Half Moon Bay Memories & El Granada Observer

(Photo: Looks like early Moss Beach. Courtesy Millie Muller. Email Millie: classy_46@hotmail.com)

A few days ago, I got an email from Millicent Muller, who lives in Farmville, North Carolina. Millie is a devoted genealogist who began researching her family roots in 1980, “back when,� she explains, “you actually had to handwrite a letter to the clerk of the court, asking for information. Of course, that included sending a check to pay for a copy, if there was a record.�

Today Millie uses the Internet, including ancestry.com, with pouring in faster than before.

She began “searching for a connection to Cherokee Indians on my mother’s side. Then I switched to my father’s side. Through him is the Frank Torres connection.�

In the 1920s Frank Torres built and ran the popular roadhouse called “Frank’s,� (today known as the Moss Beach Distillery.) He married Fanny Lea, who died on the Coastside in 1976.

Why does Millie want to know more about Fanny and Frank Torres?

Fanny Torres was Millie’s aunt, one of her father Howard Lea’s three sisters. Millie never met Frank or Fanny but “would love to contact someone related to Frank Torres. That would probably have to be a grandchild of Frank’s who might have a photo of him with Fanny, someone who could pass along family stories. I’d love either one!�

HalfMoonBayMemories (HMBM)

Tell me a little about you. (Photo: Millie Muller)

Millie Muller (MM):
I was born in 1954 when HH ( my father Howard) was 64 years old. Everyone either called him HH or Old Man Lea. I had an older sister and yes a younger one. We were called The Lea Girls. HH married my mom when she was 20. She is still alive and remembers some things about what he talked about. To the best of my knowledge he never spoke with any of his family. HH died in 1966. He was 75 years old.

HMBM:
So you began your search.

Millie Muller (MM)

The first real information I got about Fanny came from a copy of my grandmother’s death certificate. Her name was Martha Lea and she died in 1941. Grandmother Martha and Aunt Fanny lived on the East Coast and then suddenly moved to Moss Beach. But I don’t know why.

HMBM:

What else did you learn?

MM:

It was my Aunt Fanny who provided the information on her mother’s death certificate. That was the first time I knew for sure that Fanny had been married, and what her married name was. And that was the first time I heard of Moss Beach.

HMBM:

What about Frank Torres?

MM:

It says that Fanny’s husband, Frank Torres, was the owner of the Frank Torres Beach Hotel on the Coastside. When I did an Internet search on the hotel, it brought up a page that shows the Moss Beach Distillery, and there was mention of Frank Torres.

Three years before my grandmother’s death, she drew up a document for my father. It was dated Sept 13, 1938, giving his place of birth and birth date. The notary was R. Guy Smith. I searched Amazon.com for books about the Coastside and found his name in association with some pictures in a book. That was very exciting for me!

HMBM:

And you also got Fanny’s obit, right? How did you get that?

MM:

I posted a query on rootsweb asking for information about Fannie’s obituary and burial. Within nine days, a lady called Colleen copied and posted Fannie’s obituary for me.

There was so much information in the obituary. Her funeral service was held at Cypress Lawn Memorial Park in Colma; her street address, Ocean Blvd. in Moss Beach.

Her husband, Frank Torres, was the owner of Frank Torres Hotel on the Coastside. She was a 47-year resident of the Coastside, a native of Verona Mills, New York. She was survived by her husband and four step-children: Frank Jr., Jacinto, Margaret and Nellie.

My goal is to learn as much as I can about these people. Why the move from New York to California? That would have been a huge move for a widow (her husband, Edwin Charles Lea, died in 1906) and her three grown daughters, Fanny, Alice and Maude.

HMBM:

Did you know Frank’s restaurant was a prohibition-era roadhouse?

MM:

I first learned about the prohibition roadhouse when I did a search on the Frank Torres Beach Hotel in Moss Beach. That search brought me to your website, and that’s where I read about that.

HMBM:

Did you know there were rumors about Fannie working as a “madam,� running a bordello in the bungalows (now gone) next door to the roadhouse?

MM:

I had no idea about the rumors, and it doesn’t bother me at all. Matter of fact, I got a chuckle out of it. My oldest sister, Wanda, her mother-in-law, ran a house in Norfolk, VA back in the day. Wanda passed in ’96.

HMBM:

What else did you learn from Fanny’s obit?

MM:

In Fanny’s obituary, it says she was survived by Frank and four step-children: Frank, Jr. of Hillsborough; Jacino of South San Francisco; Margaret Rossi of Pacifica and Nellie Tooring of San Francisco.

If anyone has pictures of Frank and Fanny together, I’m guessing it would be them or their children. So far I haven’t found any information about them—but I just learned about them.

HMBM:

Here’s some background info about Frank Torres gleaned from food critic Ruth Thompson’s 1930s book (“Eating Around San Francisco.�)

Born in Peru, Frank Torres left his home at the age of 14, and traveled the globe, trekking through Central and South America, Europe and the Philippines. As a steward on vessels that called at ports of the world, he “learned to cook in every language.�

He also rubbed elbows with the rich and famous, such as Alice Roosevelt, a cousin of Eleanor Roosevelt, the future First Lady. In 1905 Torres was present when Alice met and fell in love with Nicholas Longworth, a freshman congressman from Ohio. Their wedding, later held in the East Room of the White House, was to be the social event of the season.

About 1920 Frank came to Moss Beach. At first he had an “attractive rambling place,� but in 1928 he built the new “bungalow restaurant.�

The kitchen was commandeered by members of the Torres family, including Mrs. Torres, “ a charming hostess,� Frank, Jr., the chef, and Victor, who not only worked as a waiter but also played the piano.

In the eyes of food critic Ruth Thompson, Frank Torres “led a life of romance and adventure which makes the live of us ordinary stay-at-homes quite pale beside it.�

MM:

I just found Frank’s name on the 1930 census report. He’s number 185. And on the 1920 report, he is number 1418.

I think all this exciting!

HMBM:

Let’s talk about the photos a bit. The one of the lady with the white cat—could that be taken at the Distillery? I know you’ve never been there, and the restaurant doesn’t look like that today, but, to me, it feels familiar.

MM:

I was thinking the same thing about the picture of Martha (my grandmother) and the white cat. Two things: the color of the building and the archway shadow appear to be the same as in the photo.

According to the dates on the snap shots, the time frame is right for all the photos to have been taken in Moss Beach.

HMBM:

We all hope you’ll solve the mystery—and that someone from the Lea or Torres family will contact you soon.

MM:
I’ve been doing genealogy research on the family for several years now. I like to know the where for and what if about things. And I enjoy putting puzzles together. This is like one giant puzzle to me. I want to know things like, Fanny had a middle name and the initial was “P” but I don’t have a clue what the “P” stood for. For Martha there was “A,” but I don’t know what the “A” was for.
I would love to contact someone who was related to Frank Torres.

Email Millie Muller: classy_46@hotmail.com

As told to me by Bruce Pine.

In an earlier incarnation, the Moss Beach Distillery was known as the Galway Bay Inn. Very Irish. Napkins with four leaf clovers. Pleasant Sunday brunches.

And the link to Ireland via the Galway Bay Inn was kind of a throwback for Moss Beach–in the 1890s the Coastside resort, popular for its marine curiosities, became home to the John Kyne family, who were Irish to their core.

But when the Moss Beach Distillery was originally built in the late 1920s, it was named after Frank, the Peruvian owner– and the comings and goings at the roadhouse during Prohibition earned the place fame and notoriety. There were sightings of silent film stars, of San Francisco politicians, too.

In the 1970s three businessmen, Paul, Sam and Dave purchased the Galway Bay Inn, with its Irish theme, with plans of returning the restaurant to its Prohibition theme. Dave even tracked down the stained glass windows that had never been picked up from the artist who custom- made them for Frank’s classic bar.

As a final touch, the trio placed a vintage “still” outside the restaurant but according to my sources, the authorities called it illegal and made them move it elsewhere.

In the 1970s–when there wasn’t much construction on the isolated Coastside– the Distillery was a comfortable place to dine and enjoy drinks at the bar. The owners recognized the importance of being on the premises–especially Dave, who often bartended, and knew the names of all the locals.

I think it was Sam who had family in Marin County and inherited a 1936 Pierce Arrow, the very epitome of the “gangster car.” The Pierce Arrow was very cool but it didn’t run ; it needed work and had to be towed down to Half Moon Bay– and eventually to Bruce Pine’s place known as the “Windmill House” on Potter Street. Bruce possessed the skills and talent to get the vintage automobile running.

Sam had a plan for the Pierce Arrow’s future home–when it was all fixed up, he wanted to park the antique in front of the restaurant.

It was going to take a while to get the car in good shape. Meanwhile Sam told Bruce that whenever he was taking the Pierce Arrow out for a “test drive, ” he should tool on up to the Distillery. That happened a few times. Bruce would call Sam at the Distillery and tell him he was taking the 1936 Pierce Arrow out for a test drive to Moss Beach.

As soon as Sam knew the car was coming, he had to make sure that the space was clear in front of the Distillery, that no one else had parked their car there–the spot in front of the Distillery was considered a prestige parking space, announcing to all of Moss Beach who was inside.

Meanwhile the photographer Jerry Koontz had been renting a room at Bruce Pine’s “Windmill House” in Half Moon Bay. It was the 1970s; the old order was breaking down. Playgirl Magazine had been founded in 1973 and a local publishing company (consisting of several women, more on that later) decided to shoot male nudes for a calendar and a deck of playing cards. At the time shooting male nudes for a calendar was a big shock and the company had a hit on their hands. Jerry Koontz, sans clothing, appeared on one of the playing cards.

Jerry’s experience had been heady, the brush with fame; he was feeling bold and ready for an adventure when he and his girlfriend jumped into the back seat of the 1936 Pierce Arrow that Bruce was driving to the Distillery.

Truth be told, there was mischief in Jerry’s eyes.

As usual Sam cleared the space in front of the Distillery and Bruce parked the gangster car there.

Suddenly, without warning, Jerry and his girlfriend shed their clothes, jumped out of the car and, stark naked, the two of them streaked through the dining room, startling everyone; they made a quick dash through the crowded bar as heads turned to watch them run out the front door, and into the 1936 Pierce Arrow for a quick getaway with Bruce Pine at the wheel.

“Those were fun times,” Jerry Koontz told me the other day. Indeed.

(Image: Jerry Koontz)

(photo courtesy Jerry Koontz, jerrysphotos.com)
The Distillery was built about 1927 when Prohibition was in full swing. Frank Torres, a native of Peru [I believe] was the owner and his residence stood steps away. I may have told you before but I did meet with Frank at his home once. He was a friendly man, full of mischief–but what struck me was the painting on the wall–of Frank Torres, wearing suit and tie, with Devil’s Slide behind him. I often wonder where that painting is….the image certainly reflected where the power lay at least on that part of the Coastside.

By 1980 the restaurant’s name had changed from Frank’s to the Galway Bay Inn to the Distillery and one of the owners was David Andrews.

In foreground, Moss Beach Distillery

Cathy Duncan came by to visit. She was thinking of changing her name to Day Keith. She lives in La Honda with “Peaches” who used to play the piano at the Moss Beach Distillery.

“In the spirit of love..May the circle be unbroken…” Here’s an invitation to Cathy Duncan’s wedding (to Frank A.) that took place at the Kings Mountain Firehouse on Sunday, April 20, 1980.

In 1977 I had a small cabinet shop in El Granada, and built a lot of signs and things for Carolyn Wood, a graphic artist. Carolyn was doing the menus, and designing the big sign out on Hwy 1 for what was going to be called “the Distillery” but had been the Galway Bay Inn for years.

This guy Paul had purchased the restaurant and in talking with Carolyn, he found out I had knowledge of an old whiskey still’s location. The old postmaster of the El Granada Post office’s grandfather (as the story was told me) had buried the original still from this restaurant behind a barn somewhere in Half Moon Bay during prohibition. It was supposed to still be there.

Carolyn came by my shop, and introduced me to Paul. Paul let me know–with his southern California attitude showing– that he was going to get this original still buried behind the barn. It truly left me scratching my head wondering why he came by to meet me just to tell me this but whatever! He made it very clear he did not need mine!

In Burlingame was (as far as I know) the first mini storage place on the peninsula named “U Stor It” run by a friend of mine named Mark. This was a warehouse with lots of plywood cubicles and mesh wire composition built the entire area for two stories except for the office, and a driveway from the front to the back. Along this driveway people were allowed to sell things if they had a box there, and this is where the whiskey still sat. $85.00 said the piece of binder paper taped to it.

A couple of weeks later Carolyn Wood called me up and said Paul could not find the whiskey still buried and so was interested in mine. He came over to my shop and started going on (very wired dude) about how he had found a still for $800.00 but it wasn’t in very good shape. I agreed to show him the one I knew about and told him the location. As soon as he left I called Mark, and told him to put a price tag on it for $800.00. Mark did it one better, he brought it into the office, put a sheet under it on a table, wrote a full typed page of its history and placed it neatly to the side of this giant metal tea pot with a straw.

When Paul arrived with Carolyn (I wasn’t far behind in my car) he was elated going on about how much better this one was than the other for $800.00 and in so much better shape!

$800.00 was a whole lot of money to us back in 1977 so you will never know how gleeful we were when Paul said he wanted it!

He started dealing out the hundred dollar bills, put the still in the car, drove away happy while Mark and I deducted the $85.00 we owed the original owner and split the rest……….. I always feel I can afford to eat at the Moss Beach Distillery!

I guess Paul took the whiskey still with him when he moved away but this is truly how the Distillery got its still!

You can see it in the Pacific Ocean west of the Moss Beach Distillery–you can see it from the tidepools and the dreamy Cypress forest.

What is it?

It’s a concrete wall that dates back to WWII when it was erected to warn commercial fishermen and aircraft of the target practice range in the vicinity.

It’s west of the Moss Beach Distillery: