Laurene Weste’s Wrecking Crew: Old Town’s Soul Up for Grabs
Trading Cowboys, Speakeasies, and a Wild West Morgue for Condos, 150 Years of Newhall History Teeters on the Brink of Erasure as Weste Cashes In
Welp, Santa Clarita’s Old Town Newhall is being gutted right under our noses—not just by a mixed-use development flattening small businesses but also by a slimy back-room deal where Mayor Pro Tem Laurene Weste is double- maybe even triple-dipping. She’s cutting deals with developer Tolleson while sitting on both the City Council and the Santa Clarita Valley Historical Society, which now claims a building with a 150-year history is worthless because of a 1968 remodel. This convenient revelation magically clears the path for Weste’s latest pet project, ignoring that this property was deemed historically relevant enough in 2012 to join the historical registry—what besides personal greed changed 13 years later? Oh, and doesn’t Weste still own properties around downtown Newhall that’ll cash in big? That’s lucky; what are the odds? How does she think this is remotely ethical? Her conflict’s a screaming siren of corruption—litigation begging to happen. With district voting looming, Weste’s smashing the “fuck it” button and auctioning off our community’s heritage.
The Hap-A-Lan Hall story starts in 1876, when Henry Mayo Newhall built a barn at Spruce (now Main) and Market Streets for his Newhall Land and Farming Co. By 1920, locals turned it into the Hap-A-Lan Dance Hall—named for owner Lloyd Houghton’s wife, Opal—dishing bootleg liquor during Prohibition. So, it was basically a speakeasy that’s now hosting Alcoholics Anonymous meetings—never change, Santa Clarita. In 1928, it became a morgue for 40 St. Francis Dam disaster victims; its lumber was salvaged for a new building nearby. John Boston calls it “priceless,” tied to “cowboy history, saloons, dames, and early aviation”—lumber reused from a site where Tom Mix filmed, Amelia Earhart dropped by, and oilmen rubbed elbows with bootleggers. That legacy earned it a 2012 historic nod. Yet Weste’s Historical Society claims the 1968 remodel erased it all—a bald-faced lie when Boston says it’s “still standing, still telling stories” in 2025.
What’s with all the shadow games? Everyone knows Weste is the unnamed City Council member who is waist-deep in City Hall’s “flurry of deal-making,” negotiating an impact fee for this Newhall project. How is City Manager Ken Striplin “not a party to any negotiations” when we’re shelling out nearly half a million a year for him to twiddle his thumbs? Weste knows what she’s doing is as corrupt and self-serving as it gets, so Perry Smith of The Signal keeps pressing her, and she keeps hanging up on him. Right now, the city, council, and SCV Historical Society all know this about Weste and seem somewhere between complacent and complicit; either way, they’ve been caught with their pants down. Weste shamelessly claims no conflict of interest here—she’s gotten away with this so often that I wonder what she’s got on these people or if they’ve just given up trying to reason with her. The SCV Historical Society’s mission is to “preserve and protect” our heritage, and its bylaws pledge “public and charitable purposes,” not “private gain”. So why’s Weste, with sway over its directors (Section 6.2), pushing a developer’s wishlist that leaves the community with zilch?
Weste’s notoriously a control freak with a shady past. An unnamed official reveals, “Sure, negotiations happen, but she’s relentless about getting her way.” She pressures until she wins, wielding any leverage she’s got. Everyone at the SCV Historical Society knows the 1968 remodel claim’s pure fiction—did the other chairs even vote on this? Weste’s is always inconsistent about downtown Newhall. In 2021, she praised its “past and future”—now she’s demolishing a key piece to grease the wheels for developers’ luxury condos. Tolleson profits, businesses shutter, and our history is in the dustbin.
What’s In It for Santa Clarita?
Not much—Santa Clarita gets nothing from this deal. At least with Newhall Crossing, we scored a Laemmle Theatre, Maginn’s Irish Pub, the cool Japanese bakery “The Loaf,” and other cool spots—and didn’t lose anything people’d miss; objections were mainly about the parking structure and traffic flow. This deal swaps a historical gem for million-dollar condos nobody asked for. The city loses a building tied to cowboys, Prohibition, and disaster—replaced by a soulless tower boosting Tolleson and, surprise, Weste’s nearby property values. Small businesses get flattened, and we’re stuck with more traffic and tax bills. Weste calls it “no cost to the city” (Timestamp 1:39:51)—a slick lie when you’re torching a Wild West relic for zero gain. Worse, it spits on Santa Clarita’s ordinance 17.64.050, demanding a certificate proving alterations don’t harm cultural value. Where’s Weste’s proof? The winners? Weste and the developer. Santa Clarita’s heritage takes a hit, and we’re left with another of Weste’s ticky-tacky beige boxes instead of a legacy.
What’s In It for Weste?
Everything. Before City Council, Weste was a planning commission appointee, snapping up land she knew the city’s master plan would juice—like the Dockweiler Drive extension where she owns property. Rumors are swirling that the city might dig up some buried problems on that land, though. This Newhall site’s no different—her nearby holdings will soar with Tolleson’s condos. History repeats: she’ll squeeze quid pro quo from the developer—big NGO donations for which she will take credit. On March 11, she spoke like it’s locked in: “It’s very exciting what’s coming to downtown Newhall” (Timestamp 1:40:27), hyping a “specific plan” with no nod to Hap-A-Lan—just pure, nuclear-grade Nancy Pelosi-style gaslighting, as if she’s saying, “Yes, I’m insider trading this deal, what are you gonna do about it?”
Politically, this deal’s a goldmine for Weste’s 2026 reelection bid. As Mayor Pro Tem, she’s next in line to be Mayor, letting her list “Mayor” as her ballot designation—a shiny badge next to her name that’ll give her a massive edge in the new district voting system. She hasn’t moved into the district where she’ll likely run—probably Sand Canyon, where developers like Tolleson could be eyeing projects like the Sand Canyon Trail Bridges—but the downtown Newhall deal won’t impact her new area much, making this a perfect parting shot at Newhall, the neighborhood she’s lived in for most of her council career, as she chases votes in a cushier district. The Good Ole Boy club will rally to carry her across the finish line—who else can they run now with districts in play? Tolleson and other developers cashing in on this project will pour max donations into Weste and her allies who greenlit it. They’ll host events and fund Independent Expenditures—fancy jargon for campaigns run without her direct coordination—spending tens of thousands on mailers flooding Sand Canyon or ads to prop her up and smear anyone who dares challenge her. She’ll strut around like a big-swinging dick, bragging about all the changes she did.
What Should Be Done?
Respect the damn history. If this building must move, relocate it among the older buildings near the Walk of Western Stars and Cowboy Festival—turn it into a museum for Hollywood’s Western and cowboy culture. The condo project? Force it to give back—add a co-op workspace with meeting rooms, printers, mail, and temporary desks for small businesses. Santa Clarita’s history deserves more than Weste’s wrecking ball, and the community deserves a win, not her crumbs. What’s a registry worth if bureaucrats can torch it whenever they like? Why have a list if someone can rewrite the rules? Why would a 1968 remodel kill its value? This building’s likely the longest multiuse facility in Santa Clarita history—the remodel even predates College of the Canyons (1969), CalArts (1970), and Magic Mountain (1971). This remodel took place in a very different Santa Clarita Valley.
Old Town’s heritage is the pulse of Santa Clarita—where we light the Christmas tree, parade for Independence Day, enjoy Senses on Main, and invite the world to experience the annual cowboy festival. It embodies the spirit of our community, not a bargaining chip for Weste to move the goalposts and sell to the highest bidder. Yet her deal puts it on the auction block, fattening her wallet, political coffers, and favorite NGOs while we’re left with scraps and overpriced condos for smug hipsters. This isn’t just a building; it’s our story—fight for it, or watch everything else slip away before our eyes. There’s no unringing this bell.
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One question, how could Laurene have known about Dockweiler when she's been on her Placerita Cyn property over 50 years?