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Print Shaped like a shoebox, the small room on Adams Avenue was a modest venue. Old photos and posters covered the walls; fold-out metal chairs lined the floor for the audience. . Usually a dog could be spotted roaming about or sleeping at the entrance. But to its devoted regulars, Lestat’s West was something magical. Singer-songwriters describe it as an “almost church-like atmosphere, without the stuffiness” that served as a sanctuary for San Diego artists. Some nights were reminiscent...