The city seemed fresh and exciting with so many hills to climb and so many cheap restaurants to try. Even Chez Panisse was affordable for a special occasion. One of my first stops was San Francisco Opera. Birgit Nielsen was singing in Die Walkure. I spent what seemed to me a fortune, $35, on an orchestra ticket. Cars stopped for pedestrians. With a little perseverance, I could find a free parking spot almost anywhere. And then there was the Bridge – ah, what an experience!
My plan was to get in and to get out before a big earthquake, but my husband and I both had succeeded in our work and were offered faculty jobs in the Bay Area in 1985. Even then San Francisco was known for its exorbitant housing prices, but my Genentech stock had escalated and we could roll that into a down payment. We decided to stay.
In the 36 years since then, I’ve retraced so many steps. I’ve owned three houses and five cars. I’ve been divorced, remarried, and widowed. I’ve adopted one child and three cats. I’ve worked my way from the lowliest assistant professor to professor emeritus. I’ve received two additional degrees, sung with a dozen different musical groups, and completed most of the Bay Area Ridge Trail. I’ve lost both parents and almost lost my daughter. And I’ve seen almost every production at the Opera house in all of these years.
I can’t ever be a native, but so much of me is woven into San Francisco, and California in general. As long as I might live in the US, this will be my home.
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