What brought me here? I'd graduated college in May 1995 and was languishing at my mother's house outside Pittsburgh, PA in the summer of '96. A mutual friend reconnected me with my friend Brandon, who'd moved to SF some months prior and absolutely loved the place. I expressed my envy, noting that I'd long wanted to live in SF ever since discovering the JA/JS and reading about the hippie scene.
"Then why aren't you here?" he asked.
I didn't have a good answer. So Brandon offered to let me stay at his place while I look for an apartment and a job. I moved there with a few duffel bags, a wing and a prayer on September 17, 1996. Found a cheap apartment in the Tenderloin a week later, and a job with Charles Schwab two days after that.
But what assured me in my decision: My first day in town, I made a pilgrimage to 2400 Fulton Street, the onetime home of Paul, Grace and the gang. On the way back to Brandon's place I stopped in the panhandle of GG Park, wondering why on earth I'd made such a monumental decision with nothing secure. Turned on my walkman, and the first song was Steve Winwood's "While You See a Chance." The lines made immediate sense. "Are you still free?" Yes, I was.
I still love you, SF. It was so very hard to go.
