The anniversary will be a restrained celebration. There will be no parade, no fireworks, no ceremonial plaques, nor any town monument. City leaders say that would be inappropriate, given that the city's golden anniversary comes during its most tumultuous time.
“We've been downplaying the 50th celebration because our efforts have been on keeping this city as a city,” City Councilwoman Marina Fraser said. “A lot of cities would go all out, but that couldn’t be a priority for us.”
 Photo courtesy Half Moon Bay History Association Members of the first Half Moon Bay City Council gather in the Review newsroom on June 23, 1959, after election results show overwhelming support for city incorporation. Back row, from left is Mayor J.L. Carter, and councilmen Pat Cardoza, Steve Ponce, Bruno Granelli. Councilman Ellis Benson is center and below. |
Call it apt or call it ironic that the city's landmark birthday comes as the city faces the greatest test for its survival.
Half Moon Bay History Association President Dave Cresson says the incorporation of Half Moon Bay may have stemmed some of the problems that led to Beachwood. Half Moon Bay’s litany of council members sometimes handled difficult issues in very ignorant ways, he said.
“The more professional leaders in San Mateo County never would’ve made our mistakes,” Cresson said. “They don’t do the things that judge condemned as a mistake with Beachwood.”
But Cresson says Half Moon Bay’s incorporation became a hugely popular idea among locals back in the 1950s. That popularity was rooted local concerns about the future of the Coastside. Half Moon Bay, believed to be the oldest community in the county, once had its own local member on the Board of Supervisors, along with stronger political sway among county officials. Locals began to perceive they were being neglected by the county officials over the hill however, particularly with infrequent patrols from the Sheriff’s Office and the ongoing need to hire private patrols.
“Getting local control was very important,” said Fraser, who also studies Coastside history and has been active in the Spanishtown Historical Society. “Half Moon Bay used to really have a voice on the county Board of Supervisors … and they really wanted to retain that type of control.”
The effort to incorporate was lead by local resident “Nick” J.L. Carter, a local psychometrist (someone who professionally administers mental tests). Carter and other advocates worked for more than three years to promote the idea of forming a city among nearby farmers and families. Carter later became the first mayor of Half Moon Bay.
When incorporation was brought before voters in 1959, they approved it with 76-percent support — a landslide victory.
The official announcement of the incorporation victory was a small-town media event — it happened right inside the Review’s current building with the paperwork officially signed on a couple pushed-together desks. On July 15, 1959, about 200 people crowded to celebrate the city’s birth in the Half Moon Bay High School gymnasium, which is now occupied by Cunha Intermediate School.
The city started with a modest population of about 1,900 and had money for a lone city manager. Establishing a police department, one of the primary goals for incorporation, took more time and didn’t come to fruition until 1961.
“It was a simpler time of life in the ’50s and ’60s,” recalled Mayor John Muller, a born-and-raised Coastsider. “The budget was small, and people did what they could to get by.”
Muller remembers his father in law, former mayor Al Adreveno, regularly having to change out of his farm coveralls to hop over to a City Council meeting — then immediately afterward having to drive up to San Francisco to deliver a shipment of flowers for the next morning.
Muller, himself a throwback to the city’s simpler agricultural roots, says the city has weathered some tough time — and nearly could’ve gone under this year.
“Things for Half Moon Bay have gotten much more complex,” he said. “We’ve had a down three years, but we’re still going to be a great city.”
Cresson says the intersection of the city’s anniversary and the culmination of Beachwood is downright eerie.
“There is a certain poetry in this,” he said wryly. “What a way to celebrate the 50th!”
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