por Michael Bueno

Everyone who loves an old house cherishes the illusion that it might be historic. And usually he or she is right. Most old houses were built by someone significant, were lived in by someone who long ago did something notable or notorious or at least interesting, and are examples of a certain house type that exists only in the past, often in a neighborhood that is already considered historic or may soon be recognized as such. The problem is usually a matter of degree. Every old house is significant, but some are more significant than others.

For better or worse, what is historic in San Diego is now determined by the City of San Diego Historical Resources Board, an appointed, volunteer body that determines, among other things, whether or not a house qualifies for a Mills Act exclusion—a significant tax break that can be passed on to new owners. The Board’s job is to sometimes say no and to keep the bar set high. It has become the defacto doorman for the really cool history party that every owner of an old house wants to crash.

While most old houses have only one claim to fame, occasionally a homeowner hits the historic trifecta—the architect is certifiably significant, a resident was justifiably famous and the house type is rare and worth preserving.

That’s what happened in 2009 when the new owner of 1328 Virginia Way hired Ron May of Legacy 106 to research her house. At first glance, Windemere, as the house was originally known, seemed to have everything going for it: it was an Irving Gill-designed 1890s Redwood-paneled beach cottage that had been the residence of a best-selling author and was the oldest occupied residential structure in La Jolla.

But when the City of San Diego finally issued its report on Aug. 11, the staff recommended that the application for historic designation be denied. On Aug. 25, the Board concurred. Now the house’s fate hangs in the balance. In fact, demolition has already begun. The diamond paned leaded glass windows have been removed, and the distinctive roofline, with protruding rafter tails and hand-carved brackets, has been sawed off. The wrecking ball may be next.

Windemere was built in 1895 from plans drawn up by the firm of Falkenhan & Gill. It was one of several cottages built by Gill along Prospect on the cliffs overlooking the Cove. The owners, John and Agnes Kendall, already had one Gill-designed house, on a ranch in El Cajon, where they lived most of the year. They likely saw Gill’s other cottages along the La Jolla coast and asked him to build them something similar. The design Gill came up with has many unique features, but Windemere is also a recognizable type—an informal beach cottage.

Like many beach cottages of its era, Windemere had its resident artist, the English writer and suffragist Beatrice Harraden, who had written some of her more celebrated books while staying at the Kendalls other homes, in London and El Cajon. Harraden did some writing in La Jolla, and during her stay one of her novels was serialized in the San Diego Union. The Kendalls eventually sold the house, subsequent owners moved it a few blocks east to Virginia Way, and La Jolla became a very different place. No longer an artists retreat and seasonal get-away, with houses that had names rather than numbers, La Jolla today has some of the most pricey real estate in the country, and architecture that is notable first and foremost for just being big. Really Big.

When I visited Windemere in the spring of 2010, I found it surprisingly well preserved. A beach cottage is an exercise in modesty, so its charm is subtle. The ceiling is low upon entering, and it only opens up as you pass to the dining room, which now looks out to the backyard, rather than the ocean. Everywhere you turn, you are surrounded by wood: ceiling, floor and walls; it must have once felt like being in a Redwood forest at the edge of the sea. There’s a cathedral-like feeling to the place. Maybe it’s because of the timeless nature of the house, the fact that so little has been changed, as if it’s been preserved in amber… or shellac. Few houses this age show so little evidence of their previous inhabitants.

“It’s a real time capsule,” says Erik Hanson, a South Park resident and Gill expert who has probably been in more Gill houses than anyone alive. “It’s an all-wood house. Board and batten. Single wall construction. It’s a house that shows you how it was put together.” When it comes to what makes it worth saving, he says, “It’s just different. It’s not like anything else. I can’t think of too many that are even similar. The casualness of it being a beach house. The lack of formality. It represents what was once unique about La Jolla when it was an artists hangout.”

Despite its well-preserved condition, the Historical Resources Board’s main reason for rejecting Windemere was “due to a lack of integrity.”

What really sealed Windemere’s fate however, was the decision of the homeowner who originally applied for historical designation to sell the house, rather than restore it. The new owner, who purchased the property in February 2011, hired a lawyer, Scott Moomjian, to argue against historic designation. When the Board reviewed the application, it now had a series of addendum to consider, written by Moomjian, refuting the original report’s claims. Moomjian, in person, addressed the Board regarding his objections to the report. No member of the community was allowed to respond, so essentially Windemere was defenseless.

For anyone familiar with Gill, or how architects work, or how writers write, or how buildings change over time, Moomjian’s arguments are just plain silly. Foremost among them is the claim that Windemere isn’t really an Irving Gill. It was built during a period when Gill was in partnership with Joseph Falkenhan, Moomjian says, and therefore there’s no telling who really designed it. As for Windemere’s lack of “integrity”?

“That’s based on a misreading of a historic resource,” says Dan Soderberg, of the Neighborhood Preservation Coalition. “They say the windows were moved and a portion was added. Look at the permit. It was pulled by the firm of Falkenhan & Gill, one year after the first permit. Those additions were done early on and by Irving Gill. The addition was to accommodate the writer, Beatrice Harraden. Moomjian claimed the building had lost its integrity because the leaded glass windows had been removed over the years, but according to newspaper reports, the only windows that were removed were the two sidelights, which were stolen 30 years ago. The other windows were removed this year by the current owners. Photographs of the house from the period before the present owners bought it show the windows intact.”

Soderberg, a Normal Heights resident whose organization is made up of a number of historic and neighborhood groups, has another beef: Although the board is not supposed to consider the wishes of the homeowner, one board member admitted he did just that. “He stated publicly that he would never vote for a project that wasn’t supported by the owner. He just wouldn’t vote for it if the owner were against it. That’s pretty unfortunate. He should be disqualified. The person who should disqualify him is Mayor Sanders,” Soderberg said.

Reading the Board’s minutes and Report No. HRB-11-052, you might get the impression that a majority of the Board voted against historic designation for Windemere, but that’s not actually the case. The majority voted for historic designation. But because the board has some vacant seats and because there were some absences on the day of the vote, a simple majority was not sufficient to pass muster. There had to be a “super” majority, meaning five votes, and there were only four votes in favor of historic designation for Windemere.

Does this mean the end for historic designation in San Diego? After all, if Windermere isn’t historic, than what is?

“No,” says Erik Hanson. “It’s certainly possible to get a house designated when the house is worthy and the owners are in favor of it.” In the Aug. 25 meeting, the Board designated five houses and turned down two.

So what’s next for Windemere? The La Jolla Historical Society plans to appeal. In the meantime, there’s really nothing to stop the owner from continuing to demolish the house piece by piece, or he can wait for a demolition permit and do it in a matter of hours. It’s not unheard of for a homeowner to just skip the permit process and start knocking a building down. The City can force him to stop, but by the time the building department gets word, it’s usually too late. No matter what the City decides, or says, or does, once the bulldozers begin to roll, no one will ever be able to put Windemere back together again.

To read Legacy 106’s report, go to www.legacy106.com. To read the Board’s decision, see www.sandiego.gov/planning/pro¬grams/historical/pdf/reports/hrb11052mtng110825.pdf.