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After 50 years, Willow Ranch continues to hold a spell over its homeowners, which might explain why six of the 49 ranch-style houses belong to Vince Maestri's family. And why residents like Fred Hendricks and Fortune Masdeo consider the neighborhood their little patch of heaven.
At first glance the area might look like an exclusive community because a scant number of homes—on lots of 1/3 to 1/2 acre—have come on the market during the last 54 years. But residents say the development, built along Cottle and Westmont avenues between Husted Avenue and Koch Lane, holds its appeal because it's a throwback to the past with its rural character and friendly neighbors.
Many residents see the neighborhood as an area in San Jose that managed to preserve its long-standing history and sustain its post-War World II charm and character. And that appeal has kept the homes from turning over.
Fred Hendricks, 90, one of the development's original owners, says when he and his wife saw the first four Willow Ranch houses being built in 1950, they decided "it was too far out in the country." Six months later, when more houses sprung up on Cottle Avenue, Hendricks says he "fell in love with his house" because of the wide frontage, circular driveway and sprawling, one-story design.
"As far as I'm concerned, this is paradise," Hendricks says.
Paradise was created by Willow Ranch developers Walker Vaughn and his nephew Bob Dodge. They bought a walnut orchard in Willow Glen five years after World War II ended, while the nation was experiencing the housing-tract boom. Both Vaughn and Dodge had been raised on ranches and wanted to create homes that were "people friendly," says Preservation Action Council of San Jose President Jim Zetterquist, who lives in Willow Ranch.
For Zetterquist, the connection to Willow Ranch began when he attended the 1976 Fourth of July party with his college roommate, Vince Maestri. Three years later he bought his home on Cottle Avenue, planning to fix it up and sell it within two years, but that was 25 years ago.
And over the years, as he got to know his neighbors and the bonds grew strong, a sense of extended family developed, he says.
These solid relationships are the reason a handful of neighbors organized a surprise party for Fred Hendricks when he turned 90 years old in May, making him a scrapbook of memories.
Zetterquist calls Hendricks and the Masdeos—the last two original homeowners in Willow Ranch—"the heart and soul of the neighborhood."
Ninety-year-old Terry Masdeo remembers when she and her 85-year-old husband, Fortune, went house hunting in 1950.
"Fortune insisted he was not going to live on a city lot," she says.
And country charm was exactly what Terry found when she passed Willow Ranch on her way to look at other homes with a Realtor. Although the Realtor discouraged her from looking on Cottle Avenue because Vaughn and Dodge were selling the homes themselves, Terry says she "kept thinking about the house in the middle of the night. From then on, it was our house."
When Dodge told Fortune he needed to make the down payment to secure the property, Fortune said he wasn't able to because the banks were closed for Thanksgiving. So Fortune tore out the "For Sale" sign and threw it in the orchard because he didn't want anyone else to buy it, Terry says.
The day after Thanksgiving, Fortune went to the bank with Dodge and paid him the entire $19,000 for the house in cash, she says.
"Dodge dropped his face," says Terry, laughing.
For more than 50 years the Masdeos' home has stayed virtually unchanged. The same rug that graced the kitchen floor in a 1951 photo for a San Jose Mercury News article introducing the housing tract still covers the hardwood floor. The knotty pine and wrought-iron fixtures still grace the original kitchen. And Terry keeps photos of all the neighbors' children at her desk and a glass jar of jelly beans for visitors.
Although Terry's gentle persona leaves the impression that she would never hurt a fly, she tells one story about a time when she was tough as nails. One morning she heard a terrible noise in front of her house and ran outside in her nightgown, she says. A city worker explained he had orders to cut down the walnut trees that lined the street.
"You're going to have to cut through me,'" Terry says.
The city relented on the tree issue, but Willow Ranch almost lost the battle to maintain its rural streetscape.
Yet decades later a sense of pastoral community still thrives, with streets that don't have sidewalks or streetlights and walnut trees that were preserved. And Willow Ranch's trademark white ranch gates stay open invitingly, except when the streets shut down to traffic during Halloween and the streets' Fourth of July parade.
Even the backyards, which once were landscaped without fences, enabling children to run the length of the block through the backyards, still hold their allure.
And back in the 1950s, residents would open their Dutch doors for martini time at 5:30 p.m. or relax as their meals sizzled in the outdoor fireplace, creating a social atmosphere, Zetterquist says.
He notes that the ranch-style house originated in California and was modeled after Mexican adobe homes with their long porches and outdoor courtyards that focused on entertaining and living.
Zetterquist points to the historical Peralta Adobe House—a two-room adobe house built in 1797 on St. John Street in San Jose—as the ranch-style homes' predecessor. Kitchens in adobe houses such as Peralta's were small because cooking and dining was done outdoors—a tradition that continues in Willow Ranch homes today.
Zetterquist says he and his family eat breakfast and dinner in their front courtyard and often have neighbors drop by.
And nothing beats the Fourth of July party tradition for neighborhood unity. The streets have had a block party since 1950 and close the ranch gates to vehicles. Zetterquist says a tradition in past decades was to have progressive dinner parties or a neighborhood potluck. Now the affair is catered, but the children still decorate their bicycles and lead a Fourth of July street parade down Cottle and Westgate avenues. Even Willow Glen Fire Station No. 6 firefighters got into the spirit and brought their engine to the festive day. This year the day included square dancing, children's games and a holiday-mailbox-decorating contest.
While residents value the shared community and events and appreciate the overarching ranch theme, the individual homeowners still have slightly different takes on their ranch homes.
Zetterquist kept his courtyard outdoors, made his one-story house taller and created an East Coast farmhouse look, he says, while the Masdeos leaned toward farmhouse antique, adding flower boxes and making their patio an outdoor living room. Hendricks also found his patio practical and converted it into a family room when his three children were growing up. And there are other slight differences between the homes built earlier on Cottle Avenue and the later ones on Westgate Avenue.
As television became more popular, Walker and Dodge added family rooms with cathedral ceilings to the homes on Westgate Avenue, Zetterquist says.
"Trends changed," says the 50-year-old designer and preservationist. "Unfortunately, the houses became less front-oriented."
Residents like Zetterquist, who are concerned with preservation, but who like slightly different architectural styles, say they want Willow Ranch to maintain its distinctive nature, but don't want to restrict homeowners' choice of design.
"It's important that everyone has flexibility to express their creativity, but still have homes with cohesiveness that tie into the flavor of the neighborhood," said Zetterquist, a former San Jose planning commissioner and historic landmarks commission member.
And recognizing ranch-style homes as historically valuable has only come about recently.
But there was a time when Willow Ranch's preservation as a development was in jeopardy.
Before the development was incorporated into the city in the 1960s, the roads in Willow Ranch were gravel. The city encouraged Willow Ranch to incorporate, but its residents voted against it, wanting to maintain its uniqueness, its rural feel that included no sidewalks and no streetlights, Terry says.
When the city failed to incorporate the development on the first try, it included it with other areas so that Willow Ranch homeowners could not vote it down, Hendricks says. The determined neighbors hired an attorney to negotiate with the city. It also helped that during the 1960s Hendricks lived next door to former San Jose Mayor Bob Doerr. The former mayor helped work out an agreement with the city to incorporate Willow Ranch without requiring sidewalks or streetlights. The city declared it "a country subdivision in the city," which brought it within San Jose boundaries, paved the gravel roads and created curbs for water runoff.
As the homes have aged, the development has acquired historical architectural value.
"I'm a preservationist, but sometimes we don't recognize our own area," Zetterquist says. "Until recently, we looked farther back at Victorian and Craftsman-style homes, but now we're looking at ranch-style and Eichlers. It's hard for people to accept that homes as old as I am qualify to be historic homes."
He adds that there are different levels of city preservation. Designating Willow Ranch a conservation area would add the need to use city-approved design guidelines for exterior compatibility with the neighborhood, but would still allow flexibility, he says, whereas if the neighborhood voted to become a historic district, exterior changes would be discussed at a city hearing.
So far, the remodels have been sensitive to the original design, Zetterquist says, and he's talked to neighbors about whether Willow Ranch should pursue historic-district status.
"The neighborhood has differing opinions," he says. "People want to keep a continuity, but don't want their hands tied by the city."
It's the continuity that appealed to newer resident Jennifer Beveridge, who moved to Cottle Avenue two years ago. She liked the fact that the houses were not a "hodgepodge."
Terry Masdeo completely agrees and reaffirms it with a simple response, "I wouldn't live anyplace else."
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