Monday, May 28, 2018

A Missing Son, A Lost Soldier

According to the May 28, 1914 edition of the Los Angeles Herald, a missing young man from Anaheim was finally found under sad circumstances. To explain it all, I must start from the beginning.

John Klassen was born to parents P.M. Klassen and Elizabeth Buller Klassen, both residents of Anaheim, but originally native of Germany. From a young age Johnny had dreams and ambitions to join the military, so when he finally became a young man that was all he thought of.

The newspaper doesn't give specifics on why he couldn't enlist prior but only that he was previously "prevented from enlisting because of his youth".  Could it have been his parents who didn't want him to go? For the newspaper stated he was 19 when he left.

No matter what the case, Johnny ran away to fulfill his dream and enlist in the Army, but when he got there he enlisted under a false name, John King.  Not knowing where he went and why, his parents were distraught over the disappearance of their son and searched endlessly, looking for him.

Meanwhile, in San Francisco, Johnny was waiting to be sent to the front lines. At one point he wrote his mother a letter telling her that he was in the Army and that he was okay, but he failed to mention that he was listed under a different name. So when his mother wrote him back, she was notified that there was no one enlisted under her son's name. Shocked and devastated, she started to look for him once more.

Eventually Mrs. Klassen was able to track down her son's whereabouts, but sadly it was too late. Johnny had died in the Army hospital in San Francisco. Apparently, he fell ill while he was waiting to be sent out to the war, never being able to fulfill his lifelong dream of being in the Army.

He was buried at the San Francisco National Cemetery at the Presidio.

Courtesy of Carol (Find-a-grave contributor #46859893)

(Copyright, 2018 - J'aime Rubio, )

Monday, May 21, 2018

Memories of Stan Betz

This will be the first of many new types of posts on this particular blog. I have decided that it was time to give a platform to various residents (and former residents) who lived and breathed Anaheim history between the 1950's and 1960's growing up there. For my first contributor's post, I have chosen to share the memory John Lazenby, an Anaheim High School Alumni (Class of 1965) who recalls his memories of the famous custom car guru, Stan Betz. Enjoy! 

John Lazenby

Moving to Anaheim in 1956 from Santa Ana, like all 9 year old boys, I was fascinated with my new surroundings.  A new school, Horace Mann, new friends, and of course new adventures that would unfold.

I use to love to build model aircraft, especially model cars, on our patio during the summer.  There was a transistor radio that would be out there with me and the stations of choice were KFWB and KRLA. I always had a Bubble-Up or Pepsi Cola at my side.  I knew all of the songs that came across the air waves because of my love for music, and of course all of the DJs.  To this day I still have my KFWB Disc / Coveries Album with the "Seven Swingin’ Gentlemen."

Places I would buy AMT car models were Sav-On Drugs, and then there was Tiny’s Hobby Shop located in the Pickwick Hotel on Los Angeles Street just north of the City Library in Anaheim.  Tiny was just the opposite of his name being a rather rotund gentleman who sat in a chair and didn’t move much. What was really neat is that Tiny had model entries for awards that any kid, or I guess any adult, could participate in.  On a regular basis I would enter one of my efforts and occasionally win something.  A couple of those models are still with me in boxes all these years later.

The challenge was how to get to Tiny’s from my home which was probably a couple of miles away.  I had a bike but the agreement with my parents was that I would not ride that far, as they worried about me in traffic, which is hard to imagine what it was like then versus today.

Well of course, the temptation was too great and I had to get on the bike and make the journey.  I figured out what back streets to take to avoid as much danger as my young brain would muster up.  The final part of that trip would be heading down Chestnut St. towards Los Angeles St. which was the north corner of the Pickwick. What always struck me was a hot rod with louvers parked on the street just west of the bus stop on the back side of the Pickwick.  On occasion there was a fellow with white bib overalls sitting on the curb mixing paint.  He had the stuff all over himself and of course the curb and street.

John Lazenby's '63 VW parked at the curb where Stan Betz mixed his paint.

The more interesting thing about all of this was he had a “peg” leg with a rubber boot or cap on the end sticking out of one of the pant legs.  I would always stop, say hello, and admire the car and ask questions about what he was doing.  This was none other than Stan Betz, who at that time I thought to be an older guy, and I guess he was compared to me.  I never had the courage to ask about the leg but years later learned the story of how he ended up that way.  Also, I never realized then that he was a life long Anaheim resident and AHS grad.

Once my days of visiting Tiny’s ended, on occasion I would bump into Stan and different places and he always remembered me.  I had a friend that owned a sign shop in Orange and Stan was his neighbor so we would go over and look at his movie props.  Over the years he had acquired many of them, and some were historically significant in the movie industry.

Der Kleiner Panzer second clubhouse, located at the Pickwick Hotel. 
My last visit with Stan was at the AHS car show where I had one of my cars.  Stan was getting up there in years, and not quite as mobile, but he still got around and his mind was sharp.  Then in September of 2017, I learned of his passing and was sad, but on the same note was happy that I’d got to know him as a person and appreciate what a talented gentleman and classy act he really was.  Godspeed Stan, many miss you."- John Lazenby. 

NOTE: "The two photos attached are of my '63 VW sedan parked on Chestnut St. in the exact spot Stan would sit and mix paint.  The other photo is also on Chestnut St. at the Der Kleiner Panzer second club house located in the Pickwick Hotel.  That is me with the burgundy cords on at the front door.  Both photos were taken very late 1971 or early 1972."

To read more about Stan Betz and his contribution to Anaheim history please check out this article on the Anaheim High School Alumni Association's website:

(Copyright, Remembering Anaheim's History, J'aime Rubio. 2018).

Memories of Anaheim

Hey everyone! I am going to be doing something new on this blog. I will still continue to post my historical research and stories involving early Anaheim history, but I am also going to be dedicating one section of this blog entirely to memories shared by various people who grew up here, attended high school (be it Anaheim High or Loara High) and/or all those fun times that were had at places such as the Bean Hut, Harmony Park and other locations during the 1950's and 1960's.

Whether it's a childhood memory, or teenage memories from school or summer months. I am happy to announce that I will be sharing those stories with you by way of contributor's posts.

If you would like to share a short story/memory of your days in Anaheim, please contact me via my website I look forward to sharing Anaheim memories with all of you, so that we can preserve these stories for the future generations to look back on and appreciate.

Thanks,  J'aime Rubio

Monday, October 16, 2017

The Mysterious Death of Paul Whitice

Tomorrow is the 102nd anniversary of the death of young bride, Enid Rimpau. Her death left a tragic stain on the historic colony district in Anaheim that is remembered each year at this time. Because of the odd circumstances and strange similarities that both Enid's death and that of another gentleman, Paul Whitice, who died 12 years later, I chose to write this blog tonight.

In Enid's case, she died from poisoning on October 17, 1915, after only three months of marriage to Theodore Robert Rimpau, the grandson of Anaheim Pioneer Theodore Rimpau. Robert, as he chose to be called, was smitten by the young Enid, and courted her until she accepted his proposal of marriage. Enid had just divorced her first husband, Charles Stone, because of his "intemperate habits," and had been working two jobs to support herself on her own. She had moved to Anaheim to start over, and it seemed that everything was working out until that Sunday afternoon, just after church, when her husband claimed he found her dying of poison in her bedroom.

Family members came to the house, as well as Dr. Truxaw who came immediately when he was called. Unfortunately, the doctor saw that Enid was beyond help, and so Enid died there at her home on 503 Zeyn Street in Anaheim. The story in the papers stated a note was found, and that because of this there was no inquest into her death (even though there was no mention of anyone having checked to see if the note was even in her own handwriting). And so it was accepted that Enid had committed suicide. Still, there have been those who believe that she did not kill herself, and that she might have been poisoned on purpose. I went over her story inch by inch in my latest book, "Stories of the Forgotten: Infamous, Famous & Unremembered,"

In regards to Paul Whitice, he too died suddenly and suspiciously. He was also a divorcee, previously married to Alice Marxmuller in 1911; However, in August of 1916, he remarried, this time to Robert Rimpau's cousin, Rosabelle Rimpau. I was recently contacted by someone who just purchased Paul & Rosabelle's first home in Los Angeles. The new owner, John Wray, is currently doing research on the history of the home itself and the Whitice family and sought me out for help in putting Paul's life events together.

Years ago, a random commentor had left a message on my blog about Enid Rimpau's death, claiming that hers was not the only suspicious poisoning in the Rimpau family, insinuating that perhaps someone within that family may have been involved in foul play in both deaths. I looked into the story myself and I have to say there are some similarities, as I will detail below.

For one, both Enid and Paul were both previously married prior to marrying into the Rimpau family.  The Rimpau's were devout Catholics. In fact, many church services had been performed in patriarch Theodore Rimpau's home, back in Anaheim's early days, before St. Boniface had been constructed. Still the idea that one of the Rimpau's poisoned both Enid and Paul is reaching. I won't say that it isn't possible, but the question remains "why?"--

Well, one could argue that because both Enid and Paul were both married before, that perhaps their marriage into the Rimpau family tarnished the prestigious Anaheim family's good name. Again, that is just speculation. But it is a known fact that divorce was frowned upon, especially during that time in our past. But, Paul didn't die months after his marriage, like Enid did. He died nearly 11 years later. So that theory that both were poisoned because of their prior marriages does not fit.

Let's look into Paul's life a little further before I get to the details surrounding his death.

Paul was born on July 10, 1887 in Ridgedale, Chattanooga, Tennessee to parents Sarah and R.D. Whitice. By 1910, the family was listed in the U.S. Census as living at 1570 W. 17th Street, in Los Angeles. At that time, Paul was 22 years old, and working as a foreman at a building company, more than likely the same place his father was working, as a contractor. On March 20, 1911, Paul married Alice Marxmuller in Orange County, California. She was 22 years old, and a native of Kentucky, while Paul erroneously listed his age as 28 (he was only 24).  At some point he divorced Alice, although I could not locate the date of their dissolution decree.

By August 10, 1916,  Paul was wed once again, this time to Rosabelle Rimpau. The wedding was quite an affair and the newspapers mention they spent their honeymoon in San Diego. In 1916, Paul built had their first home built on Westchester Place, in Los Angeles but within a year the bank foreclosed on it.

U.S. WWI Draft Registry Records
Paul is mentioned in vital records again, in 1917-1918 for the U.S. Draft Registry records, where he listed his address in Prescott, Arizona, only to cross that address out and add his mother-in-law's address at 1540 N. St. Andrews Place in Los Angeles. Paul was still listed as living with Rosabelle's mother even up until the 1920 Census.  John Wray shared with me that he discovered Paul had some legal troubles even after Paul's home had been foreclosed on at Westchester Place in 1917. In fact, according John's research, Paul had filed for bankruptcy in 1918, after creditors were still hounding him for his debts. During the 1920's he moved his family (which now consisted of one daughter and later a son), around a lot. Paul had moved at least 3 or 4 times between 1921-1927.

When researching Paul's career,  I found that he continued his involvement in architecture and real estate construction.  I found several homes in Beverly Hills, Los Angeles and Los Feliz that bear his name as either architect, builder or both.

On July 4, 1927, Paul would be found dead in his home at 6517 Country Club Drive in Los Angeles. The newspaper reported that he had played too much Sunday golf and that it was a strain on his weak heart that did him in.  Paul was only 40 years old, and according to the paper his wife claimed he had been a sufferer of health problems for a while.

The newspapers did not fail to mention the fact that there was a poison bottle found in the bathroom, which started rumors that he might have committed suicide. There is no mention of an inquest or an autopsy, just that the "Police and coroner therefore decided that he died from organic trouble."  

There is no further mention as to whether or not anyone contacted Paul's past physicians to verify whether or not he truly suffered from heart related ailments, so all we can go by is the official records filed with the county, that he died from natural causes. But was that really the case?

Santa Ana Register, July 5, 1927

So what do you think?

Is it possible that Paul was depressed and chose to end his life by way of poisoning himself? 

Poison usually is the preferred choice of women, not men. And what would be the reason for him to take his own life? Was he having legal or financial troubles again? Was his marriage on the rocks? 

And if he did commit suicide, did Rosabelle or her family pay off the police and coroner so they would rule it a natural death to avoid any scandal? 

Is it possible that Paul didn't kill himself but instead was poisoned, and the whole thing was covered up? 

Then you must ask yourself, who would have a motive to do this? And why?

Or could the simpler answer, that he died from heart failure, be the right answer all along?

I will leave that for you to decide.


(Copyright 2017- J'aime Rubio

Thank you to John Marshall and John Wray!


Santa Ana Register, July 5, 1927
Los Angeles Herald, June 16, 1920
1910,1920 Census Records
U.S. Government WWI Registry Draft Records (1917-1918)
Los Angeles Times, August 10, 1916
California County Marriages, Orange County & Los Angeles County, 1911 & 1916

Monday, June 5, 2017

A Few of Anaheim Early Residents

What Happened to Paquito? 

Paquito Pellegrin, as seen in this photo, ran Pellegrin P. & Sons in Anaheim, specializing in jewelry and sewing machines. Besides working for the family business, his son Edward managed Reiser's Opera House on Center Street, while the other son Alfred ran the first photography studio in Anaheim.  

Paquito Pellegrin was a native of Switzerland. He married Julie Aubert in Kentucky around 1857. Their union produced two sons, Edward and Alfred. According to genealogy forum posts, his great grandchildren did not know what happened to Paquito or his wife. They believed Julia died in Ohio in 1864, but have no record of death for Paquito. He was a watchmaker in Anaheim, but later he allegedly "got lost" in Nogales, Mexico.

The question is, did he find his way back?

Well, he went to Nogales, but not in Mexico, in Arizona.  In fact, according to newspaper articles dug up by John Marshall, Paquito opened a store there in 1896 in the old Pascholy building. His son, E.J. Pellegrin was to operate a grocery store on one side and Paquito would operate the jewelry/watchmaker store on the other side.  It appears that he remained in Nogales, Arizona for the short remainder of his life. Only one year after opening his store, Paquito Pellegrin passed away on October 23, 1897. 

"The funeral took place from the family residence at the corner of International Street and Morley Avenue, Sunday morning at 9 o'clock. Services were held at the cemetery and many friends of the family were present."-- The Border Vidette, 10/30/1897. 

(Photo taken in 1872, c/o "Anaheim: A Historical Reflection, The Bicentennial Edition, 1776-1976)

Daughter of a Pioneer

Matilda Rimpau was the daughter of Anaheim Pioneer Theodore Rimpau and his wife, Francesca Avila. She was also the granddaughter of Don Francisco Avila, the Alcalde of Los Angeles and one of the richest ranchers Los Angeles.

Interesting fact to note: Don Francisco owned the Rancho Las Cienegas and the the Avila Adobe on Olvera Street (which is the oldest standing house in Los Angeles). 

One of fifteen children, Matilda Rimpau made her own mark in Anaheim's history by being the very first student in the Anaheim school system to earn her diploma, graduating from high school in 1880. Sadly, on August 30, 1893, Matilda was overcome with consumption, passing away at such a young age. She is buried at the Anaheim Cemetery along with other members of her family.

A Picture is Worth A Thousand Years...and this photo shows real love! 

Anaheim residents, 
John Lawson Bryson (3/17/1870-12/6/1913)
& Louella Carrie Anderson Bryson (1867-6/16/1908)

Here is an interesting and heartwarming photo of a happy couple that is buried in the Anaheim Cemetery. I haven't been able to find records as to when they moved to Anaheim but records indicate they died there. John and Louella Bryson both passed away within 5 years of each other, with Louella dying at the age of 41, in 1908, while John died in 1913, at the age of 43. They are buried together and share a joint headstone marker. (photo from

Captain Andrade - In His Younger Years 

Here is a rare photo of Anaheim Police Captain Marcus Andrade in his younger days. He was a member of the Anaheim Police force for 23 years, serving as a patrolman, Desk Sergeant and Captain. (photo via findagrave)

Anaheim's First Doctor

 Dr. John Augustus F. Heyermann  (born: December 11, 1818 - died: February 1, 1888) Dr. Heyermann wasn't just Anaheim's very first physician, but he was also the first physician in Sonoma County as well. He also operated a drug store that he and friend, Robert Freund started on the corner of 4th and Bryant in San Francisco, prior to his move to Southern California. His marriage to his wife, Sophie was also listed as the very first marriage recorded in Sonoma County on December 21, 1851. Their union produced a daughter, Catharine who in turn grew up to marry Joseph Backs, of Backs and Terry's Mortuary which was located in the original downtown district. Dr. Heyermann remained in Anaheim and was later buried at the Anaheim Cemetery along with his wife who predeceased him by three years. -

Photo sources include: Findagrave;; the book, "Anaheim: A Historical Reflection, The Bicentennial Edition, 1776-1976"; and the Anaheim Public Library Archives. 

(Written Content Copyright, 2017 -- J'aime Rubio) 

Sunday, January 3, 2016

Memories at Mexi-Casa! Over 50 Years of History

This is a little off from the normal "historical" blogs on Anaheim that I usually write about, but it is one near and dear to my heart. You see, the little Mexican Restaurant known as "Mexi-Casa" located at 1778  W. Lincoln Boulevard was the backdrop to many of my family's memories, going back to its opening in 1965. For over 50 years this restaurant has been serving Anaheim families and making a name for itself without ever having to advertise.

I had the pleasure of interviewing one of Mexi-Casa's earliest customers, my mother, Sandy. She started frequenting the restaurant back when she was still attending Anaheim High School in 1965. Both she and my aunt Kathy (my father's sister) would eat there regularly when it first opened and they loved it so much they told everyone to eat there, too. Word got around so much that before they knew it, all their friends were eating there and the restaurant became really popular. My aunt talked about it so much at home that it eventually piqued my grandparent's interest, starting a family tradition of eating there together regularly.

This tradition continued for years. As far back as I can remember my paternal grandparents, my mom, my dad, my aunts and uncles, cousin and my siblings and I ate at Mexi-Casa at least once a week together as a family....sometimes more than once a week separately, too! Other times we would sneak away to eat there and run into my aunt and uncle eating there at the same time. It seemed that we would always run into someone we knew at Mexi-Casa.

The original location of Mexi-Casa was located at 1750 W. Lincoln (which was the "El Conejo" club for many years; now Cuban Pete's). The 2nd location was where "The Clock" restaurant originally stood (this was demolished during the I-5 expansion in the 80s). The last and hopefully final location, where it stands today, is at 1778 W. Lincoln Boulevard. Once the restaurant for the Kettle Motor Motel, the 70's style lounge decor left within the structure seems to fit perfectly with Mexi-Casa's old vintage flare thus there was no need to remodel.

From the moment you step foot into this intriguing dive that I love to call a home away from home, you literally step back into the past. The heavy wooden door conceals dark paneled hideaway in the heart of Anaheim just waiting to be discovered. Kitsch light fixtures illuminate the room, while old dusty sombreros and wooden decor hang from the walls. From the red leather booths to the menu prices itself,  it seems that you really do transport back to another time, when prices were cheaper and life was more laid back. Even some of the waitresses are the same ones I remember from long ago. (How is that possible?) ;-)

For that hour or so that you dine, you really feel like you are apart from the world. When all is done, you pay with cash (again, we are in a time warp where plastic cards don't exist!), hand the cashier a couple dimes for a few Andes Mints from the counter and you exit back out that heavy wooden door. Your eyes squint as you venture back out into the real world, and into the daylight. For that short time you escaped, and although it's over, the restaurant seems to beckon you back once in awhile, for that taste of a simpler time.

Mexi-Casa truly is one of Anaheim's historic treasures. Perhaps not an early Anaheim treasure, but a treasure nonetheless.

(Copyright 2016- J'aime Rubio

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Love and Marriage- The Schmidt & Langenberger Scandal of Anaheim

Petra Ontiveros Langenberger
What would you do for love? Many people may say, "anything," if one is truly in love. However, the standards of today were not acceptable a hundred years ago, or even 140 years ago. If one loved someone, and the person they loved was married, back then you kept it to yourself, unless you wanted to cause a scandal and bring reproach to your name, or the name of your family. For Augustus Langenberger, I guess love was all that mattered, and he created one heck of a scandal back in the early 1870s, shortly after the death of his first wife, Petra.

Augustus Langenberger came to the United States from Germany in 1849, settling in what would later become Anaheim. At the time, the land belonged to Juan Pacifico Ontiveros and it was called "Rancho de Cajon de Santa Ana." In 1850, Augustus married Juan Ontiveros' daughter, Petra. He also became the very first merchant in Anaheim's history. In 1857, Juan Ontiveros sold 1,160 acres of his land to George Hansen, who wanted to set up a German colony for the Los Angeles Vineyard Society. Within that group of new colonists was the Schmidt family, Theodore and Clementine. Several historical books claim that it was Theodore Schmidt who came up with the idea to name the town, Anaheim.
Augustus Langenberger

Theodore Schmidt was a native of Prussia, who came to the United States in 1848. He married his wife, Clementine (or Clementina) in June of 1859 in San Francisco. They were the parents of five children: Theodore Edward Schmidt, Jr., Clementine, Frances Emily, Rose Amanda, and William Frederick.

Theodore & Clementine Schmidt
It is uncertain when Augustus was struck with his infatuation or "love-sickness" for Clementine, but it was very apparent shortly after the death of his wife, Petra.  In July of 1867, Petra gave birth to a son which soon died. "Infant" Langenberger was the very first burial in what is the Anaheim Cemetery on Sycamore Street in Anaheim. Within two months, Petra grew ill and also passed away on September 7, 1867. She was the second burial in the cemetery. Her husband August gave her a meager wooden cross to mark his symbol of love, or possibly lack thereof, for his wife. 

Augustus Langenberger had money, his original residence was located on San Pedro Street, which later became 124 West Center Street between Los Angeles and Lemon Streets.  It was a 12-room adobe structure which acted as a residence, a bank, a general mercantile store and the Wells Fargo Express office for Anaheim.  It also acted as the primary trading post in between Mission San Juan Capistrano and Mission San Gabriel.  That structure stood until 1919, when it was demolished.

Langenberger Adobe
Painting of Clementine
With all that Augustus had, it was not enough, he wanted Clementine for himself. At one point he decided to name some of his land after his love-- not his deceased wife, but another man's wife, Clementine Schmidt.  Whether there were any physical improprieties committed between the two, or perhaps Clementine was flattered by the attention, it still caused quite the scandal at the time. It became so bad in fact that her husband Theodore Schmidt tried to win back his wife's affections by buying her land, giving her extravagant gifts and money, to no avail. Clementine had enough of her marriage to Theodore Schmidt and wanted a divorce. Schmidt had enough, and moved to New York, leaving Clementine to do as she pleased. By 1873, Clementine had filed for and received a divorce decree and by 1874, she was Augustus' bride.

That same year, Clementine's 13 year old son, Theodore Jr., died from what was said to have been an accidental gunshot wound. Thanks to the great detective work of John Marshall, a fellow member of our History of Anaheim Facebook Group, he put the pieces together, finding out the cause of Theodore, Jr.'s death. According to the newspaper of the time, on February 9, 1874, Theodore Edward Schmidt, Jr., was out hunting with friends at the Bolsa Chica Rancho when he attempted to shoot a hare from inside of a wagon. The "hammer (of his gun) caught on the seat of the wagon, and fell on the cap, exploding the charge, which entered behind the ear." He died a very gruesome death, instantly.

Villa Mon Plaisir
Back to the story,- Augustus and Clementine lived out the remainder of their lives together at the residence they called "Villa Mon Plaisir" or the "House of My Pleasure." Seems rather fitting since the two of them were very bold in getting what they wanted,  no matter what obstacles stood in front of them. Their home was one of Anaheim's most beautiful, situated on Clementine and Sycamore Streets, surrounded by orange groves, where Pearson Park stands today. 

Augustus passed away on April 3, 1895 and was interred in the elaborate Langenberger family mausoleum in the Anaheim Cemetery. Clementine lived another eighteen years, finally passing away on October 8, 1913. There is a memorial plaque on the mausoleum that has the dates 1849-1915, however those dates are incorrect according to Anaheim Cemetery records.

I guess we will never know how the relationship between Clementine and Augustus ended up on a personal level. Did they get the happy ending they both wanted? Was everything worth it in the end?  Again, we may never know. From records and photographs the pair appeared to be happy, even into their older years. 

Still, I cannot help but feel sorry for Theodore Schmidt and of course, Petra. The fact that Augustus didn't bother to erect a beautiful mausoleum for his first wife, but only erected a wooden cross, (not even a monument or fancy headstone), makes me feel even more sad for Petra. Instead, he names land after Clementine and eventually the pair end up in one of the finest private mausoleums in the cemetery, just feet away from Petra's meager grave.  Over the years Petra's headstone rotted until it was eventually nonexistent. By the 1970s, Mother Colony Household had a plaque put in place for Petra, and now she has a proper marker so that she can never be forgotten again. 

(Copyright 2015) J'aime Rubio

All photos from Calisphere via Anaheim Public Library Archives (for educational purposes only).