Russian River and Hanging Out with the Cousins

Growing up in SF, our favorite place to vacation, somewhat close to home, was Guerneville, at the Russian River. A neighbor and close friend of my Aunt and Uncle had a cabin on Old River Road, which we rented over the years since I was about four years old, as well as did my Aunt and Uncle. This was back in the day when there was a ferry boat that went up and down the river.

When we got older, we didn’t rent the house any more, however, every summer my Aunt and Uncle did. My parents were very protective and it took some major convincing by my Uncle John before my parents would let me go to the Russian River without them. I had to make a promise that was very hard to keep and that was that I would not go into the river.

Uncle John would come by on a Friday night after work, pick me up, and take me up to the cabin where my Aunt and three cousins were. I would stay for a week or two and Uncle John would take me back home when he returned on a Monday before going to work.

The cabin was not far from the muddy river. We went there every day. My cousins went into the water and there I was on the shore. When Uncle John was there for the weekends, my Aunt and Uncle coaxed me into the water with the kids. I had promised my folks I would not go in. I wrote to them every day, explaining how hard it was for me. I knew there was no way for them to give me some dispensation from their edict, but I felt better to just write it all down and hopefully make them feel guilty. Besides, the catholic school guilt kept me honest. After almost a week had passed, Uncle John practically threw me in the water. Once wet, I forgot my promise, as the damage was already done.

As I straddled an inflatable pool float with my legs locked to hold me on, my cousin Johnny somehow tipped me over. In my panic, I did not unlock my legs. The floater rose to the top with my feet still in locked position and my head under water. I remember thinking that God was punishing me and I was going to drown. I am not sure who helped me, but I remember trying to catch my breath after I was pulled out of the water. It scared the daylights out of me.

But the best thing that happened up there was going to Rio Nido to the teen dances. The dances were fun. Surfers were real popular in those days, and those blond tan boys were fun to be around. My Dad would have flipped his lid if he knew that Uncle John and Auntie Lil let us go to the dances sans adults.

Uncle John was very lenient compared to my Dad. My cousin, Janet, (5 months younger than me) was lucky because she was allowed to do things I could never do. Uncle John was shocking too.

I was more physically endowed than my cousin, and once when we were going to walk into the town of Guerneville less than a mile away, he said to her, “Janet, if you are going to walk into town with her, you’d better walk with your Ba-zooms out.” He didn’t say ba-zooms, he said the “T” word. OMG, I was shocked. My Dad would NEVER ever say such a thing.

I may have been more physically endowed, but Janet looked like a California girl with her pretty blond hair. She was half Italian and half Yugoslavian (Croatian) like me but reversed in that her mom was the Italian and her dad was the Yugoslavian. Since we were the same nationalities, I could not figure out why she and her brothers were all blondes while my siblings and I were all brunettes. It was unfair.

I remember Janet calling me to tell me she saw her Dad naked. I only saw my Dad in what he called “skivvies” so I listened intently. Apparently, her little brother was in his highchair, her Mom was in the basement doing laundry, and Uncle John was in the shower. There was a huge noise in the kitchen when the highchair and little Michael fell over and he was screaming bloody murder. Uncle John dashed out of the shower bare-ass naked without a towel, and the water from the shower made him slip and slide across the kitchen floor like he was sliding into home plate, and there he lay with the family jewels totally exposed. The baby was fine, Janet was unscathed, and Uncle John never discussed it again. I still laugh about it to this day as I still have that mental image planted in my mind.

We hung around a lot together when we were young, especially when our Dads attended the 49er games at Kezar Stadium with our parish priest. Our favorite thing to do was to go to either the Granada or the Amazon Theatres in my neighborhood in SF to see two movies and a cartoon. Sometimes we went to her movie theatre in the Bernal Heights area. Not sure what its name was, but we lovingly called it “the fleabag.” It didn’t matter where we went; we loved the movies and Rock Hudson, Doris Day, Elvis, Natalie Wood, John Wayne, Elizabeth Taylor, Debbie Reynolds, Susan Hayward, Kim Novak, and Sandra Dee. We were real movie buffs. I had photos of Audie Murphy on my wall in the bedroom that I shared with two of my brothers. He was not only an actor but also a war hero and he was pretty good looking. If I remember correctly, I wanted to marry him when I was younger, but then I also wanted to marry Mario Lanza too, so what did I know.

We sure had fun back then when the world was much more innocent. There were things for kids to do and enjoy without breaking the bank. The two afternoon movies only cost us fifty cents for at least four hours of enjoyment. It was pretty cheap to take the whole family to the movies back then. Dad bought us each a Charm brand lollipop and some jujubes that would last through the movies and the price of admission for a family of four and candy would not even cost $6. We even had a drawing for prizes at intermission. Not at all like today. A movie and candy for the family of four would cost over $40, and in this economy, it would leave a big dent in your wallet.