A Place for Love and other Tragedies

Olea Mae Babbel Woolf at Bimbo's 365 Club, San Francisco, 1947

Golden Gate Bridge--1957

In 1946, a young girl from Idaho, born of German immigrant parents and freshly graduated from BYU, moved to San Francisco to complete a one-year program as a medical technologist at Stanford Hospital. The thrill of the magical city and the excitement of new friends and experiences in a world recently blessed by peace were magnified in the strong bold expansive symbol of the Golden Gate Bridge.

Olea and Tony Woolf, San Francisco 1947

This young woman who found love and romance within a few short months into her last year of education would frequently make her way to the bridge to walk across it. Standing in the middle and looking out across the S.F. Bay towards The City, Sausalito, and the East Bay represented new horizons and endless possibilities. Looking west across the Pacific Ocean or below to see a freighter heading out to sea, smokestacks billowing, inspired confidence and celebrated freedom in her mind and heart. This young woman was my mother.

As Mom and Dad married and quickly had 7 children, we children were the beneficiaries of my mother’s love affair with the Golden Gate Bridge. We not only lived across the bay where we could see the bridge every time we left our home, but we could also see it every day on our way to and from all of our schools. Our weekend outings often consisted of trips to The City for picnics and bridge walks. When relatives came to visit we wouldn’t let them leave without “the walk”. One family reunion in 1963, at least 40 or 50 of us lined up single file and played follow the leader all the way across the Golden Gate, while onlookers and gawkers took pictures and movies. As I got older my high school boyfriend and I used to drive over to the bridge for a stroll across it. After one high school prom at The Fairmount Hotel we made our way over to the bridge to “take in the view”. When my sister, Marlene, got engaged to Kelly, the proposal happened on the bridge.

Even after my folks moved from my childhood home, they made occasional trips back to San Francisco just to include a walk again across the Golden Gate. As they got older in years, with every walk, Mom would say, “Well, this is probably my last walk across the Bridge”. And when things weren’t quite going so well for her she’d say, “That’s it! I’m going to jump off the bridge.” There was never any question in our minds as to which bridge she was referring and also that she would also never do it. In fact, today we still often say, when there’s a problem brewing, “Well, you just might as well go jump off the Bridge”. Unfortunately, at my 40th high school reunion, upon asking one of my friends how his younger sister was, he answered, “I’m so mad at her. She jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge 5 years ago!” I was shocked and horrified and didn’t know how to respond. I guess it was good he was a psychologist because maybe he knew how to deal with that. I guess it was also good he was somewhat drunk because he probably didn’t notice me stammering and sputtering.

Upon the 50th anniversary of the Golden Gate members of the Woolf family, including yours truly, made the exodus across the bridge along with thousands of others. The city of San Francisco really made a mistake when they planned this ‘happening” because with the bridge closed down for the day, people started walking across from both ends. The idea was that we would meet and pass in the middle and continue to the other side. However, there were so many of us that we got logjammed in the center, the bridge started swaying, and we had to turn around, carefully, and try to make it back to land.

A very familiar site, Mom and Dad beginning their walk

When Mom turned 80 we celebrated her birthday by walking across the bridge for her "last walk". T-shirts were made in her honor. And of course we had to dance the hokey pokey.

Never quite sure what we might see passing beneath

Some of the celebrants

One of my favorite pictures

When parts of the bridge were being sold several years back Marlene and Kelly arranged for us to buy one of the portions as an anniversary present for our parents. It was cemented into their Auburn backyard.

Tony and Olea around 1992-93

And was literally one of the only things still standing after their recent fire. Such resilience, such strength, such a role model!

After the fire

NO WONDER WE LOVE THIS BRIDGE!

Open up your Golden Gate, California here I come

Current State of Affairs

Mom and Dad are trying to adjust to their new surroundings. They have their good days and bad days, however Mom is struggling the most while Dad is trying to be a good sport. Marlene and her family and Sandy are doing everything they can to help them accomodate to Sunrise Assisted Living. Our concern for our parents' happiness can be all-consuming; I am so grateful for my sisters and what they are doing for our folks. But to take my mind off of all that has occured since the fire and to celebrate the joy of life and hope for better times ahead I turned to my camera and shot a few pictures of Chelsea and Sawyer a couple of days before he turned 10 months old. This is one of my favorites.

The Great and Dreadful Day

"When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee" Isaiah 43:2

The last picture I have of my folks standing in front of their home 7-09

Dad, brother Bill, Mom and me 7-09

Two weeks ago today I was sitting in a Carl's Jr. parking lot with Sawyer in the back seat of my car, contemplating whether or not I would buy a chocolate malt. Two weeks ago today I received a phone call in that parking lot from my sister, Sandy, telling me that our parents' neighborhood had been evacuated due to a wildfire and that no one could find them. Two weeks ago today seems likes two years ago tonight. For the next 4 or 5 hours individual and conference phone calls, emails and texts were flying around among my brothers and sisters, as we tried to piece together what was truth and what was fiction. Most of us found ourselves in front of our computers watching KCRA-Channel 3 News live on the internet trying to determine if our parents' home had burned down. And asking each other and God, "Where are they?"

It's very difficult to conceive that this could be your parent's home

Bill was quickly able to pinpoint, capture, and email to us

The brick column and patio furniture look familiar, but could this really be where Dad sat on the porch every morning reading his newspaper and greeting his hummingbird friend?

And when the newscaster points to the rubble declaring that most of the homes on Cedar Mist Circle are gone, is he really pointing to our once livingroom?

Here's what we've been able to piece together albeit maybe still not too accurately: Sometime around 2:15-2:30 pm on Aug 30th, Dad (94) and Mom (85) had come home from church. Dad was in his office and smelled something burning so he walked into the kitchen to see if Mom had burned some toast. But there was no toast. He went back to his office and looked out the window to see the bushes and trees on the side of the house up in flames and partially charred. He went outside and saw that the corner of the house was on fire. He grabbed a hose and tried to start spraying down the house but soon realized that the whole neighborhood was on fire. He scrambled back inside, got Mom and his car keys, they climbed in their car in the garage and drove away from the house. They live off a circular street at the top of a hill with only one way in and out. We learned from a neighbor that the street was bumper to bumper with evacuees and the cars were going slowly down the hill. Apparently Mom was quite terrified and kept trying to jump out of the car while yelling "our house is on fire!" The neighbors kept trying to keep her inside the car.

John pulled this photo from The Auburn Journal

Dad was probably in shock but decided to drive to my sister, Marlene's, house which is about 25 minutes away, hoping they'd returned from their trip to Utah. They hadn't. He then drove back up to Auburn and thought he would go to a friend's house, but that street was closed off. Eventually he spoke with some people standing around who told him about an evacuee shelter at a local grade school. They drove over to the school.

In the meantime, my niece's husband, Brandon, had his mother drive up to Auburn from Loomis and try to locate our parents at one of the shelters. At the same time, a member of our church and Mom's surgeon, Dr. Bradshaw, had been driving all over looking for them. First he'd been told that they'd been taken by ambulance to the hospital so he went there and searched for them with no luck. Then he was told that they'd been taken by the sheriff to the evacuee center. He drove there but no luck. He continued to search all the shelters and possible locations at which they might be. He was told that they'd gone to their children's home in Granite Bay for dinner so he contacted, Kelly, my brother-in-law. But Kelly told him his family was still in Utah and that none of us knew where they were. Dr. Bradshaw went back to the school and saw the folks standing across the room with Brandon's mom. He told us that never can we imagine the feeling in his heart when he saw Tony and Olea, well, and in good spirits. He went out to his car and wept. And upon hearing of his diligent search we wept also.

My sister, Sandy, and her husband, Bill, drove up to get the folks and take them to their home in Woodland. My brother, John, and his wife, Gayle, were visiting in the Bay Area for a high school reunion. They drove back up to Sacramento to rejoin the family. The Gallachers arrived home Monday night. I drove up Tuesday morning with Sawyer, and Chelsea later flew in the next day. We all took various assignments in trying to quickly remediate the terrible disaster and bring order back into the lives of our parents. Cheryl, Fred, and Bill lent their support from afar. After the burned out acreage was allowed to be re-entered it was verified that indeed, our house and many others had burned to the ground. It was strange and awful touring the neighborhood and seeing the destructive and nonsensical chaotic path of the fire...some homes spared...some homes destroyed, including 4 homes that belonged to members of our church.

Front walkway leading to the house

In the far upper LH corner is the patio where the playhouse stood. A little left of center is the remains of my refrigerator that I gave the folks when I moved to Dana Point (the one I bought a few days before Brittany's wedding)

On Wednesday, those who could went to D.I. and bought cleanup clothes so we could work on the property. We don't have to worry about demolition and restoration because the insurance company allows money for clean-up and we're not going to rebuild. However, there was time needed to sift and sort through the ashes to see if anything remained. We found some pottery pieces, an anvil, some porcelain doo-dads, a part of Dad's trumpet and camera, coins underneath much rubble, Dad's dogtags and the metal parts of Dad's WWII rifles, and other misc. and trivial things, which have suddenly become very precious to us.

A few dumb things we and the firemen found

The part that pleased us the most was finding that the Golden Gate Bridge was still standing and barely damaged. Several years ago the Golden Gate Bridge was being renovated and parts of it were being sold to the public. We purchased a 3-4 foot section and gave it to the folks as a gift, as the bridge has always had great meaning for our family. At the time we had it cemented into their backyard in the garden. Now, while everything around it was gray or black and nothing but several feet of ashes, there stood the Golden Gate, like a phoenix, it's orange-red paint still intact. It now is on its way to its new home in the Gallachers' backyard. There's a picture of this somewhere but I don't have it.

My nephew, Brigham, holding two Golden Gate bookends, but the actual GG structure can't be seen in this photo

Me, Chelsea, and my sister, Sandy, posing before the mass of destruction

Brother, John, in his D.I. cleanup shirt

John continued working at the site and working on the financial and insurance aspects of the fire. I helped with the recovery at the county and state sites and pulling paperwork and permits. Marlene and family helped with meals and babysitting. Gayle, Marlene, Sandy and I shopped for furniture and clothes and everything needed to set up a new household. I can't begin to describe every detail and complication along the way. We were all exhausted. Marlene and Gayle found a beautiful assisted living location for the folks to move into. Then we needed doctors reports and TB tests and evaluations. And we all had to put our 2 cents in. In the meantime, we took the folks over to survey the damage in the daylight.

Dad, using his cane to point out where his office was and that he probably wouldn't have to worry about organizing and filing all his paperwork there anymore.

Mom and Dad, still smiling. Dad said he came from good pioneer stock, and whereas his great-grandfather and grandfather had given up all that they had and pressed forward with only their wagons, so did he and Mom with their Chrysler 300m

The folks gave some money to their neighbor who had shown kindness to them over the years. She was renting and had no rental insurance so lost everything, but she did find her engagement ring in the ashes.

Two days ago we helped Dad and Mom move into their new place. They can be reached at 6100 Sierra College, Rocklin, CA 95677. Any memories or old photos that you might have would be appreciated.

Within 3 days new grass had started to grow back through the ashes

Within 3 days we had located a new place for them to live

Me, Sawyer, Dad, Mom, sister, Marlene at Sunrise Assisted Living

Thank you to everyone for your messages of concern and love. We, as their 7 children, are so grateful that their lives were spared. Dad is very happy with the new living arrangements. Mom is not so sure. We hope they are happy there. Marlene lives very close by and plans on visiting and helping out as much as possible. Sandy, too, lives not so far away. Providing Mom doesn't run away or get lost this should be a very good place for them. If Mom isn't able to adjust, then we will have to come up with Plan B. But for today and tonight, this is Plan A. And since we never know what tomorrow brings, Plan A is good enough.

"In case you haven't noticed the white people are melting out here" (memorable quote from Fools Rush In)

Chelsea begged me to tell this story. It is her favorite and although she is 32 years old, whenever I recount the events that happened on that steamy afternoon, she laughs hysterically and with tears dripping from her eyes asks me to repeat them again, and again and again. And of course, with each repetition it gets a little bit more embellished. But today I offer up the facts, exactly as they occured.

Back in The Woodlands, TX, when I was a hard-working ever-running realtor I would occasionally take a break from the phones and pagers and incessant demands and tell my assistant, Leslie, that I was ducking out for a matinee. This would provide me with two hours of uninterrupted peace. Leslie would field my calls while I would take refuge from the glaring bright sun, triple-digit temperature and 95% humidity and step inside the cool, dark air-conditioned stadium seating of Tinseltown...The Woodlands megaplex theater. I rarely cared what the movie was. Often I'd take a nap. The magic of Tinseltown, for me, was downtime where no one could find me. I'd walk in, self-indulgently order a hot dog, a bag of buttered popcorn, and an icy diet coke, put mustard, relish, and onions on the hot dog, grab napkins and a straw, and head off to my oasis in the desert.

One particularly hot, humid and BRIGHT SUNNY weekday afternoon I checked the newspaper (back when we checked newspapers instead of iphones or the internet) to see what was playing and when. Ah ha! "Marvin's Room" was starting at 2:00 pm. I told Leslie that I was off, figuring I had about 15 minutes to spare, which gave me enough time to park, buy my food, and bypass the trailers. And since I didn't particularly care what I was seeing, well, if I was a few minutes late, so be it.

I got there, followed my plan, and carefully balanced my food as I made my way to the door that opened up to my nirvana. It was very cold and very dark inside. In fact it was extra dark because it had been extra bright outside and my eyes still hadn't adjusted. I could see two people sitting quite close to the screen but other than that I had the rest of the theater to myself. Still juggling my junk food I climbed up the stairs, higher and higher into the cave, realizing that the movie had already started. I found a row and started sidestepping to the left, watching the screen and stepping oh so carefully. Step. Step. Finally I positioned myself in the middle of the row and started to sit down.

BUT THERE WAS A PERSON THERE! Well, I couldn't really see a person, only the big wide smile and very white teeth of a Black man who happened to be the only person in all of those rows and in the only seat that I'd decided on. I was so shocked--as was he, to have this dumb stupid middle-aged woman carrying a tray of food approach him and sit on his lap.

I mumbled something lame like "I'm sorry" and hurriedly moved over to the right and down a row. Regaining my composure I sighed, "Ahhhh, peace at last". I put the coke in the right cup holder, my popcorn in the left cup holder, and started to unwrap my hot dog. Just as I was going in for the second bite, the credits started rolling and the houselights came up. What the heck? The only other three people in the theater stood up and left including my former seat partner who took a closer look at me and scratched his head.

Meanwhile I did my own head scratching. I looked at my watch. It was 2:25. I looked around the now empty theater, stood up, again balancing all my food and walked out to find the manager to ascertain what was going on. She told me that the newspaper was wrong but to make it up to me she'd comp me another ticket. Since I had all my food I still wanted to see a movie and sleep. She suggested the only other movie that was about to begin. And that's how I saw, yup, "Fools Rush In".

(ps--I can hear Chelsea laughing now just knowing I'm going to post this)

Blue Hydrangea

Like in old cans of paint the last green hue,

these leaves are sere and rough and dull-complected

behind the blossom clusters in which blue

is not so much displayed as it's reflected;


They do reflect it imprecise and teary,

as though they'd rather have it go away,

and just like faded, once blue stationery,

they're tinged with yellow, violet and gray;


As in an often laundered children's smock,

cast off, its usefulness now all but over,

one senses running down a small life's clock.


Yet suddenly the blue revives, it seems,

and in among these clusters one discovers

a tender blue rejoicing in the green.

English translation by Bernhard Frank of Ranier Maria Rilke's poem

In The Wee Small Hours

A sweet baby sleeping, a cool breeze blowing, tomorrow's dinner marinating, Diana Krall singing, a fragrant candle burning, the evening sun setting, and a daughter soon returning. This moment of quiet solitude and bliss is rare and worth remembering.

What Do You Say to the Missionaries?

I'm visiting at my sister, Marlene's, in Granite Bay. The missionaries called to say they needed to borrow a book and would drop by to pick it up. A few minutes ago as we were sitting in the living room we saw the missionaries walking up the pathway to the front porch.

"Helloooo," Marlene said, as she answered the door, "let me grab you," and she turned around to get the book.

"Let me grab you? To the missionaries?" I asked.

We started laughing. As so often happens, she forgot to finish her sentence as her brain was racing from one thing to the next. Such is the life of a busy mother of 6 active teenagers and young adults.