Crestview: San Ramon’s escape to the country

It was the spring of 1964, and in the rolling golden hills of San Ramon, something new was blooming. Not wildflowers, but front lawns. Not barns, but breezeways. The Crestview subdivision made its grand debut in May of that year—a new neighborhood set in what was fondly marketed as the “country club section” of San Ramon Village, a planned community that promised fresh air, wide streets, and a chance to play out the American Dream, one garage door at a time.

The builder? H.C. Elliott, a name with big suburban ambitions. His plan was bold: 502 homes, all surrounding the community’s newest centerpiece—Country Club Elementary, San Ramon’s very first elementary school. A school right in the heart of the neighborhood? Now that was futuristic thinking.

Location of the Crestview neighborhood in San Ramon, California.

A grand opening—complete with cowboys and helicopters

You can’t just launch a neighborhood without a little razzle-dazzle. And razzle, Crestview had. On opening day, Marshall Clyde and Indian Jim—colorful performers from San Jose’s beloved Frontier Village—swooped in via helicopter, kicking off the celebration with Wild West flair. For the crowd, it was part spectacle, part sales pitch: this was where the West was being reimagined—less saloons, more solariums.

A May 1964 Oakland Tribune ad—it wasn't just new homes, it was a party. Balloons, hay rides, refreshments, amusement park performers, even a helicopter. This grand opening was as close to a circus as one could get.

A man’s castle (with Gaffers & Sattler appliances)

The advertising pulled no punches. Crestview promised every man his castle—where the workday ended with golf at the club and dinner magically appeared on the patio.

Welcome home, Daddy-o. An ad from August 30, 1964.

But the real power? That rested squarely in the kitchen.

Because in the 1960s, women ruled the domestic realm, and Crestview’s kitchens were designed accordingly—open, spacious, and filled with light, they allowed moms to cook, chat, and keep an eye on the kids, all at once. Hidden galley kitchens were out. Country kitchens were in. And each one came complete with gleaming Gaffers & Sattler appliances—something Laura Petrie would approve.

Ad for Crestview from August 9, 1964 with kitchen bar inside Plan 3.

Like many others "escaping" big cities, Crestview offered relaxed, gracious living in the quiet country. What could be more surprising than fixing a pitcher of fresh and delicious lemonade, only to find your man fast asleep. He played a good game.

Fix yourself a pitcher of lemonade, a 1964 ad suggested, and escape to quiet country. That is, until your husband passed out from too much golf.

Where tiki roofs meet tract homes

Nestled on Belinda Court, Crestview’s model home complex boasted five floor plans and a dizzying 24 different exterior elevations—because no two neighbors wanted to look too alike. Designed by Development Coordinators of Fullerton, these homes weren’t afraid to have a little fun with form. Some even sported Polynesian-style rooflines, giving them just a kiss of tiki flair. You half-expected a flaming torch by the driveway.

Site of the Crestview model homes.

Let’s take a peek at the fab five:

1. The Plan 1 - 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, 1,368 sq. ft. A modest marvel. This classic California ranch offered clean lines, a simple layout, and just enough space to grow.

The original Plan 1 model today.

2. The Hampton - 4 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, 1,623 sq. ft. A home of illusions! It appeared to be a single story from the street—but surprise! It was a two-story layout. It charmed buyers with its subtle grandeur and cleverly disguised height.

The original Hampton model today.

Fan favorite alternative elevation of a Hampton.

3. The Plan 3 - 4 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, 1,427 sq. ft. Now this was the car lover’s dream. The garage didn’t face the street—it was tucked off to the side, making room for an extra-long driveway. Translation? Room for six cars. Whether you were collecting Thunderbirds or hosting driveway luaus, Plan 3 had your back.

The original Plan 3 model today.

Plan 3 from May 24, 1964.

Fan favorite alternative elevation with unique angle.

4. The Brentwood - 4 or 5 bedrooms, 2.5 bathrooms, 1,711+ sq. ft. The flagship estate of Crestview. Big, beautiful, and offered in multiple elevations, this home could be expanded to suit growing families or those with grander dreams. It was the showstopper.

The original Brentwood model today (expanded).

Fan favorite alternative elevation of a Brentwood.

5. The Plan 5- 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, 1,220 sq. ft. The most compact of the crew, but never lacking charm. Ideal for young families or downsizing couples, it kept things efficient and cozy, with an emphasis on smart design.

The original Plan 5 model today.

The final chapter: not quite 500

Although H.C. Elliott planned for over 500 homes, the final build-out wrapped in August 1966 with fewer than 200 completed. The dream was slightly downsized, but the magic lingered. Eventually, a 45-acre parcel originally earmarked for Crestview was sold to Brown & Kauffmann, who would go on to build the Walnut Hills neighborhood just next door.

Legacy in the quiet country

Today, Crestview still whispers the story of a golden moment in San Ramon’s past—a time when the suburbs weren’t just about space, but about possibility. Where every front door opened onto a promise: a fresh start, a friendly street, a quiet evening with jazz on the radio and the kids running around the yard.

The spirit of Crestview lives on—in angled garages, Tiki rooftops, and memories of a neighborhood where the country club was just down the road and dinner was always served with a side of optimism.