East Bay Yesterday

Julia Morgan wasn’t just one of the most renowned architects of the 20th century, she was a true pioneer of her profession. She was the first woman to be admitted to the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris, which was the most important architecture school of its era, as well as the first woman in California to earn an architecture license and eventually the first woman to win the American Institute of Architects’ highest honor. Then there’s her buildings. She’s best known for Hearst Castle, but over her long career she designed hundreds of impressive structures – the Berkeley City Club, Oakland’s YWCA, the Asilomar Conference Center, El Campanil at Mills College, and the list goes on and on. As a woman, Morgan didn’t always get the recognition she deserved, but in more recent decades, she’s been the subject of numerous books, documentaries, and museum exhibits. However, a new book takes a different approach by imagining Julia’s early years, as a young woman growing up in Victorian era East Bay. In “Drawing Outsid

[This is a re-broadcast of an episode originally aired in 2019.] 50 years ago, a group of students, activists and community members transformed a muddy, junk-filled parking lot into a park. When the University of California, under heavy pressure from Gov. Ronald Reagan, tore up the grass and surrounded the land with a heavily-guarded fence, this response triggered a surreal and tragic set of events. The maelstrom of violence that engulfed Berkeley in May 1969 would be almost impossible to believe if the cameras hadn't been rolling. Dozens were shot, hundreds were arrested, and thousands were teargassed – protesters and innocent bystanders alike. During the military occupation of Berkeley by National Guardsmen, a helicopter launched a chemical attack on the University campus, children were surrounded by bayonet-wielding soldiers, and journalists were detained under the supervision of brutally sadistic guards. Amidst this upheaval, Gov. Reagan told a group of reporters, “If it takes a bloodbath, let’s get it

Over the past few years, there’s been a huge upsurge in efforts to remove books about gender and race from libraries and schools, and in some cases even ban them from being sold to minors altogether. One of the books frequently targeted by these campaigns is “The 57 Bus,” which examines a 2013 incident involving a nonbinary teenager who was lit on fire by an Oakland High student while taking AC Transit home from school. The book was a bestseller and won critical acclaim for its nuanced portrayal of what it’s like to be a young person who doesn’t fit into “traditional” gender roles, as well as its critical look into the failings of America’s criminal justice system, but now it’s being illegitimately denounced as “pornographic” by parents parroting the talking points of conservative organizations like Moms for Liberty. In reality, there’s nothing sexual in the book—they’re simply scared of it. Besides book banning, there are hundreds of anti-LGBTQ laws being proposed across the country right now, not to mentio

Looking back to the West Oakland of his childhood during the World War II era, Ed Howard remembers a place where kids felt safe roaming the streets, Black businesses thrived along 7th Street, and a flood of newcomers from the South created a prosperous, tight-knit community. His own memories present a jarring contrast to the contemporary media’s portrayal of this neighborhood as a dangerous slum. “Any time they see a group of Black people together, they say it’s bad,” Ed recalled. “But me and my friends weren’t bad. And Oakland isn’t bad.” From his early days as community organizer based in DeFremery Park, Ed was motivated to challenge these negative messages, and as he climbed each level of his career ladder, he brought friends from his community with him. After becoming one of the first Black mechanical engineers at Kaiser Industries, he created a program to train and hire more Black workers, a model that was soon adopted by other local companies in the 1960s. Ed went on to produce “Black Dignity,” one of

Instead of waiting around for a solution to California’s housing crisis, about a decade ago Violet Thorns decided to move into one of the hundreds of vacant homes scattered throughout Oakland. During the Occupy era, she was part of a loose network of dozens of squats, but since then nearly all of those were evicted as local property values soared. After her community crumbled, Violet found herself living in a squalid, burned out building with no money and few resources. As a trans woman she was desperate to remain in the Bay Area, despite not being able to afford this region’s astronomical rents. Then one day, she noticed a vacant lot on a residential street that was so overgrown with fennel that she knew the owners hadn’t been there for years. Today’s episode is about how Violet built a tiny home and a thriving garden on that abandoned land and gotten away with living there for nearly eight years without paying rent. Listen now to hear about the rise and fall of an anarchic squatting scene, how to deal wit

Growing up in West Oakland during the 1940s, Evangeline Canonizado Buell remembers the neighborhood as “a melting pot of… adobo, linguisa, tamales, blues, and jazz.” From an early age, this child of Filipino immigrants learned how to connect with her Black, Portuguese, Mexican, Greek and Japanese neighbors through food and music, skills that she later built into careers as a guitar teacher, historian, and program coordinator for the Berkeley Co-Op. Her memoir, “Twenty-Five Chickens and a Pig for a Bride,” intertwines her personal journey of overcoming abuse and discrimination with the growth of California’s Filipino community, mixing tantalizing stories of backyard pig roasts with infuriating memories of racist harassment. In this episode, Evangeline shares some of the wisdom, humor, and music that she’s accumulated throughout her nine decades living in the East Bay. Listen now to hear a conversation that covers everything from the agricultural origins of Bay Farm Island to the long legacy of the Spanish-Am

Why has Oakland produced so many all-star athletes? This is the question that propels Paul Brekke-Miesner’s book “Home Field Advantage: The City That Changed the Face of Sports” through decades of local history, from the playgrounds to stadiums. His exploration helps explain not only the origins of this highly concentrated pool of athletic ability, but also why so many local stars have used their visibility to call attention to social struggles, long before Colin Kaepernick famously took a knee to protest police violence. An Oakland native who grew up playing ball in the Eastmont neighborhood and began covering sports at Castlemont High more than half a century ago, Brekke-Miesner brings deep knowledge about such iconic athletes as Bill Russell, Ricky Henderson, Frank Robinson, Curt Flood and many others to our conversation in this episode. Along the way, we also discuss the impact of Prop. 13 on youth sports, some very unlikely superstars, and why The Town might be better off without the billionaire owners

Although most “blaxploitation” flicks from the 1970s were action thrillers, “The Mack” feels more like a documentary. The film was shot on location in pool halls, barber shops and speakeasies throughout Oakland and features real people, not professional actors, as extras. But the driving force of the film’s authenticity came from the Ward Brothers, a family of pimps who dominated the Bay Area’s underground sex trade during this era. The movie’s protagonist, Goldie, was modeled on Frank Ward, the crew’s charismatic leader, and the rest of the brothers lent their clothes, cars, and expertise to the production, which was filmed on a shoestring budget. Immortalized by dozens of rap hits that sampled the film’s streetwise dialogue and funky soundtrack, “The Mack” went on to become a cult classic that’s still relevant five decades after its release. However, Frank Ward never got to enjoy the film he inspired – along with Blanche Bernard, he was murdered in October 1972, sparking a persistent rumor that the Black P

In many ways, Berkeley is a city defined by dichotomies. The hills and the flatlands, academia and industry, counterculture and The Establishment. Despite the city’s progressive reputation, Berkeley has never been a monolithic place. The tensions between conflicting political and cultural forces are what have made it so dynamic and unique. Although Berkeley’s reputation will forever be tied to the student uprisings of the 1960s, the century or so leading up to those conflicts is just as fascinating. Charles Wollenberg wrote the definitive book on Berkeley’s early years, “Berkeley: A City in History” (UC Press) and on today’s episode we cover major milestones between the Gold Rush and the Great Depression. Listen now to hear about Berkeley’s first businesses, a socialist mayor, some very ironic squatters, Bernard Maybeck, single family zoning laws, Phoebe Hearst, a boozy urban legend, and even an extremely symbolic sword fight. To see photos related to this episode, visit: https://eastbayyesterday.com/episod

Some cities were founded by warriors, prophets, or idealistic visionaries. The man who established Oakland was an unscrupulous lawyer looking to get rich quick. This 1877 newspaper quote captures the sentiment shared by many residents about The Town’s first mayor: “If the early settlers had taken Horace W. Carpentier to a convenient tree and hung him, as they frequently threatened to do, the act would have been beneficial to immediate posterity.” Featuring an interview with local historian and author Dennis Evanosky, this episode travels back to Oakland’s origins to explore what made our founding father such a widely detested villain. See photos related to this episode here: https://eastbayyesterday.com/episodes/he-stole-the-town/ East Bay Yesterday can’t survive without your support. Please donate to keep this show alive: www.patreon.com/eastbayyesterday

In 1968, an exhibition titled “New Perspectives in Black Art” opened in the Kaiser Center Gallery of the Oakland Museum. The show was curated by Evangeline “E.J.” Montgomery, a woman who was at the nucleus of the West Coast’s vibrant Black Arts movement during that radical era. According to Montgomery, the “New Perspectives” collection was “the first time that a Black Arts association has organized and set up their own art exhibit in a museum of this size.” Now, more than five decades later, Oakland-raised radio producer Babette Thomas is revisiting the life and legacy of E.J. Montgomery in a new season of SFMOMA’s Raw Material podcast called “Visions of Black Futurity.” Across seven episodes, Thomas will explore the local roots of the Black Arts movement to understand how this often overlooked past could inform the kind of future they want to see, a future of Black creative expression released from the limitations of traditional art institutions. Explaining why they chose to focus this series on E.J. Montg

The Bay Area’s status as a rock & roll mecca may have peaked during the psychedelic sixties, but the party didn’t stop after the hippies took the flowers out of their hair. Following the height of the Haight-Ashbury scene, a wild diversity of styles and iconic performers continued to emerge from this region’s clubs, cafes, and even churches. These locations are compiled in “Rock and Roll Explorer Guide to the San Francisco Bay Area,” a new book that traces the rise of groups ranging from The Pointer Sisters to Primus by literally following in these superstars’ footsteps. This episode features an interview with authors Mike Katz and Crispin Kott about the geographic history of Bay Area rock & roll and also explores the profound ways this terrain has shifted over the past few decades. If you want to hear about how they tracked down all the East Bay landmarks mentioned in Green Day lyrics, why Metallica ditched L.A. for the Bay, and much more, listen to the full episode. To see photos related to this episode,

In the early 20th century, the largest employer of Black men in the United States was the Pullman Car Company, which operated luxurious trains that carried millions of passengers around the booming nation in an era before airplanes and interstate highways. Ever since the company’s founding during the Civil War, Pullman exclusively hired Black men as porters to keep the train cars clean and serve the white passengers. Although the job was prestigious, by the 1920s porters were fed up with the low pay, long hours, and abusive conditions. Their struggle to unionize became one of the most significant civil rights conflicts of the pre-WWII era and laid the groundwork for the movement led by Martin Luther King Jr. in later years. This episode explores how Oakland’s C.L. Dellums helped the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters triumph over one of the nation’s most powerful corporations, and also his massive impact on challenging widespread racial discrimination throughout California. Dellums helped open jobs in warti

Samantha Durbin’s acid was just kicking in as she entered an Oakland donut shop to score a handmade map to a secret warehouse party. On that chilly winter night in 1996, she ended up dancing to pulsing beats and kaleidoscopic lights until the sun came up. Thinking back to her first rave, Samantha remembers it feeling “like a neon space carnival.” Soon the highschool sophomore was chasing after bigger parties and higher highs every weekend. In her new memoir, “Raver Girl: Coming of Age in the 90s” Durbin bring readers along to sweat-soaked raves at roller rinks and farm fields, into a world of comically huge pants and ridiculously tripped-out teenagers, where there’s always room for one more to join the cuddle puddle in the corner of the chill room. Listen to the podcast to hear us discuss candyflipping, raver fashion, and, of course, Homebase – the legendary Oakland venue that hosted some of the most massive underground parties the Bay Area has ever seen. To see photos related to this episode: https://east

Thanks to its natural deepwater port, San Francisco quickly emerged as the West Coast’s leading metropolis during California’s Gold Rush era. In the decades since, many of Oakland’s development patterns have been influenced by its competitive relationship with the sparkling and sophisticated city across the Bay. As a result, the elitist ambitions of Oakland’s political and business leaders often overlooked, or actively harmed, many of The Town’s existing residents. For wealthy developers dreaming of car-friendly, upscale shopping malls and homogenous office towers, Black neighborhoods, immigrant enclaves, and working class districts were treated as obstacles to be bulldozed. This paradigm pre-dates common usage of the term “gentrification” by generations. Cycles of displacement are one of the main themes explored in “Hella Town: Oakland’s History of Development and Disruption” (UC Press) by Mitchell Schwarzer. As opposed to focusing primarily on individual power brokers, Schwarzer, a professor of architectu

William Gee Wong almost didn’t exist. A few years before Wong was born, his father was shot four times over a dispute involving Oakland Chinatown’s underground lottery. Thanks to the quick work of doctors at Highland Hospital, Wong’s father survived, and after retiring from the gambling business, he opened the Great China restaurant on a busy commercial stretch of Webster Street. William Gee Wong was born just around the corner, at the family’s house on Harrison Street, the youngest of seven children. Even after his family moved to the “China Hill” area east of Lake Merritt, one of the few neighborhoods open to Asian-Americans during the 1940s, William spent most of his time either working for the family business or at Lincoln School. This is why he says “Chinatown was my whole universe” for about the first 20 years of his life. As the decades passed, Bill learned journalism writing for The Daily Cal, before breaking racial barriers at the San Francisco Chronicle and Wall Street Journal. Eventually, he retu

A few years ago, Aussie Holcomb was going through a divorce, and her relationship with her dad wasn’t going well, either. Feeling lost and lonely, she began reading her grandparents’ old love letters, which had recently been uncovered after sitting at the back of a dusty closet for more than 60 years. As Aussie made her way through bundles of envelopes, the emotions captured in those letters spilled off the pages and infused her life with the contagious joy of young love. Wanting to retrace her grandparents’ path, the letters sparked an adventure that led Aussie to a remote corner of California, far from home. In this unlikely place, she found reconciliation with her dad, and much more. Listen to the full episode now to hear the love story of Ray Hertz and Ginny Stewart, as told by their granddaughter, Aussie Holcomb, and their son, Mark Hertz. Ray and Ginny’s letters, which were written between 1949 and 1951, are read by their dear friend Carl Weinberg and their daughter Tracy Hertz. You can see photos rela

The quickest way to start a dance party in the Bay Area is to play a Mac Dre song. Countless times, I’ve seen mellow crowds instantly transform as soon as the first few beats from hyphy hits like “Feelin’ Myself” and “Thizzle Dance” come blasting out of the speakers. Everyone from little kids to grandmas know how to bust the lyrics, the dance moves, and, of course, the thizz face. In the 17 years since his death, the Oakland-born, Vallejo-raised rapper’s popularity only continues to grow. Since his 2004 murder in Kansas City, rumors, accusations, and retaliatory violence have swirled around the unsolved case. Although nobody has ever been charged for the crime, investigative journalist Donald Morrison recently published an investigation that draws on 1,200 documents and dozens of interviews in order to fill in some of the missing puzzle pieces. Nothing will bring back the “Legend of the Bay”, but this article provides some stunning new clues that may help shed light on the devastating question: “Who killed M

When Andre Jones (AKA Natty Rebel) does a mural in Oakland’s Hoover-Foster neighborhood, he doesn’t just paint whatever he feels like. Andre meets with longtime residents, shop owners, and other local artists to dig into the area’s rich history. He’ll study old family photos to make sure the vibrant images that cover the walls along San Pablo Ave. reflect the people who walked these streets in the decades before he got here. Explaining this collaborative process, Jones said, “As a public artist, you become an art anthropologist, because you have to do the research so that you can add a little bit of background imagery to the [mural] that adds to the overall narration.” For the second volume of this Hoover-Foster Stories mini-series, I wanted to interview Jones because one of the most striking things that participants of the Black Liberation Walking Tour will notice in this neighborhood is the proliferation of street art. The organization that Jones founded, Bay Area Mural Program, has collaborated with crews

Oakland’s Hoover-Foster neighborhood encapsulates more than a century of Black Liberation struggles. It was a destination for migrants fleeing the Jim Crow South to find work in the East Bay’s booming shipyards or as Pullman Porters. The newcomers brought their music, cuisine, and creativity with them, changing California forever. Civil rights leaders, pioneering writers, revolutionary activists, and athletes who smashed through racist color barriers all lived and worked here. The elders who came of age during the post-World War II years recall growing up in a flourishing and close-knit community. However, as this ethnically diverse neighborhood became predominantly African American, the forces of institutional racism literally came crashing down upon it. The construction of freeways destroyed dozens of blocks of homes and businesses, displaced thousands, and encircled the area with a dangerous border of pollution and noise. Then a Drug War characterized by mass incarceration and police abuse flooded these