In the Beginning.....

What better place to start than way back where I began! My father turns 82 tomorrow and wanted to take a ride through all his old haunts in Oakland. The problem being, Oakland is not what it used to be and is downright dangerous where we were going. Several people told us not to go due to violence and drive by shootings on a regular basis.

BUT never being ones to listen well, we set off this morning for a 3 hour journey into the past. My son, Darrin, drove, I navigated, and my father provided the recollections. Sure it would wipe out three generations of our family if the worst happened, but we figured it would make headline news. We planned well - doing this on a Sunday morning when all the gangbangers and low lifes were still sleeping from the night before. We avoided anything red or blue, just in case there were Crips or Bloods, and briefly considered taking my dad's tree trimming saw on a six foot pole as a weapon. That was pure genius since it has a foot long blade and we could wield it from six feet away. In the end, we left the saw at home since that seemed just a bit too extreme.

Fortunately we all lived to tell about it with no incidents or close calls. We did get glared at a couple times. I even took a few pictures to share. This is the house where my dad grew up on 9th Avenue. He estimates it to be around 100 years old. It was still in pretty good shape having been repaired and painted quite a few times. 

We drove a few blocks away to the apartment where my parents lived when I was born. I'd never seen it before or even knew where it was. It is the upstairs unit on the right with the red decorations on the porch directly below the International Street (old East 14th Street) sign.

From there we headed to East Oakland, a bad part of town. Both of my grandparents lived a block apart when I was a little kid. My family thought nothing of my sister and I walking from one house to the other back in the 50s. At the first inkling of trouble, my Grandma Hattie and Grandpa Harry sold their house on Arthur Street and high-tailed it to San Ramon. Nannie and Grandpa Frank stayed way too long on Plymouth Avenue. I won't post the reason but many of you know why. This is a lighthearted drive down memory lane not a place for sad stories from long ago. But I will share it with anyone who asks.

 

Nannie's House



Grandma Hattie's House



 

For me the highlight of the trek was Jerry's Hamburger stand. Back in the 50s pretty much EVERY weekend we would pile in the green and white Chevy station wagon then drive to Jerry's for dinner. It was an old "drive in" but you had to walk up to the window to order. My sister and I always got a hot dog and my parents got hamburgers that we would sit in the car and eat. They really tasted good! This morning just as we were about to conclude that it must have been torn down, we rounded the corner and there it was in all its glory! It looked exactly the same as we both remembered it. My father remembered lots of little details that were still in place - complete with the sign that read "Since 1953". It was closed on Sundays but open the other days. Darrin said we have to come back and eat here sometime. I wholeheartedly seconded that motion!

And so, my Travels Near & Far, begins back in Oakland where both my dad and I were born. Traveling has become somewhat of a passion for me the second half of my life thanks in part to Lou, my life partner, significant other, boyfriend, poosslq (Person Of Opposite Sex Sharing Living Quarters) - we have to find a better word for permanent relationships that aren't marriages. But "travels" can be around the block, to the next city, in your mind or the other side of the world. I hope to explore them all in the years to come.