Pedro, Part II

San Pedro feels like home not just because the hilly neighborhoods and proximity to the ocean are a salve to my soul, but also because it's a city with history.

My own history with San Pedro began with school field trips to Marineland and a childhood friendship. Vanessa was a few years older than I was, the daughter of my parents' friend Carl. I relished our infrequent get togethers because she was bright and adventurous, and cared for me like the perfect big sister. I remember her piling pillows at the base of the stairs in her home then climbing aboard a piece of cardboard and flying down into them at full speed.

Vanessa lived in San Pedro and volunteered at the Marine Mammal Rescue Center (or perhaps it was the Cabrillo Marine Aquarium- octopi aren't mammals!). I remember her telling a captivating tale about how an octopus at the center could undo the lock on it's enclosure and would wander around the center at night. The thought of such a thing boggled my young mind- an exotic sea creature carefully waiting until its' keepers had left, then smartly undoing a lock and wandering around freely?! To learn that the unassuming octopus was not only intelligent but also rebellious was a delicious thought, and something I've always remembered.

My personal history with San Pedro clearly is minimal, but it has also always existed for me as a place in family legend. My mom grew up in the South Bay (in the beach cities of Manhattan and Redondo). Her father was a plumbing contractor and owned a tool rental yard on Pacific Coast Highway in Lomita, perhaps a mile from where I now work. The location is no longer used for that purpose, nor has it been for years. Sadly, he passed away from brain cancer approximately a decade before I was born. I'm sorry I didn't get to meet him, but it brings me comfort to know that I live and work in the same geographical sphere that he lived and worked in. Growing up, I occasionally heard a story from my mom about how he recruited her as his driver when he was ill. She was about fourteen years old and didn't have her license yet. On one occasion, she nearly had an accident attempting to shift while making a turn on a steep hill. The location? San Pedro.

Not having grown up in the South Bay myself, I haven't been exposed to prevailing opinion about the area- I'm more or less resticted to my own opinions. When my mom was young, prevailing opinion was that Pedro was a rough area, and understandably so. The Port and fishing industries were a magnet for immigrant men from around the world. It is still a very ethnically and socioeconomically diverse community, for better or for worse. For me personally, diversity makes a place better. My home is about a mile from the Trump Ocean Trails Golf Course in Rancho Palos Verdes, but I'm happy to be a resident of Los Angeles. I have all the beauty and wonder of RPV and very little of the snobbery.