Weekly St. Helena Star Column

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

 

A Child's Christmas in San Francisco

Recently, Lenore Skenazy was excoriated by Helicopter Parents for allowing her 9 year old to ride the NY subway alone. It was a national news story. A while back, due in part to A.P. Giannini, my mother committed the same crime—each year at Christmas time.

We were taught how A.P. made loans from his vegetable cart during the quake of '06. Being a Bonetti, my grandmother, Beeb, liked that a boy from the old country turned his cabbage greens into real green under the moniker Bank of America.

We were B. of A. people. They had a “Christmas Club.” You could put a buck a week in the bank and come Christmas time you'd have $54.08--4% interest—a fortune to a kid under 10.

Jim Pop paid a buck a week for daily chores. He’d just bought the Lazy J and every weekend we'd pile in the back of that red 1950 GMC pickup and head up to Conn Valley--a gold mine of job opportunities. We could like cut wood, feed the cattle, or fill “Big Stinkie” fly traps in the barn and earn an extra two bits per chore.

For the first two years, like many of you, today, we were weekenders up here. Home was the East Bay. Each December, we would take our pass books to the bank, get the cash and then catch the "C" train to The City.

To a kid, the City was the land of Oz—especially at Christmas.

We had our sport coats and ties on (in those days, no one—child or adult--would dare go to The City without one).

And we had our routine.

First, we'd walk around Union Square and look at all the window displays. Sax, Tiffany's, Macy's, the City of Paris--all would compete.

These windows were magical--just short of the robotic figures one could see at Disneyland. Crowds, six deep, pressed up against the windows. Street musicians played carols. Salvation Army Santa's rang their bells on every corner.

The City of Paris had "the world's tallest tree." We were told they lowered it in through the roof late at night. Leaning against the railing and looking down 5 stories was scary. I'm not sure that dropping tiny saliva bombs was appreciated by the shoppers below.

Stores had Santas. We were too cool to sit on his lap, but any Santa meant a Toy department. The games you could play—for free! Electric trains were everywhere. Yards of track were laid down behind glass. Engines pulling freight cars chugged into mountains and came out of tunnels (why are tunnels so cool?), before passing through "toy towns." One could watch these trains for hours.

But we had places to go and gifts to buy. We'd store the gifts in lockers at Macy's (terrorists were unheard of). I hated it, but since Grandma Beeb, was sure to ask if we'd been, we'd force ourselves to look at the ornaments and greens at Podesta's near Maiden Lane.

A favorite game was to "Chintz" Cable Cars. They were mobbed. One could hang on the outside, with only a toe on the running board. You literally had to face forward in peril of being smacked by a car coming the other way. How many times could one ride without having to pay?

After riding half way to the Stars and jumping off before the conductor could catch us, we'd visit Mama and Papa Warren at the Fairmont. Visiting them was just an excuse to ride the outside elevator, then slide down the banister near the Tonga Room.

Lunch was always at Blum's. The root beer floats and ice cream sodas covered the basic food groups.

The highlight of Christmas was the trek down to Capwell's. They had Carnival roof rides like at the Calistoga fair! There was a Merry-go-round and a real Ferris Wheel, complete with a toothless carnie.

The Ferris Wheel went out over the edge of the building. When it stopped at the top I could barely open my eyes. My toes still tingle thinking about being up that high and swaying in the wind. I hated it--but couldn't wait to go again.

Exhausted and loaded down with more shopping bags than we could carry, we'd walk back to the terminal and catch the C train to be home in time before dark.

I couldn’t wait to turn 10 the next year and try two bucks a week. Imagine what a kid could do in The City with $104 (plus interest, don't forget). It boggles the mind just thinking about it today.

Christmas in the City with no adults. For a kid, was there anything better?








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