Race Across San Francisco

Golden Gate Bridge

March 24, 2022

Shortly after arriving in San Jose, California, I texted my friend:

Hi Lisa! I made it to the hotel! And, I saw a palm tree! 🌴😃

Exciting! Lisa texted back. Are you up for a quick visit?

Yes, I’d love to see you!

A Joyful Meeting

“Lisa!” I squealed in delight, when she arrived at the hotel.

“Mary! You’re here!”

Lisa wore her hair halfway down, with a mauve turtleneck and violet sweater. A layered silver necklace and dangling earrings completed the fun, festive look.

“I love your outfit today,” I said. “So many pretty colors!”

“Thank you.” she smiled shyly. “I made the bead necklace myself.”

I listened to Lisa’s wedding preparation stories: who was arriving from out of town, and how she planned to decorate everything from the church to the wedding cake to the reception hall.

“And then my mom found these lovely little bird figurines in her china cabinet, and we decided they would make the perfect cake toppers,” Lisa finished. “So the Lord worked out everything for us in the end.”

I grinned. “You sound like a very happy bride-to-be.”

“I am so happy that you can be here!”

“Yay, and I am so happy to be here!”

We giggled, and it was just like old times in the convent’s novitiate, except now I was a married woman and Lisa was about to become one.

“I brought you some Hawaiian rolls, for a snack,” Lisa said, handing me a baggie with the treats. “And I thought I could help you with your directions for tomorrow.”

The next day, I had an in-person meeting with my editor Ruth in downtown San Francisco.

My friend used her phone to show me the way to the nearest Caltrain station. “You can pay for your parking when you get there,” she said. “As for sightseeing: the Golden Gate Bridge and Ghirardelli Square. And then of course we’ll see you at the rehearsal dinner tomorrow night!”

When we both started rubbing our eyes—it was about 11 pm in California, and 2 am, Michigan time—I did my friend-of-the-bride duty and sent Lisa home.

“Please try to get some sleep tonight,” I told her, as we exchanged one last hug. “You have some very busy days ahead of you.”

“I will. You try to get some sleep, too!”

I went to bed that night at peace, grateful to have made it to California for my dear friend Lisa’s wedding.

Morning Mishaps

The next day, I arrived at the Caltrain station late, and on the wrong side of the tracks.

A row of palm trees outside the Caltrain in the San Francisco Bay Area, California.

My phone’s GPS app had been deleted (courtesy of the kids?), so when I made one wrong turn in the unfamiliar California town, I quickly became more and more lost.

Should I take this highway or that one? Is that my exit?

After a great deal of fumbling and turnarounds in gas stations, I finally located a Caltrain station. Not the one Lisa had given me directions for, but it would work.

I hope the parking is free here. Although I couldn’t see any meters, it seemed too good to be true.

Once I’d boarded the train, I signed up for an Uber driver in San Francisco. Well, at least I tried signing up for one. After I entered my info onto their website, my phone froze the webpage with a spinning wheel of death.

Is it loading? Or just frozen?

After ten more minutes of this, I sighed. I wish James was here. My tech savvy husband would have figured it out, no problem.

I, however, could not. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get the Uber app to work. By the time I arrived downtown, I still had no ride to pick me up at the station.

I’ll just have to hail a taxi, then, I decided. Ruth said they stop by the train station sometimes.

What she’d actually said was that they used to line up by the train station – before the pandemic. Now in March 2022, the habits of San Francisco taxi drivers had apparently changed.

And not in my favor. When I stepped outside, there were no taxis in sight. I waited five more minutes, but no cabs came.

The Walk

Journey through the streets of San Francisco

What now?

My meeting place with Ruth was two miles away, across the city. I had forty minutes left to get there.

Alright then. I shrugged my backpack onto both shoulders. Let’s go!

My journey led me across the heart of the city. I raced past restaurants and convenience stores, theatres and souvenir shops. The morning weather was cloudy and cool, and a thin mist hovered over the buildings. Nothing really looked like what I’d seen when studying the travel books at home.

I passed by the strange shape of the Church of the Assumption, located on the top of a particularly difficult hill. The scent of Asian cooking, spring flowers, and car exhaust hovered over the sticky pavement. Every so often, I doubled my speedy pace to catch a pedestrian walk sign. I must’ve crossed twenty streets.

I reached Japantown with five minutes to go.  Nothing else for it, but to run. I pulled my backpack tight and booked it down the last hill.

Wait! Here’s your turn! I swerved around the corner, then sped walked the last two blocks to Saint Dominic’s Church.

A Fateful Meeting

Of all the places we could have met in San Francisco, my editor Ruth had chosen a Dominican church. Ruth regularly attended the church to pray the Divine Office with the friars.

Wow. We’re meeting outside a Dominican church to discuss my book about a Dominican convent.

More than ever, our meeting felt like fate.

When I reached the building, I smoothed down my hair and stopped to catch my breath. My jacket was soaked with sweat from my jog-run across the city, but hopefully she wouldn’t notice.

My editor Ruth stood only a few yards away. She was about 70 years old, with a stylish haircut and glasses. I waved as she turned in my direction.

“Hello,” she said. “Are you Mary?”

“Yes, it’s so good to meet you!”

My heart thrummed with excitement. I had raced across town, but that didn’t matter now. I had found Ruth, and I’d gotten here on time.

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Thank you so much for reading! Join me next week to hear about my insightful second meeting with Ruth. 🌴😎🌉📚

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