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Rolando Knolls Drive is “like a pillow for your head at night”
Anyone who has lived on this street is forever called a neighbor.
Why yes, it is a peaceful place — why do you ask?
Rolando Knolls Drive, west of 70th and north of University, is a secret pocket of contentment. The street is shaped like a candy cane and holds about 55 homes. Anyone who has lived on this street is forever called a neighbor. We are the country cousins of Rolando Village, sans sidewalks.
When we gathered on New Year’s Eve, the Reader’s neighborhood writing contest came up. Over champagne and giggles, we agreed to write an essay. At least sixteen households, more than twenty-five people, contributed ideas for this piece.
Construction dates from the late ’40s and forward. Some homes are inhabited by third-generation families. A 1950s playground rocket salvaged from the General Dynamics’ Missile Park still graces one backyard; it was salvaged by the husband of the street’s 97-year-old matriarch, who used to welcome newcomers to the neighborhood in her younger years. Today, her neighbors reciprocate the care and support she showed when they arrived by delivering meals and giving help when she needs it.
Another neighbor arrived in the early ‘70s as an unhappy 13-year-old. He was the only minority kid on the block. But he joined the Rolando Little League, made friends, and won the League’s 1977 All-Star Player award. He grew to love the neighborhood and eventually bought his parents’ home. He and his wife now raise their son here. Some refer to him as the Mayor of the Knolls.
Palms and pines, living in harmony on our own candy cane lane.
People around here take care of each other — always have. Residents who arrived in 1977 recall a neighbor watering their home’s fruit trees to keep them healthy in between owners. When those same residents found they had a leaky roof they could not afford to replace, their neighbors came together, stripped it, cut new plywood, and helped lay a new one. It was like a little barn raising in the city. We also provide dinners or soup when folks get sick or experience difficulties. One senior resident says it is comforting to know she can call anyone for help.
People around here celebrate together — and mourn together. There was a traveling blue suit that got passed around for little boys to wear at First Communions and weddings. A little over twelve years ago, a young family moved in and started an annual tradition of 4th of July bike parades and watching fireworks from the backyards after an evening potluck. Other neighbors host “just because” potlucks. Our Miss Emily used to host a Christmas party featuring her delicious cookies. In recent years we have taken to hiring an ice cream truck for birthdays and other occasions. One neighbor recalls that when her Dad passed away unexpectedly, she received the usual expressions of condolence, but beyond that, someone painted a lovely sign saying “Ed - you will be missed” and mounted it where passersby would be sure to see it.
We support each other’s children by encouraging their projects. One brave soul said a child could dump her numerous little frogs, raised from egg sacks, into her lily pond. The croaking was louder and lasted longer than the neighbor ever expected. But her gift soothed a child’s heart. Other projects are more monumental. The daughter of a family who moved here in 2022 lost an aunt to leukemia and held a lemonade stand to raise money for the Leukemia Society. Her grandfather baked dozens of cookies. The event raised several hundred dollars. The next year, the little girl wanted to do it again. Her parents told her it probably would not be as successful, because time had passed. They were wrong; it was even more successful, and was followed by a small neighborhood potluck. Every year the parents thought it would be the last — for 10 years. This event grew to the point where they had to get permits to block off the street. Grandpa baked hundreds of dozens of cookies. The girl squeezed and froze lemon juice months in advance. Local restaurants donated food. The La Mesa Fire Department stopped by! What started as a little lemonade and cookie stand became an annual event that raised over $80,000. New arrivals to the neighborhood eagerly embraced the tradition, even when it meant giving up their driveways to host the bounce house and band.
One neighbor recalls a time when her family thought of moving to a bigger home, one with more property. But as they toured the city, they quickly realized that people in other neighborhoods didn’t know their neighbors the way we all knew each other. They abandoned their plan to move, and years later, all hands were on deck to help with a Celebration of Life for her husband.
Our last story started during the Covid pandemic. A two-year old neighbor girl became accustomed to afternoon strolls in the neighborhood. One of the most exciting stops on this daily walk was before the turtle statues in our neighbor’s front yard. She loved to toddle up and visit them. She would count, name, pet, and feed them each and every day. Then, when she visited at Christmastime, there was a gift at the turtle spot with her name on it. The note on the gift told her to read the accompanying book, which told of a turtle named Tommy who lived in that very yard had been feeling lonely. But then a little girl started visiting. He felt rejuvenated. So, as a token of his appreciation,Tommy had decided to give the girl a turtle of her own: a stuffed animal she could take with her to bed at night. Later, when the girl was asked about living on our street, she described it as “like a pillow for your head at night” — safe and comfortable.
It’s easy to live in a neighborhood like this. Go outside. Take time to meet your neighbors. Sit out on your porch and wave and say hello when they pass by. Invite them to stop and chat. There is no need to clean house or keep extra food on hand. We bring our own chairs, wine, and snacks to these driveway soirees. It just takes smiles and a willingness to meet new people.
Here's something you might be interested in.
Rolando Knolls Drive is “like a pillow for your head at night”
Anyone who has lived on this street is forever called a neighbor.
Rolando Knolls Drive is “like a pillow for your head at night”
Anyone who has lived on this street is forever called a neighbor.
Why yes, it is a peaceful place — why do you ask?
Rolando Knolls Drive, west of 70th and north of University, is a secret pocket of contentment. The street is shaped like a candy cane and holds about 55 homes. Anyone who has lived on this street is forever called a neighbor. We are the country cousins of Rolando Village, sans sidewalks.
When we gathered on New Year’s Eve, the Reader’s neighborhood writing contest came up. Over champagne and giggles, we agreed to write an essay. At least sixteen households, more than twenty-five people, contributed ideas for this piece.
Construction dates from the late ’40s and forward. Some homes are inhabited by third-generation families. A 1950s playground rocket salvaged from the General Dynamics’ Missile Park still graces one backyard; it was salvaged by the husband of the street’s 97-year-old matriarch, who used to welcome newcomers to the neighborhood in her younger years. Today, her neighbors reciprocate the care and support she showed when they arrived by delivering meals and giving help when she needs it.
Another neighbor arrived in the early ‘70s as an unhappy 13-year-old. He was the only minority kid on the block. But he joined the Rolando Little League, made friends, and won the League’s 1977 All-Star Player award. He grew to love the neighborhood and eventually bought his parents’ home. He and his wife now raise their son here. Some refer to him as the Mayor of the Knolls.
Palms and pines, living in harmony on our own candy cane lane.
People around here take care of each other — always have. Residents who arrived in 1977 recall a neighbor watering their home’s fruit trees to keep them healthy in between owners. When those same residents found they had a leaky roof they could not afford to replace, their neighbors came together, stripped it, cut new plywood, and helped lay a new one. It was like a little barn raising in the city. We also provide dinners or soup when folks get sick or experience difficulties. One senior resident says it is comforting to know she can call anyone for help.
People around here celebrate together — and mourn together. There was a traveling blue suit that got passed around for little boys to wear at First Communions and weddings. A little over twelve years ago, a young family moved in and started an annual tradition of 4th of July bike parades and watching fireworks from the backyards after an evening potluck. Other neighbors host “just because” potlucks. Our Miss Emily used to host a Christmas party featuring her delicious cookies. In recent years we have taken to hiring an ice cream truck for birthdays and other occasions. One neighbor recalls that when her Dad passed away unexpectedly, she received the usual expressions of condolence, but beyond that, someone painted a lovely sign saying “Ed - you will be missed” and mounted it where passersby would be sure to see it.
We support each other’s children by encouraging their projects. One brave soul said a child could dump her numerous little frogs, raised from egg sacks, into her lily pond. The croaking was louder and lasted longer than the neighbor ever expected. But her gift soothed a child’s heart. Other projects are more monumental. The daughter of a family who moved here in 2022 lost an aunt to leukemia and held a lemonade stand to raise money for the Leukemia Society. Her grandfather baked dozens of cookies. The event raised several hundred dollars. The next year, the little girl wanted to do it again. Her parents told her it probably would not be as successful, because time had passed. They were wrong; it was even more successful, and was followed by a small neighborhood potluck. Every year the parents thought it would be the last — for 10 years. This event grew to the point where they had to get permits to block off the street. Grandpa baked hundreds of dozens of cookies. The girl squeezed and froze lemon juice months in advance. Local restaurants donated food. The La Mesa Fire Department stopped by! What started as a little lemonade and cookie stand became an annual event that raised over $80,000. New arrivals to the neighborhood eagerly embraced the tradition, even when it meant giving up their driveways to host the bounce house and band.
One neighbor recalls a time when her family thought of moving to a bigger home, one with more property. But as they toured the city, they quickly realized that people in other neighborhoods didn’t know their neighbors the way we all knew each other. They abandoned their plan to move, and years later, all hands were on deck to help with a Celebration of Life for her husband.
Our last story started during the Covid pandemic. A two-year old neighbor girl became accustomed to afternoon strolls in the neighborhood. One of the most exciting stops on this daily walk was before the turtle statues in our neighbor’s front yard. She loved to toddle up and visit them. She would count, name, pet, and feed them each and every day. Then, when she visited at Christmastime, there was a gift at the turtle spot with her name on it. The note on the gift told her to read the accompanying book, which told of a turtle named Tommy who lived in that very yard had been feeling lonely. But then a little girl started visiting. He felt rejuvenated. So, as a token of his appreciation,Tommy had decided to give the girl a turtle of her own: a stuffed animal she could take with her to bed at night. Later, when the girl was asked about living on our street, she described it as “like a pillow for your head at night” — safe and comfortable.
It’s easy to live in a neighborhood like this. Go outside. Take time to meet your neighbors. Sit out on your porch and wave and say hello when they pass by. Invite them to stop and chat. There is no need to clean house or keep extra food on hand. We bring our own chairs, wine, and snacks to these driveway soirees. It just takes smiles and a willingness to meet new people.
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