My 50 Years in Palms

My 50 Years in Palms
by David I. Worsfold

This is the last in a series of articles on the history of Palms written by Mr. Worsfold, a recognized historian and civic leader who celebrated his 50th year in Palms on October 8, 1964.

In 1940, I started the campaign for Palms Junior High School. In the meantime, I circulated petitions for storm drains, street lights, street name changes, boulevard stop signs, traffic signals and alley paving jobs, worked for a park, schools, street improvements and anything the community needed. Although locally I was not given much recognition, in my office I was called the "Mayor of Palms."

I was appointed to fill a vacancy on the County Central Committee of the Democratic Party and at the next primary election I was third highest of seven positions and had over 7000 votes.

In 1941 I bought my first new car and picked it up at the Chevrolet plant in Flint, Mich. From there I toured eastern Canada and New England states.

My work for a junior high site was ended when the School District bought my recommended site. It was at that time that the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, Dec. 7, 1941. I didn't wait for the draft board to call me. I heard about the Naval Construction Battalions and the need for men with many different trades. With 16 years of experience on map work I could be valuable and maps were important to wage the war.

I joined the "Seabees" on June 20, 1942. I was on active duty from Nov. 1, 1942, to Dec. 7, 1945. My tour of duty included 16 months on four islands of Alaska with the 45th Battalion. I helped build the sets for war shows from defense workers at San Francisco, Vallejo and Berkeley. I shipped out on Admiral Byrd's Polar ship "Southern Cross," the "President Monroe" the Los Angeles built liberty ship "Patrick," victory ship "Sumpter," Dutch merchant ship "Sloterdyke" landing ship tank, pontoon barge and was shipwrecked at Dutch Harbor on the ancient "S.S. Yale" built in 1907.

I never was shot at or saw the enemy but I battled some of the world's worst weather, williwaws in the Aleutians and typhoons in the Philippines and saw two volcanoes in eruption. The war experiences would be a separate story to tell some other time. I was honorably discharged Dec. 7, 1945. (Pearl Harbor Day).

A month after my discharge, I saw the business manager of the School District to see the status of Palms Junior High School. War had stopped any construction on the site which had been owned for four years. Mr. Nibecker said the school was contingent upon a proposed bond issue and they couldn't start the plans until they had orders from superintendent of schools. I wrote the superintendent, Mr. Kersey, and asked for action.

It was ironic that my two pet projects had to be in conflict. The school district made plans for the Junior High to straddle Ocean Park Avenue, now Palms Boulevard. I suggested a Junior High south of the highway, an elementary north of the highway. The City required the opening and paving of Ocean Park Avenue, but when the school contract was let in 1948, the plans showed two fences across Ocean Park Avenue to block the highway. Then the fight began against the highway and I was right in the middle of the battle favoring the highway as essential to the City and several hundred people strongly against it.

The greatest and longest controversy in the history of Palms lasted eight years and was decided by the courts

so that the highway was opened and paved with a tunnel under it connecting the two parts of the school. When the highway was passable for five miles it was silly to have four names on it so I circulated a petition and obtained signatures of owners of two-thirds of the frontage. An ordinance City Council signed by the Mayor established the name Palms Boulevard.

Time was going faster and I was slowing down, when I passed the double five but I thought I was in good shape, however, my appendix was not.

In the first week of January, 1963, I was admitted to the hospital on Sunday just before midnight and this thing couldn't wait so they operated about 2 a.m. Call it peritonitis, or what have you, it was bad but I wasn't going to die, I would be OK in a few weeks.

After five days I was ready to go home for slow hearing, but something happened and I nearly died. My wife, Jean, saved my life by summoning the head nurse Mary Mel Smith, and she got the doctors immediately, an embolism stopped my clock, almost completely. They finally dissolved the clot in the brain but I was paralyzed and it was a long time before I was able to function half normally.

Many doctors and nurses worked on and with me and I want always to remember them but particularly Kathy Crosby because she was there to serve and certainly did not need the job. Her encouragement at a critical point was invaluable. At that point I didn't know if life was worth living because I couldn't write or even pronounce my own name.

Well, I did get better and back to work and resumed my civic work.