Tales of the City

I was working on a friend’s film yesterday in San Francisco.

I wrapped a little early and decided I wasn’t ready to go home yet, so I became a local tourist and went looking for geocaches in the Pacific Heights neighborhood.

Mrs. Doubtfire House

I’ve lived in the Bay Area my whole life, but I never knew where this house was.

Beautiful Views

I saw a group of kids getting out of school nearby, too young to be aware of their privilege yet. It’s not their fault that their parents have given them this amazing opportunity. I wonder how old they will be when they realize what a beautiful city they live in.

I was pretty tired by then, but with the days so short and only an hour left of light, I decided to find one more geocache in one more tourist spot.

Crooked Lombard Street

Then I drove by the “Tales of the City- Barbary Lane” location in Russian Hill, but by that point it was already dark. Next time.

I decided to head back to Oakland and got stuck in traffic in the Financial District. It’s been years since I have been stuck in traffic in the Financial District. I reminisce about it in my current one-woman-show, “All the Great New Things to Come“.

“It’s 1999 and I’m working in San Francisco on the corner of First and Mission Streets. South of Market is packed with budding new businesses. It’s “dotcom” this and “dotcom” that, run by Gen Xers like me. Wait a minute, when did we become in charge? Now every day is Casual Sunday! You’re welcome.“

“And by 3:30, horns are honking as cars crawl up First Street on the way to the Bay Bridge. But I don’t have to deal with that because I take BART. Well, sometimes I take AC Transit, the C Bus will drop me off right across the street at the terminal. Occasionally I drive and park in an insanely expensive parking garage nearby…”

The dotcom bubble burst and we wondered if the city would recover. It did and then years later Covid hit and we wondered again. Well, if its recovery can be measured in traffic, San Franciso is going to be alright.

Earthquake Country

“I was born in 1893. And to have known San Francisco in the horse and buggy age. Then to have looked down on it from a hilltop, while flames were rising high from its buildings. Then to have walked through its ashes after the 1906 earthquake, with my father, a proper permit, and a stick. Probing the ashes of the very house I had just lived in a short time before.” – A letter written from my Great Grandma Katie

At 05:12 AM Pacific Standard Time on Wednesday, April 18, 1906, the coast of Northern California was struck by a major earthquake with an estimated moment magnitude of 7.9 and a maximum Mercalli intensity of XI (Extreme). High-intensity shaking was felt from Eureka on the North Coast to the Salinas Valley, an agricultural region to the south of the San Francisco Bay Area. Devastating fires soon broke out in San Francisco and lasted for several days. More than 3,000 people died and over 80% of the city was destroyed. The event is remembered as the deadliest earthquake in the history of the United States. The death toll remains the greatest loss of life from a natural disaster in California’s history and high on the list of worst American disasters.

I guess you can say I grew up in earthquake country. We had earthquake drills every year in school, there’s a soccer team named “The Earthquakes”, and I even lived through a big one back in October of 1989. I was 19 years old then and had only experienced small tremors up to that point, so when I felt the earth move yet once again, I thought nothing of it, but then it kept going and my instincts kicked in as I ran to the backroom of the chocolate store I was working at, and got under the table. When it was over, the only damage our store had was one glass jar of chocolate syrup had fallen off the shelf, broke, and spilled everywhere. That was it. I calmly cleaned it up as my friend Charlotte who was working a few shops down at “Just Closets” came running in laughing. We had no idea how bad it was yet. We didn’t have social media. It wasn’t until I was driving home, that I begin to notice that all the lights in Downtown Walnut Creek were either not working or blinking. Then I got home and turned on the news.

I have grown up hearing others say that they could never live here “because of the earthquakes”, but big ones are so incredibly rare. I love it here. The SF Bay Area is beautiful, and I love fog. I’m never leaving. This will always be home.

Friday, April 18, 2025:

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Day 213 -This is Where We Live

The first half of my day started out chill, and then, BAM, I got three Zoom meetings lined up for the week and one of them is an all-dayer. When will the virtual madness end?

I know, I know, I should be grateful to have a job. I am. Don’t mind me, this warm weather is making me crazy. That’s right, slap me now, the spoiled Californian.

Today after work, I stopped at the store and then had to pick up something in a different neighborhood from my local “Buy Nothing” group on Facebook. I decided to peruse the area a bit longer because it had a partial view of the sunset and then, I made a right turn and realized that I knew exactly where I was. I was back in one of my favorite sunset spots. I pulled over and there it was…..

I love it when things work out.

As I stood there taking pictures, with two bags of perishable groceries waiting for me in my car, I overheard a couple stop and admire the sunset. The man said to the woman, “Yup, this is where we live.”

Amen.

Monday, October 12, 2020:

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Day 180- So Many Fires

I woke up this morning and it was somewhat dark. So I laid in bed waiting for the sun to come out, but it never did.

I got up, walked down the hill to get my iced coffee and take my morning walk. They sky was a faded burnt orange and the sun was nowhere to be found. “How will the animals know it’s morning,” I thought.

The birds figured it out and chirped a little here and there. They were up. But the squirrels?

Nada. Nothing. Not a peep. It was a squirrel-less morning. I didn’t see any cats roaming around either. It was desolate. Quiet. Creepy.

I avoided the dog park, (which I normally walk through every morning), because it has so much shade that I would have needed a flashlight to walk through it and it just felt a bit eerie.

I came home and felt so unmotivated to do anything. But really, if I am being honest, I feel unmotivated a lot already and have learned to push past it. So between work emails I went to the dry cleaners and Walgreens, washed the dishes, vacuumed, and begin to assess what new small furniture pieces I would need in my studio apartment as I watched an online auction at a local antique shop. And then tonight I walked down the hill to get some pictures of the lake against an apocalyptic backdrop, but the orange hues had disappeared and it just looked like another cloudy day.

There are so many fires going on that I am having trouble tracking them all. 2020 has been an exhausting one.

September 9, 2020:

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