Throughout his career as a teacher in Chicago, Jorgensen studied urban history and urban civilization development, until he became an authority on the subject. Recognizing patterns which communities have developed from, he was intrigued by the illogical existence of the San Fernando Valley, due primarily to its desert location and arid characteristics.

Finally, an extended vacation to visit a brother in North Hollywood led to a fifteen-year-long after career of college teaching, lecturing, political activism, and exploration into the history of the San Fernando Valley.

An ironic twist of fate sent Jorgensen along the pathway to his most recent literary effort. The San Fernando Valley: Past and Present, but he didn’t have any idea about it at the time. While taking life easy after suffering a heart attack in 1969, much of his time was spent in the instructional media department of the college. At the suggestion of another instructor. Jorgensen became involved in the prospect of making a movie about the valley.

Hoping to create a visual collection of history, Jorgensen spent countless hours in the libraries of the Valley newspapers, gathering names, dates and places which were prominent in the historical development of the San Fernando Valley. He read microfilmed copies of newspapers dating back to 1887 in an effort to pick up some sort of pattern of Valley development. Delving into the archives of reference libraries and research books. Jorgensen’s queries turned up interesting information about land developers and speculators, farmers and Indians.

The seeds had been planted. It was now time to sow the field.

Jorgensen organized groups of interested students and set upon the task of interviewing the people he had read about. The interviews were taped and assembled into a reference system. A "sort of slide show" was later enhanced with a sound track system then eventually, escalated into a video program. Lack of funding destined the collection of video tapes to be limited to only one, but many oral cassettes were made and filed away for later use.

Jorgensen also collected copies of old newspaper ads and authentic photographs dating back to the early days of the San Fernando Valley, knowing that someday, for some reason, that invaluable collection of facts, figures and memorabilia would serve some highly useful purpose. That purpose finally materialized three years ago.

"There was this incredibly short span of 200 years in which literally all facets of American history were capsulated in a place that never should have been a town at all. I knew my days where were numbered. My family had all left the Valley. I wanted to give them all some gift. So I thought about all the stored information and all of the untold stories that were left to tell. And I wanted something that would last. I’ve read books that are 2000 years old but are still relatable to modern times. I guess one of the advantages of being an historian (maybe the only reason with the job market the way it is today) is that you know what lasts. I can see themes that keep reoccurring. I designed this book so that if it is the only thing they find, 500 years from now, they will know what life was like here, and who the people were, and they will know an important truth about this place and these people."

Although involved in each aspect of the publication, Jorgensen is not writing The San Fernando Valley: Past and Present by himself. The 25,000 or so words written by him constitute only half of the book. The remaining ten chapters represent a collage of writers, poets and other artists who were hand picked because of their expertise in their knowledge of certain aspects of Valley life.

Initially, he had thought of doing the book single-handed, but admitted that it "quickly became not such a good idea." Apart from the impossibility of becoming an expert on everything there is to know about a place. Jorgensen explicitly stated that he had no desire to become the world’s leading authority on the San Fernando Valley. He believes that once an author has covered all the material that he has a personal interest in, the remaining information that would be of interest to others and should be woven into the book, should be done by people who are involved in those matters. Otherwise the work becomes just that: dull and uninteresting work.

In an effort to keep the book at the level of integrity he had in mind, Jorgensen set certain criteria for the people who would be involved in it. The first rule was that each person would have to be from the Valley. Not necessarily born there, but had been there long enough to write accurately and with feeling about the place. Each other participant had to have special sensitivities about the Valley and the subject he or she would write about, draw or photograph. No fake substitutions would do. That is the reason that there are many intricate portions of the San Fernando story that have been left out. When the right person for a particular segment could not be found, that part was simply omitted.

But what about the real live people he did find to fill the available places? All that was needed were folks who were interested in writing and being arty for someone else’s book. And of course, they had to meet all the aforementioned requirements. And they had to be honest, reliable, talented.

Did such people exist? Yes, yes they did, and they were willing to help. How were such people discovered? As Jorgensen openly admits, "When you’ve been bumming around the same place for as many years as I have as an observer, an historian and a barhopper, you meet a lot of people. And you talk to them. And you can sense the real people from the phony ones."

He has known most of them for a long time. Many are close friends.

And they are really experts on what they have crafted. For example, the curator of the San Fernando Valley Historical Society is doing the part on historic sites. The chapter which deals with water from the Owens Valley is written by a woman who wrote an entire book on the same material. One woman writer is using an assumed name, as the information she relates is so powerful it could cost her job if she were identified. The list goes on and on.

With such an impressive group of people contributing to this book, one might think that would be enough of a reason for not making it a single-handed effort. But there was an even better reason for it, insists Jorgensen. A variety of approaches and styles would heavily contribute to the validity of the representation of the many different Valleyites. It really just seemed the most logical thing to do.

When asked about the other people who are helping with the book, Jorgensen likes to refer to a story about the Balinese people who had no word in their language which could be translated into the English word "art." But they believed that everything they did, they should do as well as they possibly could. Thus, their way of life was art. And that makes honest work, done with care and feeling, art. He then concludes that all the people working on the books are artists, even if they don’t know it. Jorgensen comments on the paste-up and layout design man, among others. "He is probably the most talented artist of all, but thinks he is the least." Maybe humility was required too, because egocentrism was definitely out.

The BLA - BLA CAFE in Studio City: This was the plece, THE PLACE, 1960s - 1970s.

Besides overseeing each step of the production, giving birth to new ideas, copyreading, correcting work and sometimes arguing with writers about rewriting certain passages of the text. Jorgensen’s written work in the book is somewhere around 25,000 words. And just where were all of these words written? All over the place, he says -- at home, in bars. "I write a lot in bars. You get used to the light, but it really isn’t necessary to see the lines on the paper. I just write what I see and feel. I get special feelings in bars. Besides a place to relax and mellow out when I’m writing about the city, I have to be right in the center of it. A bar can contain bits and pieces of the city that can’t be found anywhere else. And all kinds of interesting people can be met in bars, too."

But his writing does not conform to the limits of dimly lit cabarets and his home "office." He claims he will write anywhere if the mood hits him. His mini pick-up truck and camper house a veteran World War II typewriter, lots of paper, pens, pencils, and a horde of other necessities which enable him to write at his leisure. The little truck has covered the Santa Monica Mountains, Owens Valley, the Verdugo Hills, all the Valley boulevards, Mulholland Drive, the San Gabriels and just about "any place that a person with a little truck could go."

One place he does not write in is a library -- he feels they are for research. And photocopying and manuscripts are available from people who have gone through secret documents. Jorgensen relies heavily upon these things, but only for reference. He states clearly that he is not trying to be an expert in the archives of the real estate corporations or the Department of Water and Power.

Although he considers the book as a "fun" thing to do, it is work just the same – not tedious work, but time consuming and tiring, at the least.

Does a book like this create many major problems? Did it ever get to be such a drag that he considered the entire business to experience? "Well, if I had known...yeah. And I’m tired. It is a lot of work trying to make it permanent. It’s fun, but if I didn’t have to do all of the other things I do, like teaching, lecturing, taking care of my businesses, breathing...they all take energy -- and time. I can’t visit my family. My granddaughter is mad at me for not being there more often, I just can’t put it down until it’s finished."

So he could have made it a simpler book, right? Wrong. He intended, from the very beginning, that the book would be a work of art. His feelings delve into history as being art itself, and he wanted the book to be a publishing event. He balks at the aspiration of winning any prizes or awards. It isn’t that type of book. Finances limit the four color separations to the cover and to certain types of binding. But the paper is "real nice" and the work is top quality.

The book, coming out this summer, is intended for the reading pleasure of each and every San Fernando Valleyite. It won’t be endorsed at staff meetings of the real estate corporations, nor will it make any friends with the Chamber of Commerce. It is definitely not a public relations trap. The book is really for everybody, but it is mainly for the people of the San Fernando Valley. "This is a chapter of my life that is going to be finished. In a way, it is a chapter in their lives, too, because things are really going to change now."

Good teaching is an honest, flowing idea, and this book is just that. "The book is good teaching – at least I hope so. That’s what books should be. I don’t think we should cut down trees for anything less than that."

GREG & JOYCE McCLURE'S "SWING"; the Valley's hottest spot, 1966 - 1976, Studio City, Ventura Blvd.