Reflections on Visit to Bay Area 2010

I’ve needed to wait this long, to allow time for some internal, inner “settling” to take place & to know that, when I write, I would do so without tears – or, at least, not many tears. In my blog, I noted that I already carry “enough nostalgia.” So this will be a much more sober, reflective post than previous ones have been.

First, some observations: The effects of the CA financial crisis are evident in the Bay Area: Poorly maintained streets & sidewalks; grassy areas between the streets & sidewalks not maintained at all; crosswalks that need painting left unpainted. Still, even with all of that, no surprise – most of everything was so familiar; much of “my” Bay Area was still there. It was a shock that buildings that once housed the Southern Province Dominicans had been torn down. It was a surprise that a huge – and architecturally strange & unmatching – addition had been built by JSTB, connected to its main building on LeRoy. Otherwise, most of the buildings that meant anything to me had remained, even if they now had new uses, e.g., the building that once housed the Center for Women & Religion at the GTU now houses --- I know not what. The old GTU administration building is still there on Le Conte, however, the consortium closed the bookstore some time ago, something that I really regret. Still, & to my delight, the PSR campus was the same – no new buildings had been built – and Newman Hall / Holy Spirit Parish, namely the sanctuary, was, of course, as it had been since its beginning. No surprise there – there’s not much one could do to it to alter it, with its poured concrete walls & its bound-to-the-floor altar, ambo, & presider’s chair.

Other places, routes, sights, made me feel at home very quickly. The Oakland Coliseum, where I went a number of times with Sandee Yarlott, Ron Stief, and Ryan Albaugh (Sandee’s son) to watch the Oakland A’s (and cheer for the Boston Red Sox, if they Sox were the opponent); Lake Merritt in Oakland; the Lutheran Church on College Ave in Berkeley; my old apartment building at College & Stuart & the 7-11 Store at College & Russell where I used to go when I’d run out of cigarettes. At least a couple of “head shops” still survive on Telegraph Avenue, although most of the restaurants I recall no longer exist, including the super-cheap soup place that I first ate in in the summer of 1972. Northside Travel on Euclid Avenue is still in business, which is great; Café Espresso, which Kevin Flaherty, SJ, & I called Café Depresso, on Hearst, one of my main hang-outs during seminary, has been replaced by a copy center. The Mrs. See’s Candies on Shattuck Avenue in Downtown Berkeley is no longer there. I’m not sure whether the Edy’s Ice Cream Shop is still there on Shattuck, but I don’t think so. I have fond memories of breaking my Good Friday fast there one year with Kevin in 1983 after he returned to the US from a 3 week sojourn on the Honduran border in an El Salvadoran refugee camp during the civil war in El Salvador. During that war, after Bianca Jagger argued with a Salvadoran solder and won her argument – so that he left in the camp the young man the soldier intended to take with him, forcing him into the army – “internationals” were going to the refugee camps to protect the refugees from being kidnapped by the Salvadoran military.

When we passed Berkeley High School, Scott assured me that the theater remains in operation – I’d been to concerts by both Joan Baez & Holly Near there. And of course, the UC Berkeley Campus remains beautiful, although I noticed at least 2 new buildings already built & at least more in process. Eventually, there will be no green space left on the campus. It was wonderful to discover new places, especially Mariposa Baking Company, a 100% gluten-free bakery in Oakland! Finally, it felt so wonderful to look out onto the San Francisco Bay, to see its famous Golden Gate and Bay Bridges, and to look up into the East Bay hills, already in their summer gold. Whenever I look out to those hills, I think of one of my favorite Psalms, one I’ve known and prayed since childhood. “I will lift mine eyes unto the hills; from whence cometh my help? My help cometh from the LORD Who made heaven and earth. G-D will not allow your foot to be moved; your guardian does not sleep. Behold, the guardian of Israel never slumbers nor sleeps.” (Ps. 121:1-4)

I felt at home immediately, as if I’d never been away, as if I’d never left, as if there had been no hiatus of nearly 23 year. Oh yes, much had changed. • For one, the advent of computers & such changed how many ordinary & not so ordinary tasks are done. That was especially obvious at the GTU Library. • For another, in San Francisco more than in the East Bay many changes had resulted from the 1989 Loma Prieta Earthquake. The new San Francisco Public library, for one. I didn’t take the time to go into the Tenderloin to see Saint Boniface Church; it had sustained quite a bit of damage from thence been restored. It was one of the places I would often go to pray after work when I worked at St. Joseph’s Hospital in San Francisco in the 1970’s.

• And people. Of course, people. It was so wonderful to see the friends I saw, talk with the friends with whom I had the opportunity to talk. Many people I’d known were no longer there; they had taken new positions, retired, graduated, died. Several with whom I’d been friends shortly before I left I had no idea of their whereabouts. Robert McAfee Brown had died nearly 9 years earlier; Margot Lucoff, although I hadn’t been I contact with her for nearly 10 years, had died in 2004, something I didn’t know until last summer. However, had she not died, I would have tried to get in touch with her. Gary Adams & David Coe moved to Houston not too many years after I moved to Boston. Many of the other faculty I knew were no longer there. And Kevin had left, as had all of his Jesuit classmates. But Kevin had been gone since the middle to the end of the summer of 1984, relocating to Chicago & a parish assignment before returning to Peru. And although he’d been gone since ’84, although he’d been in Berkeley for fewer than 4 years – fewer than 4 years of my 14 years – although when I left the Bay Area, he & I hadn’t been in contact with each other for more than 2 years, it was still so different being there, especially on Northside & out & about the streets we used to walk, without Kevin being there as well.

But so much felt so right & so much the same. Being around there in a wheelchair proved no problem at all – no surprise. The friendliness of the people. The casual goofiness, ease, nonchalance. The reality that people still are not in a hurry á la the East Coast. The ease with which conversations with strangers began & took off, taking all sorts of directions. The immediate understanding when I told someone I’d lived there for 14 years, had been in New England for the past 23.5 years, had always missed the Bay Area & was making plans to return. That was something everyone understood.

It was – it is – home. Correction: It was – it is -- & it will again be home.

While I was there, I cried a log. And lots caused my tears. Familiar signs, sights, vistas; familiar streets. Once the myriad of memories connected to all of those, I cried for the sheer joy of being back and the joy of seeing my friends. And I cried over the losses – people I missed, bad decisions I had made, hurt I had caused.

I cried because I’d missed the place & places so much, loved it so much, made such an unwise decision to leave, failed to make the wise decision to return when return would have been possible…and I know that, no matter how much I want to move back, that won’t be possible for quite some time.

So, for now, I am here in Hartford. I am staying to help my mother & to write. How long I will stay is in G-D’s hands, & it is equally a blessing to leave it there. Eventually, I will be back on the West Coast, back where I belong, back where my life will feel fully & truly at home, complete, fully integrated. For just as I’ve known since age 14 that I wanted to be a Catholic, I’ve known since about that same age that I wanted to be a Californian. My decision in 1978 seemed wise at the time, but it wasn’t; it was made in pain, in grief, in frustration, in near-desperation. Now, my being in Hartford is good, because it helps my mother at a time when she needs my help, gives us a chance to be closer, & gives me the time, place, & opportunity to write. Beyond that, I will leave all of it in G-D’s hands, where it all belongs.