Photograph by Willys Peck
Columnist Willys Peck snapped this photograph of Saratoga Grammar School in June 1937 with his new Baby Brownie.
Saratoga Stereopticon
It's really true-you can't go home again
By Willys Peck
I am indebted to the late novelist Thomas Wolfe (not to be confused with Tom Wolfe) for a book title that has sounded the theme for any number of these effusions paying LIP (Living in the Past) service to the Village That Was.
The title, of course, is You Can't Go Home Again. Although I didn't find the book itself all that riveting, the title is ingrained in my subconscious and frequently surfaces. This occurred most recently during a visit to my old alma mater, Saratoga Grammar School, now better known as Oak Street School.
Much has changed that is not visible, such as the late Pleistocene Age grade structure--one through eight--that obtained during my attendance from 1929 to 1937. No kindergarten or middle school.
But more has changed that is visible. The current building project, designed to increase capacity to 500 pupils, kindergarten through fifth grade, incorporates the 1923 structure and the addition will include some of the architectural features of the original, which is good.
But although the architectural prospects look good, a lot of people, including me, are concerned about the fate of certain trees as the work on building and grounds continues. "Eucalyptus" has become an emotionally charged word, and while feelings may not have escalated to the Hatfield-McCoy feuding stage, there are some pretty strong sentiments. Are the trees really dangerous, either from falling limbs or people tripping over seedpods? And which is more important, trees or playground space?
As to the former issue, I've toyed with the idea of having a T-shirt imprinted with "I survived the Saratoga School eucalyptus," but it would probably go over with a dull thud. As to playground space, I'm back there with that Thomas Wolfe title and memories of what we had when there were fewer than 150 pupils.
My recent visit to the site was with Gay Crawford, a member of an informal tree-monitoring committee spearheaded by Jill Hunter. It's a very heartening effort, and I'm glad to hear that they're working with the district. These activists aren't giving any ground (that's needed for trees), and they are trying to work toward positive solutions in preserving the trees.
I was there with Gay the day after a rain, and the first thing that impressed me, besides the mud, was how much more potential playground space there is since my day. That's because of the land between the school and the district office, land that I remember as an orchard and a virtual quagmire in wintertime. One of the chief playground sports of the time was speedball, much like soccer except that the ball was propelled solely by the feet (sole, feet, kicking: get it?).
Since one of the main playing fields was adjacent to this orchard, a ball kicked out of bounds could present something of an adventure. Like sinking in the mud almost to one's knees. I hear this particular part of the augmented playground space has some drainage problems. Understood.
Ah, yes, the eucalyptus. There were a lot of them. One of the few systematic things I've done in my life is to file old photographic negatives, and I ran across some that I took around June 1937 with my graduation present Baby Brownie. (In my family, a $1.25 graduation present was significant.) That picture is reproduced on this page. If I understand correctly, most, if not all, of the surviving trees pictured are doomed.
You can't go home again.
Saratoga, California Since 1955
