This Black History Month, the San Diego History Center is officially launching their digital exhibit Celebrate San Diego: Black History & Heritage. This yearlong initiative invites community members to submit facts, milestones, and photos to add to their growing historical collection that honors the Black lives who shaped San Diego. Those who wish to participate can view the exhibit’s web page. There are options to submit local artifacts and historical documents, as well as to nominate a Black hero in your community.
“Black history is a key element in the fabric of our region,” says Shelby Gordon, marketing manager at the San Diego History Center. “We cannot adequately understand our city and region without having knowledge about San Diego’s Black history. The stories, challenges, and heroes of San Diego’s Black community are very compelling as well as crucial to understanding our past, present, and future.”
To celebrate Black History Month in San Diego, we’ve put together a preview of 10 interesting milestones from the exhibit’s timeline:
Frederick Coleman Finds Gold in Julian
After fleeing the South to settle in California, Frederick Coleman put Julian on the map when he discovered gold in what would soon be named Coleman Creek. The discovery kicked off a brief gold rush and Coleman settled nearby in the Cuyamaca Mountains. By 1880, sixty percent of Black San Diegans also resided in San Diego’s backcountry.
Hotel Robinson, c. 1910
Photo courtesy of the San Diego History Center
The Hotel Robinson Is One of the First Local Black-Owned Businesses
After Albert and Margaret Robinson gained their freedom from slavery, they built and opened The Hotel Robinson in Julian in 1887. Now known as the Julian Hotel, this historic building is considered one of the first Black-owned businesses in San Diego and the oldest operating hotel in Southern California.
Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Church, 1925
Photo courtesy of the San Diego History Center
San Diego’s First Black Church Is Formed in 1887
Cordelia and Soloman Johnson formed the Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Church in their home in 1887, and members of the church managed to raise funds to move the institution out of their home and into a separate building. The church is still running today.
Fisher Opera House, 1902
Photo courtesy of the San Diego History Center
The Color Line Case
According to an article published by the San Diego History Center, Edward and Mary Anderson were denied access to their orchestra circle seats at the Fisher Opera House in 1897 when manager John C. Fisher told them Black people were only allowed to stand in the balcony. The Andersons filed a lawsuit and won a judgment of $150. Though they lost the appeal, the lawsuit marked a historic first for racial discrimination cases.
Goodwin Family, c. 1902
Photo courtesy of the San Diego History Center
Henrietta Goodwin Becomes the First Black Graduate
As one of 15 in the class of 1913, Goodwin was the first Black graduate from State Normal School of San Diego (now SDSU). Though her name was not listed in the school roster of graduates, report cards showed that she attended the school beginning in 1908.
Harlem After Dark at the Creole Palace, c. 1920
Photo courtesy of the San Diego History Center
Celebrities Flock to the Creole Palace in the Gaslamp
Amid the Roaring Twenties, Black locals and celebrities flocked to the Gaslamp Quarter to stay at the new Douglas Hotel. Home of the Creole Palace nightclub, the hotel was the premier Black entertainment venue on the West Coast and saw visits from celebrities like Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, and Dinah Washington.
Howard “Skippy” Smith and his integrated workforce, 1943
Photo courtesy of the San Diego History Center
Howard “Skippy” Smith Earns a Time magazine Title
In 1943, Smith’s Pacific Parachute Company was named Time magazine’s “Top Black Owned Business in the United States.” Smith, who was a stunt pilot, had one of the first integrated workforces in the region, which included Filipinos, Asians, Latinos, and Black people.
From left: Luke Easter, Artie Wilson, and Johnny Ritchey integrated the minor-league San Diego Padres, 1950
Photo courtesy of the San Diego History Center
Johnny Ritchey Joins the Padres
In 1948, Ritchey became the first Black baseball player to join the San Diego Padres, breaking the Pacific Coast League’s color barrier and following one year after Jackie Robinson debuted with the Brooklyn Dodgers. He became known as the “Jackie Robinson of the West Coast.”
Martin Luther King Jr. Speaks in San Diego
On May 29, 1964, Martin Luther King Jr. visited San Diego to speak at California Western University (now Point Loma Nazarene) and San Diego State College (now SDSU). In his speech at Cal Western, King spoke out against California’s Proposition 14, which allowed discrimination for housing. The speeches shed light on San Diego’s segregation and racial issues, and the proposition was declared unconstitutional by the California Supreme Court two years later.
The San Diego chapter of the Black Panther Party formed in 1968. Though on a national scale the party was known primarily for its armed protests against police brutality, it also did a lot of community-oriented social work that went less reported, starting schools, supplying groceries to seniors, and operating a free breakfast program for children.
Sheltering at Home with… Don Orsillo, Padres Announcer
During the first season in decades without a baseball game to narrate, he’s giving the play-by-play on fishing, cooking with family, and rewatching “The West Wing”
Neighborhood:
Coronado Cays
Occupation:
TV play-by-play announcer, San Diego Padres
Who you’re sheltering with:
Me and my wife Kathy. Our daughters Sydney and Lauren have spent some time here during the pandemic with us as we group social distance.
What you’re doing for exercise:
Walk every morning a little over an hour. I have two routes, in the neighborhood and on the Silver Strand State Beach across the way. I try to rotate daily to mix it up. I think it’s a little over four miles.
Go-to meal:
I love to cook, and this time has given me the chance to try some new things. Mostly Italian, and many on the grill. Lots of seafood!
New TV show you’ve discovered:
I’m actually rewatching The West Wing. My wife hadn’t seen it, so I’ve had the chance to see all the seasons over again and have thoroughly enjoyed it. Since there are no concerts, The Dave Matthews Band rerun shows from last summer’s tour have filled quite a few nights for me.
Any rituals to stay sane?
It’s funny—in my now 20 years in the Majors, I have had nothing but daily rituals in a normal 162-game season. But now it’s fishing, fishing, and more fishing. With varying degrees of success. I have a paddleboat and pedal out into the bay, anchor down, and fish most afternoons. Calming. Any time I can spend out there, I cherish.
What you’ve come to appreciate:
My family. For the last 30 years I have always been working or on the road all over the country broadcasting baseball, beginning in February every spring and all summer. This year we’ve had a great amount of time spent together. Simply time we ordinarily wouldn’t have had.
What’s your daily uniform at home:
Shorts, boat shoes, polo or fleece of some kind. Generally repping my team. I have a ton of comfortable Padres hangout gear. During spring training, with the Padres changing back to brown this year, I had to really update my wardrobe. So I was ready.
What you can’t wait to do when it’s safe for everything to reopen:
Broadcast baseball and do what I love. Going to stadiums, calling great games, and having all the Friar Faithful be there and be able to attend without fear, and for them to just be able to enjoy a day or night at Petco Park again when able.
What does your workspace look like?
It’s been spent in my wife Kathy’s office. We have been doing virtual Padres broadcasted games and shows on social media and Fox Sports San Diego from home. It’s where the laptop is and has the best WiFi for video and audio purposes.
Senior Vice President, Public Affairs San Diego Padres
By Joyce A. Glazer
Sarah Farnsworth
Barney & Barney G.R.O.W. logo
geneenm
How did you make the leap from Washington, D.C., to the Padres in San Diego? Tom Garfinkel, CEO of the Padres, asked me if I would consider working for a baseball team. I thought it was a joke. I didn’t know anything about baseball. After 19 years in D.C. I wanted the opportunity to become a part of a community, and that is what I saw in San Diego. It’s an opportunity for me to give back.
You are engaged to marry a retired Marine, and you have a young daughter. What role did they play in your decision to join the Padres? It was a family decision. We decided together. I was working in a job that really wasn’t a career. With the Padres I have a career where I can be challenged, and I am part of a civic asset. Since my fiancé is retired, he plays a big role in my daughter’s care when I have work demands.
How did you get involved in politics? I was living in New York when the Democratic National Convention was held there; 22 years old and just out of college, I volunteered at the convention. From there I was assigned to do advance for Hillary Clinton during Bill’s first run for president. That was 1992. When Bill won the presidency, I was asked to work on the inauguration in 1993. From there I went to work on the First Lady’s staff in the East Wing. I was responsible for planning all events in the Rose Garden, the South Lawn, and basically anything in the White House. And the Clintons were very active, with many events going on!
Tell me about your time in the White House. I worked seven and a half years and left to marry, but returned for the last six months at the end of the Clinton term. I celebrated my 30th birthday at the second Clinton inauguration.
Where did you work when you left the White House? I was chief of staff at the USO and traveled frequently to Afghanistan and Iraq. I was working in the world headquarters for then-General Jim Jones, who later became President Obama’s national security advisor. President Obama asked me to become senior advisor to the national security advisor, so that put me working in the West Wing of the White House. When General Jones resigned in 2010, I was asked to work in the Pentagon.
You spent so much time working for presidents in both wings of the White House. How did you keep your feet on the ground? I never thought of it as politics, but as being part of an historical institution. There was a plaque on the wall in the White House that I passed by every day. The bottom line was “one day you will be on the other side of the iron gate.” That puts it in perspective.
What challenges have you faced? After being to Iraq and Afghanistan, challenges take on a different meaning. As long as my family is healthy, I don’t have any bad days.
What adjustments did you have to make when you joined the Padres? I have had to earn trust and credibility in a whole new profession, I had to learn baseball, and I have had to earn trust in the community.
What is in your future? I’m here with the San Diego Padres as long as they will keep me.
Walking into a room full of strangers isn’t high on the fun index for most. It’s inherently awkward: Everyone’s standing in closed-loop clusters, deep in conversation, and, depending on your social aptitude, the feeling is somewhere between light apprehension and burning alive from the inside out. The pull to retreat or reflexively look busy on your phone is stronger than the drink you now deeply crave. Having friends is nice, but making friends can be brutal.
There’s plenty of commentary on the loneliness epidemic. Last year, the American Psychiatric Association reported that one in three adults feel lonely at least once a week; those aged 18 to 34 are more likely to feel isolated and even more likely to turn to social media as a result. Dr. Vivek Murthy’s “My Parting Prescription for America” cautioned that “being socially disconnected increases our risk of heart disease, dementia, depression, anxiety, and premature death.” So it’s not just an emotional need; it’s nearly nutritional—chit-chat and the occasional wine-fueled, emotional deep-dive are just as important as Pilates and a reasonable amount of kale.
Finding social connections in any city is hard, but San Diego has very specific challenges. This is largely a transient population that acts as a temporary hotspot for many and a permanent home for few. Pick your reason: high rent, surreal gas prices, housing shortage, meh job opportunities (ranked 71st in the country in 2025), or the fact that active military is a sizable chunk of us (110,000-ish)—stationed here for a stretch, then gone. This constant flow of departees sucks out the potential for deeply established families and friend groups, leaving a good share of nomads, searchers, and plenty of people feeling socially awkward.
“There’s an underlying loneliness in all of us,” says Ramel Wallace, the host of monthly meetup CreativeMornings. “There are not a lot of San Diegans who are born and raised here, so [even those] San Diegans end up being just as lonely as the person who just got here.”
Photo Credit: Blair Kirby
Every month, in local libraries, breweries, and small businesses, there are ambitious social architects who have made a career out of undoing social sads. Extroverted champions of the awkward and searching, they’ve struck gold on in-person connection.
The first moments in a social situation are crucial. Sets the tone and cools the nerves.
At Pitch-A-Friend, singles recruit their close friends to present a slideshow of their dating green flags. The entry points for connection at Pitch-A-Friend are simple, old tech: stickers. Each colored sticker indicates if the wearer is single or taken, queer or straight, or practicing ethical non-monogamy (in a partnership but open to others under a mutual understanding).
At the helm of each showcase is Arielle Fuller, aka Chief Wingwoman, who is making dating hopeful again. As Fuller explains, this takes some of the fear of rejection out of a first interaction. “Putting a sticker on immediately means, ‘I wanted to leave my house and talk to someone, and I am a safe space to come and speak to me,’” she says.
Of course, not all of San Diego’s events designed to make connections are romantic. On the last Friday of every month, hundreds gather at San Diego Central Library for the local chapter of CreativeMornings—an org formed to unite creatives in various cities across the world (designers, artists, writers, producers, performers, architects, etc.).
Photo Credit: Gina Ribando
These aren’t your standard business card swaps, though. Coming from a hip-hop background, host Wallace uses call-and-response to break the fourth wall. “This is not my stage at all, this is our stage,” he says.
In your standard lecture-based meetup, the crowd silently faces the host and acknowledges nobody except those they came with. At CreativeMornings, everyone is encouraged to look around, pay attention to the strangers in the audience—not just the host. Wallace will pull volunteers to read the CM manifesto aloud, and he passes the mic to creatives, who make 30-second pitches to the community about projects they’re working on—and there’s always an invitation to connect and collaborate with the presenters whose ideas struck a chord.
The U.S. Chamber of Connection (yes it exists) says people experience life transitions nearly every year, and in these stretches are more open to forming new habits, relationships, and communities. In a revolving-door city like ours, the transition often comes when someone moves away. In 2023, the Census Bureau reported San Diego had the ninth-highest rates of domestic out-migration in the US.
This poses an issue for friendships that IRL SD addresses in monthly friend-making events called 619 Night.
“San Diego isn’t a place a lot of people stay forever,” says Alex Hunter, the creator of IRL SD. “They leave, and people [who stay] lose that community, so they’re hungry for community again.”
Their website describes the vibe as “backyard party meets college fair meets networking event meets happy hour.” Each follows a theme—wellness, sports, refresh and reset, etc.—with related community groups joining as well.
“The people I encounter are trying to get a fresh start in some capacity, so they’re more open, receptive, and ready to meet new friends,” Hunter says. “They need the circle.”
Photo Credit: Elysian Visions by Deaune Boyd LLC
Another way adults can break out of this disconnection is to revert in unison, says artist Elisa Summiel-Bey. The 2015-ish adult coloring book moment in the US was based on some real science, with multiple studies finding coloring has a noticeable meditative and stress-release effect by taking the brain away from anxieties and mental inventories, and focusing it on a simple, easy art. Summiel-Bey’s company Illustrated Melanin throws “Color & Chill” events, turning that trend into a group exercise, along with live DJ sets, wellness experts doing sound baths, and food and drink from BIPOC-owned local businesses. “I tend to think of coloring as your way to tap back into your childlike play,” she says. “As adults, I think we’re almost scared to let loose and have that unabashed joy.”
All of these social meetups attract crowds of likeminded connection-seekers, but high attendance is not the only thing that matters. Metrics nuts can track RSVPs, but spreadsheets can’t capture intangible wins: friendships made, innovative ideas sparked, collaborations kicked off. At CreativeMornings, Wallace redefines ROI as Return On Imagination. Resounding success means thoughtful inquiries over coffee, curiosity about the monthly meeting themes, and requests to take the microphone.
A simple, observable ROI is an increased number of window shoppers to the experience—on the periphery, watching from afar, looking for the right way in. Hunter from IRL SD sees the anxiety in her DMs. “The scariest part for you right now is not meeting new friends: It’s the unknown,” she says. “It’s the gap between ‘I’m here’ and ‘That’s where I need to be.’ If I can help you understand, or get a little bit of a shape around that unknown, it’s much more approachable.”
Courtesy of IRL SD
Being able to bridge that gap, however, depends on your ability to step out of your own mind. “It’s not a connection crisis; it’s a courage and confidence crisis,” says Fuller. The first hello could be as easy as, “Hey, cool shirt.” These are the types of things she includes in her confidence lab reels on Instagram and weekly newsletters.
Ever left a social event and shot straight into a spiral? Was I being weird? Why did I tell that story? I hope that person moves to another state very soon.
The experts say that post-event self-interrogation is a standard-issue part of being alive.
“I love awkward people, and I love being awkward myself,” says Wallace. “It’s humbling to experience: ‘I’m not alone. Finally someone is not put together.’ So give yourself that grace.”
Jeannine Boisse (she/her) is a freelance writer and professional creative with a background in Radio & Television. Based in sunny San Diego, Jeannine spends her time exploring the city's vibrant brewery scene, cooking up new recipes in the kitchen, and connecting with new people.
Stake Chophouse & Bar isn’t your average steakhouse. Blue Bridge Hospitality’s Coronado outpost is a modern interpretation of a big-city steakhouse nestled in the heart of the small coastal community. The team at Stake has reimagined the whole steakhouse experience. By prioritizing a seasonal farm-to-table sourcing philosophy, a personalized guest experience, and unique service touches, like a formal steak presentation and a bespoke knife selection process, Stake distinguishes itself in a sea of steakhouses.
Exceptional steaks, including Wagyu from Japan, Australia, and the U.S., and fresh seafood flown in daily form the core of Stake’s culinary identity. The menu features a five-course omakase-style steak experience highlighting house favorites, plus an array of cuts, and classic steakhouse staples—think a wedge salad, baked potato, or pasta carbonara—refined for a contemporary palate without losing their traditional appeal. Stake focuses on seasonal sourcing from the region’s best family farms and specialty purveyors, and incorporates intentionally unexpected touches to create something truly unique.
“I challenge our chefs and myself to take it a step further in sourcing,” says Chef Ronnie Schwandt. “It’s important to us to highlight different farms, unique one-off farms—whether it’s cattle, strawberries, a local fisherman or from anywhere in the United States, we’re always trying to find that niche.”
Beyond the menu, Stake emphasizes outstanding service, says Vinny Spatafore, Director of Hospitality Operations. Staff maintains detailed notes, allowing them to remember guests by name, recall previous orders such as a favorite martini (also memorable for the customer since it’s served in an extra tall, distinctly-shaped glass), and celebrate special occasions like birthdays and anniversaries.
“When you have those points of topic that you remember about a guest, they appreciate that,” he says. “Our servers are really good with that—we have a couple servers who have been here since the beginning and they’ll remember somebody from years ago, their name, their kids’ names, where they live. I’m really thankful to have a great front of house staff.”
Award-winning wines, rare whiskeys, special events, and a complementary black car service that provides transportation for guests throughout Coronado add to Stake’s appeal.
Schwandt stresses that Stake offers more than a meal; they aim to give patrons something unforgettable.
“It starts when you walk up the stairs and are greeted by the hostess—that sets the tone for the night. Then you’re greeted by a server, who may know you by name, and can guide you through the menu and curate as they get to know you,” says Schwandt. “Most people leave kind of blown away; they leave feeling like they just had an experience. That’s the goal, right? Whether you’re serving smash burgers or high-end steak, you want somebody to leave thinking, Wow, that was awesome.”
Ray’s Tennis doesn’t look like much from the outside. Never has. It’s just a green box with cloudy windows in Hillcrest, just steps away from a McDonald’s on University Avenue. But for nearly 60 years, this place has been the genesis for three generations of San Diego tennis dreams. Head inside, and you enter one of the tennis world’s great cornucopias.
For years, there was a tennis court behind the store, where owner Bob Ray gave countless lessons. It was like a racket-sport speakeasy; most customers didn’t realize the court existed unless Bob or his wife, Hiroko, guided them through the back door of the shop. Eventually they converted it into a half-court indoors—where a patron might take a racket for a few trial thwacks, trying to avoid rounders of tennis clothes that shared the space.
The shop is an abridged living history. Relics hang from the ceiling: a model of an old metal racket used by fiery lefthander Jimmy Connors in his heyday, and a version of the wooden Donnay that Björn Borg wielded on his way to five consecutive Wimbledon championships from 1976 to 1980.
And just inside the front door is Hiroko eternally stringing new rackets, carefully threading and adjusting the tension of the polyester strings, back and forth, until she has the entire racket head strung.
Photo Credit: Matt Furman
“I worked seven days a week—five days off in the year,” she says. “My hearing is still good. Physically, I’m as good as I was. Working seven days a week, standing all day. I’m mentally healthier than most people.”
The racket stringing is an operation she does up to 20 times a day—and one that, in some ways, resembles the thread work done by her father decades ago, when he ran a tailor’s shop in Japan.
Hiroko, now 81, was born in the city of Yokosuka at the tail end of the WWII. Her family evacuated to the countryside to escape the bombing raids, and she remembers growing up surrounded by rice fields and mountains. It was in Japan that Hiroko met Bob, a third-generation San Diegan, in the late 1960s, when he was stationed there with the Navy.
Among his possessions at the time was a tennis racket. Inherited from his father, who died when Bob was 11, this racket changed the trajectory of his life: He played constantly, filling up his school days, afternoons, and evenings on the tennis court. He was one of the highest-ranked teen players in the state, and he dreamed of joining the international tournament circuit after his stint in the Navy. But—speaking plainly—he acknowledges that he wasn’t quite good enough to compete with the best of the best. So, instead, he modified his dreams. He and Hiroko returned to San Diego in 1968, and he took a job as the club pro at Morley Field. By their mid-20s, in lieu of touring the world on the tennis circuit, the couple was running the club’s tennis store.
They spent 11 years at Morley Field, which at the time was one of the city’s tennis epicenters, hosting major tournaments for juniors. When the city handed over the store lease to a wealthier applicant, the Rays took over the property on University Avenue and moved in their tennis gear. They have been there ever since—through the McEnroe and Navratilova and Evert eras; the rise of Agassi and Sampras and Graf; the reign of the Williams sisters; the Federer-Nadal-Djokovic rivalry; and into the Alcaraz era. In the near-half century they have sold tennis gear in Hillcrest, the Rays became beloved anchors of the neighborhood’s business community, symbols of stability in an ever-changing environment.
At 84, Bob is still lean and, in his Lacoste tracksuit and Adidas cap, remains every bit the club pro. Like Hiroko, he comes to the store every day—though sometimes, if he is playing tennis in the morning, he might arrive a little later.
Photo Credit: Matt Furman
But time has started to take its toll. His hearing isn’t what it used to be, and the aging process is revealing itself to be true. And much to the disappointment of their loyal clientele, San Diego’s “First Couple of Tennis” is retiring, a milestone that marks the end of an extraordinarily long chapter in the city’s tennis history.
But Ray and Hiroko didn’t sell the building to a developer for condos or to a big-box retailer looking to open a boutique outpost. Determined that Ray’s should remain a tennis temple, they have negotiated a sale to a former employee who wants to continue the Rays’ legacy.
As of this writing, Hiroko and Bob remain in charge, Hiroko stringing rackets, Bob sharing his expertise about new gear. As much as they love what they’ve built, their hope is to move on soon.
For Hiroko, the prospect of retirement is bittersweet. “What am I going to do?” she asks. “Am I going to be ok? I never had a boring life. Always busy. Business first. I’m so involved in the business—because I didn’t want to fail.”
She looks around her store as she continues stringing. For her, the gladiatorial nature of tennis has always been a metaphor for how to succeed in life. “People have to have a drive,” she says. “You can’t just quit because you lose to so-and-so. Tennis players have that mindset.”
She pauses to talk about all the people who have come through the store’s door over the decades, and the relationships she has built with them. “It’s wonderful to have a great customer. That’s probably the reason I lasted this long.”
Sasha Abramsky is the West Coast correspondent for the Nation magazine and the author of nine books. His tenth book, Chaos Comes Calling, will be published by Bold Type Books in September.
At the 1996 Atlanta Summer Olympics, Dane Chapin had a problem. He found himself in possession of tens of thousands of excess Monopoly games, with no plan on how to sell them. What he didn’t know at the time is that this Herculean task would shape the future of his business.
In 1994, Chapin and his sisters started their Carlsbad company, USAopoly, with a two-year license from Hasbro to make city editions of the popular Monopoly board game. “The game is a great canvas,” Chapin remarks. While some aspects of the game are “sacrosanct,” according to Chapin—the four corners, for example—many of the details can be customized to fit a theme.
Photo Credit: Cole Novak No matter your favorite film or TV franchise, there’s probably a USAopoly game representing it
USAopoly appealed to local customers by including San Diego and La Jolla editions in the original six games it created (alongside New York, San Francisco, Boston, and Atlanta versions). The tokens of the San Diego board included a surfer, a beach cruiser, and a copy of the Union-Tribune. Instead of Park Place or Reading Railroad, players land on the Gaslamp Quarter or the San Diego trolley. But after two years of city-specific boards, the siblings were ready to branch out.
In 1996, Hasbro gave them license to create an Olympic edition of Monopoly to commemorate the Atlanta games. The Olympic Committee had agreed to purchase 20,000 copies, a huge number for USAopoly in those days. They decided to manufacture 35,000, figuring they could sell the extra 15,000 on their own. The games went into production, but the Olympic Committee hadn’t actually sent over a purchase order.
“I finally get the buyer on the phone,” Chapin recounts. “And she says, ‘We’re going to order 90 games.’ Nine-zero. Not 900, not 9,000, not 90,000. Ninety.”
Photo Credit: Cole Novak Chapin shows off a snapshot from his weeks hawking Atlanta Olympics Monopoly boards on the street.
When he reminded her of the initial request for 20,000, she said that the team had changed their mind. “There was no point for me to get angry or get mad at her,” he adds, laughing. “I just had to figure out what I was going to do.”
Chapin landed in Atlanta for press coverage the week before the opening ceremony. “The Olympics are a white-hot deal, and then it’s done,” Chapin explains. “And once it’s done, there’s really no market for all those goods.” So, he shipped 20,000 games to the city. If nothing else, he’d have them on hand to replenish the stock for local stores. But, while Chapin was walking to an interview with an Olympic Monopoly board under his arm, a man stopped him on the street and asked where he bought it. Chapin sold it to him for 20 bucks. A lightbulb went off.
Photo Credit: Cole Novak USAopoly’s Carlsbad offices hold copies of the thousands of games the company has produced since 1994.
“We’re sitting with a warehouse of 20,000-plus games that need to find a home,” he recalls. Why not get them directly into consumers’ hands? He rented a van, bought a dolly, and got to work. “I spent the next two weeks on the streets of Atlanta, schlepping games,” he says. At the end of those two weeks, all the boards had been sold at $20 apiece.
Hasbro never knew the full story. But the company did notice how successful the Olympic board had been—and it was all the proof it needed to increase USAopoly’s licenses. “That was the inflection point for USAopoly,” Chapin says. “After that, [Hasbro] expanded our purview, our grants, well beyond city editions.”
Chapin and his sisters started to create pop-culture versions of Hasbro games, producing tributes to everything from Harley-Davidson to Metallica to The Simpsons. Now, three decades later, USAopoly (also known as The Op) is on track to sell over seven million games this year. It’s grown into an international family entertainment company that designs original best-sellers like Telestrations and Flip 7 in addition to twists on the Hasbro classics.
Photo Credit: Cole Novak The board gives players the chance to invest in iconic SD properties like the Carlsbad Flower Fields and the zoo.
Peek in the archives at the Carlsbad offices, and you find shelves jam-packed with a copy of each game the company has produced since its inception, from the Atlanta Olympics Monopoly that changed USAopoly’s fate to Dragon Ball Z chessboards and RuPaul’s Drag Race Clue.
Chapin shows off the original San Diego Monopoly, still sealed in its packaging. “Think about some of your fondest memories in life,” he instructs. “My fondest memories include going to my grandparents’ house with my brother when I was 10 years old—we’d have a sleepover and play canasta for hours. Talk about joy, laughter, and lifetime memories.” He smiles. “So, that’s my job—to create games that will do that, that will bring people together and get them to put their phones away. It’s pure, and people can be present. That’s more important than ever.”
First, the upfront: This is a paid partnership with the Padres. Second, that’s not going to stop me from reliving one of my favorite kid memories.
I was 11 years old when the Padres played the Chicago Cubs in the playoffs. The Padres were a large part of my world. My mom, a baseball nut, taught me how to keep score in an official book that year. We had season tickets, which meant we were able to get seats for the playoff games. Padres lost the first two games, came back to San Diego on the ropes.
Mom and I were sitting in the left field bleachers when Kevin McReynolds hit a towering fly ball in our direction. The ball got bigger and bigger and bigger. The Cubs’ left-fielder ran toward us, ran fast until he ran out of room. The ball landed, and the stadium exploded.It landed right… HERE. It landed at US.
Up until that moment, I’d always envied the other, closer seats.
Three days later, I was sitting in the upper deck when Craig Nettles threw the ball to Alan Wiggins and the team rioted into a human pile of happy in the center of the field. The Pads’ first trip to the World Series.
The bleachers are where us fans harvest homers. Send us your dingers, your dongers, goners, taters, oppo tacos, no-doubters, moon shots, your grand salamis, and your Machados. Slam Diego isn’t a fictional place. It’s a seat. And that seat… is right here. It’s a tad louder in the bleachers because, well, joy and happiness aren’t quiet. Welcome to the party at the end of the home run rainbow.
It’s down to the wire, the biting of nails. Machado and Soto and Joe and Yu and Snellzilla and all the players with great hair could use locals at the finish line. Get a seat. Any seat. All have their unique charms. And should you decide to become a member (partial or whole season tickets for 2023), the list of perks is pretty impressive, including:
—priority access to Postseason tickets (and, baseball gods be willing, World Series)
—before each game, it’s happy hour (more than half-off select beer, wine, and cocktails)
—invitation to watch batting practice to catch homers (if you get a ball with gold-stitching, you get a free Pads jersey of your choice)
—10% off all schwag (City Connect calling your name)
