By Ross Eric Gibson

New Year’s Eve traditions have been long popular in Santa Cruz, from dancing and feasting, toasting the new year with a drink, a kiss for good luck, and making a racket to ward off evil spirits and bad luck. The Town Clock now stands at Clock Tower Plaza, which has become a focus for our New Year’s traditions. But when the Town Clock was at a different location, it seemed to have had a life of its own on the eve of the Great Depression.

Andy Balich wanted the most beautiful hotel in Santa Cruz, back when beauty was an important part of architecture. Groundbreaking for the Palomar Hotel was Dec. 6, 1928, then nine months later, on Sept. 7, 1929, the Palomar Hotel opened to the public. The elegant Spanish art deco masterpiece was designed by Watsonville architect William Weeks, a seven-story building that the Santa Cruz News called “Santa Cruz’s first skyscraper.” The hotel became a hive of events, with a new program every Saturday. Yet visitors who spent the night complained that the Town Clock on the neighboring Odd Fellows Building, tolled round the clock. The Odd Fellows club agreed to let the tolling mechanism run down so it would still tell the time but made it impossible to sound the hour.

The Palomar hosted a New Year’s dinner-dance for 300 in its mezzanine ballroom, to a popular jazz band. When midnight came, 1930 was ushered-in with squeaky horns, the clack of spinning noise makers and shouts of “Happy New Year!” Then people heard an odd sound over the din. To the disbelief of many, the dead bell in the town clock tower began to toll, which was bizarre enough in itself, but it tolled 13 times. The question in the local papers was “Who Rang the Bell?” When a woman repeated this question to her friend, her 4-year-old daughter chimed in, “I know, mommy! An angel rang that bell!” “Why do you think that?,” the mother asked.

And with a sense of the obvious, the little girl replied, “Well, only an angel could reach so high!” My aunt Gloria Kaas recalled this story. And in fact, an angel did make sense. For after the hotel opened in September, the stock market crashed the economy on Oct. 29, 1929, plunging America into the Great Depression. It would take an angel’s intervention to keep the hotel afloat. In 1933, the $360,000 hotel was sold at auction from the steps of the courthouse for $90,000 to its bondholders. Four months later the leaseholder closed the hotel to sell off its fixtures, but Balich stopped him and became the new 10-year lease holder, eventually becoming the sole owner of his hotel in 1941. Thanks to Balich, his dream survived a rocky start.

Over the years, Santa Cruz held special New Year’s Eve parties in its finest buildings. In 1861-62, from the rooftop of the Otto-Trust Brick Building on Front Street, came music from a modern all-saxophone band. This included alto, tenor, baritone and bass saxophone, but also a deep contrabass, and the higher soprano and sopranino saxes without a bent bell. People were used to brass bands but not to reed instruments with a loud voice.

The Germania was a German-language hotel, first on Front Street, then in a new building called the Santa Cruz Hotel. It featured brass oom-pah bands and beer served from barrels. The Arian Singing Society on the other hand, brought the German classics to life at Arian Hall on Front Street above Soquel Avenue. These became features of German New Year celebrations. The Vienna Beer Gardens was a family friendly venue at the corner of Ocean Street and Soquel Avenue. It had an open-air dancing pavilion, playground equipment in a park setting beside Branciforte Creek, and beer with picnic-style lunches.

Our first true luxury hotel was the 1866 Pacific Ocean House at the corner of Pacific Avenue and Plaza Lane. It hosted a ball for 150 of the most respectable people in high fashion finery, dancing to a ballroom orchestra. Meanwhile the castle-like Armory building at Front and Soquel Avenue, was known for years for its New Year’s Masquerade Ball, where one didn’t unmask until midnight. In the 1890s, the Sea Beach Hotel on Beach Hill hosted grand balls to popular dance bands, and the new St. George Hotel hosted a dinner dance in its dining room. The Boardwalk Casino became the largest ballroom and banquet hall in town for New Year’s parties. Fraternal organizations held their own dinner dances for members in their club rooms.

Watch Night

Watch Night parties were at homes or in social halls. Historian Ernest Otto recalled from his 1870s childhood, that the parties included popping corn, pulling taffy and playing card games or board games. The Christmas tree would be cut into small branches because for safety reasons, you wouldn’t want a piece sticking out of the fireplace. One by one, people were solicited to toss a branch into the fire to represent something they didn’t want to bring into the new year. They could announce what it was or say it was private. The purpose was to keep the fire burning from sunset to midnight.

Some played a memorization game where people sat in a circle and said “I went to Grandmother’s house and gave her …” and would mention a gift, either practical or fantastical. The next person repeated the line, a new gift and the previous one. Each person had to remember all the previous gifts and was eliminated for forgetting a gift or its order, until there was only one person left who remembered all the gifts. The song “The 12 Days of Christmas” is suspected to have started as a memorization song, once including random absurd gifts invented on the spot to defy memorization.

At midnight, all the doors were opened to usher the old year out and the new year in. Everyone went on their porches and sounded horns and cow bells to drive away misfortune. In the distance one could hear the revelry from many different quarters. Factory whistles blared from the town’s three tanneries and mills near Cathcart, plus the depot and Beach Hill. A great clanging came from the 12 churches clustered around Churchside (the junction of Lincoln and Center streets).

Some churches held special New Year’s services. Then they would toll their bells, which sometimes took 15 or 20 minutes, as the kids lined up to get their turn ringing the big bell. Up on Mission Hill were heard the bells of Temperance Hall, Holy Cross School, Mission Hill Public School, the Leslie Building firebell, the Catholic boy’s school and Holy Cross Church. Many had a church banquet or potluck after midnight.

If you didn’t want to get dressed up to celebrate, you went to the local saloons. Downtown Santa Cruz had its “Famous 55” saloons in a three-block area. These were a sign of prosperity, not for their quality (some were dives, others were gentlemen’s clubs). But the success of the lumber, leather, lime and gunpowder industries meant more workingmen employed, coming to town on weekends to spend their paychecks on provisions, whiskey, gambling and women. Temperance Hall on Mission Hill Grade provided non-alcoholic, family friendly New Year’s entertainment. Soquel had the first Temperance Society in California, founded in 1848, and Santa Cruz developed nearly 10 clubs by the time Temperance Hall was constructed in 1861.

Scottish New Year

Some of the San Lorenzo Valley’s large Scottish population celebrated “Hogmanay.” When the Scotch Presbyterians banned Christmas in Scotland in the 1600s, the Scotts simply moved their Christmas traditions to New Year’s Eve, some of which became American New Year’s traditions.

Below Ben Lomond was a 300-acre resort called “Rowardennan” (“Enchanted Forest”). It was one of the last to keep the area’s “Hogmanay” celebration, reminiscent of the Christmas Bracebridge Dinner held at Yosemite’s Ahwahnee Lodge. Rowardennan’s rustic ballroom had the look of a Highland’s hunting lodge, with deer and elk heads watching from the walls, and evergreen bunting. A large riverstone fireplace dominated one wall.

A boy on a Yule log was ceremoniously carried in to bagpipe music. While drinking a toast, a cup of spirits was poured on the log, which was lit with a piece of the previous year’s log. This fire was not allowed to go out before the new year.

The evening began with a banquet. Desert was “New Year’s cakes”: scones (oat cakes), nut and caraway shortbread and black buns. After dinner was a concert of Highland songs and dances, followed by a square dance. The first guest of the new year was a bachelor called the “First Footer,” who arrived at midnight. He brought “wisemen gifts” of a coin, bread and a log, symbolizing prosperity, food and warmth. Some combined these gifts into a log shaped cake with a coin hidden in it.

Toasting was usually reserved for Champagne, wine, or brandy. The term “toasting” came from Wassail, an ale-and-sherry punch with cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger, plus pieces of toast floating in the bowl to keep the spice sediments down. It was a popular drink for Christmas, New Year’s and Epiphany (12th Night). Stephen and Luigi Martinelli started a Watsonville soda water business in 1861 and in 1865 created non-alcoholic Orange Champagne. Their Martinelli’s Sparkling Cider has become the universal non-alcoholic holiday drink.

Whodunit?

The longtime mystery of the angel who rang the clock tower bell in 1930 wasn’t solved until about 1970. Whitney Hardware store was in the Odd Fellows Building in 1929, and Rolla, the owner’s son, persuaded the elderly night watchman Thompson to leave the trap door to the tower unlocked on New Year’s Eve. Rolla and Barbara Clay made their way into the belfry and triggered the hammer mechanism by hand which rang the bell, although they lost count and the bell struck 13. So the angels were a couple of kids driving off misfortune with their own clocktower noisemaker, as an excuse to steal a New Year’s kiss.