Pigeon Point Light Station
Tag: History
When I Met Hemingway
tell me about the time you met Ernest Hemingway, sure, i was a fencer, prodigy, too strong? he had heard about my riposte skills, fighter, he was, you could tell, mostly with staccato sentences, had a bottle, always tucked into his sports jacket, whisky of whatever sort, we were in alicante, long copper top bar, anyway, he was curious, listened well, slurred his words, still wanted to learn, i was young, impressed with his name, hemingway, like a british rainstorm, a small torment, wet human, sad inquisitive eyes, could you sense how he would end? this was a few years before ketchum, before, well, you know, and no, i couldn’t surmise, it was the 50’s, eisenhower, golf, before sylvia plath, anyway, i thought he’d live forever, i guess he kinda did.
John A. Williams/Crouch & Fitzgerald
The great-grandchild is me. My mother just sent me this obituary. I had never seen it before.
My great-grandfather was the Owner and President of Crouch & Fitzgerald (something I literally just learned).
Crouch & Fitzgerald was a prestigious New York-based luxury leather goods company, renowned for its high-quality luggage and travel accessories, including steamer trunks and briefcases. Established in 1839, the company was known for its skilled craftsmanship, particularly custom-made items for wealthy clients like Franklin Delano Roosevelt. The business closed sometime in the early 2000s but continues to be recognized today through vintage products sold on platforms like Etsy and eBay.
I remember my grandmother speaking about living in New York City, seeing (maybe meeting?) Babe Ruth in her building, attending the Veltin School for Girls, but I never thought to ask about her father’s work.
For those of you that actually know me, I’ve been a history teacher for most of my adult life, so of course I find this all very fascinating!
For more information on Crouch & Fitzgerald visit: https://crouchandfitzgerald.wordpress.com/category/the-legacy/
Hotel Caesar Augustus
How I Found Etta James In San Francisco
late night, july, reading poem of the day, “megan married herself” by caroline bird, english poet, younger than me, fifth line- she strode down the aisle to “at last” by etta james, what do i know about etta james? (1938-2012), looking for connection, internet, internet, doo-wop, her love, my love, when? me, family basement, arlington, virgina, listening to smooth vocals with my father, 1981, etta, between ages 12-16 in the fillmore district of san francisco, 1950-1954, her group the creolettes-connected to creole- a mixture of european, african, and sometimes native american heritage, me, lived at 1550 fillmore in 1996, not creole, but i mix, time, place, words, people, takeaway? we walked the same pavement, liked the same music, never knew etta james, knew her a little bit.
This Stanford Life
Three colleges have made their mark on me: Colby College (BA), Washington University in St. Louis (MA), and Stanford University (Coe Fellowship/Unofficial 4-year student). Early on, “Stanford” was almost a bad word. I taught at a large public high school (Terra Linda) where many of my highest achieving students went to Cal or UCLA, almost never to Stanford. Stanford was considered a snobby school for rich kids. My impression began to change during the summer of 2000 when I studied 20th century history at Stanford, while living in the French House on campus as part of my Coe Fellowship. Taking classes in the history corner (building), brought me into the Richardsonian Romanesque architecture, as the campus permeated my ethos. I moved to Palo Alto in 2004, thus beginning my informal education at the school. From 2004 to 2008, I attended events/classes on campus every single week. I went to lectures, films, business seminars, education roundtables, musical performances, athletic games, and completed a weeks-long writing workshop with the author Stephen Elliott. The school won me over with its never-ending generosity to the public. I recently visited Stanford with my son and now consider it my third alma mater.
Postscript: One of my former Terra Linda students is now an English Professor at Stanford. A former high school classmate (from my 1989 AP European History class) is the Provost.
San Francisco Railroad
Before & Now
i could try to put
all the words back together
months and years of poems
those fragments, pieces of bone
structure of love, my body
of work, endless expression
of our boundless truth
when we were both
younger, before
but now
only this
Homeless Ice Cream
every morning i drive by ben & jerry’s
haight-ashbury, hippie history
he sleeps on sticky stairs
remnants of mint chocolate chip, the
sugary smell underneath sleeping bag
comforts his drunk, drugged out body
pressed against concrete like
ice cream against waffle cone, but
this isn’t dessert, i think
of the hundreds of tourists’ feet
smiling, licking
walking on his bed
Daniel W. Polk 