Meanwhile, Blockbuster and Hollywood Video have shuttered their local outlets. Owner and buyer Guy Hanford understands why. “When you went into a Blockbuster or Hollywood to rent a film, you never engaged in personal conversation with the employees. The owners were never there. Here, there’s always an owner, and a staff with a wide-ranging knowledge of movies. We have people who come in here and share their lives with us.”
"Today I was brought into the fold on the neighborhood uprising regarding the Kensington Terrace project," stated Jim Chatfield in an October 30 e-mail to Anne Jarque, the project's manager for the City. "As a real estate developer, one would certainly surmise that I am pro-development, which is generally true. However, upon [review], I am quite surprised to find that the City and the Kensington-Talmadge Planning Committee approved this project with such little community interaction.
Eight years ago, the Adams Avenue Business Association received a $600,000 "urban forestry" grant from the State of California to mitigate the pollution that would result from Interstate 15 traffic. Kensington business property owners chose an ornamental pear tree to plant along Adams Avenue. As they grew, the pear trees developed a blight that has provoked several Kensington business owners to draw up a new community-maintenance plan.
By Joe Deegan, Dec. 1, 2005
3553 28th Street. A few, influenced by the era’s Far East fixation, have door frames that resemble Japanesetoriis (temple entrances).
How did the rustic bungalows gain such a strong foothold in San Diego? They first overtook North Park, Hillcrest, Mission Hills, Normal Heights, Kensington, and the Balboa Park environs circa 1907, when reliable aqueducts were built in the area, and the city’s trolley lines were extended.
On the sidewalks at 49th Street and Monroe Avenue stand two chalky-blue ornate gates that once marked the southern boundary of the Kensington-Talmadge district. When the gates were erected in 1927 — for a lofty cost of $1100 apiece — they greeted passing Model A’s, DeSotos, and dapper families out for midday strolls. Today, however, flanked by nondescript single-story tract homes, the stylish gates seem out of place. They stand like Pomo sentinels, welcoming passersby to a vanished world.
Joseph Franklin Rutherford, president of the Jehovah’s Witnesses from 1916 to 1940, planned to see Kensington engulfed in flames one day. If his predictions held true, he foresaw himself standing in the third-story watchtower of his 20-room home named Beth Sarin (House of the Princes) on Braeburn Road, surrounded by God’s resurrected faithful, surveying the violence and destruction of Armageddon as played out on the battlefield of Kensington.
By Abe Opincar, May 16, 1985
“It’s not that steep. Not as bad as the Texas gradient.”
Prior to the building of this pathway, there were only two efficient ways to cycle to Mission Valley from mid-city San Diego; via Fairmount Avenue and Texas Street. “… but [automobile] traffic is pretty fast there,” Barrett said, “and from Fairmount, we have to take the Aldine [Drive] curve which is narrow and we have to share the road with the big buses too.”
The entire neighborhood is one big cul-de-sac, an engineered refuge that keeps traffic at bay to the benefit of children at play. The eastern end of Adams Avenue, after it crosses I-15, runs through the town’s quaint business district, and it’s the only way in and out (if you don’t count the meandering Marlborough Drive, which eventually leads south to El Cajon Boulevard from its northern terminus on a cliff overlooking Mission Valley).
You can’t keep a good Winnie down. “Mom was bored to death,” laughs Guy Hanford, soon-to-be sole owner and operator of Kensington Video. “Retirement didn’t meet well with her.”
That’s just one of the reasons Guy has decided to reopen the family’s world-class video outlet. “I never wanted to close,” Guy continues. “Why should a successful business shut its doors?”
Meanwhile, Blockbuster and Hollywood Video have shuttered their local outlets. Owner and buyer Guy Hanford understands why. “When you went into a Blockbuster or Hollywood to rent a film, you never engaged in personal conversation with the employees. The owners were never there. Here, there’s always an owner, and a staff with a wide-ranging knowledge of movies. We have people who come in here and share their lives with us.”
"Today I was brought into the fold on the neighborhood uprising regarding the Kensington Terrace project," stated Jim Chatfield in an October 30 e-mail to Anne Jarque, the project's manager for the City. "As a real estate developer, one would certainly surmise that I am pro-development, which is generally true. However, upon [review], I am quite surprised to find that the City and the Kensington-Talmadge Planning Committee approved this project with such little community interaction.
Eight years ago, the Adams Avenue Business Association received a $600,000 "urban forestry" grant from the State of California to mitigate the pollution that would result from Interstate 15 traffic. Kensington business property owners chose an ornamental pear tree to plant along Adams Avenue. As they grew, the pear trees developed a blight that has provoked several Kensington business owners to draw up a new community-maintenance plan.
By Joe Deegan, Dec. 1, 2005
3553 28th Street. A few, influenced by the era’s Far East fixation, have door frames that resemble Japanesetoriis (temple entrances).
How did the rustic bungalows gain such a strong foothold in San Diego? They first overtook North Park, Hillcrest, Mission Hills, Normal Heights, Kensington, and the Balboa Park environs circa 1907, when reliable aqueducts were built in the area, and the city’s trolley lines were extended.
On the sidewalks at 49th Street and Monroe Avenue stand two chalky-blue ornate gates that once marked the southern boundary of the Kensington-Talmadge district. When the gates were erected in 1927 — for a lofty cost of $1100 apiece — they greeted passing Model A’s, DeSotos, and dapper families out for midday strolls. Today, however, flanked by nondescript single-story tract homes, the stylish gates seem out of place. They stand like Pomo sentinels, welcoming passersby to a vanished world.
Joseph Franklin Rutherford, president of the Jehovah’s Witnesses from 1916 to 1940, planned to see Kensington engulfed in flames one day. If his predictions held true, he foresaw himself standing in the third-story watchtower of his 20-room home named Beth Sarin (House of the Princes) on Braeburn Road, surrounded by God’s resurrected faithful, surveying the violence and destruction of Armageddon as played out on the battlefield of Kensington.
By Abe Opincar, May 16, 1985
“It’s not that steep. Not as bad as the Texas gradient.”
Prior to the building of this pathway, there were only two efficient ways to cycle to Mission Valley from mid-city San Diego; via Fairmount Avenue and Texas Street. “… but [automobile] traffic is pretty fast there,” Barrett said, “and from Fairmount, we have to take the Aldine [Drive] curve which is narrow and we have to share the road with the big buses too.”
The entire neighborhood is one big cul-de-sac, an engineered refuge that keeps traffic at bay to the benefit of children at play. The eastern end of Adams Avenue, after it crosses I-15, runs through the town’s quaint business district, and it’s the only way in and out (if you don’t count the meandering Marlborough Drive, which eventually leads south to El Cajon Boulevard from its northern terminus on a cliff overlooking Mission Valley).
You can’t keep a good Winnie down. “Mom was bored to death,” laughs Guy Hanford, soon-to-be sole owner and operator of Kensington Video. “Retirement didn’t meet well with her.”
That’s just one of the reasons Guy has decided to reopen the family’s world-class video outlet. “I never wanted to close,” Guy continues. “Why should a successful business shut its doors?”