The Malibu fire and the crashing of memories

​Reading up on the Malibu fires I ran across photos of the devastation of Jeff Bridges' family home and the entire stretch of beach alongside it. I burst into tears as my father’s home had been just a few doors away. So many memories came flooding back.  I was surprised by my reaction- it was just a house and we hadn’t owned it for years.  And yet, it was so much more than that.
21632 and 21634 Pacific Coast Highway were built by Edgar Rice Burroughs in the 1930’s. 

These homes were two of the very first built on La Costa Beach in Malibu. He lived in one house while the other was carved up into little offices so he could wander from one to the other dictating Tarzan adventures.  Upstairs was a dormitory where his secretaries would sleep during the week.  He ultimately sold the property to June Havoc, a wonderful actress, sister to Gypsy Rose Lee, and my Godmother.

My father, Sy Salkowitz, moved to Los Angeles in 1959 to become a Hollywood writer.  Sending every penny he earned to my mother for support, he ended up surviving, at one point, on a potato a day.  His first sale was for Perry Mason and as they say the rest is history.  He became on of the most prolific writers in television history and went on to become the president of 20th Century Fox TV and Viacom.
Along the way he purchased the two Burroughs’ homes from my Godmother which by then had been converted into five apartments.  My father lived in one and wrote in another. 

Anne Shirley, the star of the original Anne of Green Gables, was one of his first tenants. Adam West of Batman fame, lived in another.  Both of these wonderful actors were extraordinary people, so down-to-earth and loving. My very first job was washing Adam’s new dishes.  I was about nine.

Growing up I never told my friends who my father was, as the one time I had let it slip I was immediately treated as if I were a spoiled brat and became an object rather than a person.  So no one got to hear the stories- how Dustin Hoffman spent a summer renting the house next door; how it was Sandy Koufax who taught me how to serve a volleyball without hurting myself.  How heartthrob Fabian was one of the kindest people I’d ever met and how Irving Wallace was thrilled I was a reader even though I’d mistaken him for Irving Stone.

We never knew who was going to be in our living room when we walked in, be it Karen Valentine who Dad was dating before he married my wonderful step-mother, Pat Quinn or Yossi Harel, the real life soldier who became Ari ben Canaan in the movie, Exodus.  Monty Hall once grew a beard and he said it was so people would stop confusing him for my father (they did look alike).

Perhaps one of my favorite fan girl moments was when Mel Brooks told me I was funny as I explained the challenges of living in Tarzan’s home.

Each summer, our end of the beach would have a massive “Pig Party” – where the corn was soaked overnight in salt water, and everything was cooked in a huge pit in the sand. And the parents weren’t allowed to limit junk food or stop us from night-swimming.  I remember commenting to one adult how great it was that everyone left their beach lights on every night to which she replied, “Oh no honey, when we hear you are at your Dad’s we always leave them on so you can dance on the beach in the light. We do that for you.”

During the 80’s there was a huge tsunami that took out a number of homes, one of my Dad’s included.  The first call was from Lloyd Bridges, of Sea Hunt fame, Jeff and Beau’s dad, “What do you need Sy?  Whatever you need, just name it.”
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This wasn’t just a collection of homes owned by rich people.  They were real folks who cared about one another who happened to help build an entire industry.  My heart goes out to all who have lost their homes, regardless of circumstances.  I can’t help but imagine their fear and rootlessness.  May warm memories help you through.

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