I posted this because this medical building has been razed the last time I was in Duarte. I always loved the ranch-style building itself. It was built in 1954 and was still in good condition when I shot this. But maybe the new owner is using it for higher rents, like condos or a multiple-level medical building. Who knows?
Michael Chapman found the video on YouTube and wrote,
There was a Restaurant close by owned by musician/entertainer, ‘Brook Brown who use to entertain at His Restaurant on Fri & Sat evenings on the N side of Huntington Dr. some may recall…
I never knew Brook Brown, but I do recall a fellow Duartean, Lance Miller, mentioning him in a comment back in 2020. Back on December 8, 2020, he wrote,
Hi Mike, I sure enjoy reading your recollections. I’ve inquired about the Van Halen/Duarte connection many times on the net. They played several times in Duarte at the casino and Barnacles, I remember the slightly older kids from Third St- Donald Ross, Jeff Goldsmith, Debbie & Donna Parker- all went to see them at the Casino but I was too timid. Oh well. Barnacle Bills became ‘Brooke Brown’s Cabaret Club’ [located @ 1846 Huntington Drive] which apparently became a fixture of the late ’70s-early ’80s country-rock scene…Dwight Yoakum has talked about that place on his SiriusXM radio shows. It’s funny to read your recollections and it sure brings back memories…I occasionally drive through Duarte but can hardly find any remnants from my memories so it’s nice to have your blog.
Duarte, CA 
Its been so long since I drove thru I didn’t know that medical building was gone now. Thoughout the ’70s my childhood dentist was there and all the fillings in my head were installed there…back in the day when I would get home from Royal Oaks/Andres Duarte and my mom would inform me of my 3:30 appointment where then I would (foolishly) dutifully ride my stingray down there to get my head drilled on. Ah good times!
Thank you for that, Lance. Those memories are searing for sure.
Kids endure a lot.
Funny how we transfer the trust of a doctor (someone who spares us from pain and disease) onto dentists who explore the recesses of candied destruction with an array of inscrutable tools laid out on an arm of his dental chair. Too many things in these places seemed to dispossess us of any self-defense.
My dentist was Dr. Eagan on Buena Vista just north of the library. He had two young flattering (and insincere) assistants, like Bond villains trying to distract me from some imminent torture. Though his building was probably built in the late 50s, early 60s, it had an eugenics era feel to it. From his chair, my reclined view through the narrow blinds out onto Buena Vista was of an occasional pedestrian and the consoling, familiar sounds of traffic.