According to one annoyed resident, I shouldn’t tell you about this place.
But I will.
Although the name “Park Court Subdivision” conjures images of judges and overdue traffic tickets, it’s really the name of a small loop of bungalows in Santa Clara. What makes this place special is that the 60 or so houses here were built during the 1920s and 30s and it is the only intact subdivision in the city dating from this period.
Hard to find
Perhaps what kept Park Court original is that would-be redevelopers couldn’t find it to turn into a mobile home park. My trusty GPS, which fortunately showed Park Court, unfortunately also showed non-existent streets by which to get there. I think access to the court was designed like the royal chamber of an Egyptian pyramid, filled with false paths to fool intruders.
But once you get there, you’re presented with a colorful mix of Colonial Revival, Cape Cod, and Craftsman style bungalow architecture, all popular in our area early in the 20th Century.
Here’s how to tell them apart
Colonial Revival houses tend to have columns on the porch, fanlights (fan-shaped glass) above the front door, and symmetrically placed windows on either side of the entrance, often in pairs or trios.
Cap Cod houses typically don’t have porches, and if they do, they’re often located on the side of the house. Windows have shutters, usually painted white or to match the front door. A steep roof with little overhang (to keep off that New England snow we never get here) is also a giveaway.
Craftsman Style houses are noticeable for the opposite kind of roof—they’re low-pitched. They also tend to have deeply overhanging eaves. The roof itself typically extends over the front porch. You might find square, tapered columns supporting the roof, compared to the cylindrical columns of the Colonial Revival neighbors.
The neighborly thing to do
Speaking of neighbors I spoke to two. The first was a kindly lady who told me that she and her husband bought their house back in the early 1950s for $10,500. For her it’s been a lovely and quiet neighborhood the entire time.
A couple of houses away I found a woman steadily watching me from her front door. Noticing her concerned look I said, “Hello,” to which she replied, “What are you doing here?”
An offer of my business card with the explanation that I was writing an article on this historical neighborhood only frightened her back into her house, from which she retorted, “You shouldn’t be doing that. It’s a bad economy and you know what people will do when they find out about us.”
“But it’s a beautiful and historic neighborhood, it’s even in the tour book.”
“I know that,” she said. “But it’s a bad economy.”
My puzzled look finally got her to expand her line of reasoning.
“People will come here. And they’ll take our things away.”
“Oh, yes ma’am.”
And she retreated into the house, into the safety of the unfindable Park Court Subdivision.
If you do decide to go there, please don’t take anything, OK?
If you go
