Corona del Mar packs a political punch

Not everyone is aware that Corona del Mar has played a vital role in

shaping the political government of our city.

It didn’t begin that way. Until 1923, the city of Newport Beach

paid no attention at all to Corona del Mar or its residents. The

reason is that Corona del Mar was not yet part of the city. Since

those who lived in Corona del Mar couldn’t vote in city elections,

Corona del Mar was of as much interest to the city as Tustin. One of

the basic laws of politics is that if you can’t vote, you don’t

exist. Corona del Mar didn’t exist.

That all changed when Corona del Mar was annexed in 1923. Almost

at the same time, there was a political revolution in the city of

Newport Beach. The Newport group that had run the city since its

incorporation in 1906 was ousted by a group of young Balboans led by

a man named Lloyd Claire.

From then until World War II, Lloyd Claire was, for all intents

and purposes, the political boss of Newport Beach. This was a

machine-run city just as surely as New York City under Tammany Hall

or Chicago under Richard J. Daley. This is not to say that good

things were not accomplished during this period.

The Lloyd Claire administration dragged the city through the Great

Depression when other cities were going belly up. It was during that

administration that the dredging of the bay took place, an event most

historians cite as the No. 1 reason for the growth of the city to its

present position as the most desirable place to live on the Pacific

Coast.

But it was machine politics. A small group of men from one part of

town ran the whole city. It was during this period that Corona del

Mar acquired the nickname Red Hill.

Just before a municipal election, Lloyd Claire would call together

all the party faithful. He would go through each precinct name by

name, assigning someone to contact each and every voter to see to it

that everyone voted for the administration’s handpicked candidates.

Everything would go along smooth as clockwork until the Corona del

Mar precinct came up.

Perhaps it was the mountain air, in contrast to the sea-level air

of the rest of the city, but Corona del Mar seemed to be full of

independent-minded, free-thinking people who declined to march lock

step with the rest of the town. They simply wouldn’t stand in line

like the rest of the folks and rubber stamp whatever program the

administration had.

Whoever was assigned to Corona del Mar always hung his head in

shame at his lack of success. His only excuse: It was rumored that

there were Democrats in Corona del Mar. If there were Democrats,

could communists be far behind? Thus the nickname Red Hill.

World War II brought a second revolution -- the end of the Lloyd

Claire administration and a whole new way of governing the city. A

new breed came into power -- high-principled men of honesty,

intelligence and integrity.

Among them were two outstanding men from Corona del Mar, Braden

Finch and Clyan Hall. Under their leadership, the city outgrew

machine politics. Another Corona del Mar resident, Les Steffensen,

headed the committee that gave the city its present city charter that

assures that never again will a small group from one part of town be

able to control the whole city.

Others from Corona del Mar who carried on their high principles

were Jay Stoddard, Andy Smith, Hans Lorenz, O.Z. Robertson, Phil

Sansone and Dennis O’Neil. The list is not at all complete, These are

just a few whose names come to mind.

Not bad for a place that no one noticed for its first 20 years and

then was maligned as Red Hill for another 20.

* ROBERT GARDNER is a Corona del Mar resident and a former judge.

His column runs Tuesdays.