Here are a couple of trees.

Two trees and one.

Really.

Very nice.

But what if I were to tell you these trees are famous?

That you know them, that you've heard of them, but maybe never really knew that they existed.

And that there used to be a boys camp here, and the boys lived in tents.

Now, if you can picture this giant, massive tree with this canopy of branches and all these boys living in tents that had come from Michigan or different parts of the country, you know, when you here you'll say, aha, well, I really have heard of those trees.

Chula Vista used to be a place of farms where the land was used for growing things.

And do you know, there is still one little plot of farmland, just one close into town.

This remains as a hobby and a tradition in our family.

And we have four locations like this up and down from here, all the way up to Oceanside.

Why it hangs on and why this man on the left here, whose farming family goes back generations in Chula Vista, is so important to the story.

Can you guess the year when baseball came back to San Diego?

And remember when J.J., the gray whale that was so sick and cared for at SeaWorld, was let go back into the ocean and the world was watching Do you know when it's low tide at Coronado?

What are those bumps that appear in the sand?

The answer might surprise you.

It's coming right up.

And more stories too, all of them True about San Diego, Ken Kramers about San Diego, the history and people of the area we call home.

Here's Ken Kramer.

From Oceanside to San Ysidro and Pacific Beach to Campo and all the points in between.

If you are curious about San Diego, this is the show for you and welcome to it.

What we do is discover little stories about this county where we live.

Curiosities like the one we're going to start with right now, just made a mention of it a moment ago.

Something strange in the sand.

Let's take a look.

This is the beach at Coronado.

And it isn't just any day at the beach.

It's low tide, and at low tide you can see something out there on the sand.

Looks like little bumps.

Rocks.

See?

And if you notice.

And a lot of people don't notice.

But if you do, you see there's a straight shape to them.

And some corners.

Turns out, no, they're not rocks at all.

This is all that's left of something that washed up here a long time ago.

Something big.

That something was the Monte Carlo, a gambling ship that had been anchored out at sea but broke loose in a storm on New Year's Eve in 1936.

The following day, it crashed ashore on South Coronado Beach.

Richard Kenney, United States Air Force Colonel Richard Kenny, remembers he was just a kid back then, working as a lifeguard at the Hotel Del.

Yeah, which meant I was picking up cigarette butts out of the pool.

Well, he went down to take a look.

Of course.

Who wouldn't?

The owners had abandoned it, and townspeople were grabbing everything from roulette wheels to the Douglas fir dance floor and liquor.

Most people I saw were scavenging bottles that were still booze.

That's why it was up outside the three mile limit.

Here's a chair that somebody picked up that eventually made its way over to the Coronado History Museum, along with a menu from the Monte Carlo.

They called it a ship, but really, it was just anchored out there.

It had no power of its own.

When it broke loose in the storm, there was no controlling it.

It was a barge with no motor concrete barge.

But in its heyday, ads in the paper made it seem so elegant aboard water taxis skidding over the waves, going back and forth to the Monte Carlo, to and from the pleasure ship.

When it broke loose.

There were no passengers aboard, just two caretakers who got off safely.

And now here it was beached and picked over.

About two days later it was all gone.

In other words, people pretty well stranded in the.

And finally the officials got here and got it under control.

Colonel Kenny, a 16 year old kid back then, didn't walk away empty handed, though all these years later, he still got a couple of souvenirs.

I got these out of a table top, like a roulette wheel had a drawer and a few silver dollar coins.

So what can be seen today?

It kind of depends on the water level.

Almost all the Monte Carlo has been hauled or washed away in three quarters of a century.

But on some days, when the tide and the sand is particularly low, more of it shows up.

I've walked around it and once in a while when it sticks up, they come and get some more rebar or something.

It did pose more of a danger in past years, when more parts of it would end up being exposed.

As to Colonel Kenny, aged 92, when he talked with us much decorated World War II two pilot POW, he never imagined he'd still have those silver dollars from New Year's Day 1937, or that anybody would ask him about the Monte Carlo all these years later.

I never suspected as being a fighter, but I'd be around at 92 either.

I thought I'd be a hole in the ground.

Probably or something.

He says, oh, he doesn't recall much, but he is one who does.

Remember that gambling ship.

What happened to it.

And what these things in the Coronado sand really are?

Traces of the Monte Carlo and a little bit of history about San Diego.

Did you know that?

the Monte Carlo was one of several gambling ships in the 1930s, anchored off the Southern California coast, but safely out there, beyond the three mile limit?

Once the ship drifted within three miles, it became illegal, and the owners wanted nothing more to do with it.

All right.

How's your memory for events and dates?

Going to show you some video here from things that happened in one particular year.

And all you have to do is watch and guess the year.

Here we go.

Opening day at the stadium was late.

The whole season, all across the country was postponed one week because of a baseball labor dispute.

A group of fans organized a protest.

After the first pitch, they got up and walked out.

It's time to play baseball the way it used to be played, and not to play it for greed.

It was 20 years since Chicano Park had been created under the bridge.

What was once just dirt had become a center of community solidarity.

20 years since it all started.

Have you figured out the year yet?

I'm Chet Huntley NBC news.

Millions of Americans observed Earth Day today, a crusade against pollution with which everybody agreed.

It was also 20 years since the first Earth Day.

Two decades since the nation had gotten together, old and young, to commit to environmental preservation.

Critics said not enough progress was being made.

Not nearly enough.

Well, it's 20 years later and we're seeing forests die in Maine and Canada from acid rain.

Dan Quayle was vice president, arriving here in San Diego to address a Republican gathering.

California Democrat Alan Cranston was senator.

Water was at a premium snowmelt in the Sierra and Colorado River.

Water was down by 45%.

An ordinance was going to have to be put into effect in May.

Under no circumstances can you wash down your pavement, and that fountain that uses fresh water will have to run dry.

If somebody is found hosing off their sidewalk, then they can be warned and subsequently fined for that activity.

And one more thing.

Those protesters at the Padre game, they came back after one inning.

It was a symbolic statement, after all.

But in what year were all of these things true about San Diego?

Okay, that video coming from the news archives of or about San Diego partner station NBC seven San Diego.

So what do you think?

Can you guess the year?

If you already got it, then you get some extra credit.

But in the interest of fairness, I'll give you a couple more clues.

It was the year Cal State San Marcos opened.

The year Pete Wilson became governor of California, first governor ever from San Diego, where, of course, he had been mayor.

So did you guess the year 1990?

If so, congratulations.

You know a lot about San Diego.

One of the things that's great about doing this show is when you come across something that satisfies a curiosity.

I mean, you hear a name all the time, a name that everybody says or knows.

And you say to yourself, I wonder if there really was a Claire in Claremont, for example, as we discovered there was, or a Carlos in San Carlos, which again, there was.

And in that spirit, let's go now to a story from the North County about a huge old tree.

It's actually a double tree.

But don't get ahead of me here till you've seen this story about San Diego.

Now, here you have something.

This is an old tree that's really two trees.

And believe me when I tell you you've heard of this tree.

Whether you call it one tree or two, it's very famous.

This tree was pretty incredible.

You wouldn't believe how much it filled the sky or how old it is.

Nobody's exactly sure about that.

Maybe three, 4 or 500 years.

But these trees that look like 2 in 1 are on a ranch that Marty Talk now owns in San Marcos.

There was a drought in the late 80s, and the community came together and tried to save it because they could tell it was dying.

So they, you know, brought in water trucks and did everything they could, but they couldn't save it.

Okay.

They thought, that's the end of it.

This two part tree that so many people got to know and love a landmark for, as far back as anybody could remember, was one half dead.

They weren't really sure if this tree was one tree with two sides or two separate trees.

But then when this right side died, it kind of, you know, explained that part of the the whole story.

So it turns out it really was two trees all along that well back over 100 years ago was providing restful shade under its spreading oak branches in this valley.

It was wonderful.

There was even a school for boys here in 1905.

Come to this place by this tree and learn all the basic studies, math and English.

Of course, but so much more.

And the boys lived in tents.

If you can picture this giant, massive tree with this canopy of branches and all these boys living in tents that had come from Michigan or different parts of the country, you know.

Well, time also took its toll on the other one of these two trees.

And that's what it turned out.

They were two trees, one dead and one living in 1995, when, uh oh.

And one day I got a call from the neighbor said the tree fell.

That was a calm day like today.

And I was like, what do you mean?

They're like, you better come home.

And I came home and the tree had completely just snapped from all the weight, and it was everywhere.

I couldn't even get across the bridge.

Now both of these twin trees were done for sure.

Beloved in this valley and throughout San Marcos.

These trees that everybody had heard of and you have too city had a little ceremony to plant two new ones nearby.

So these are the two new ones we planted when we when everybody thought that the oak was no more.

But you know what?

This tree, this twin tree that everybody had written off as dead and gone.

Marty says is now showing some new growth.

This is kind of the first time anybody's really asked about the tree in a while, and found out that the tree is still alive after years, decades, centuries unknown.

It lives on, and the new growth of this famous twin tree has surprised everybody.

For it is, as I say, pretty well known because these two trees in one side by side in this valley are the twin oaks of San Marcos.

And the next time you hear a commuter or a traffic report to our North County neighbor mentioned Twin Oaks Valley Road.

Now you'll know how it got its name.

And this story about San Diego.

Did you know that?

Did you know there was a Twin Oaks?

I love when we can come across stories like that.

Okay, go back with me now to 1997 and 1998.

And there was in San Diego, a drama that seemed to have everybody around the world just entranced.

I mean, they were watching on TV all around the globe.

It involved a baby gray whale that became a bit of an international sensation, because no one could be sure how this was all going to work out.

If you were here, then if you were a student in school or following the news at all, you'll remember the story of JJ the whale.

Here's what happened.

It all started on a beach near Los Angeles.

A baby gray whale just a few days old lost its mother.

It was sick and weak.

Rescuers brought it to SeaWorld, and nobody could be sure how this was going to work out, because never before had any gray whale been cared for in captivity.

It was a fascinating thing to watch.

She was fed formula, gallons and gallons of it.

And day by day, the young whale grew bigger, put on more than eight tons of weight, where some scientists had originally worried that she might just die in captivity.

She in fact thrived.

Meantime, the whole drama caught the attention of San Diegans, who followed the story week by week on the news.

And then, in April of 1998, it was decided JJ was now strong enough.

It was time for JJ to go back home where she belonged.

The world was now following the story of the little gray whale that had grown up a lot, it was announced that JJ, now weighing 19,000 pounds, the first California gray whale ever to be rescued, was going to be released back into the sea.

When that April day came, she was put into a bright red 32ft canvas sling, obviously to safely lift her into the transport container, but also to have her properly balanced because, when she's on the Coast Guard vessel, they'll need the proper balance to safely swing her over the side out of the pool and into a flatbed truck.

JJ had become an international celebrity.

A global television audience was following every step of the process.

But this was a living creature that so many people had invested so much emotion in for so long that every step had to, at the same time, be delicate.

School kids around San Diego who had been following the story were watching too.

I'm happy that she's being released, but I hope.

I hope she doesn't bang into a boat.

News helicopters circled overhead as JJ's convoy came out of the SeaWorld parking lot, then went down Pacific Coast Highway to the U.S.

Navy Pier.

And the idea was then when she was released, she'd be tracked.

So you can see there's a backpack that contained a transmitter.

So researchers could follow her north to Alaska.

If that's where she was headed.

Then hoisted up by a 20 ton crane and transferred over to a Coast Guard cutter.

JJ was carried under the San Diego Coronado Bay bridge.

And finally, about three miles off Point Loma.

She took off, went south for like maybe 20ft, and then just whipped right around, made a quick U-turn.

And we're like, it's like a bat out of hell.

Headed sort of on the northwest, headed north northwest.

You see that?

We saw it, but she was gone.

Everything went fine.

And for those kids watching, it was a relief.

I felt like really nervous, like as you get, is there going to be a trap and there's going to be killer whales there, or, like, go to Alaska?

I hope.

Don't let anything stop you from going.

Scientists wanted to follow her.

But you know what?

JJ gave researchers the slip tracked for about 3 or 4 days.

She somehow shook off the backpack and was never heard from again.

You can call that sad if you want, but I don't really think so.

I like to think that JJ found friends in the ocean world.

That what she did and where she went is her business, and that in the end, both she and her human caretakers benefited from the whole adventure.

And really, that's how it ought to be.

A fitting end to this story about San Diego.

The story of JJ was an inspiration.

Books were written, dozens of scientific papers.

A sculpture was created.

And if you're curious about that name, JJ, it was a tribute to the late Judy Jones, who was director of operations at a marine rescue center in Laguna Beach.

Great whales, by the way, are no longer considered an endangered species, but they once were.

They can live for 50 years or even sometimes a little longer.

And we can wish for as long a life for JJ, who in some kind of whale way has an incredible story to tell other whales about San Diego.

It's hard to imagine sometimes when you look at what San Diego has become.

Hard to imagine how much of everything that is now developed into streets and housing units and shopping centers and freeways was once farmland.

There was citrus and avocados and so many crops that provided food not only for our county, but for the rest of the country.

There's still a lot done in more rural areas, but to see one patch of farmland still close into the city is unusual.

We found one in Chula Vista, and here is the story.

You talk about Chula Vista and for generations, this was it.

Not a big city.

No, it was agriculture.

Alfalfa and celery, a lot of celery in Chula Vista citrus.

Too lemons went out from here to all over the country.

Tomatoes.

A man found these old tomato crates in his garage and took them to the Chula Vista History Museum, because that's really what it is.

History.

The city is all changed.

Urbanized.

Developed fields became streets.

You don't see farms in Chula Vista anymore, except for this one.

The very last one.

Still growing strong right in the city limits.

The lone holdout at the corner of Fourth and Main.

One solitary strawberry field, bravely standing against encroaching urban pressures all around.

Fred Williamson's company operates it.

This remains as a hobby and a tradition in our family, and we have four locations like this up and down from here, all the way up to Oceanside.

Much of what they pick is sold right on the spot.

And there's something so wonderful about how fresh grown strawberries taste, anyway, sweet and ripe.

But these seem particularly so.

Maybe it's partly the good Chula Vista soil, I don't know.

But Fred says that man there with him.

Sam Kosaka is the main reason why, for decades, Sam's just known how things grow best in this particular neighborhood.

Their family grew celery and tomatoes.

And my father, when I was a young man, used to talk about this.

The soccer family and Sam's leadership on being some of the finest tomato growers he's ever come across in his life.

Sam, by the way, is a very personable, friendly guy.

He just doesn't want to be on camera or even have us take his picture.

Much preferring, I think, to have his strawberries speak for him.

And every day they do.

As to what's going to happen to this place.

After all, Fred and his company and Sam are longtime tenants here, but the land itself is owned by a cement company.

You look around, it's right in the city limits and all, and, you know, it's just a matter of time before it goes the way of the rest of what was once farmland in Chula Vista.

For his part, Fred's in no hurry to see that happen.

It's now a place that we come in and probably take a time out and remember where we came from and our roots and and and pay tribute to Sam and appreciation of the past.

And a respect for the wisdom that comes from knowing the land here.

In the end, it makes for a very sweet story about San Diego.

Very sweet.

This isn't meant to be a plug for the strawberries, but I'm just going to say that they are really yummy.

We did that story and then we came back to the station here with a box of them, which we distributed around the station here that day it was like biting into sugar.

I mean, they're just incredibly tasty.

It's it's nothing like store bought.

It's just different if you grow strawberries yourself or if you have ever tasted Sam's, then you know what I mean.

Okay.

Story now about street names in one particular neighborhood, San Diego's trivia expert, author and historian Evelyn Cooperman helps us be street smart here.

We wondered, who was it that first said those famous words?

Politics makes strange bedfellows.

You know who it was?

If you look, you'll find he said, a lot of interesting things.

Here's another one.

Everybody talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.

Charles Dudley Warner was his name.

100 years ago, he was a famous writer, an American essayist.

And he came to San Diego right around the turn of the century, stayed here for a short time.

He wrote in Harper's Monthly about the glories of the Hotel Del and the nearby ostrich farm.

He wanted to see more.

So he came here to Point Loma, and he looked out at the ocean on one side and the bay in the city on the other, and he said, wow.

And he was so impressed with the view.

He said it was one of the 3 or 4 best views in the entire world.

In fact, Point Loma Charles Dudley Warner said, commands one of the most remarkable views in the accessible, civilized world.

Well, we were pretty thrilled and grateful.

And today you look at Point Loma, you see street signs named for writers Dickens, Emerson, Keats and so on.

They all just get one apiece.

But Charles Dudley Warner gets three streets all in a row.

And the story is, it's because of all those nice things he had to say about San Diego, I think so.

Those author streets in Point Loma honor everyone from American novelist Louisa may Alcott to novelist and playwright Emile Francois Zola, A to Z, including the X for Greek historian and essayist Xenophon.

As for Mr.

Warner, he was a prolific writer of sketches, known, it was said, for their refined humor and mellow personal charm.

According to what's been written about him, he was a big advocate for things like public parks and movements aimed at the common good.

He died in 1900, in Connecticut.

Okay, now, as they say, for something completely different, if you are like me, when you hear about something that's unusual about a place, you got to go and check it out for yourself.

Like that story we did about the neighborhood in Dictionary Hill where you can put a ball on the ground and supposedly it rolls uphill.

Remember that?

Well, maybe it did, and maybe it didn't We couldn't tell.

Anyway, there was another place we wanted to see.

Although really what we wanted to do is go here and listen.

Listen to something that it's supposed to be true about this place.

And we thought you would be interested too.

So let's go.

I want to take you to a beautiful valley here, a little bit south of highway 94, in Jamul, where the story is that at certain times when the wind is blowing just so that wind might carry your voice to the hills beyond and back again, so you could hear an echo.

Well let's see.

Comes from that way.

All the way to that mountain and all the way back.

I don't think so.

did you hear it?

It seems to bounce off some of the closer in hills.

Or maybe ricochet off some nearby rocks.

Terry Levlon has a house down the street.

His dog barks once in a while.

We listened, but no dog echo.

If the dog wants an echo, I guess he makes his own.

Terry says he's heard coyotes echo in the night.

That's pretty strange to experience, but nobody actually comes around and yells.

I hadn't seen anybody until today.

Till today.

And I don't think it would be much appreciated if people started showing up doing it all the time.

Anyway, I guess the sound bounces around here if you think it does and you listen for it.

How else would this Jamul place have gotten its name?

Echo Valley, you know, we had to see if it was a true story about San Diego.

And that's it for this time.

And this episode of About San Diego, the show that is about us.

The things that make us unique here, from Oceanside to San Ysidro, Fallbrook to Jacumba and if, by the way, you want to see these shows again, learn more about the stories that you've seen here, leave a comment or even get an About San Diego t shirt or coffee mug.

I'm not kidding.

And some other fun things too that are not easily described.

Just go to our website Ken Kramer TV.com and we will see you next time.

Till then, I am Ken Kramer.

Thank you for watching and for caring about San Diego.

Thank you to the San Diego History Center for their continuous partnership and the use of their historic photos.

For more information, go to their website.

San Diego history.org.