Monterey Bay

The morning was quiet. Sadie barely moved. I heard no noises reminding me that I was surrounded by troops. I had my first shower on this trip at the Price Fitness Center and realized that nothing has changed since I left the base in late 2000. A few more security walls have been constructed, keeping civilians out, but all else remains the same. Even the tame muledeer are still browsing near Huckleberry Hill, a small patch preserved for the fragile Monterey Pines, and are oblivious of the traffic. They looked up at me as I passed by but didn't seem concerned.

Even the town hasn't changed. I quickly became oriented and knew where to go. I may have forgotten street names, but landmarks guided me along.

It was nice to be back.

I was on my way to Santa Cruz when I realized that one of my old friends here, John, once worked as a landscaper for the city cemetery. I drove there, looked at the old tombstones (some dating to before 1850 when California became the 31st state) and drove around the complex trying to find him. What would he look like, I asked myself? Would he be recognizable? I was ready to ask the manager if John still worked here when he saw me first and approached me with a "Connie?" His beardless face revealed large white teeth and a smile. I came up to him as well, relieved that the search was over. We hugged.

John seemed happy to see me, which was a relief, and we ended up talking for almost an hour about the old days here when we went hiking, camping and walking around town for those years we were close, in 1997-98, before he bought a home in Marina and was no longer my neighbor. He then fell in love with a woman he met while in Costa Rica. He's married to her now, with a little boy and it's his little boy Joseph he talked about the most.

I was nervous. I had no script and wasn't prepared. How does one summarize one's life in bullet sentences after a nine-year absence? What to focus on? John wanted to know more about Erin and Eric than about me, and I was able to talk freely about them. I don't carry photographs of my family in my wallet--a habit I picked up while in the army--and promised John I'd send him pics of them via email. At least now John has a computer and uses email!

"I have become the All-American Joe!" said John, referring to his clean-cut hair and beardless face and wedding ring on his left hand. This was the John I never expected to see, but it's a John who is happy with his new life.

I couldn't stay long as he had to work and I didn't want to be in the way. It was nice to see him again after all these years; his shorter hair and beardless face would have confused me had he not recognized me first. His marriage has given him greater self-confidence. Before, he hid behind his long hair and beard. His voice and demeanor hadn't changed much at all. He seems happy with his life.

The morning had passed quickly now. Another friend I wanted to look up was his friend Dennis, an older man and fellow army retireee who now works at an autoshop in Seaside, a town that borders Monterey and the former Fort Ord. I spent a few parties with both John and Dennis in "the old days." I drove over there after leaving the cemetery, only to be told that Dennis had left for work. Now where to? I stopped at Border's to check my email, wrote to Karen about getting together, and then decided that Sadie needed to get some exercise. She had been waiting patiently in the truck for me. I drove back to Monterey and then Pacific Grove to check out my old apartment on Ransford Avenue. My old German neighbor Lieselotte still lives there.

I knocked on Lieselotte's door but she didn't answer. Her old doghouse in which "Baby" once slumbered is still there in the courtyard and is now part of the landscape. Her lace curtains still adorn her windows. I knocked several times but she never came to the door. I then opted to let her be and walked across to the little strip mall I'd frequent and where the Bagel Bakery is. It's still there, along with the 24-hour laundry, Stone's Pet Shop (a 60-year family business), Breakers (a small eatery), and Noble Roman's Pizza. Nothing had changed here.

I opted to take her to Asilomar Beach in Pacific Grove, a dog-friendly beach that orders dogs on leashes (according to the posted sign) but which few people seem to practice as every dog except Sadie was off-leash. This beach is a busy beach that always has groups of people on it. Camp fires once were allowed here, but not anymore. I used to come here and sit on a rock near the waves just to listen to the water. Kelp washes ashore here and then dries in the waning tide.

Sadie did not like the beach. It was perhaps the loud, crashing waves, or perhaps the taste of salt water made her queasy, but the entire length of the beach she pulled on the leash and wanted nothing to do with the water.

Families and dogs were all over the small beach, and a half dozen surfers were out trying to catch a few measely waves. Kelp lay on the beach in high mounds, but kelp is something the locals don't seem to mind. One dead starfish also rotted in the sun. A cool breeze followed us.

I wanted to walk longer, take a few miles along the trail that parallels the shore but Sadie was not interested. So we returned to the car. Now where to? I drove back to Monterey, and managed to pull into Dennis' workshop just as he was leaving. He looked the same except older and a bit heavier around the middle, but he recognized me right away. It's no fair that Dennis got word from John that I was in town! And as usual in Dennis' fast-paced worded enthusiasm, he told me as much news as he could pull out of his head.

I wanted to talk longer, but he had a commitment to a volunteer organization that works with dementia/Alzheimer's victims. He takes afflicted people out to eat twice a week and tonight was one of those nights. Again, I didn't want to be in the way and we departed at 5:40pm.

I stopped at Border's again for more photo downloads. The forecasted marine layer had moved in as the sun set. By 7:30pm the fog was heavy and cold, the kind of fog that used to depress me here as it continued into the summer. I remember the summer of 1999 was especially cold.

My day was now over. I drove around old Fort Ord where now stands a new stripmall with an REI and other stores, surrounded by abandoned and rotting army barracks that once housed the 5th Infantry here. Instead of tearing the buildings down to make way for new construction, the old barracks have been surrounded by chainlink fences. There must not be any money to totally raze the eye sores off Highway 1.

The last thing I did before we camped for the night was walk around my old neighborhood. This neighborhood at night was always quiet, so I took Sadie on a half-mile walk through the dark streets. I had often walked the dark streets at night after a quick visit to the nearby Block Buster's which still stands, but never learned the names of any of the streets. Every home along this stretch is a showroom house, with elegantly landscaped gardens and stately mature cypresses towering the area. Few people seem to live in these open-curtained, well-lighted rooms, but parked cars in the small driveways point to life inside these homes.

The damp cypresses were especially fragrant tonight, but so was the biting cold. Sadie walked next to me, seemingly unmoved by the exercise.

On our return walk back to the truck we came across a young buck standing in a driveway. I thought it was a lawn ornament, but instead the animal was frozen in fear by the sight of Sadie, who quickly confronted the animal. At first the two made awkward dance movements, but then they butted heads, then Sadie barked and then the buck started snorting and going toward me before it leaped to the side with Sadie in hot pursuit. This is not what I wanted! I couldn't call Sadie because I didn't want to create a ruckus and have the sleepy Seniors yell at me. Pacific Grove enforces its quiet hours pretty seriously. Both buck and Sadie darted off three houses down, but then the buck jumped into a narrow alleyway and Sadie had no option but to return to me.

This was enough excitement for me. I returned to the Presidio, and now had to take the long way back in as the Taylor Entrance closes at 10pm. The cold, heavy fog continued to roll in all through the night.