A Little Trip Down Memory Lane

…for my Dad, because he does pop in here from time to time.

During the 60s and 70s, Hallcraft Homes was one of the biggest homebuilders in the Phoenix metro area. For many of those years, my dad worked as their chief designer. You can’t spit in Phoenix without hitting his work, and he’s perhaps the most recognized but unknown designer in the city’s residential history. Years ago he was questioning what he’d done in his life and I pointed this out to him. “But no one knows they’re my designs!”

I responded, “Not now,” but who knows what will happen in the future?

Years ago I visited the old neighborhood and happened to strike up a conversation with the then-owner of the house we lived in—a Hallcraft, naturally—when I was in high school and college. He was thrilled to meet the son of the designer and pointed out there was a quite a growing fan-base for that particular model, the “Horizon.” (The model was even seen in Raising Arizona.)

I made the mistake of accepting his invitation to come in and take a look at the old homestead. I was surprised that with twenty plus years having passed, much of what I remembered about it was still intact, but the beautiful deck my dad had built out back was gone, as was the swimming pool my parents had installed about a year before I moved out. When people say you can never go home, they mean it.

But I digress…

I found these photos online while searching for pictures of the “Hallcraft Showcase of Homes.” Unfortunately, it seems there are no surviving photos—or at least nothing online. I find this kind of unusual, because at the time (the late 1960s) the place was unique in that it provided a single location where buyers could tour all of Hallcraft’s current single-family homes and close a deal without having to drive around to each of the far-flung subdivisions. With my budding interest in architecture and design, I always found it to be a bit of a wonderland, especially when discontinued designs were torn down or hauled away and new ones were built in their place. It also must have been a great money-saver for the company, because they only had to decorate a single set of model homes, not dozens. (There were still models to tour in each subdivision, but they weren’t decorated.) Sadly, the place was razed in the mid 1970s and like so many other pieces of Phoenix history is now only a fading memory.

Peace Out

Ray Bradbury, 1920-2012

Thank you Mr. Bradbury, for taking my gaze outward and upward when I was but a wee young thing. From The Martian Chronicles to The Illustrated Man to Farenheit 451 to I Sing the Body Electric and countless others, you had a profound influence on my life and will not be forgotten.

The One That Got Away

When you were a kid, was there ever one toy that you wanted with all your heart and soul that Santa never brought you?

With me it was this:

That Christmas I implored the big fat man in the red suit to bring me this thing. Point a colored laser at your target, hold down the trigger and watch the thing disappear:

How cool is that? If only it really worked that way.  Of course it wasn’t a real laser, and just because your target didn’t actually blow up made no difference to the imagination of a nine year old.

The fact that I never got this cool gun is one of those weird little things that stayed with me for years afterward. The fact that my parents absolutely lavished gifts on my sister and I that Christmas—and for many, many subsequent ones—never quite offset the disappointment of not finding a Plazer waiting under the tree.

Until a few weeks ago, I had completely forgotten about the Plazer, but then I stumbled across this site, and it all came rushing back. (And to be honest, rediscovering a hell of a lot of other toys that I did get that I’d completely forgotten about.) Further Googling led me to this—which probably explains why I never got the gun. I’m sure my folks tried it out in the store, discovered it was a piece of crap, and refused to throw away the $8.88 (which was a decent chunk of change back then) on something that didn’t work to begin with.

Santa, you’re forgiven—and thanks again for all the other amazing stuff you did bring me over the years.

World AIDS Day

Remembering:

Kent Kelly
Ben Walzer
Ken Cohen
Steve Golden
Dennis Shelpman
Philip Ruckdeschel
Jim Hagen
Peter Whitman
Chuck Krahe
John Trapp
Marty Kamner
Michael Nelson
Jim Nye
Ken Borg
Harold Gates
Jim Girard
Kevin Ohm
Scott Woods
Bobby Farina
Brian Lea
Fred Sibinic
Steve McCollom
Rick King
Tom Farrell
Chuck Mayer
Richard Gulliver
Ron Aiazzi
Keith Roseberry
Grant Neilsen
Ric Hathaway
David Koston