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Bill and Austine Hearst spend most of the year at their Fifth Avenue home in Manhattan, but they get out to San Simeon "as often as possible." Holidays and the odd long weekend are spent in the little cottage they've staked out for themselves on the family ranch just past Pico Creek. They stayed at Hearst Castle in the "A" guest house until the mid-'70's when, according to Hearst, "Jerry Brown and the Chairman of the Parks Comission... formed up a little thing between them. They got up a pretext that they wanted another tour." He seemed bitter that the castle--owned by the state and maintained at taxpayer expense--was no longer his personal playground.
In our second interview, I told Mr. Hearst I was bitter that San Simeon Point--owned by his family and maintained at their expense--was no longer to be my personal playground. Of the five stages of the Hearst Corporation's development plan for San Simeon, Stage Three seems to bother everyone the most: the proposed 250-unit motel on San Simeon Point. The Point--a forested penninsula above San Simeon Cove--is dearly loved by many local nature enthusiasts, some of whom consider it the most beautiful piece of real estate on the Central Coast. It's an enchanted place of dark and twisted cypress trees and pine, where deer can be glimpsed in pools of ghostly sunlight, while just beyond, the ocean thunders against huge slabs of rock upended in long-ago earthquakes. It's one of those places that, once visited, can never be forgotton. But that doesn't mean the Hearst Corporation won't bulldoze it. I asked Bill Hearst what was going on. "The Coastal Commision held us up from doing anything," he griped. (Wrong. The Coastal Commission wrote the five stage project into the Local Coastal Plan, which, in effect, allows a variance in the Ag/Open Space designation of the Hearst's 77,000 acres.) After harping on the Coastal Commission a bit more, Hearst explained that they intend to "put something like the Holiday Inn out there--a first-class operation." All I could muster in response was a hollow, "Oh." Hearst explained that the state of California has long been making money hand over fist at Hearst Castle, and now it's his family's turn to get "a piece of the action." He admitted that their original plans--which called for a golf course and many more motel units--might have been "too ambitious." In a fine pantomime of contrition, he said, "I don't want to develop the ranch like that, and I don't think the family does, either." But why develop the ranch in the first place? It's not as if the Hearsts need the money. If it's the property taxes they're worried about, they could make good use of the Williamson Agricultural Trust Act, which--in exchange for the Hearst's promise not to develop the land for the next twenty years--would reduce their property taxes to a fraction of the present amount. Rather than discuss these options with me, however, Bill Hearst started telling old war stories. He was a correspondent in World War II, hobnobbing with generals in Italy and France, until a cut on his finger gave him blood poisoning and he had to go home. Since then, he has traveled the world "several times" and met with kings and queens, shahs and prime ministers, and lesser celebrities of every imaginable sort. He has been the buddy to our presidents ("Nixon and LBJ in particular") and has stories of clowning around with the Kennedys down in Palm Beach. He is thought of by many as the Hearst Corporation's ambassador to the world, but as he rambled on, it occurred to me that his father's comparison of piracy to journalism was essentially correct--provided one inherits enough money. Bill Hearst had a few words of advice for me at the conclusion of our interview. "You should cut that hair," he said; "someone might mistake you for a faggot." Thanks, Bill. I'll keep that in mind. *.......... *.......... * Not many people know that the Hearsts haven't legally established The Cove and San Simeon Point as exclusively their property. The fence that borders the area, with its many No Trespassing signs, may be illegal. Fifteen years ago, the public had unlimited access to The Cove and The Point; it is only recently that the fences and the signs have made nature walks by the common folk seem forbidden. As some of my scenic photos over the past year will attest, I have been a regular "trespasser" on San Simeon Point. Prior to that, when I lived in a water heater closet and made stained glass candle holders by moonlight to meet my meager expenses, I visited The Point as often as three or four times every week. Although I was destitute, I felt like life was worth living if I could visit such great natural beauty on an almost daily basis. My little brother, Dirk, loved to hike with me out on The Point during his frequent visits from the San Joaquin Valley. He called the place "Arieking." We traded stories about the jousting battles that had been fought in the dark corridors beneath the wind-wracked cypress trees; we peered into black, stumpy holes looking for wood gnomes; we found fairy rings hidden in tall, green grass; and we thought we heard the howlings of ghosts--but perhaps it was only the ocean wind. A few weeks ago I gave Dirk the news that "Arieking" was no more. A bulldozer and three skiploaders have been hard at work denuding the landscape within the perimeter of San Simeon Point. Five to ten acres have been cleared--and it all may have been done without the proper permits. According to sources in the County Planning Commission, a Hearst "family member" who recently visited the area gave orders for the bulldozing to go ahead. I left a message on Bill Hearst's answering machine in New York, asking him to comment. I'm still waiting for him to return the call. |
