"Sisterly Companionship"
#174: Birth Day, Sisters, Immigrant Portraits, Lia Pas, Kate Mapother, Josh Johnson, Bayou Manila Men, Sugar Pie DeSanto, and Raye.
THEN & NOW
Aside from what I’ve written previously about my birth in October of 1951, I haven’t yet found much information about the event (although there were many letters before and after October). There were, however, many many photos of me. Dad had gifted Mom with a new camera, and she went crazy with it.
I do know that I was born in the old French Hospital in the Richmond District of the City. A number of hospitals in San Francisco were founded by ethnic groups who felt they would not receive good care from public hospitals. There was a Chinese hospital in Chinatown, but I suspect Mom went to the French hospital because of its Catholic affiliation. The Hospital had been established in 1851 by the French Benevolent Society to tend to French immigrants during and after the Gold Rush days of California. It tended to the injured during the great tremblement1 of 1906. Today, it’s known as the French campus of Kaiser Permanente on Geary Blvd.
My mother Trinidad (“Trining”) and her sister Leonarda (“Dading”) had originally hoped to arrive together in San Francisco—a strategy that would help to alleviate the pain of their separation. It would ease Mom’s transition to a new country, allow the sisters to give moral support to each other (especially since my father was at sea), and would also help fulfill Aunt Dading’s career ambitions to attend an American college to study mathematics and eventually to teach. A number of the letters mailed to my mom between 1950 and 1953 were from her sister.
There was constant discussion of the plan for Aunt Dading’s emigration, what it would cost, and how they could secure the funds. When I first started reading their letters, I guessed from various hints that my grandmother was dead-set against the plan. But one letter from Aunt Dading suggested that it was more like she was maddeningly hands-off. Perhaps her mother had decided not to discuss it further.
My aunt seemed to trust my father like a brother, and in 1950 she wrote to him asking for guidance about the issue. I haven’t seen his reply.
Time changes everything. After several years, my aunt revealed to my parents that she had met a special someone. Her engagement and marriage to Fred Lomuntad effectively put an end to her emigration plan.
In 1953, my parents and I were living in San Francisco at 702 Vallejo St., just across the street from our previous apartment. In her letter of Dec. 2nd, Aunt Dading wrote to her elder sister:
It is also an added joy to think that you had succeeded in adopting yourself to the customs of that strange land which you now call your home. I still long for those days … which brings to me tender memories of our sisterly companionship. Your presence was always a constant source of moral support and I always look up to your mature experience for guidance and leadership. Those days will never return, but their kind memories will always be treasure to my dying day.
My aunt seemed to have adjusted, albeit sadly, to the idea that their “sisterly companionship” would have to be at a distance. Although she had no children at the time of her writing, she confided that “the stork will have a visit in April.” I’m sure that, during their pregnancies, having each other nearby would’ve been a great comfort. But it was not to be.
RABBIT HOLE
Portraits of an immigrant-filled nation (KQED) from a Los Angeles exhibition entitled “With Liberty and Justice for Some”:
Disabled multidisciplinary artist Lia Pas is participating in this year’s Opulent Mobility 2024 show, which asks “artists to re-imagine disability as opulent and powerful.” Check out her artwork on The Slowest Thread. And if you’re in the L.A. area, stop by the Opulent Mobility show before it closes on December 29.
When poet and essayist Kate Mapother thinks of breakfast sandwiches, she thinks of Ronnie. Because “being nourished by someone is a love language all its own. A belonging with no equal.” From Life at the Bottom of the Canyon.
Comedian Josh Johnson on the Failure, Fear, and Frenzy around Luigi Mangione:
The “Manila Men” (and women!) of St. Malo, Louisiana, by Kirby Araullo:
SOUNDINGS
R.I.P. Filipino American vocalist and force of nature Sugar Pie DeSanto (Peylia Marsema Balinton), who grew up in the Fillmore district of San Francisco.
Raye covers Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good.”
Season’s Greetings to all my readers. Have a great holiday . . .
Sincere appreciation to all of you who read Eulipion Outpost regularly, and to those who have subscribed here or donated on my Ko-fi page to support my efforts.
My ongoing appreciation goes to the Mysterious M. for his editing.
Website and blog: Jeanvengua1.wordpress.com
A Crooked Mile (blog).
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The earthquake.