If you look beyond the shadows on Second Avenue in San Francisco, you can see and hear all the kids playing in the neighborhood, the special screech we’d made to one another to signal that we were outside and ready to play. Was it fate that brought us all together, or was it just coincidence?
The last time I walked through the old neighborhood, all the buildings looked the same, the various old flats and apartment buildings crammed in with old houses – the flats built in the early 1900’s. I knew every nook and cranny on Second Avenue and on Hugo Street around the corner, Lincoln Way. I can still remember them to this day. Now huge trees shade Second Avenue, tall trees with branches stretching out, casting more shadows on the street.
I still remember when we helped to plant those trees, around 1967 or 1968. It had to do with some ecological beautifying project. Second Avenue had wide sidewalks but no trees. But we kids loved the wide sidewalks which gave us loads of room to play, especially when we were riding bikes, skateboards, scooters, whatever set of wheels we could come up with.
We already knew about planting seeds because the crazy scientist who lived downstairs from us in the garden apartment, Mr. Fentley, with the wild hair and beard that jutted out, had showed us how to plant our own gardens. Mr. Fentley had introduced us to the world of nature. He took us kids out in the backyard and showed us various types of bugs, including a spittle bug that would literally live in its own spit on tiny leaves. He told us the names of all the insects in the yard – and one time even had a sheep skull back there to attract fly larvae. Mr. Fentley was wonderful to all of us kids who loved him.
Then we each staked out a tiny plot of land in the backyard, and Mr. Fentley gave us sunflower seeds to plant. There were six plots, one for me and my brother Michael and sister Jennifer, one for David and his brother Barry around the corner and one for Ricky Solis, one of the Solis boys who lived up the street. Every day we’d excitedly run out into the yard to see if our seeds had sprouted, and sure enough they did – starting off about an inch tall and growing and growing into these huge sunflowers that were even taller than us! The huge yellow flowers were so beautiful, I remember thinking, since yellow was always my favorite color. I remember harvesting sunflower seeds and feeding them to my guinea pig who loved them of course.
So now these hippies wanted to plant trees on our street, okay. They had drills because they’d have to drill into designated squares in the cement and create large holes to plant the trees in. There was a big truck filled with dirt – good dirt so the trees will grow one hippie dude told us kids.
We weren’t sure what to think as we watched them get started on a project that would forever change Second Avenue, we decided we’d take these dudes up on helping them out. They’d asked us after all. We figured it’s going to happen anyway, why not be a part of this endeavor. So, all of us were there, me, my brother and sister, David and Barry, and at least a couple of the Solis boys. We didn’t get to use the huge drills that were so loud they rattled our brains, but we got to help throw dirt into the huge gaping holes with shovels and that was fun. I remember peering down one of the holes thinking, wow! And this is right on our street – wonder where that hole leads to.
Then another truck showed up with the trees that were wrapped with burlap or something at the bottom, not sure what, and the fun part was holding up the tree and slowly getting it into the hole they created, and then getting the tree in deep enough with the dirt.
It was an all-day process getting all those trees in on Second Avenue, as we all planted lots of trees. At the end of the day, all of us kids were so proud to see all those small trees, not quite as tall as we were. There was still plenty of room on the wide sidewalks, and they actually looked pretty cool. Our hands were dirty and our ears were ringing from all that drilling into the cement, but it was all in a day’s work.
We played in and among those little trees and watched them grow just a little before we all grew up and parted ways to live our lives.
So now when I go back to the old neighborhood and see those tall majestic trees lining Second Avenue, casting so many shadows and shades, and swaying in the afternoon breeze, that’s what I think of. Among the shadows of those trees lives a whole group of kids who once played on that street – and the memories will always remain.