How Ice Cream Pushed Clint Eastwood Into Politics

Once upon a time, a California seaside city oozing with storybook charm was slapped with the most bah-humbug of laws: No more ice cream cones—or so it seemed. Despite the layers behind the legislation, its idyllic reputation was tarnished with the new moniker “Scrooge City.” That is, until a Hollywood movie star swooped in to bring the sweet treats back to its charming streets. 

In a nutshell, that is what appeared to have happened in Carmel-by-the-Sea in the 1980s, when none other than Clint Eastwood became the city’s real-life ice cream action hero. But that story’s not exactly the full scoop. 

“It wasn't an actual ban on ice cream cones,” Katie O’Connell, Carmel Public Library’s local history librarian says. The story is more complex. 

Carmel-by-the-Sea—known colloquially as Carmel—sits on one of central California’s most dramatic sections, where serene white sand beaches contrast with craggy cliffs. Long before its official incorporation in 1916, the land was home to the Indigenous Esselen and Ohlone tribes. Spanish explorers first arrived in the 1600s and Father Junipero Serra founded a California mission there in 1771.

Though just a cozy 1.1 square miles, Carmel’s natural beauty drew a population of writers and artists seeking inspiration and relaxation. Authors Jack London and George Sterling were among its early residents, while Robert Louis Stevenson was believed to have walked near Point Lobos when the idea for Treasure Island took shape. In the 1920s, English country-style cottages designed by architect Hugh Comstock were added to its streets, cinching in its whimsical reputation. 

Along with its paradisal lifestyle arose a natural conundrum. As more people yearned for a piece of its magic, development skyrocketed, threatening the small-town charm that made Carmel so alluring. To preserve its lifestyle, the city started developing a “reputation for unusual restrictions, some of which have been considered excessive or frivolous,” O’Connell says. 

Among them: no street addresses, chain restaurants, parking meters or street lights—all of which are still enforced today.

But growth was inevitable. In 1984, the city drafted a General Plan to address residents' concerns that an influx of businesses and tourists was eroding Carmel’s residential life, write Harold and Ann Gilliam in Creating Carmel: The Enduring Vision.

The overall priority was to reduce the commercial district in size "wherever possible,” especially when it came to take-out food, which was seen as catering more to tourists than locals. While the new ordinances grandfathered existing businesses, they came into effect when new ones applied for permits. So, when two fast-food chains lost their leases, a shoe store went in their place.

“The story would have ended there,” the Gilliams write, “if the shoe merchant hadn’t also applied to open a take-out ice cream shop in the same building.” Their application was denied for violating Carmel’s new take-out policy—further reinforced by a water-use ordinance.

Despite the nuances, the story caught national attention. Television networks aired a 10-second news spot declaring that Carmel had outlawed ice cream cones, cementing it with the moniker, “Scrooge City,” according to a Los Angeles Times story in 1985. 

Carmel was so horrified by flash headlines that the city organized “lick-in” events, in which free cones were distributed. Even so, the incident became known as the “ice cream flap,” and fit perfectly into the storyline of Carmel's reputation at the time for unusual strictness, O’Connell explains.

Sitting on the sidelines was actor and director Clint Eastwood, already a longtime Hollywood celebrity. He had first come upon Carmel in the 1950s as an army recruit stationed in the former Fort Ord. Soon it became his “adopted hometown,” as he bought a multipurpose building on San Carlos Street, where he established the Hog’s Breath Inn restaurant in 1970. (He later sold it to a friend in 1999.) His directorial debut, Play Misty for Me (1971), had also been filmed in the area.

But even a Hollywood star wasn’t immune to restrictive city ordinances. In the mid-1980s, he struggled through 18 months of negotiations with city officials on permits. He eventually grew so frustrated that he sued Carmel, accusing the politicians of trying to control the residents’ lives, the Gilliams write. Though his permits did eventually come through, the ordeal left an impression, and the action star pulled his most surprising act yet: announcing his candidacy for mayor in January 1986.

The thrill of a movie star becoming a small-city mayor clearly worked on the citizens of Carmel. Eastwood won by a landslide, securing 2,166 votes, compared to the incumbent Charlotte Townsend, who garnered only 799. (The population was just below 3,200 people).

It was seeing that 1985 LA Times story with the headline “Scrooge City?” that really did him in, reported Monterey County's The Herald newspaper in January 1988. Among Eastwood’s first orders of business was getting rid of the “non-existent ban on ice-cream cones,” as the Gilliams refer to it, and allow Chocolate Dreams to open and sell take-away gelato. “Many of Eastwood’s actions as mayor seemed to bear out the contentions of supporters who said that what Carmel needed was someone who could cut the red tape and get things done,” they write.

Mayor Eastwood’s loosening of the restriction did lead to an intentional change in Carmel, with more construction and development than in past eras. But O’Connell says an “accidental impact” also came along with his office as “Eastwood’s fame put Carmel even more firmly on the world map.” 

During his campaign, “Make My Day” buttons and other memorabilia had started popping up in town, according to The San Francisco Chronicle. His association with the area became such a big draw that the Hyatt Regency hotel in nearby Monterey even changed their slogan to “Make My Stay,” the Lodi News-Sentinel reported. 

But the mayor was not amused. “I don't like any of it,” Eastwood told The Carmel Pine Cone weekly paper in the early days of his mayorship, according to The New York Times. “To me, Carmel is not Clint-ville.” 

Despite his fame factor clouding his term, Eastwood was a fully hands-on mayor, attending every regular city council meeting, listening to residents’ concerns and even writing a column for the Pine Cone. In interviews with longtime residents, O’Connell notes that tourism had been steadily increasing since the 1960s and that the influx of celebrity attention may have amplified it.

Today, ice cream cones are a non-partisan issue in Carmel, and Scrooge-like antics are a thing of the past. “While urban lore paints accomplishments of Eastwood's one and only two-year term as frivolous...the truth is that many of his mayoral accomplishments have left an indelible mark on Carmel-by-the-Sea,” says O'Connell. She adds that Eastwood’s footprint can be seen throughout the city, like the library’s Park Branch annex, additional public restrooms on Carmel Beach and support for the arts. 

“It's easy to draw a throughline from some of the things then Mayor Clint Eastwood was passionate about to the things travelers love most about Carmel today,” says Amy Herzog, executive director at Visit Carmel.