Education: The Unorthodox Way

The raw new suburb of Linda Mar nestles in the Pedro Valley, 15 miles south of San Francisco, hard by the Pacific shore. So far, only 900 of the development’s planned 3,500 homes ($9,500-$! 1,500) have been built and occupied, but bulldozers are hard at work gouging out lots on the hillsides, and scores of concrete foundations dot the valley floor. Despite its unfinished state, the whole community was hustling and bustling one foggy morning last week. Like millions of other youngsters across the nation, the 350 children of Linda Mar were trudging off to the first day of school.

Joint Enterprise. Linda Mar’s is no ordinary public school. Five weeks ago, it was no more than another valley lot. Now the Oddstad School stood ready for its pupils: an odd combination of eleven standard one-story houses linked by a breezeway, with interiors converted into light, airy classrooms, the kitchen in one serving as a teachers’ lunchroom. Last week there was work yet to be done; carpenters were still nailing on roof shingles; there was no electricity; the kindergarten’s blocks had not arrived. But months ahead of schedule, Linda Mar’s children had their own school—thanks to the joint enterprise of a builder, an architect and a school board.

When veteran Suburb Builder Andres F. Oddstad Jr., boss of “Homes by Sterling,” broke ground for Linda Mar, the already overburdened local (Laguna Sa-lada) school district found itself facing a 50% increase in enrollment. Required for the new pupils: additional school buses (cost: $60,000) and double or triple classroom shifts in the district’s three schools. Funds were short; conventional new public schools would take months, perhaps years, to finance and build.

Regulation Start. Well aware that a bad school situation makes a real-estate developer no friends. Builder Oddstad made a radical suggestion: he would make a temporary school out of tract houses, lease the school to the district until the red tape of establishing a regular school could be untangled. Then the school could be reconverted into its component houses and sold. When Architect Victor Abrahamson showed them the plans for Oddstad’s project, the local school board quickly gave him the nod. A San Francisco bank lent the money, and Oddstad’s construction crews rushed the school to completion.

On opening day last week, stocky Builder Oddstad watched the children streaming into his school with obvious delight. “This is the thing to do,” said he. “It’s up to builders to take the initiative.” Near by, under the school’s breezeway, Mrs. Robert Blomberg finally broke away from her weeping five-year-old daughter Kathlene. Said Mrs. Blomberg: “She’s been dreaming of nothing but school for weeks. Now all she can say is, ‘I want to go home.’ ” An hour later, tears dry, Kathlene was happily drawing her first picture in kindergarten. An unorthodox school was off to a regulation start.