Casa History Not on Menu

Casa Romantica, the historical showpiece of San Clemente, is about to go neon. And residents with a strong sense of the city’s history have an uphill fight to stop it.

The San Clemente City Council has taken steps to turn Casa Romantica, the beautiful, seaside Spanish-style home of city founder Ole Hanson, into a restaurant. Just what we need. Another restaurant.

It’s a sad but growing trend: What have we got around here that we can make a buck from? How about our heritage? I have this fear that one day the city will feel compelled to find a corporate sponsor. Then, Casa Romantica might become Casa Edison. Or McCasa McDonald.

There are two sides to this, of course, and city leaders who support the restaurant plan aren’t bad folks. They did stop a monstrous hotel project that would have swallowed up Casa Romantica a few years back. And their arguments merit attention. Their bottom line is that the old Hanson house needs to pay for itself; to them, the restaurant seems the only way to go.

The council proved its interest in preserving Casa Romantica by buying the property in 1989, saving it from possible destruction by private developers. The council majority points out that about one-quarter of the 8,000-square-foot home would be turned over to the San Clemente Historical Society. Plus, the society could use the home’s spacious center courtyard for its events.

City Councilman Steve Apodaca, someone I respect for his strong support of child-abuse causes, favors the restaurant plan. He points out that the restaurant would give the public the kind of access to the 69-year-old Casa Romantica--which overlooks the pier and beach from a nearby hillside--that it’s never had before. It’s now leased to a private vendor for weddings and receptions.

“It would be nice if we could have a historical site where people could come in and enjoy it for free,” he told me. “But we have to preserve it in a manner that is affordable.”

City Councilman Patrick M. Ahle, another pro-restaurant vote, argues that San Clemente is too strapped for cash to subsidize any plan that’s not police, fire, or safety related. I also talked to City Manager Michael W. Parness, who said that commercial use of historic sites is actually the most common practice because it’s the only economically feasible approach.

Good points, all of them. I can think of only

one compelling argument against the restaurant plan. It’s just not right.

Instead of being a proudly preserved piece of heritage, the Hanson home would become just another commercial venture. Another greedy developer will have shown that money carries more weight than history.

I like the argument by Rae La Force of the city’s Historical Society. “A restaurant is just not special enough for such a special place,” she told me. “Casa Romantica is our crown jewel. We need something more appropriate.”

In the center of Casa Romantica’s main living quarters is an atrium where Ole Hanson used to have a small frog pond. Under the restaurant plans, the atrium would become the bar. You might as well sell hot dogs from the steps of Washington’s Mount Vernon.

Plans call for tearing down some of the walls to make larger dining rooms. Ray Benedictus, president of the Cabrillo Playhouse in San Clemente--and an opponent of the restaurant--argues that too many structural changes would occur: “Once you make these changes, you can never restore the original integrity of the house.”

A huge kitchen would be built on the property. And to help pay for all this, eight time-share condominiums would be built on part of the grounds. That’s as appalling as changes to the house itself.

Apodaca, arguing for the restaurant, points out that there will be nothing to obstruct the view of Casa Romantica from the pier. The time-share plan is only “modest” development, he argues, and necessary to pay for renovations.

There is a group in town that sees it another way. It’s called Heritage of San Clemente. Its director, Wayne Eggleston, a passionate opponent of the restaurant, asked the council to take a six-month breather in its Casa Romantica plans--to give his group time to work up something else feasible.

What Eggleston wants to see there is a multicultural center where people in the community could gather for art exhibits, public recitals and special events. To keep the city from going in the red, it would also permit a wedding/receptions business to pay for upkeep.

Right now, the council vote is 3 to 2 in favor of the restaurant. But Councilman Ahle told me that nothing is a done deal, and opponents will get a chance to argue further at workshops and public hearings.

Ahle contends the city cannot afford to go the noncommercial route. I would argue that, to preserve San Clemente’s past for future generations, it can’t afford not to.

Wrap-Up: Ole Hanson was the former mayor of Seattle who fell in love with what later became San Clemente on a business trip to Mexico. He bought up lots and sold them in the 1920s with the dream of turning his newly-planned San Clemente into a Spanish village by the sea--all white stucco with red tile roofs.

His own home was built in 1928 by Carl Lindhom, who also built the Cotton family estate a few miles south that was later sold to Richard Nixon and designated as the Western White House.

Hanson was pretty much wiped out financially during the Depression, and his home went through a succession of owners. It was named Casa Romantica by its owners during World War II. Later, it became a rest home.

The other day, I got a chance to tour this wondrous old house, with its marvelous keyhole-shaped entry and grand Spanish archways. Hanson’s desk is still the centerpiece of his octagon-shaped den. The terrace offers a spectacularly scenic view of the Pier Bowl.

Frankly, it would make one heck of a great restaurant. But I could never bring myself to vote for that.

Jerry Hicks’ column appears Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Readers may reach Hicks by calling The Times Orange County Edition at (714) 966-7823, by fax at (714) 966-7711 or by e-mail at jerry.hicks@latimes.com.