Connections

Every day I ask myself how I can possibly hope to fulfill some miniscule portion of the vision that Louis Lundberg certainly had when he built this - these -homes; I believe it is the same dream held by Joseph Cinalli and the Millers and the Herreras. It does not bode well that Louis Lundberg seems to have killed himself trying, or was killed trying; and his wife moved to Lakeshore; and their children spoke no more; and Joseph Cinalli filled the house with family and grew weary as the city. On the other hand, Johnnie Quarles came through in a pinch and has provided the perspective I needed to understand the significance of this history, the importance of documenting and interpreting these facts, events, and people.

There are several things, architectural elements, that one would not expect to be original to the house. Glass panes get broken and replaced throughout the years. But, here in the dining room, the bay windows retain four of six original panes of rolled glass. Looking through the western-most sashes, I realized just the other day that, through this window, I can view the front door diagonally across the street towards the south from my back door. Certainly Louis Lundberg made this his wife's window to keep an eye on her younger sister, Josephine.

I stand in my kitchen and gaze at the filtered, warped light and try to imagine the world through Lundberg's eyes. See how withered my Oakland is. A rose bush dried in full bloom with weeds and other inappropriate elements forced between the decorated cakes. Blight on every level. Oh, please spill over from the Lake like you promised. Zone us into happiness, not into submission. Offer the dream to everyone at every foot above and below sea level. East of Eden, in Castro Valley, is where we will return to escape the corroded arteries, bad circulation, and years of scales, built-up, uncleaned that the City seems to be.

And so from my back door, looking east comes the warning, "One in 5 children is sexually solicited online."