
A Brief History of Thomas Aquinas College
Part II - Relocation and Transition
[Following is Part II in a three-part series on the history
of Thomas Aquinas College.]
For seven years, the College operated and educated students
at Claretville. But the College needed a permanent campus
of its own, and its founders were hoping to purchase Claretville
or to establish a campus on their own grounds elsewhere. Unable
to reach a purchase agreement with the Claretians, the College
was forced to consider other options. Indeed, at one point,
College founders even traveled to Prescott, Arizona to see
a possible site.
Sometime in 1975, the College's real estate agent,
Larry Battliner, alerted College officials to a property located
in a remote rural setting outside the town of Santa Paula
on what was known as the Ferndale Ranch. The seller's
agent was William P. Clark, Sr., whose son by the same name
was then a Justice on the California Supreme Court. Clark,
Sr. was delighted to help negotiate a sale. (Clark, Jr., who
later served as President Reagan's National Security
Advisor and Secretary of the Interior, eventually became -
and is to this day - a major benefactor of the College.)
College founders toured the property and saw its great potential
for a college campus. The property included a large plain
and an adjacent lower area on which was situated a 9,000 square
foot mission-style Hacienda. The house was built as a summer
home for the Doheny Family of Los Angeles by architect Wallace
Neff in 1929. It was surrounded by 35 acres of beautifully
landscaped grounds with three large reflecting pools. The
parcel was situated in a canyon six miles north of the sleepy
farming town of Santa Paula amidst the steep mountains of
the Los Padres National Forest, a two million acre expanse
of rugged wilderness terrain. The founders thought its beautiful
and secluded location would make an ideal setting for the
Catholic community of learning they were nurturing.
But the purchase price of the property - in excess of
$2 million - was more than the fledgling College could
afford. There were also questions relating to the possible
impact of oil and gas rights. Moreover, the owner, Paul Grafe,
while sympathetic to the College's mission, wanted
to explore all other market options.
One day after a few months of negotiations, Lt. Col. William
Lawton, Jr., a founder of the College and then vice president
for development, traveled with his wife, Peggy, to the ranch
to talk with Grafe. Lawton entreated Grafe to work out a deal,
but Grafe told him, "You'll have to dig deep,
Sonny." The Lawtons returned home dejected.
Larry Barker: A Gift From God
The next day, Grafe called Lawton looking for McArthur. Grafe
wanted McArthur to call a fellow in San Francisco, Larry Barker.
Grafe said Barker might be in a position to "help them
out." McArthur, who happened to be in San Francisco
at founding Board member John Schaeffer's law office,
called Barker, whose office was only a few blocks away. Barker
agreed to meet with McArthur immediately. McArthur told Barker
about the College's predicament and Barker offered
to give $100,000 to the cause. McArthur demurred; he wanted
the property. He asked Barker to meet with him and Schaeffer
for lunch the following day. Barker agreed. At the end of
the lunch, Barker said he had heard enough. He was going to
buy the property from Grafe and give it to the College. Needless
to say, the news seemed miraculous. Barker was a God-send.
College officials then investigated the property and its
suitability for use as a campus. They engaged the architectural/engineering
firm of Albert C. Martin & Associates to prepare a preliminary
feasibility study to determine whether and to what extent
a campus could be built, from scratch, on 131 acres situated
on the Ferndale Ranch. (Ed Martin, a principal in the firm,
was a fervent supporter of the College and one of its early
Board members.) Many questions had to be resolved.
For instance, Barker offered to give the property to the
College, but would retain rights to exploit the reservoir
of oil beneath the surface. How, and to what extent, would
the oil be extracted? How would water, sewers, and electrical
power be provided to the property? What permits needed to
be secured? What limitations would the County impose on construction?
Who had rights of access to the College property - oil
trucks, ranch workers, harvesters? Where would the hiking
trail to the national forest traverse, through or around the
campus?
When answers to these and other questions were resolved,
a deal was struck. College officials then began making plans
to build the campus there and raise the funds to do it -
something they anticipated would occur over a number of years
while the College remained at Claretville.
Sudden Eviction
But in October, 1977, plans were accelerated. The Claretians
informed the College that the Claretville property had been
sold. The College would have to move, and sooner than anyone
had expected - by June, at the end of the academic year.
Moreover, the details of the sale were unsettling. The new
owner, through an option buyer unknown to the Claretians,
was the Church Universal and Triumphant, a syncretist "New
Age" group headed by the "Ascended Master and
Messenger and Vicar of Christ," Elizabeth Clare Prophet.
The beautiful old Catholic chapel on campus would have to
be decommissioned.
Accordingly, in less than 10 months, the College would have
to figure out how to move the campus an hour's drive
away to undeveloped land and add enough buildings, temporary
or permanent, to house, educate, and feed more than 100 students.
With time of the essence, the architects at Albert C. Martin
worked on a crash basis to prepare drawings for a multi-purpose
dining commons and four dormitories, as well as plans for
the basic infrastructure - roads, paths, water, sewage,
and utilities. Architects completed construction drawings
for the commons building and four small dormitories. Construction
permits were sought in haste.
And questions mounted by the day. How soon could construction
on the main commons building commence? Could it be finished
by the fall? How were the students to be housed? How were
they to be fed? Where were classes to be held? Nothing was
clear; all issues were open, all options under consideration.
Sudden Move
Costs to get the campus designed and to secure approvals
from the county exceeded one-half million dollars. Additional
costs for relocation efforts would approach $3 million. Construction
for the 20,000 square-foot Commons building alone was $1.1
million. It would include a cafeteria, a chapel, a library,
some offices, and two rooms that could be used as classrooms.
And then there were funds needed for operating expenses and
student financial aid.
Enough funds were raised at first to go forward with the
plans, including a $500,000 gift from Henry Salvatori and
a $100,000 gift from the Dan Murphy Foundation. The bulk of
the remainder of the expenses was covered by bank loans and
financing arrangements. Such debt burden would plague the
College for many years. But the College had no other option.
As it was, by 1978, insufficient funds were raised to build
the four dormitories. So while construction would proceed
on the main Commons, provision for temporary living space
would be needed in the short-term.
In January, 1978, ground-breaking ceremonies for the Commons
were held. Then the rains hit. That winter began the longest
rainy season on record, and construction halted until May.
The Commons plainly would not be ready by the fall. Modular
buildings were obtained to handle dormitory needs. Now additional
units would be necessary to handle classroom, chapel, and
food service.
When school ended in June, the College moved the furniture,
equipment, books, and records into storage containers held
in a barn on the Ferndale Ranch. The Doheny Hacienda served
as the school's administrative offices. (Eventually,
it would become the residence of President McArthur and his
wife, Marilyn.)
Kitchen needs presented special problems. Converting a modular
unit into a kitchen facility was cost-prohibitive. Instead,
a "corn-dog stand," the kind used at county
fairs, was rented for that purpose.
A Not-So-Grand Opening
Work proceeded at a frantic pace throughout the summer, but
by September, when school was to open, the modular dormitories
had not arrived. Students were called and advised that the
opening would be delayed. Indeed, two more extension dates
were given. Finally, on the last day of October, Halloween,
school opened. But not without a few scares.
On the Friday before the Monday that school was to open,
College attorney Joseph Kern was still negotiating with county
inspectors, aiming to secure temporary permits to open the
premises. A worker drove over a fire hydrant, causing a flood
over much of the campus. On opening day, two of the modular
dormitories were still being put together. Electricity remained
unconnected. Hot water was unavailable. Noisy outdoor generators
supplied power for lights only. Several girls had to live
in the Hacienda until the last of the modular dormitories
was completed two weeks later. School thus opened, classes
resumed, and learning commenced. A mood of good cheer prevailed
in spite of flimsy dorms, cold showers, modular classrooms,
and food prepared in a weenie-wagon.
But then the rains hit. Again. Construction on the Commons
was delayed. Boxes of books stored in wooden shipping crates
were nearly destroyed by rain and mildew. The dirt field on
which the campus was situated turned to thick mud. Plywood
covered paths between dormitories and classrooms. There was
no other place to walk. And for weeks on end it was cold and
gray. Hearty souls were they who endured. One could not blame
the two freshmen who bolted, never to return. What is surprising
is that so many stayed.
A New Spring
By May, the Commons was completed and Most Reverend Thaddeus
Shubsda, Auxiliary Bishop of Los Angeles (and later, Bishop
of Monterey), presided over ceremonies to dedicate the new
building under the patronage of St. Joseph. (The tribute to
St. Joseph was one of thanksgiving; Dr. McArthur had invoked
the saint's intercession for the acquisition of the
property, even burying a St. Joseph medal on the grounds during
one of his early visits.)
By then, too, lawns had been seeded and were green with life.
Walkways were paved. Tennis and basketball courts were added.
Feast days were celebrated. Dances and parties were enjoyed.
And the life of learning continued. None of these hardships
seemed to matter to the 24 seniors who graduated that year.
More than half went on to graduate school. Five of those went
to law school, three at Notre Dame. Nine went into teaching,
two at the college or university level (including one, Dr.
Sean Collins, who has since returned to the College as a tutor).
Two went to nursing school, two into political or Church organizations,
and two to the seminary. (One classmate left early to become
a priest.) And so far, five children of graduates of this
class have become students at the College.
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