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Lilith Owl
How often do we have a chance to write a personal biography, that people might even read?! For this California woman not often, so I'm gonna go ahead and keep it real by starting from the beginning.. Wanna get to know me?
Born Sunny M M***** in San Jose on June 12 1986 (give or take) . My family migrated from San Jose to Vallejo California in the early 80's. My grandparents owned two small bait shops one under the 37 bridge and one on Georgia street in Old Vallejo. I don't remember too much of the Georgia street shop but I do have many memories of the 37bridge shop.
In the '80s under that very tall bridge sat a little walk-up bait shop and coffee stand. The Bait Shop supplied Worms and Shrimp hooks sinkers bobbers line swivels etc....we also served coffee and sweets hotdogs and probably beer to the anglers. Just outside stretched a long pier Id say 50 yards into the bay. Where the Locals cast their line and talked about grown-up stuff. Of course, the "regulars" the fishermen who we saw most days would get bait at the shop and tease us girls (the granddaughters) or buy us packs of double mint or juicy fruit gum. We were strictly instructed to politely return greetings and gracefully accept compliments. Yes Please No Thank you Hi and Bye etc... As long as we would stick to the script our exchanges were brief and my cousins and I could get back to our games and play.
We would go exploring the Marsh. Trample through the tullys try to stay out of the deep mud that would suck you in like quicksand. I remember my Aunt who lived in Vacaville came with my newest baby cousin. I rushed back to the shop to greet her. I arrived to find my aunt upset carrying on about dropping my cousin onto the asphalt. The tiny cousin rolled out of her car seat and continued to roll down the slope towards the water! I believe my older cousin (8yrs old) rescued her sister before taking the plunge. I don't remember saying this but apparently, in an attempt to console her I said something creepy like "well aunt Donnie better than a sharp stick in her eye."! Which served as a long-time joke for our family. Probably the first indication that the lord would never bless me with a child of my own to drop. Soon the bait shops were sold and my grandparents bought a shrimping boat and we were all now commercial fishermen in the San Fransisco Bay.
My mother and father both worked on the boat as well as my Aunts and sometimes even my uncles (on my father's side) made an appearance or two. My father would scuba dive under the boat to do repairs he was a Navy man as well as my grandfather. Although shrimping was my mother's side, before my dad and she separated, my Dad was very close to my grandparents. Fond memories of spending nights with my grandparents. Waking super early my grandmother would wrap me up in blankets and oversized hand-me-down sweaters and jackets. The long day would start with a ride in the pick-up to where ever the boat was docked. Carefully walk down the dark damp salty floating dock and into the cabin of the old fishing boat, probably built in the 1940s. My grandmother would set me up in the corner of the cabin next to a propane heater. Patently waiting for the Little Debbie cinnamon rolls to warm up atop the heater instructed not to catch on fire. She would man the boat out of the pier while my Grandfather worked in the engine area. I'm sure that engine ran on diesel fuel but required a loud dose of my grandpa's encouraging adult language to start.
Out of the pier and into the bay the hunt began for the grass shrimp. I would watch the sun come up and the land disappear. The Dark skies and stars fade to Beautiful Orange yellow and red as the sun rose and turned the heavens bright blue. That was when I was finally allowed to leave the cabin and roam freely in a life jacket around the boat. The days were long and hard and I remember my excitement to see land again which meant home soon.
Once they put my grandparents' picture in the newspaper because Humphrey the Whale bumped the boat. Humphery got stuck in the bay looking for food. My beautiful grandma made the comment in the article about the incident but I remember how she disliked the picture. She was going through chemo and had lost all her beautiful native American long black hair. But ask anyone and they will tell you she was beautiful all the way to the day she was gone from this place.
Humphrey survived and made it back to sea but others didn't and my father has memories of walking around on a beached whale before understanding what it was. The poor Humpback whales were also after the shrimp. It deeply troubles me the way we affect and starve murder and destroy our planet air water land and all the animals. Although I have fond memories of shrimping I sincerely apologize for all the damage caused by our human arrogance. To pay homage and to always remember I only wear solid black everyday.
enough ancient history. i'll pick up with my teens at another time. so stay tuned... thanks for reading.