Sometime during the chaotic years of the second World War, a young woman named Phyllis Rahison Eakin arrived in La Jolla. She was smart and pretty, having grown up in Westchester County, New York and graduated from Cornell University with a degree in philosophy. She arrived with two very small daughters whose father soon deserted them, seeming to disappear forever from the face of the earth. But Phyllis was up to the challenge of being a single mom long before it became a popular euphemism. Her philosophy degree didn’t seem to get her very far in the work force but her well-honed mathematical skills helped land a job in aero engineering at General Dynamics Convair, aiding in the war effort. By 1947, she had saved enough to buy a house at 7569 Herschel Ave., an old, wood-shingle cottage originally built in 1909. She raised her two daughters there and as she aged, the house and garden she planted became a lifetime project. She died in her beloved garden in June at age 90, a small, frail woman who until two years ago regularly climbed a double extension ladder to trim the ivy around the top of the chimney. The house and an adjoining structure she built at the rear of the lot has recently been placed on the market for sale for $1.1 million. Both structures are surrounded and engulfed by the trees, vines, shrubs, flowers (and a bamboo forest!) that Phyllis nurtured for 53 years. A small saw with which she trimmed the huge jacaranda tree remains hanging high in the branches along with a rope system she engineered to get to the top. Small sheds and bamboo structures she created with her hands are everywhere in sight as well as the many artistic methods she engineered to hold all hoses with which she hand-watered the gardens. To keep track of time while she gardened, she hung the outdoors with a series of large clocks. But Phyllis was hardly a recluse. Ending her job with General Dynamics, she joined Megatex as a technical writer and, later, the University of California, San Diego in the computer sciences department. Even in later life she travelled extensively — to Indonesia, China, Mexico and throughout Europe. She enjoyed swimming at the Cove, folk dancing and playing folk songs on the recorder and guitar. Her insatiable curiosity led to an interest in the challenge of solving double acrostic puzzles. The inside of her house attests to this interest in many things. There are shelves of books on subjects ranging from the teachings of Buddha to James Thurber. Her interest in Japanese design is attested to in a living room where the quiet mood of Zen reigns. The front door is painted bright red. A tiny kitchen is organized down to the proper hanging of each stainless steel pot. The upstairs contains an attic used as a sewing room with an old cast iron machine and thread boxes neatly grouped according to color. A section of the attic also was used as storage where Phyllis kept detailed files of the various projects she undertook in her garden and house. What will become of this unique and interesting La Jolla woman’s property is anybody’s guess. The house, which merited mention in Pat Schaechlin’s 1978 historical survey, is sandwiched today between apartment buildings and sits across from Heinz Gietz Autohaus, a lone survivor of times past. Chake Balabanian, the listing agent for the property with Coldwell Banker, is sympathetic to its historical cause. “It would be a shame,” she said, ” to lose so much history of one person.” In her listing she notes: “It is with pleasure I invite and welcome every single member of the world community who shares the desire to own, restore and preserve a craftsman style 1909 cottage.” Clearly, 7569 Herschel is a very special place, imbued with the spirit of a special person. She kept many sayings posted through the house, among them this by Theocritus, 300 BC: “Oh to be a frog, my lady and live aloof from care.” Phyllis is now aloof. But her house and garden needs care. — Carol Olten is the historian for the La Jolla Historical Society.