueblo to see a judge to swear all these things before you can accept my gift? Oh, see. We must be business-like. We must do everything legally, you know. But I have lived too long in this I cannot understand. I will do it, but again, I am content to lie down and die. Old Ignacio Palomaris had lived long enough, and one day in November 1866 he quietly passed on. With him passed much that had survived of those colorful early days on the Rancho San Jose. Now a new element was coming in, a progressive, hard-hitting fast-moving element that characterized the American spirit. Its first representative was a young man of German ancestry, Louis Phillips, who was to play a big part in the growth of the valley. One day in Los Angeles he turned up for an appointment with Mr. Titler. Well, Mr. Phillips, I am glad you have come. Are you interested in my proposition? Yeah, yeah, maybe. You want me to run your Rancho San Jose, is that right? That's right. I will pay you $100 a month and half the increase in cattle, sheep and coals. You think I can run it right? Well, I trust you to run it right. Why don't you run it yourself? Well you see, it isn't very healthy country for me. You understand my health. Yeah, yeah, I see I think. I'm sure you like it. I'm sure of it. And so we might as well get everything settled up. That is, if you will go. Will I go? Yeah, I think maybe I will. So Louis Phillips took over the ticklish job running the lower third of Rancho San Jose for the unpopular new owners. At first he encountered nothing but suspicious resentment. Gradually, his attempts to cultivate the goodwill of his neighbors bore fruit. That is, they seemed to stop being suspicious and came merely to ignore him. Then one day, he rode up to Uncle Billy Rubatom's Tavern near his house. Good morning, Seniors. A lovely morning, don't you think? Ah, here, Rubatom. Good morning. Good morning, Mr. Phillips. Welcome to Rubatom's Tavern. Come in. Where can he get you? And I just stopped by to say hello. Sure, you're welcome anytime. These birds are still not speaking to you, huh? None, but I think they will. Well, I don't know. They don't forget things very easy. They'll probably hold it again until they die. Maybe, but let's try it out anyway. Try what out? You will see. Oh, by the way, hey, Rubatom, I'm giving a barbecue at my ranch with the night. Everybody around is invited. It's a big celebration. Yeah? Celebrating what? Didn't you know? Today, I get paid to the rancher. I just bought it. Well, what do you think of that? Well, now, Mr. Phillips, I'm right glad to hear that. Did I hear you say you bought the rancher you are living on? Yes, Senor. That is right. I own it now. Those moneylenders do not have anything to do with it anymore? Not a thing. And you have nothing to do with them anymore? I probably never see them again, nor will any of you. Senor, this is wonderful. I am so happy for you. Senor Phillips, we like you. You are a nice fellow, but those others are no good. And now that you have nothing more to do with them, we apologize for not being friends before. Yes, you should. I'm happy to have you all as friends. We forget the past and get the long time to give up. As you all come to the barbecue tonight, yeah? Louis Phillips overcame the distrust of the rancheros and began to lead the march of progress which followed. In 1873, Louis Phillips gave the Southern Pacific Railroad a right of way through his land, and a year later the first train ran to Spadra Station from Los Angeles. With a railroad in sight, the whole San Jose valley began to think in terms of a town and soon an association was formed to lay out the site on Louis Phillips' rancho. The project aroused great enthusiasm, especially when, hey, have you heard? They're having a contest to pick the name of the new town. A free lot for the name they pick as the winner. Am I going to get in on that? Can you think of a good one? How about Palomar? I like Phillips. San Jose? They are. Well, I don't know. I sort of like Pomona. You know, she was a goddess of fruit. Pomona? Pomona. Sure, let's make it Pomona. Pomona, goddess of fruit, an appropriate name for the center of a great fruit-growing area. The name won a free city lot for Solomon Gates, a nurseryman, and the new city to be became Pomona. Plans were rushed. Great campaigns of advertising swept over the Southland, promoting the new town. The trains ran excursions. The whole country turned out to see the opening auction on Washington's birthday, 1876. The occasion was a brilliant success. Lots were sold. It looked like the town of Pomona was to be definitely on the map. Then, one night, several months after the sale. Even hobby, ain't you up pretty late? Can't sleep, Elmer. Don't know what's the matter. I've got kind of a funny feeling like something's going to happen. Oh, you know, better than that, ain't nothing ever happens here, except at all. And more people coming to live. Well, darn if I know what it is, but I got a feeling. Trouble with you, it's just warm tonight in spite of the breeze. That's why you can't sleep. It is mighty warm, but say, do you smell smoke? Seems slightly, I do. Probably imagination, though. And listen, don't you hear nothing? Sort of the crackling make? Say, I believe you're right. I wonder what, Harvey. Look here, the hotel, she's a fire. Holy macro, she's burning like a bonfire. She'll go up in no time. And with that, we'll take the whole town. We've got to do something quick. Oh, Pomona, the wife out. Bye. A disastrous fire, combined with drought and lack of money, almost ruined the whole town before it got a start. But a few people stuck, and in 1887, when Pomona was incorporated, 3,500 people called at their home. There were schools, banks, churches, newspapers, factories, and hotels. Then came the great boom which raged through California, and the land which had once sheltered the herds of Don Inacio Palomaris and Don Ricardo Vejar, now took its place in the great modern world of achievement. Today, many thousands of people live within the Rancho San Jose, the people of Pomona, Clermont, San Bemis, Spadra, Cucamonga. They have built beautiful cities of streets and homes, founded colleges of distinction, raised crops and stock of superior quality. And each year at this time, they've held a great modern fiesta, the county fair, devoted to Southern California's wealth of agriculture, livestock, the arts and crafts, and dedicated in the spirit of Pomona, goddess of fruit. Such is the romance of the Ranchos. Frank Graham will be back in just a moment. But first, I want to say that it's the hope of the title insurance and trust company that hearing tonight the colorful story of Rancho San Jose will make your trip to the fair at Pomona through the beautiful valley so loved in Rancho days by the characters and tonight's drama, even more interesting and significant than it would otherwise be. And the contrast presented between that day in this and peoples and population in sports and customs and means of travel and communication will sharpen your picture of the Southland's growth. The information from which was taken the historical framework of tonight's drama is the same information by means of which the title insurance and trust company is able to trace from the beginning the title to any land you buy to verify the title of every previous owner and to ensure the validity of your ownership. It is wise to insist upon this protection whenever you invest in real estate. What's the story for next week, Frank? Next week we have a story about the section of Southern California where now are located the cities of Englewood, Redondo, Hermosa, Manhattan and El Segundo. But which was once part of two romantic ranchos. A Juaje de la Centenela and Sao Sao Redondo. But remember next week romance of the ranchos will come to you at a new time Wednesday at 7.30 p.m. Be sure to listen won't you? Until a week from Wednesday then you're wondering Vaquero, Frank Graham, saying Hasta la vista, señoras y señores. The romance of the ranchos, a presentation of the title insurance and trust company of Los Angeles, featuring Frank Graham as the wandering Vaquero, returns at a new time Wednesday at 7.30 p.m. Listen again a week from Wednesday October 1st for another thrilling dramatization of the romance of the ranchos. Bob Lamont speaking, this is the Columbia Broadcasting System.