For 65 years, Beach Terrace has been part of the moments our guests remember most. To celebrate, we asked you to share your Beach Terrace stories. Jim's story is next.
Jim's Beach Terrace Story
It was 1961. I was 16-years old, and my family was once again escaping the brutal Phoenix summer heat with our annual vacation to Carlsbad.
In previous years, we had stayed at Ocean Manor, a motel on Ocean Street, or rented one of the many apartments which tumbled down the bluffs to the beach. We treasured these vacations — the scent of sea and kelp, and leisurely walks into “town” to browse the latest beach fashions and souvenir shops across from the Twin Inns, with its iconic giant roosters which welcomed visitors to Carlsbad’s unique community.
That summer, however, my parents opted to try a new place which had recently opened along the bluff, the Beach Terrace.
It was the perfect setting for an Arizona boy to experience, for a brief moment, a small piece of the idyllic Southern California summer. As teens, we were in our element. The Beach Boys and Jan and Dean provided both the soundtrack and the screenplay, making us feel like we too were surfer dudes. The girls wore bikinis and fancied themselves as “Gidget,” while we worked to impress them by trying our inexperienced hands at surfing while “real” SoCal surfers laughed and encouraged us.
Our parents let us roam after dark. Carlsbad was safe, the evenings pleasant, the stars abundant. We built bonfires on the beach, and boys and girls from Arizona mingled with California locals, doing what teenagers do on carefree summer nights. Friends from Camp Pacific, also from Phoenix and Tucson, joined the fun. One of them, who would later become my law school classmate — stole my would-be (but never was) girlfriend with his movie-star good looks and irresistible charm. We formed friendships that endure to this day.
That same summer, I met another girl from Phoenix, and we dated throughout the next year back home. She made Beach Boys’ lyrics become my teenage reality. But when we returned to Beach Terrace in the summer of ‘62, young love gave way to teenage heartbreak. She ended our relationship where it had begun, at a place we called “The Point,” a vacant lot at the North end of Ocean Street, where the bluff gave way to the beach and the slough. Like most teenagers, I recovered — and learned a few valuable lessons along the way.
It would not be an exaggeration to say that Beach Terrace was the best supporting actor in one teenager’s coming-of-age story!
In 1963, I left for college, and summer jobs kept me from joining my parents on their annual trips to Carlsbad. But in 1967, after graduating from Stanford, I briefly returned to Beach Terrace , while my parents were spending another two weeks. Their apartment sat right at beach level, and those few days provided the perfect opportunity to relax. Relatives from La Jolla joined the fun. After a couple of blissful days in Carlsbad, I left for Washington, DC, to begin an internship with Senator Carl Hayden of Arizona.
Many years later, I returned with my wife Melinda. Over the years I had often told her my stories of those carefree years, and of of Beach Terrace’s contribution to those memories. I was amazed by how the property had grown. What had once been a modest motel-apartment complex now cascaded toward the sea, with multiple levels of accommodations, a pool, and poolside rooms in a newer adjoining section.
But Beach Terrace had not lost its ’60’s vibe, even though its surrounding bluffs had vanished, replaced by new hillside development. For me, however, I saw it only through the eyes of my teenage self, and it retained the magic which had stayed with me for nearly half a century.
Time has been kind to this small but visionary vacation retreat. For one Arizona kid growing up in the 1960’s, Beach Terrace became far more than a place to stay. For a few weeks each summer, it was where I lived the Southern California Dream.
Thanks to my parents’ decision to try a new motel in 1961, Beach Terrace became the backdrop for memories that have lasted a lifetime.