The Way We Were

A few weekends ago when a Tahoe getaway fell through, I took a trip of another sort—a trip down memory lane. What happened was my friend and Los Gatos High School ’82 classmate Steve Corona created a Facebook page called “Things I Remember Growing Up in Los Gatos.” After two days, it went micro-viral. Here's how the virtual reunion went down.

7:51 a.m., Saturday

Some thoughtful person adds me to the group. Quickly I discover the page is like a drug. Wandering back dreamlike to my youth makes me feel good. It’s better than Vicodin or a skinny girl margarita.

I’m not the only one who feels this way. People keep returning to the page over and over again. The posts fly into my email inbox so fast, it’s impossible to keep up. Some stories date back to the '50s but most are from the '70s and '80s, my era.

8:12 a.m. 
Someone asks: Does anyone remember Jolly?  

Do I ever. Jolly 5 and Dime was a kid’s paradise that took up the entire and building. My fingers start typing … I got busted there once for shoplifting a PB&J candy bar when I was 11. I’ll never forget sitting in the manager’s office crying, waiting for hours until my mom got off work and picked me up.

9:16 a.m. 
Ding! 17 new “Things I Remember Growing Up in Los Gatos” emails.  Boy, this is fun!

How about back-to-school shopping at Christlows?

9:17 a.m.
Instantly there are 29 comments about the department store (now ) where we bought our Dittos and Danskin leotards and Levi’s 501s. Mariah: I scored an electric blue satin Hang Ten jacket one year. I wonder if she put it on her parent’s tab? Back then kids could simply sign for their groovy threads–no cash necessary.

10:45 a.m.
Quick bathroom break. I rush back to my computer. The wall is on fire with memories of fine dining. 

There was Bumbleberry’s, a gloried coffee/pie shop located where swanky now sits. And who can forget The Noodle Palace, a gigantic spaghetti emporium that gobbled up the entire square /Verizon/Mad Hattress block?

We’re too PC now, reminsces Bob, but I remember Sunday breakfast at Sambo’s (currently ). It was decorated with scenes from the book. The pancake stacks seemed a mile high and we were allowed to pour all the syrup we wanted!

11:49 a.m.
Don remembers when the town was invaded by "cruisers'' every Sunday night. The kids would inch their cars up and down N. Santa Cruz Avenue, flirting with foxy potential hookups. The gridlock got so crazy, cops started checking ID's and ticketing out of towners. Locals were limited to two round trips.

Soon we move on to first jobs. In the blink of an eye there are 220 comments. 

Jill: Worked as a barista at Mimi’s Rooftop cafe llllooooooonnnng before there was a .

Mary Jane (name changed to protect the stoned): Slinging caramel apples at Morrow’s Nut House in Old Town downstairs! … once all us employees got high on pot brownies and didn’t know where we were! We gave out free food to all our friends!

Speaking of getting high, a comment emerges from the wall like smoke from Cheech and Chong’s van … How about The Galatic Zoo, the ’70s head shop near Domus? … they sold bongs and black light posters and Acapulco Gold shirts.

1:25 p.m. 
Okay. I’ve got to get off Facebook. Time to go bike riding with the kids and enjoy the beautiful day.

2:02 p.m. 
Cut the ride short, rush in, log on. “Mom, you’re so addicted to Facebook,” grumbles my 14-year-old, calling the Zuckerberg kettle blue, white and black.

7:02 p.m.
Can’t tear myself away from computer. Quickly email Steve, the mastermind behind the page. Can you believe how this thing blew up? I ask. He can’t. In only its first day, the page has amassed 40 members and hundreds of posts. Steve thinks it's the perfect summer escapist fare, transporting people back to a less complicated time. Just think, he says, there was no Internet back then. It forced us to hang out. We had an independence that kids don’t have now.

Ding! New email.

As if she read Steve’s mind, Helen posts: Remember hitching over the hill to the beach without fear of being picked up by a serial killer? I miss the 80s.

8:38 p.m. 
John remembers waterskiing on Lexington Reservoir before school! Seriously? I fill up a second glass of wine. This is too good to leave.

10:45 p.m.
I really should go to bed but I don’t want to miss anything. Besides someone just called out for classic high school memories …

Tori: In Ag Science class, Mr. Verkhyle delivered twin baby lambs and one wasn’t breathing so he took a rope and put it around its neck and swung it around to bring it back to life. Not your TYPICAL high school class-I’ll NEVER forget it.
 
Ahh, the gloriously un-P.C. late ‘70s when there was a designated smoking section on campus, and front lawn streakers entertained us while we sipped Tab at lunch.

Midnight
Don, who has been mainlining the page like me all day, musters one final post—I'm on East Coast time. I’m heading to bed.

Not me. I’m wide awake.

2:13 a,m,
Holly: Okay. Remember the NEW tanning booths!!??

Of course I do. Me and my mom tried it once, but nothing compared to frying in our yard with Baby Oil and Sun-In.

2:35 a.m.
Brush teeth. Crawl into bed.

Sunday, 7:15 a.m.
Get up. Check my email. Inbox deluged with 564 new emails.

Luckily, one message is from some chick I don’t know (Thank you Debi, whoever you are). Just a reminder ... she writes. If you've just joined, be sure to go up to the settings and uncheck the send messages to email or you're gonna be swamped with mail. LOL

I quickly change my settings and quit the “Things I Remember” habit cold turkey. It’s back to skinny girl margs for me.

Except for the purposes of researching this article, of course.

At last count, the page blasted past 1,235 members with more than 3,000 posts.

I think Don (East Coast time) summed it up best:

Most of all I remember being surrounded by great friends, good families, feeling completely safe everywhere in town, and feeling blessed to grow up in a town like Los Gatos. Still a nice place today, but back then it was absolute paradise.

Check out Kim Ratcliff and Chigiy Binell's blog, laughingattheground.com.