He’s given to use of the term “mule skinner” when speaking of himself — but to most people he’s better known as “Mr. San Diego.”
Roscoe E. “Pappy” Hazard has seen a lot of history in the making — and has made some himself. From Globe, Arizona, his birthplace, to the Pacific — from border to border, through Canada and Mexico, and across virtually every square mile of the Western tier of states, he has waged a relentless, life-long love affair with the West and its colorful history — and in particular that little corner of it known as San Diego.
Cattle rancher — meat packer — bookkeeper — rancher — traveling salesman (long before the automobile) — hardware dealer — rancher — building roofer — sporting goods store owner — rancher — warehouse operator — miller — retail grocer — rancher — contractor — drayman — rancher — highway contractor — building materials dealer — rancher — real estate operator — civic servant — rancher.
Always, a rancher — and always, an ardent fan of anything having to do with horses and the big sky, wide open country in which they are at their best and most beautiful. “Pappy” Hazard is a prime example of the old adage, paraphrased, “You can take the boy away from the ranch — but you can’t take the ranch out of the boy.”
He builds highways that extend for hundreds of miles in many directions — but all the roads of his personal interest lead toward his magnificent museum of Western history and lore, at Friars Road and Cabrillo Freeway.
For as long as there has been a San Diego History Center there has been a Roscoe E. Hazard lending support, encouragement, inspiration, and tremendous loyalty, to every idea, project or plan that might contribute toward a fuller realization of the goals of the Society and of Serra Museum. He is the source of some of Serra Museum’s most interesting exhibits, including the superb stagecoach, made in New England by Abbott & Downing, and valued at more than $10,000. Many of the Society’s functions have been held on “Pappy’s” ranch at Rancho Santa Fe where, as everywhere else, his hospitality is as boundless as his energy and his interests. He’s the kind of friend and booster every museum or historical society would like to have — but which very few are ever fortunate enough to enjoy.
To “Pappy” Hazard, then — with unqualified admiration and gratitude — The San Diego History Center affectionately dedicates this issue of its Journal.
ELVIRA L. WITTENBERG, President