Signs of Beauty
Note: This is a story I came up with simply after noticing all the city "greeting" signs in Eastern Contra Costa County. I thought it would be really interesting to do an overview of this, which I hadn't seen done before. So ...
By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Newspapers
March 24, 2002
The roadside sign, splintered and weathered, is a relic of a simpler, slower era in East County -- "Welcome to Antioch, Gateway to the Delta."
But Antioch is no longer a passage to more interesting places. It's a destination for scores of new homeowners priced out of other Bay Area markets.
And in a city growing quickly and trying to shed its rural image, the greeting sign off Highway 4 is no longer embraced as a symbol of civic pride.
"Frankly," said City Attorney Bill Galstan, "I think it's a little tacky."
City slogans and welcome signs, which first popped up along railroad tracks and roads a century ago, are enduring hallmarks of small-town America.
But as many towns evolve into cities, these self-marketing tools are being regarded as either hokey jingles of yesteryear or important messages that help capture a community's charm.
"It was a real rivalry, in the old days, to have a sign up," said Bernard C. Winn, a retired farmer who wrote a book, "Arch Rivals," about welcome signs.
"It was a real status symbol to identify a town," added the 81-year-old San Francisco resident. "Today, it's kind of nostalgic."
Indeed, city signs with personalized messages, or "tag lines," are increasingly difficult to find, especially in the Bay Area. In East County, however, long known for its agricultural heritage, quirky city slogans remain.
Brentwood calls itself "In the Land of Plenty," which, today, could easily refer to its vast assortment of subdivisions. Knightsen, a farming community on the county's eastern edge, proclaims that it's "Still God's Country."
For motorists heading east on Highway 4 and into Oakley, a green-and-white sign introduces people to "A Place for Families in the Heart of the Delta." The sign sits in front of a long lineup of scrap metal dealers.
Oakley, a growing suburb of 26,000, incorporated in 1999 and immediately began grappling with its identity.
The city hired Julie Patterson of San Francisco to design the Oakley emblem -- a scarlet oak leaf, it turns out -- and develop a slogan.
Patterson spent a summer day touring the area, soaking in the subdivisions and the sun-splashed fields.
Later, in her office, something struck her. "I kept saying that it was such a great place for families," she said, referring to the city's emphasis on affordable housing. "Then I said, 'It's such a great place for families, right here in the heart of the Delta.'"
Bingo. Carolyn Hays, president of the Oakley chamber of commerce, thinks the slogan will stay -- for a while, at least. "I like it," she said. "I'm not sure if it sells the city or not, but it's warm-hearted."
In Antioch, city officials are not getting warm and fuzzy feelings over the "Gateway to the Delta" sign, which sits alone in a green field off Highway 4, west of Somersville Road.
Give Mayor Don Freitas a sharp hatchet and he may even use it.
"It's the worst sign the city can have," he said. "It smacks of the 1930s or 1940s. It's very rural in nature. We need to develop something that residents can be proud of."
Freitas envisions a more technologically-advanced version that could advertise the city's chief asset: its proximity to the San Joaquin River.
In fact, he said, the city's entire sign inventory should be reviewed again, possibly leading to street-name changes that better reflect the fast-growing community.
Of course, no one said city greeting signs would come without controversy and heartache.
They reflect a place that affects and identifies everyone, often leading to passionate protests or civic activism.
The liberal-minded coastal city of Santa Cruz recently had a shark-size spat over a new "landmark" River City sign. On Sept. 12, 2001, a 15-by-30-foot, yellow-and-blue sign made its debut near Highway 1, which led drivers toward downtown Santa Cruz, where merchants have struggled for years.
But as soon as the $83,000 behemoth popped up, folks howled in protest. Arguing that it was large and ugly, the city arts commission voted 6-1 in January to tear it down, which would add $15,000 to $20,000 to the tab.
Recently, Santa Cruz' City Council voted to explore how to dismantle the sign and whether anyone else would be interested in buying it.
"I think it spent a few days on eBay," said Tasha Loveness, a Santa Cruz arts administrator, "but the top bid was only $3,500."
In American Canyon, meanwhile, residents there can't wait to showcase their new greeting sign.
The chamber of commerce of the close-knit Napa County town cobbled together $10,000 to create its own unique community placard.
Plans were made to put the 10-by-12-foot sign reading "American Canyon, Gateway to the Napa Valley Wine Country," on Highway 29, where thousands of wine-minded motorists drive by every weekend.
But Caltrans rejected the sign as being too large. So organizers reversed course and tried to persuade several local property owners to display the sign near the highway; everyone passed.
"It's kind of like a welcome sign that's not very welcome," said Dale Osmond, the chamber's chief executive officer.
Now, the sign sits in the rear yard of the Vallejo business that created it, gathering dust until a temporary or permanent home is found.
Pittsburg, too, is trying to use signs and slogans to advertise its blue-collar charms.
About seven months ago, a colorful, 10-by-32-foot mural filled a billboard off Highway 4, near Railroad Avenue, that read, "Developing Power for the Future."
City leaders are trying to tout Pittsburg's fledgling power plant industry.
Local artist Francis Pallermo designed the primary sign, which shows a diverse group of people clinging hands, but also includes a few buildings and the "power" message.
Pallermo, 54, also created several other images that could be interchanged to promote city functions such as the Seafood Festival.
"I had to make some compromises," he said of the primary sign. "I wouldn't have thrown the buildings in there. I would have stuck with the people, which makes it more dynamic.
"But," he added, "they paid for it. And it's probably being seen by more people than any artwork I've ever done."
By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Newspapers
March 24, 2002
The roadside sign, splintered and weathered, is a relic of a simpler, slower era in East County -- "Welcome to Antioch, Gateway to the Delta."
But Antioch is no longer a passage to more interesting places. It's a destination for scores of new homeowners priced out of other Bay Area markets.
And in a city growing quickly and trying to shed its rural image, the greeting sign off Highway 4 is no longer embraced as a symbol of civic pride.
"Frankly," said City Attorney Bill Galstan, "I think it's a little tacky."
City slogans and welcome signs, which first popped up along railroad tracks and roads a century ago, are enduring hallmarks of small-town America.
But as many towns evolve into cities, these self-marketing tools are being regarded as either hokey jingles of yesteryear or important messages that help capture a community's charm.
"It was a real rivalry, in the old days, to have a sign up," said Bernard C. Winn, a retired farmer who wrote a book, "Arch Rivals," about welcome signs.
"It was a real status symbol to identify a town," added the 81-year-old San Francisco resident. "Today, it's kind of nostalgic."
Indeed, city signs with personalized messages, or "tag lines," are increasingly difficult to find, especially in the Bay Area. In East County, however, long known for its agricultural heritage, quirky city slogans remain.
Brentwood calls itself "In the Land of Plenty," which, today, could easily refer to its vast assortment of subdivisions. Knightsen, a farming community on the county's eastern edge, proclaims that it's "Still God's Country."
For motorists heading east on Highway 4 and into Oakley, a green-and-white sign introduces people to "A Place for Families in the Heart of the Delta." The sign sits in front of a long lineup of scrap metal dealers.
Oakley, a growing suburb of 26,000, incorporated in 1999 and immediately began grappling with its identity.
The city hired Julie Patterson of San Francisco to design the Oakley emblem -- a scarlet oak leaf, it turns out -- and develop a slogan.
Patterson spent a summer day touring the area, soaking in the subdivisions and the sun-splashed fields.
Later, in her office, something struck her. "I kept saying that it was such a great place for families," she said, referring to the city's emphasis on affordable housing. "Then I said, 'It's such a great place for families, right here in the heart of the Delta.'"
Bingo. Carolyn Hays, president of the Oakley chamber of commerce, thinks the slogan will stay -- for a while, at least. "I like it," she said. "I'm not sure if it sells the city or not, but it's warm-hearted."
In Antioch, city officials are not getting warm and fuzzy feelings over the "Gateway to the Delta" sign, which sits alone in a green field off Highway 4, west of Somersville Road.
Give Mayor Don Freitas a sharp hatchet and he may even use it.
"It's the worst sign the city can have," he said. "It smacks of the 1930s or 1940s. It's very rural in nature. We need to develop something that residents can be proud of."
Freitas envisions a more technologically-advanced version that could advertise the city's chief asset: its proximity to the San Joaquin River.
In fact, he said, the city's entire sign inventory should be reviewed again, possibly leading to street-name changes that better reflect the fast-growing community.
Of course, no one said city greeting signs would come without controversy and heartache.
They reflect a place that affects and identifies everyone, often leading to passionate protests or civic activism.
The liberal-minded coastal city of Santa Cruz recently had a shark-size spat over a new "landmark" River City sign. On Sept. 12, 2001, a 15-by-30-foot, yellow-and-blue sign made its debut near Highway 1, which led drivers toward downtown Santa Cruz, where merchants have struggled for years.
But as soon as the $83,000 behemoth popped up, folks howled in protest. Arguing that it was large and ugly, the city arts commission voted 6-1 in January to tear it down, which would add $15,000 to $20,000 to the tab.
Recently, Santa Cruz' City Council voted to explore how to dismantle the sign and whether anyone else would be interested in buying it.
"I think it spent a few days on eBay," said Tasha Loveness, a Santa Cruz arts administrator, "but the top bid was only $3,500."
In American Canyon, meanwhile, residents there can't wait to showcase their new greeting sign.
The chamber of commerce of the close-knit Napa County town cobbled together $10,000 to create its own unique community placard.
Plans were made to put the 10-by-12-foot sign reading "American Canyon, Gateway to the Napa Valley Wine Country," on Highway 29, where thousands of wine-minded motorists drive by every weekend.
But Caltrans rejected the sign as being too large. So organizers reversed course and tried to persuade several local property owners to display the sign near the highway; everyone passed.
"It's kind of like a welcome sign that's not very welcome," said Dale Osmond, the chamber's chief executive officer.
Now, the sign sits in the rear yard of the Vallejo business that created it, gathering dust until a temporary or permanent home is found.
Pittsburg, too, is trying to use signs and slogans to advertise its blue-collar charms.
About seven months ago, a colorful, 10-by-32-foot mural filled a billboard off Highway 4, near Railroad Avenue, that read, "Developing Power for the Future."
City leaders are trying to tout Pittsburg's fledgling power plant industry.
Local artist Francis Pallermo designed the primary sign, which shows a diverse group of people clinging hands, but also includes a few buildings and the "power" message.
Pallermo, 54, also created several other images that could be interchanged to promote city functions such as the Seafood Festival.
"I had to make some compromises," he said of the primary sign. "I wouldn't have thrown the buildings in there. I would have stuck with the people, which makes it more dynamic.
"But," he added, "they paid for it. And it's probably being seen by more people than any artwork I've ever done."
posted by Corey at 6:06 PM
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