Maybe you can go home again

During a recent visit to my San Diego birthplace, I tried to overcome what was famously noted by American novelist Thomas Wolfe in his book, “You Can’t Go Home Again.”

Yes, I tried but found that the tome title is correct. And now I have to agree with Wolfe’s premise that people and places change, so returning home isn’t a return to the exact past and you can’t recapture lost moments or the feeling of a younger self.

Ha. In reference to the younger self, my visit with 14 members of my high school graduating classmates was wild. We escaped the hallowed halls in 1961, nearly 65 years ago. The reunion was wonderful, but it was difficult to see so many guys who, of course, all look older than I do.

Despite that, I had good times during my hometown visit with friends and family and brought back many happy memories. Among them were joining Matt, my former son-in-law, three granddaughters and many others in celebrating Hanukkah. He is an outstanding host; I could not have made the trip without him.

I must say that San Diego County seems to be bursting at the seams due to its current population of more than 3.3 million persons. Navigating freeways means maintaining 80 mph at close to bumper-to-bumper traffic. However, I found that my old steering wheel skills still exist.

After not being “home” in approximately 30 years, my eyes spent most of the time wide open in awe. For example, a visit to the first home that Jan and I were able to purchase in 1970 was unbelievable. What once was a remote rural area is now packed tightly with homes, businesses and other buildings. We “lucked out” acquiring the home for $28,500. The property is now valued at $1.3 million. Wow.

I also checked the site of a famous downtown San Diego historic shootout that occurred on a rainy April 8, 1965, at what was the Hub Jewelry & Loan Co. As a copy boy at the former San Diego Evening Tribune, I became involved in the four-hour situation that involved 60 police officers who fired an estimated 1,000 rounds. At the time it was the largest police shootout in U.S. history.

My job for several hours was to run (literally) new 35mm film canisters to the site for the Tribune and San Diego Union photographers and return with their exposed film. It was the first time I used my press pass, and I still remember the sound of gunfire, including some shots from the barricaded suspect whose bullets came near me and several reporters. The building still stands but now accommodates a real estate investment firm.

My recent trip also included a great outing at the San Diego Zoo with family and friends, thanks to granddaughter Cole, who works there. First, we walked 3.5 miles with her as our guide. Then we enjoyed a VIP guided tour aboard a premium open cart with Cole and her buddy, Sara, serving as guides. It was fantastic.

My adventure also included visits to Old Town San Diego, Cabrillo National Monument, the Scripps Institution of Oceanography aquarium and  San Luis Rey Mission with its museum, cemetery, adobe ruins and huge brick launderia. I found that maybe you can’t go home again, but you can have an enjoyable, memorable time.