Memories of the Design Center

The following stories are a collection of memories shared by our community, reflecting on their experiences centered around the Design Center and the Mid-Century Modern movement in San Diego. Members kindly took a moment to recall what that time and place felt like, from the atmosphere and details of daily life to the lasting influence of architects Ilse and Lloyd Ruocco and their circle of creators.

The Design Center’s impact is still felt today, and we’re honored to share these stories that preserve its spirit through personal reflection and lived experience.

Kristin H. Kjaero

I have a memory as a little girl looking out the window in the exhibit photo of the Design Center building, while my parents met with an architect who was building our house on Mount Helix. My parents felt strongly about building around the boulders to feature them, and we had giant walls of windows facing west so we could see all the way to the Harbor.

My father was an avid gardener and had Joseph Yamada plan the landscaping, entry stairs, and terracing. For years, we used to tell the story of him coming to look at the lot and saying, “I see a green happening here.” The plantings created beautiful vignettes to enjoy when we looked out at the garden.

Sadly, the house and garden have been greatly altered by its current occupants.

Marilyn McPhie

Although I grew up in a mid-century modern house in Pasadena, most of our furniture was not the classic mid-century modern. My parents had purchased much of the furniture when they lived in Boston—so it was much more classical or colonial in appearance. There was one exception. It was a low table in my brother's bedroom. Very simple. Just a black piece of wood—rectangular and unornamented. It had the mid-century metal hairpin legs. Years later, I ended up with that table. I had no place for it in my small home, so we unscrewed the legs and saved both the wooden table top and the legs, thinking we might use them sometime in the future.

One day, I was gathering my papers and other materials for a presentation on an artist for a women's group. I was frantic. I had several framed pictures to display, but I couldn't find the small easels I was planning to use. I grew more and more desperate as I needed to leave soon. My husband suggested that I could use something else in place of the easels. "Like what?" I asked dubiously. "Well, how about these table legs?" "No! I can't use table legs instead of easels!!!!!" But I was out of time. I took the table legs. They turned out to be much better than my flimsy wooden easels. More stable. Almost invisible. After that, I discarded the small wooden easels. I always used the mid-century modern table legs for all my displays for presentations.

(Even though my childhood home wasn't filled with the kind of furniture in the Mingei exhibit— my husband's childhood home looked exactly like the exhibit—low, sleek sofa, fiberglass rocking chair, space-themed lighting! Wow!)

Gitte Russo

My name is Gitte Russo, the former admin at SDAF [San Diego Architecture Foundation], and admin at just about every Architecture/Design firm in San Diego. (I was Jennifer Luce's executive assistant for years.)

Back in 2011, I worked for Davis Davis Architects (Bob & Lori Davis), whose office was in the Design Center. Our front door was the current front door, but that vestibule used to be this awkward, but cool space. Sort of a rectangle fishbowl. One day, I decided it would be cool to create a curtain wall to sort of close it in. I found this great sheer greenish silken fabric (at UFO fabrics), brought in my sewing machine, and proceeded to sew miles of 8-foot-tall curtains. We draped them up, and it looked nice. Like a little chill area to take a call or whatever.

That space was so lovely to work in. It seemed to always be a cool, shady place under the trees. We put up those Mecho shades that are in there now.

The Davises put in a lovely, cantilevered conference room, but it seems to be gone now. Too bad!

Don Goldman

I had an architectural office in the design center in 1969-1970. It was on the canyon side with a wall of windows. Every day there would be a loud bang as a bird flew into the glass. It was an exciting time to share space with other architects and interact with Lloyd.

Kelly Davis

Years ago, my husband and I bought a vintage Knoll daybed from a friend's estate sale — for a surprisingly low price, maybe $125? Another friend was visiting from Boston, and we only had an air mattress for him, so he gladly helped us balance the daybed on our car roof from University Heights to North Park.

It was a very comfortable daybed, but it could only fit one. So, after a few years, we gave it to our friend Keith York to make room for a two-person fold-out sofa. By this point, our cats had sharpened their claws on the upholstery (sorry!), and some of the black paint on the frame was chipping away. But we knew it was going to a good home.

At the member's opening, Keith told us that our Knoll daybed was part of the display. It had new upholstery, and he'd had the frame restored. We really appreciate all the work that Dave Hampton, Keith and Modern San Diego (and the Mingei, of course!) have done to preserve and honor San Diego's rich mid-century history, and we were delighted to have played a very small, very indirect role in helping Dave re-create the fabulous Design Center showroom.

Anne Abendroth

In 1957, I took an art class from Mrs. Ruocco. I think that it was called "Costume and House Furnishings”. I was an accounting major at SDSU and had to take an art class during my senior year. It changed my life. She knocked down walls and showed us how beautiful the world can be. I will always be grateful for her class. She gave me permission to be an artist; it took years, but I eventually had the courage to do it.

Together, these stories offer a glimpse into a moment in time and the many ways the Design Center was experienced—through work, curiosity, community, and everyday life. Some are personal, others more reflective, but all help bring the place and its spirit into focus.

We’re grateful to everyone who shared their memories and are pleased to carry them forward, adding another chapter to the ongoing story of the Design Center and its lasting influence.