Despite the long summer in Antioch, my dad sensed something was up with his job at Fiberboard. he talked to his sponsors from the soccer club, Hakoah, asking if there was possibly a job there in the textile business. Most of the board of the team were German Jews who had connections with Levi and Boxer.
Although one of the reasons my dad fleed from his country was because he felt doomed. He saw no future in the textile business, and getting more schooling was not an option. He heard about that "Golden opportunity", and all the greatness sent from Hollywood. It was like chasing a rainbow with eternal hope.
Lo and behold, it was the textile business that served as his savior as a took on a job not unlike the one he left at home. He took the job, and hesitantly said yes, only to find out that day that he had been laid off by Fiberboard.
My mom was rather confused and dizzied by all the moves in such a short time. My dad convinced her that she would feel more at home. The temperatures were more like Amsterdam, and it had all the lures of a large city. The cosmopolitan flair certainly wasn't a deterrent.
I don't remember how we got there. We still had no car.
There wasn't much to pack up, so off we went to San Francisco.
Arguello Street, Porky and Bess, listening to a neighbor dying from lung cancer. Golden Gate Park.
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