Grown in San Pasqual Valley by Franklin Trussell

Franklin Trussell
     Perhaps two of the most unique members of the Trussell clan in San Pasqual Valley were Franklin and Jane Trussell. Franklin suffered a hip injury while a football player at Escondido High School. One thing led to another and he ended up spending several years as a trapper in Arizona. As a result of this experience and his ranch up-bringing he developed a very high degree of self-reliance. In the late forties, he met and married Jane Largent and they made their home on the southern most piece of the original Trussell ranch. Jane taught school at the San Pasqual Union School District as well as driving the bus, serving as the librarian and any other duty required. She was also a skilled athlete. I can remember visiting their home and seeing the wall covered with her baseball trophies. In baseball circles they called her "Dutch" Trussell. There's even a baseball diamond in Kit Carson Park named in her honor.
     The "San Pasqual Valley" label shown above was Franklin's trade mark. He grew organically grown vegetables and fruit, early in the season and unique in their quality. While working for Franklin, I'd guess that my brothers and I, and several of our cousins, pasted thousands of labels like this on the end of packing boxes for Franklin's plums and peaches. I know Franklin and Jane pasted many more. Many people would come to visit the valley just for the opportunity to buy fresh produce from Franklin. There were two big maple trees in front of their home and much of the packing work was done under their shade. It was there that I usually spent my lunch hour, eating Crenshaw melons and listening to the humming bird sing his silly song.


Franklin Trussell in 1932


Franklin Trussell

     Walking north on what is now Bandy Canyon Road from a visit to the pond to gather pollywogs. In the spring there was often a pond across what is now called Bandy Canyon Road near the south end of the Trussell property. The Trussell children would go to this pond and gather pollywogs, take them home and watch them become frogs. Fifty years later Franklin and my Dad, Robert, took me down to the San Pasqual River near the monument where we did the same thing. Judging from the head of white hair it must be Amos on the right side of the road, climbing over the gate to the Trussell place. Could that be older brother Rhodes sitting on the fence to the right of Amos, watching them both? Rhodes and Amos are observing a fine tradition; leaving little brother to do all of the heavy, but delicate work of carrying buckets of water.