Postcard from San Francisco

Sometimes I’m fascinated with my fascination of walking through my past. I don’t do it often, but when I do, I want to understand why.

So here I was again in one of my favorite cities in the world, San Francisco…which also happens to be my hometown. I was born and raised here.

My father was born and raised here.

My grandmother was born and raised here.

My grandfather was born in Walla Walla, WA…but he had the good sense to move here, then marry my grandmother. The City took him to its bosom.

Oh, and lest I forget my own mother…she moved to San Francisco right off an Oregon farm…so The City adopted her also, even before she married a native.

So you see, I have every right to call The City my hometown. PS: It’s called “The City” by everyone who lives in and around San Francisco…and that means millions of folks. Wanderers like me who leave San Francisco still call it The City because it is THE CITY. There is no other.

And if a native ever hears you refer to it as San Fran or, God forbid, Frisco, be prepared to have your throat cut. It’s THE CITY. Get used to it.

Back in the late 40’s and 50’s, when my mother had a hankering to visit her family back on the farm, we needed to get from San Francisco to Oakland to catch Southern Pacific’s Shasta Daylight train (now that was a great ride).

The best way then, if you wanted to leave your car at home, was to take a ferry boat across San Francisco Bay. This trip began at the Ferry Building at the water’s edge on what is known as the Embarcadero. As a young boy, it was the only time I ever sailed on a ship (OK it’s a boat). 

My father would take me by the hand through the Ferry Building, purchase our tickets, then lead me out to the docks and on to the ferry boat. How well I remember, standing outside on the bow feeling the wind as I watched The City shrink from view. Seeing The City from The Bay…now that was a sight!

Over the years, I’ve been around the Embarcadero and the Ferry Building many times, but this was the first time since I was a child that I ventured inside. It was nothing like I remembered…probably because it was renovated in 2003. Probably a good thing since it has been there since 1898 and has survived numerous earthquakes.    

The lower floor, once a baggage area, is now an upscale gourmet marketplace, while the upper floors were adapted for offices. Too bad it wasn’t like that when I was a kid…would have loved to board the ferry with a Peet’s coffee in hand.

The ferries still run, although not the same ones from my childhood. Much more modern ones now. I know, because this time I did get a Peet’s coffee and sat out on the docks, resting my weary legs and watching the commuters make their way on to their respective ships (sorry, boats).

So, what did I get from visiting this part of my past? Not much, really. Most of the memories of those days are listed above. Did I feel the ghosts of my parents walking with me? Nope, sorry. It was just another place from my past. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t happy to be there. I do love most all things San Francisco. Did I mention it is my hometown?

 

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