My best friend, Wallace, lived somewhere in this area back in the mid 40s. At that time, there were not many houses on this road. His was one of the few.
I recall going to his house from the dairy I lived on with my grandparents, on Cannon Road. Before I could drive, which was at age 14, something allowed for families who had no other driver during the war years, I would ride my horse, Ol' Bob. It was a nice ride on the country roads. Highway 101 was harrowing though, with cars whizzing by on a road that was then, as I recall two lanes. Ol' Bob sometimes would spook, making me wonder if I were in control. Well, actually I guess I never was in control, nor born to the saddle. Ol' Bob had a mind of his own. When he first came into my life, he did as he pleased, going home when he decided he had enough trotting along. I was encouraged to show him "who was boss." Not sure I ever got there, but at least I managed to get to the place where I could coax him to go beyond sight of the barn.
There was a watermelon patch near Wallace's house. That must have been after I was driving as we were tempted to make a "night" raid on the patch. I suspect what barred me from doing so was the influence my Pentecostal grandma had on me. To steal a watermelon, not only would bring eternal damnation upon me I figured, but if mama, the name I called her, found out, I would be in worse trouble. Her influence also kept me out of pool halls, as she thought them to be dens of iniquity. To this day, I can't comfortably go into such a place.
Driving out this way made me wonder about what happened to Wallace. We moved to Watsonville when I was a sophomore. Wallace might have left the area even earlier.
Parking available within a few feet of cache location. Take Google map down to street view and you will know where to look.