Like most valley townships, Los Alamos has a one-street downtown with enough local pride and family history to fill a metropolis.

Charlie’s Restaurant honors Los Alamos history

 

Holding down the far end of Bell Street in Los Alamos, Charlie’s Restaurant is a virtual hub for small-town pride and history. In fact, many would agree that Charlie Gonzalez and his family do more than their share to keep the home-fires burning for the little town they’ve called home for 50 years.

Charlie Gonzalez is the second of three generations in the Los Alamos history books. His father, Henry Gonzalez, originally from Santa Maria, quite literally found the place by accident.

“Back then no one really stopped in Los Alamos, but the freeway ran right through downtown,” Gonzalez explained.

 

 “My dad was driving his new Model A back from Santa Barbara when he broke an axel and coasted to a stop right in front of the water tower. It was instantaneous — he knew he wanted to buy the building and move to Los Alamos,” he said.

Charlie’s mother wasn’t entirely sure about the plan to move from the “big city” to a township, population 400. Born in Betteravia, Jessie Gonzalez had lived in Santa Maria since she was nine years old. She had social status, crowned the first Queen of the Black and Blue Ball, a charity organization that benefits the Boy’s and Girl’s Clubs.

“I remember Henry came home and asked if I wanted to move to Los Alamos. ‘No,’ was my answer, but he was pretty determined to build our life here,” she said.

The Gonzalez family business flourished in Los Alamos as the area meat locker plant, located in the original water tower still standing downtown. Ranching was the primary industry in those days, and Henry Gonzalez, a meat cutter by trade, was known for only the best quality.

 

“One part of his business was making hamburger patties for the local restaurants,” Charlie explained. “Sometimes people would ask him to use cheap meat, but he refused. He used to say, ‘If you want cheap, buy cheap. But if you want choice customers, only buy choice product.” 

The meat locker is long gone, but those words still ring clear in Charlie’s mind, now 30 years into the restaurant business and still carrying the torch for his father’s business principles.

Established in 1978, Charlie’s Restaurant opened as a continuation of the family business, with Jessie in the kitchen, and later, Charlie’s nine-year-old daughter, Cecilia, learning the ropes. Serving traditional American food, with some of Mrs. Gonzalez’s choice Mexican recipes, such as Chile Verde, Charlie’s has also come to be known for its quality.

With some form of family business dating back to 1957, it’s no surprise that Charlie has earned the distinction as Los Alamos’ oldest proprietor with nary a gray hair on his head. Through the years of earning this distinction, Charlie has watched as the landscape of surrounding Los Alamos has shifted from cattle ranching to vineyards.

It was in the early days of this change that Charlie started to formulate ideas for how to honor the ranching history of Los Alamos.

“I saw the ranching life begin to phase out on the big scale and knew that an era was ending. I wanted to dedicate something to the old timers, and give something back to the community,” Gonzalez said.

 

With this in mind, Charlie began to envision a mural that depicted Los Alamos the way it had been in his father’s day. In 2000, Charlie’s vision came full circle when he met Hugh Slater, a western painter.

“I commissioned him for two big paintings of local celebrity, Luke Branquinho, World Champion Steer Wrestler. I was so happy with [Slater’s] paintings, I asked him to do a mural in the restaurant’s garden,” he said.

Outside, in the garden, Slater’s mural of Charlie’s vision holds court over the tranquil, outdoor setting — dining tables smattered across a patch of lawn, bordered by jasmine vines and a bubbling rock fountain. In the mural an anonymous cowboy herds three Herefords, a type of cattle rarely seen in the valley anymore, and behind him the golden Los Alamos hills give way to snow-capped Figueroa Mountain.

 

The centerpiece of the mural is a huge valley oak shooting up in the foreground, its roots digging below the soil and scrawled with the names of the original Los Alamos ranch owners, many of whom are long gone, but still deeply engrained in the memory of Charlie’s childhood recollections.

Names like Chebot, Pearson and Torres. In all there are over 100 names seemingly etched in white paint in the roots of the oak.

“I wanted something that would capture the feeling of the way it was; the way I remember it,” Gonzalez explained.

An era immortalized in history, Charlie got his wish to capture Los Alamos in his father’s time — a time that precious few locals will ever forget.