With a taste of “Sewing, Cooking, and Community”
A collaboration with Angie Mosier , and an array of other fantastic local chefs, farmers, oral historians and Natalie Chanin
This workshop is suited to beginners and experienced alike. Work with Natalie Chanin and our Alabama Chanin Packages to create one of the following projects from our Alabama Stitch Book.
Lunch & Stories provided by Angie Mosier as a sampling from our Alabama Studio Weekend Workshop “Sewing, Cooking, and Community” – recipes included.
The Alabama Stitch Workshop by Natalie Chanin provides packages for a day of sewing. These kits include everything you will need to complete one of the following:
Update/Corrections
Some updates were made on the web site http://mgversion2.free.fr and a corrected file of the June issue mgv2_65 was uploaded today. Access it via the web site and follow the current issue link.
George Le Milan
Bruno Labatut-Couairon
Jean-Luc Lamouillé Vincent Laurent
Christophe Lacampagne
Alain Lacouchie
Mélanie Lafonteyn
Max Laire Dandelion de LaRue Michael Lecomte
Gérard Lemaire
Eric Lemoine Jean-Pierre Lesieur Ellaraine Lockie Dimitri Lyacos
John Macmahon Carl Magnan
Frédéric Maire Chris Major
Scott Malby Patrice Maltaverne
Patrick Marcadet
Jacqueline Marcus
Marjan Gilbert Marquès
Louis Mathoux
Alan May
Craig John McCafferty
Claire Ménanteau Suchoon Mo
Donatien Moisdon Bruno Morello
Morgane Tendai R. MWanaka
Roland Nadaus Erich von Neff
[Image below. The Moss Beach Gas Station (that stood on the east side of Hwy 1) Mrs. Parker refers to in her letter. My neighbor, Mrs. Pacini, a longtime Coastsider, now in her 90s, believes some of her relatives are pictured,]
[ Thank you Mrs. Parker, who is Elaine Martini Teixeira’s cousin. More pix coming.]
[Image below: “My father and his two brothers lived and worked at this ranch when they first came to America.” Mrs. Parker’s father is the last man standing in the back row.]
Dear Ms. Morrall,
As you will see I am not a writer.
I will do the best I can.
I wish I could tell you more.
May name is Sylvia nee Belli Parker.
I’m now a widow living in Cameron Park. I was born August 21, 1920. At that time we were living in one part of the house of Peter B. Kyne [the author] where my father farmed the land nearby.
[Image below: “My father loved his cars. This was in front of the Kyne house, Moss Beach.”]
We later moved to a house, he (my father) had built on Etheldore (in Moss Beach) –
[Below: Images of the house then and now. I hope I got them in the right order]
It’s across the street from the grammar school.
Also across the street –later– a bocce ball was situated In the background
is the home of my mother’s brother, Roy Torre, and his wife, Pia, nee Nerli and children, David and June.
[Image below: “Torre Home on Sunshine Valley Road.” It was also a grammar school at one time.]
My father was born in 1889 in San Donato near Lucca in Tuscany, Italy. In 1906 he came to Moss Beach. He was sponsored by a local farmer.
[Image below: “Father farming near the railroad”]
He became a USA citizen in 1917. He was quite ambitious and later farmed artichokes and sprouts on some of the land that now is the airport near Princeton. In 1917 he married my mother, Rose Torre.
My mother was born in 1898 to Octavia and Eugenia Torre
[Image below: “Love this picture of my grandfather Octavio Torre.]
in San Francisco. After the San Francisco earthquake, the family moved to Moss Beach on Sunshine Valley. I’m sure that my aunt Lillian (Torre) Renard will tell you more of the Torre family.
I failed to mention he (Mrs.Parker’s father) built the service station in Moss Beach.
You have a picture of it and of him in your book, “Half Moon Bay Memories.” The other two people I’m not sure; I think they rented and operated the station.
In 1932 –we–my father, mother and I traveled to Italy where we stayed with relations for three months. When we returned he built the Half Moon Bay Inn.
[Image below: The Half Moon Bay Inn on Main Street, before and today.]
He leased it to Charles Carlini (not a good idea). So–my father took it over–I think it was in 1936.
The Moss Beach house was sold to my mother’s sister Eva and her husband Albert Quilici (ed. I have to re-check the spelling] and we moved to an apartment in the Half Moon Bay Inn.
I attended Half Moon Bay High School and graduated in 1935. I commuted to San Mateo Junior College. Before I even completed the first year he (my father) converted one corner of the Half Moon Bay Inn into a soda fountain and made me the proprietor at the age of 18 and a half. I operated it all through World War 2–quite an experience. Also very successful.
[Image below: “My cousin Raymond Martini home on leave.”]
In 1944 I married Jack Parker, a local young man. We lived in the apartment above the fountain. Son Jack was was born in 1947. In 1949 we moved to San Bruno into a new home.
My husband worked for RCA in San Francisco and was an excellent professional musician (trumpet). My daughter Janet was born in 1953. She was a well known journalist with the San Mateo Times. She married James Beck from San Bruno. Sadly, at the age of 41 she died, leaving a five-year-old daughter Amanda.
Our son, Jack, graduated from San Jose State. So did Janet. He became a music teacher and married Sally Graham. They have two sons—22 and 28 years old.
After [my husband] Jack retired, we moved to Cameron Park in 1981. I continue to live here. My son, Jack and his wife lived Rancho Murieta. I wish I could tell you more but I think you have more in your book, “Half Moon Bay Memories.”
Forgot to mention —-I can’t recall the date my mother and father were living in which is now called Pacifica (at that time it was Edgemar). He had a bar there. In May 1956 he was trying to repair a garage door. The spring broke loose from the wall and hit his skull. He died two days later. After that mother lived in Burlingame and later with me. She died in a convalescent home in 1963.
Sylvia Parker June 2009
[Image below: Family picture]
While visiting the Chamarita, drop by Deb and Michael Wong’s Spring Mountain Gallery Opening tomorrow, Saturday, at 890 Main Street, a short walk from the historic festivities.
Hi June,
Been busy at the gallery since we moved there, and little time on the PC, except for when I’m doing jobs for clients! Just finished a poster of a graduate with her new car – Michael took the photos, then I worked on all the images, & made the poster. Did a lot of scans/restores for another client today, in addition to the framing jobs. Re-did Fayden Holmboe’s business cards for his officiant business (I designed them using one of Michael’s wedding shots) & when Fayden came in to pick them up, he mentioned you, said that you have a photo of him in your blog when he was younger, wearing basically the same clothes as he does today. We are that way, as well…we’re just plain folks, I guess. Fayden has been performing weddings at the Oceano, says that Nancy Neerhan is great to work with.
O.k., you asked for some hot pix, but right now I have nothing really exciting. Attached are pics of some of the jobs we worked on today, and of our new lighted OPEN sign, with our Grand Opening banner made by our friend Art Jurado. I also took a shot of the big office space that Scott Frazier is letting us use for our opening party, as our gallery is too tiny to host it completely. Michael put up a lot of our photos on the walls, and we set up a table where his daughter Kaitlyn and her friends will be pouring the wine & sodas.
What we didn’t know when we chose the 30th is that it coincides with the 138th Annual Holy Ghost Festival. Well, if anyone gets bored at our place, they can stroll up the street – 1 block up – for carnival rides and other festivities.
Right now, Michael is talking to his daughter Kaitlyn about what food to bring…….he’s asking me what I think…gotta go….more later!
Take care,
Deb
[Images below and above from Deb and Michael Wong. “Workload” and “Big Room”
Story by former Coastsider Silvia Scheibli, who now lives and heads the English department at a school in Arizona. Silvia is also a well known published poet.
[Note: This weekend Silvia and four “experienced” friends, fluent in Spanish, traveled across the border into Mexico to buy special tequila– like “moonshine,” she told me because the alcohol is homemade. This is not illegal, and it is well known, but not a recommended adventure for amateur American tourists. Along the way, they passed through a fantastic canyon, that in February showed no sign of the huge murals she saw on this trip, her first. When they got hungry, the friends stopped at a small house and asked where they could have lunch–they were sent to an old woman’s home where she prepared a meal for the tequila-seekers.]
Says Silvia: I have some pictures from our trip to Banamichi, Arizpe and Cucurpe. All fascinating, sleepy little towns south of the border close to the foothills of the Sierra Madre where the marijuana is being grown, also known as the profitable crop. Saw a few narco homes, but mainly we stayed out of the dangerous areas.
I took pictures of old churches, pictographs, a modern hotel and murals in a canyon with wild horses and burros. The tequila we brought back is known as bacanorra and is home-made in the mountains. It can not be purchased anywhere else other than in this region. The business was in a house next to a cemetery.
A woman and her twin girls poured the stuff into a gallon water bottle for us and gave us a shot for the road. Instant buzz!
When we pulled out of the driveway, three adult males left by the back door. We had not seen them at all while we were in the kitchen and it was a very small place. The probably left to buy beer.
I grew up in Half Moon Bay. Well at least from 1966 to 1978. In 1978 I returned home to Hawaii. I was hanai (adopted Hawaiian style by my great-grand-mother). My mother growing up in Papakoleo (lands squatted on by Hawaiians) she learned Portuguese from going to Nuuanu stream, which cut directly through the prominent Portuguese community of Punchbowl.
I am sorry to say all I can remember of the coastside was FOG! 1972 you must remember FOG. It was even thicker when I was younger. How many of those Silicon Valley yuppies would stay 5 minutes once the fog hit? I go to HMB now to visit and there is sun, incredible! HMB has a beautiful history and seeing your article about Chamarita was heart warming. My mother would always eavesdrop on the Portuguese and found it wasn’t that much harder to eavesdrop on the Spanish speakers.
I remember getting out of school half day to go to Chamarita on Friday. The horse race was the big thing. Anybody who was a pillar of HMB society had a Horse Clock won at the Chamartia. I believe it was impossible to win the clock in one year, so you would trade up every year to you reached the horse clock.
It is funny because the California coast has so many Portuguese, it was rumored that the Portuguese that were to be taken to Hawaii got sea sick an jumped ship (which left them in Cali). That makes sense because looking at the local (Hawaii) Portuguese and the Cali Portuguese you see the same strength and farming abilities. Bet because Hawaii is such a multi-cultural place Portuguese know they are Portuguese! In Cali they think they are Hoale (white-people). Take it from me Portuguese are HARD workers!
Have you ever heard of Frank Delima? I admire your web site and the type of work you do. I would like to say I have fond memories of Chamarita, but to be honest they were just drunk fun times! HMBPD didn’t want us to parade Willie da midget down Main street on a hand truck. How about the bowling alley next to where Gilcreast drugs use to be. I remember Angeline’s store (kitty corner HMB Inn) he looked just like the guy from Mission Impossible.
In time my classmates will be living treasures. Pete Peterson (his wife Janice Boralloti) and Mateo Pacheco. It wasn’t just the Portuguese, the Italians made great contributions. It not we wouldn’t of had Mr. HMB (Salamone’s) Bakery (Kandi another classmate).
From Walter Ruhlmann in France:
Says Silvia: I have some pictures from our trip to Banamichi, Arizpe and Cucurpe. All fascinating, sleepy little towns south of the border close to the foothills of the Sierra Madre where the marijuana is being grown, also known as the profitable crop. Saw a few narco homes, but mainly we stayed out of the dangerous areas.
Story by Joseph w. Guillaume