Coronado Residents, please join me if you believe, as I do, that the Ocean Boulevard strip, including the street, the sidewalk, the rocks, the dunes, the beach, and the waves, are sacred to the history and ambience of our town. Just as they are.

No changes. No widening the sidewalk 24 inches. No moving light fixtures and trash bins. No narrowing the street 2 feet. No altering the rocks. No spending a huge amount of public funds to deface island tradition.

Contact the City Council online: Public Comment page, on the city’s website.

Taking space out of the street to the detriment of cars and bikes is the worst possible idea. Drive along there on a busy weekend afternoon. Traffic is tight enough as is.

There is one area which might be used for added parking that would keep some beach visitor cars out of the nearby residential streets: The extra wide-open space down the center of Isabella from Flora to Ocean Boulevard. The existing center strip of diagonal parking with meters on Isabella from Flora to Orange appears to work well. Wouldn’t cost must to extend that, also with meters.

Those rocks were hauled in after a big storm brought sea water flooding as far inland as Orange Avenue, something over a hundred years ago. All during my childhood, in the 1930s, high tides regularly bashed against the rocks and splashed over onto Ocean Boulevard. North Beach (now Dog Beach) was the only sand that stayed open continuously. That is where our young mothers sat in circles chatting and tanning while we dug water holes to build drip castles. We rode horseback around the island, on the beach side of the rocks at low tide, otherwise single file down the street to the hotel.

Filling in the Spanish Bite with dredging from inside the big bay during World War II changed the beach configuration, adding the huge band of sand there now. Why, and how, I’ve never quite understood. But there it is, and apparently Central Beach for the time being just gets wider. The climate change folks say rising sea levels could and probably will reverse that. Disturbing, lowering, or changing the rocks in any way is beyond ill advised.

Back in the day, when it was safe for children to have free run of the island, we would often bike or skate over to play on the rocks. As a fifth grader, faced with Navy orders taking us to Pensacola, I left a metal lock box hidden in some secret forgotten space inside the rocks, filled with treasures I planned to find again when future orders might bring our family back. That happened in time for eighth grade, 1939. I searched and searched. Nope. Never found my treasure box. One more reason I don’t want those rocks disturbed.

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