130 Paulson Lane: A Family Home that the Freeway Took

We lived in the best house and neighborhood growing up.

In 1963, my parents purchased a home in Walnut Creek, California. They had been living in a rental on East 9th Street in Pittsburg, that had two bedrooms for six people. My parents made the dining room into their bedroom and the girls had one of the upstairs bedrooms and the boys had the other. It was definitely too small for the growing family.

There were probably other factors in the decision as well. They were paying for tuition to St. Peter Martyr School for two kids. The schools in Walnut Creek were top-notch, so they would not need to pay tuition in the new town. My father got a new job at Loray Market in Walnut Creek and the commute added to his time away from home. The new home was only three blocks away and he would walk if my mother needed the car.

How my parents pulled it off financially was with the help of my grandparents and their friends. I believe money was loaned to them for the down payment and other money loaned to put in a savings account to show they had assets. My dad had a good union job as a member of the Retail Clerks Union. He often worked Sunday shifts because he got paid double-time.

The New Home
The new home was one story and much larger, with three bedrooms and one and one-half baths. The walls, except in the bedrooms, were made of knotty pine. It also had central heating, so good-bye to the single floor furnace the old house had.

The kitchen was large with an in-kitchen eating area. The electric stove-top sat on an aisle and the double ovens were along one wall. A large cupboard was used as a pantry. Later, when we got a portable dishwasher, it lived in the center as an island and cooking prep area. This was the place where my mother spent most of her time cooking and baking in the kitchen, and sewing at the kitchen table. The kitchen table also served as the gathering place for the family whether doing homework or playing board and card games. It was a noisy place, too, with either the radio or portable television playing.

The living room had three distinct areas: a corner nook with two large picture windows in the corner, a dining area that we used for the T.V. room in another corner, and the center with a fireplace with flanking bookcases. Our Christmas trees were set up in the corner nook by the windows until my dad got a desk and that became his office. Many little skits were performed by the children at the fireplace, used as a stage. When entertaining, it was the place for conversation and hors d’oeuvres.

The best part of the house was the neighborhood. The narrow, tree-lined street had only eight houses. At the end of the street was Las Trampas Creek, where we often explored for polliwogs and swam in the deep pools. It was so country-like that it was amazing being just a few blocks from downtown. Our mother sent us out to play after breakfast or lunch and we would not return until hearing the dinner bell. What fun it was to play outdoors.

Two more children were born and the doubling up in the bedrooms became too crowded. My parents hired a contractor to convert the garage into a room that became their bedroom, and the sunporch was filled in with windows, which became the T.V. room/spare eating area during parties. Now, with eight people, there were two to a room again.

The Freeway
Fast-forward to 1988, Cal Trans had plans to widen Interstate 680 and the properties on the east side of Paulson Lane were taken by eminent domain. It was not a happy time, as my mother did not want to move and she did not like any of the houses the real estate agent showed her, as they were in housing developments without the country feel of Paulson Lane. Other neighbors were not happy either, but the freeway expansion could not be stopped.  

Luckily for my parents, the house across the street became vacant when the owners’ children settled them into a rest home. My parents purchased the property and moved into 141 Paulson Lane. Cal Trans paid for the packing and moving, and typical of government agencies, the packed items were put into a moving van and then driven across the street to unpack! My mother could just shrug her shoulders at the waste.

141 Paulson Lane served my parents well. Most of us had moved out already but enjoyed coming home for holiday parties, visits, and swims in the pool. After my mother died in 1992, my father continued living there, continuing the tradition of family over for major holidays and summer pool parties.

When it got to be too much for him to take care of the house and yard, he accepted an offer from a developer who planned to put in housing at the end of the street. So now, instead of three large properties, there are now eighteen houses bunched up closer together.

Whenever I drive by Paulson Lane, I find myself wondering about the creek. It was just a narrow strip of water at the end of a quiet street, but to us it was wilderness. The freeway took the house, the developer took the trees, but I like to think the creek is still out there somewhere, running along under everything. Do the children living there now explore it as we did?

#52Ancestors: Week 12 – An Address With a Story

This is my ninth year working on this year-long prompt, hosted by Amy Johnson Crow (https://www.amyjohnsoncrow.com/) at Generations Cafe. I write each week in one of my two blogs, either Mam-ma’s Southern Family or My Trails into the Past. I have enjoyed writing about my children’s ancestors in new and exciting ways.

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