Events Listings

From my sixth-floor living room window I have a glorious panoramaic view of the Berkeley and Oakland hills. I never tire of this view, gazing out at the Campanile, International House, the Claremont Hotel and numerous campus buildings. When I pull my drapes apart in the early morning, it’s almost as though I were opening curtains to a stage. This comparison may sound a bit fanciful, but is it really? 

After all, when we go to the theater, we don’t know what we’ll be seeing. Similarly, when I pull my drapes apart in the early morning, I never know what sights will greet me. Will there be a gorgeous sunrise, with brilliant streaks of red in the sky? Will dozens of crows circle noisily outside my window and then perch on telephone wires, looking for all the world like Supreme Court Jjustices? Will this be a crystal-clear day where I can see the Lawrence Hall of Science, the Radiation Laboratory and practically the entire campus? 

Or will fog hang so thick and heavy I won’t even be able see houses across the street, much less read the clock on the Campanile? Not to worry—I love fog. 

From my living room window I’ve witnessed many unforgettable scenes, none so heart wrenching as the Oakland Hills Fire Storm in 1991. That day will forever be etched in my memory! With several neighbors joining me at my picture window, we watched nearly that entire day, in grief and disbelief, as hundreds of homes went up in flames. I didn’t know it at the time, but several of those homes belonged to good friends and colleagues at UC. To this day, whenever there’s a hot, dry wind, I shudder and pray to the Almighty that this tragedy will not be repeated. 

Another scene I’ve witnessed all too often is that of fire trucks and ambulances racing down Parker Street, sirens blaring, then turning the corner, pulling up to my apartment building. It’s a sound I’ve come to dread. I run to the window to see firemen and paramedics rushing into the lobby, first aid equipment in hand. I hurry out to the hall to see where the elevator has stopped, then stand at the window waiting to see who will be carried out. If the person carried out on a gurney is sitting up and talking, I breath a sigh of relief; perhaps it was only a nasty fall or minor heart attack. But when the firemen and paramedics remain in the building for a long period of time, then place someone in the ambulance and drive off slowly, no sirens blaring, I know that I’ve lost a friend and neighbor. Oh, yes, how I dread the sound of those sirens! 

But let me reassure you that not all the scenes I witness from my window are somber. Some are lighthearted, such as the group of Hare Krishnas parading down Telegraph Avenue in saffron robes, with shaved heads, chanting and beating their drums. On the eve of Big Game Day I’ve seen the Cal Marching Band also parading along Telegraph to the cheers of onlookers. Then, of course, there are the hundreds of UC students, backpacks and cell phones in tow, hurrying to their classes. I’m always gratified at the great diversity of Cal’s student body. 

By now you probably understand why I dearly love the view from my living room window, reflecting small human dramas and the exciting flavor of this wonderful university city.