Climate RWC – February 2023

Profile: Redwood City's No. 1 Power Couple

Spotlight: No Greater Love

History: The Fate of the USS Thompson, Part 2

ISSUE NINETY • FEBRUARY • 2023

Who's Complaining?

By Janet McGovern

142 WARWICK STREET, REDWOOD CITY

Brand new, custom built, executive home with detached ADU in the prestigious Edgewood Park neighborhood! Exceptional craftsmanship with design elements of an organic modern concept throughout. The gracious entry leads to a light-filled, formal living room. Gourmet kitchen with top-of-the-line appliances, center island with breakfast bar that opens to the incredible dining area and family room with fireplace. Tucked off the entry you have a private en-suite to welcome family and friends. Rounding out this level is a perfectly placed half bath, office/craft room, and convenient mudroom/laundry room. Upstairs you have a grand primary suite with balcony, spa-like bathroom and walk-in closet. Just down the hall you’ll find two additional spacious en-suites. Located at the rear of the property, the 2 bedroom, 1 bathroom ADU was thoughtfully designed to maximize functionality and flow. Relax or entertain in the beautiful backyard with great patio with lovely lawn area. Located a short distance from both downtown Redwood City and San Carlos restaurants and shops, parks, hiking trails and major streamlined commute routes.

I“I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore!”

Some 45 years ago, that line from the movie “Network” helped spur California’s famous tax revolt. The ensuing Proposition 13 radically reduced property taxes and set a two-thirds majority vote for future increases. Among other things, the initiative contributed to Silicon Valley’s astronomic rise in home values, which now underpin many residents’ comfortable lives and retirements. It has also been blamed for everything from poor public services to bad breath.

Today, appetites for new taxes, especially for things like schools and roads, may be higher. This month, our inveterate Janet McGovern looks at today’s seemingly more relaxed attitudes about paying local taxes and what voters are getting for their money.

Public monies flow through public officials. Many politicians these days have a well-deserved bad reputation. But especially at the city level, many others are essentially volunteers who spend a second shift every day trying to better their communities. One of them is former Redwood City Mayor Georgi LaBerge.

Climate writer Jill Singleton visited with LaBerge and her equally remarkable husband, Rev. Warren Dale, who co-founded the Peninsula Conflict Resolution Center. Their story is both heartwarming and inspiring.

Far from inspiring was one of America’s ugliest chapters—the internment of citizens of Japanese ancestry during World War II. But even in a dark time prompted by bigotry and fear, neighbors and friends rose to help. In Redwood City, a banker named J. Elmer Morrish looked after the finances and businesses of many families that had been shipped to Utah, the California desert and other faraway places. In a fascinating special report, history professor Kevin Kaatz of Cal State East Bay chronicles Morrish’s efforts on behalf of his fellow Americans and the lasting gratitude that resulted.

On a far lighter note, most rock music fans know the Creedence Clearwater Revival tune, “Stuck in Lodi Again.” If that thought isn’t chilling enough, how about frigid Bemidji, Minnesota? Does anyone even know where that is? Jay Clemens, a Peninsula attorney, certainly does. His account of being stranded before dawn at the Bemidji airport one day last month will give you the shivers—and a good laugh.

And as they say on the steak-knife commercials, there’s more. Food columnist Susan Jenkins’s delightful reminiscence of the Italian Riviera includes her recipe for a sumptuous Tuscan bean soup (perfect for cold nights from Bemidji to Burlingame). Historian Jim Clifford wraps up last month’s tale of the USS Thompson, a sunken navy ship off the Port of Redwood City. And John Shroyer’s “Snapshots in Time” captures dramatic boxing bouts in, of all places, Colma. Order now and get next month’s issue of Climate for free.

CLIMATE MAGAZINE

Publisher

S.F. Bay Media Group

Editor

Scott Dailey scott@climaterwc.com

Creative Director

Jim Kirkland jim@climaterwc.com

Contributing Writers

Janet McGovern

Jill Singleton

Kevin Kaatz

Jim Clifford

Susan Jenkins

Jim Kirkland

Photography

Jim Kirkland

Advertising Director

Scott Dailey scott@climaterwc.com

Editorial Board

Scott Dailey

Jim Kirkland

Adam Alberti

Advisory Board

Dee Eva

Jason Galisatus

Connie Guerrero

Matt Larsen

Dennis Logie

Clem Molony

Barb Valley

Death to Taxes?

Not So Many Takers Here.

San Mateo County residents vote with their wallets for schools and government services.

By Janet McGovern

Closing out a year marked by high inflation and economic uncertainty, San Mateo County voters went to the polls in November and passed 13 out of 14 revenue measures on the ballot. Among them were four school district bonds that will have property owners writing bigger checks at tax time. Voters in Daly City’s Bayshore Elementary School District added eight years to the life of a $96 parcel tax. Brisbane and Pacifica residents upped their sales tax rates by a halfcent. And voters in Brisbane weren’t through; they joined their compatriots in Millbrae and Belmont in approving tax hikes on temporary lodging, including hotels.

Dial back to 2016, when the county board of supervisors asked voters to “extend” a 10-year sales tax increase that had been in effect only four years. The margin for the second go-around—70.37%— was even higher than the first time, when the half-cent tax passed by 65.4%.

Does that mean county voters are pushovers for taxes? Not exactly. When the supervisors last summer considered adding a parcel tax to the November ballot to address drought, wildfire and sea level rise, they pulled back after receiving unfavorable poll numbers.

So when is enough “enough?” It depends on whom you ask—and what it’s for.

“I’m clueless as to why they are voting for these things,” says Mark W.A. Hinkle, 71, president of the Silicon Valley Taxpayers Association and a longtime Libertarian Party member. He is especially down on school bonds, given current test scores and declining enrollment in certain districts. “They want good-quality education but they’re not getting it … I think a lot of them do vote for these things thinking they will get better.”

Others see value. As co-chair for the Redwood City School District’s successful bond campaign, financial adviser Jessica Meunier rang lots of doorbells and was gratified by its passage in November. “Education is a big passion for me,” the mother of two young girls explains. “… I want to invest in our schools, our education, our teachers. So whether I do it by donating to the schools or by taxes, I’m probably going to do it.”

The Local Share

At least conceptually, many people say taxes are too high. For Californians, the grass can look pretty green in nearby states such as Nevada and Washington, where there’s no state income tax. Not as noticeably, though, local taxes and fees—from school bonds to sales taxes—nibble at the family budget, too. The upshot: the Golden State came in No. 8 in the Tax Foundation’s most recent national State-Local Tax Burdens Rankings.

That was in 2019, when California’s effective tax rate was 11.5%. It was actually higher—13.3%—in 1977. That was the year before voters passed Proposition 13, which dramatically lowered property taxes and enshrined rates in the state constitution. Follow-up measures have modified or clarified Prop. 13, which initially required a two-thirds vote to increase local special taxes. In 2000, voters passed Proposition 39, which lowered the threshold to 55% for school bonds. School districts can use bond funds to finance buildings or other capital

projects, and property owners’ obligation to repay the borrowed funds shows up on their tax bills until the bonds are paid off. Bond money can’t be used for salaries or other operating expenses.

Not surprisingly, Prop. 39 made it much easier for school bonds to cross the finish line. Since 2001, more than 80% of school measures that qualify for 55% have passed, according to consultant Michael Coleman, who has spent decades tracking and reporting on taxes in California. Statewide, 209 out of 303 tax and bond measures passed last November; 100 of those were for school bonds and 71 were approved. (The tallies can be found on Coleman’s website, CaliforniaCityFinance.com.)

Adding to the momentum, schools and local governments are expected to provide services that weren’t even on the radar screen decades ago; for government, addressing homelessness, human trafficking, sea level rise, and diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives to name a few. Schools have had added costs for the Covid pandemic and safety in the last couple of years.

The money for all that has to come from somewhere, be it taxes on property, hotel stays or corporate payrolls. But people these days seem more sanguine than in the past about ponying up. Much of the willingness seems to follow traditional political lines; San Mateo County—where Republican registration sits at an anemic 14%—has become one of the bluest counties in a reliably blue state whose voters often favor spending.

“I think we’re fortunate to live in an area where the local residents are willing to invest in the local government and the work that we do,” says county Board of

So when is enough “enough?” It depends on whom you ask— and what it’s for�

Supervisors President Dave Pine. “And I think it makes a big difference in the quality of life in our community. But we couldn’t deliver many of the services that we all value if it weren’t for taxes.”

Odds of Passage

Some are easier to pass than others.

Coleman notes that if taxes are extended or revised without an increase—as in San Mateo County when voters added 20 years to 2012’s Measure A—most pass. Hotel and business license taxes succeed more often than utility taxes, which are among the hardest to enact.

Nonetheless, Coleman says there was “some dampening” in the November election, probably because of concerns about the economy. California’s overall passage rate of 69% was noticeably lower than in the last few election cycles (topping at 83% in 2016.).

More to the point, tax hikes aren’t even being placed on the ballot in some of the redder and more rural parts of the state. The lion’s share of the tax measures, Coleman says, are in the coastal and urban areas, such as the Bay Area and Los Angeles.

But taxes do add up. To the state’s 7.25% sales tax baseline, many jurisdictions tack on their own increments. Total sales tax rates exceed 10% in parts of Los Angeles County, and most San Mateo County cities are in the “high 9s.” Caltrain, which had been out in the cold among public transit agencies without a tax source of its own, finally got a one-eighth-cent levy in a three-county vote in November 2020. (The single losing tax measure in last November’s election was a parcel tax in South San Francisco for childcare.)

Redwood City’s Measure RR in 2018— called the “Redwood City Essential Services Protection Measure”—added a half cent (okayed by a 67.6% margin). Late last year, the city issued a request for proposals

to analyze potential new revenue sources—among them parcel taxes and the creation of a new tax or special district—and update current sources of funds. If voter approval is required, the goal would be to get the recommendations to the city council by this November, with the June 2024 election in mind.

Hotel taxes offer a popular way to raise local revenues, because most often they’re paid by out-of-towners. Half Moon Bay’s hotel tax (called “TOT” for transient occupancy tax) reached 15% in July. In most of the county, it’s 12% to 14%.

On the other hand, bonds and parcel taxes literally hit property owners where they live.

This year, the owner of a house in the South San Francisco Unified School District valued at $1.5 million will see a property tax increase of about $900, as a result of $436 million in just-approved bonds. The additional cost for a homeowner in the Sequoia Union High School District with that value will be around $210 to begin repaying $591.5 million in new bonds. It’s $360 more for property owners in the Redwood City School District, where $298 million in bonds were also approved in November. For those who happen to live in both Redwood City districts, that’s an extra $570 per year.

Missing in Action

To oversimplify, Republicans typically are associated with a desire for lower taxes. With today’s lopsided Democratic margin in San Mateo County, it’s not as easy as it once was for voters to hear the opposite side of a tax proposal. There no longer seems even to be a local tax-fighting association. Years ago, the county to the north was absorbed into Hinkle’s Silicon Valley group. When Hinkle, a Morgan Hill resident, can’t locate someone to write the “anti” argument for a voter pamphlet somewhere, he often does it himself, at the risk of being called a carpetbagger.

Coleman, the tax expert, laments the loss of local newspapers. He says in many communities, the only thing voters can go on is the ballot pamphlet they get in the mail. “And,” he adds, “you just hope that they’re reading that. But I think many people aren’t.”

In the last two years, civil grand juries in Alameda and Santa Clara counties have also criticized the way ballot questions are phrased. Limited to 75 words, the question is supposed to be neutral and transparent. But many are considered to suffer from “proponents’ bias” because well-meaning people with a vested interest in the outcome may use “feel-good,” misleading or

Mark Hinkle

“I’m clueless as to why they are voting for these things� They want goodquality education but they’re not getting it … I think a lot of them do vote for these things thinking they will get better�”

irrelevant language rather than just presenting the facts. “It’s an offense against the system that you’re printing stuff to be on the ballot that’s basically a list of arguments,” says Richard Michael, a Southern California resident who maintains a website (bigbadbonds.com) about school bonds statewide.

He continues, “Everybody involved in this knows that the ballot label is the most important thing you can do because it’s the only thing that a voter will actually see when they vote. They might not hear any news. They might not see any mailers or hear any radio ads or whatever else they do, they might not even read the voter guide, which is mailed separately.”

Some critics say the odds are stacked in favor of school districts and government agencies, which can employ tools at taxpayer expense that leave the opposition outgunned—using pollsters to see what voters will support and how to frame it, sending out “informational” mailers, and then working with campaign consultants to craft arguments that hype the benefits and cloud the costs and/or duration of the tax.

Drawing the Line

“There’s really a bright line,” Supervisor Pine responds. “Taxpayers’ money can’t be used to advocate for a tax measure. But their money can be used to explore the viability of a measure and I think those are different.” More often than not, he says, polling keeps tax measures from going on the ballot. “You have to have a high degree of confidence that the electorate will support the tax. It’s expensive to go to the ballot and fail. It also positions you poorly

having forced you maybe to go out a second time.”

Chris Robell, a retired corporate chief financial officer, wrote the ballot arguments against both of the Redwood City school measures on the November ballot, which he opposed because of the longterm cost of bond financing and the way he believed the measures were being presented. He posted about them on social media and produced a video explaining his opposition.

“Bonds are such an expensive way of doing financing,” Robell says, noting they’re similar to a home mortgage, which costs many times the sales price by the time the loan is paid off. Combined, he argues, the two districts’ estimate for the cost of $890 million in bonds is actually $1.7 billion, including principal and interest. He adds

that soaring interest rates could create even more expense.

Robell figured there had to be a good reason to go into debt. But when he asked why the school districts needed the money, he started hearing alarm bells.

“There’s a long list of projects and the projects are very general,” he says. “Then they say they’re going to consult with the community and figure out what we’re going to spend it on. They also make sure in their marketing materials to highlight things that have the highest voter excitement”—items such as deteriorating roofs and lack of air conditioning. He says he’d rather see additional funds go to hiring and retaining teachers than into infrastructure.

The “yes” citizen campaign committees for the two school measures raised sizable war chests for mailers and other campaign staples. “I’m just one person,” Robell says. “I don’t have $250,000 (for a campaign). It’s not a fair fight.”

Today’s vs. Tomorrow’s Dollars

Richard Ginn, who is president of the Sequoia district board and also a CFO, says there is a time value in being able to invest bond money today that is repaid in future dollars. (A basic financial principle holds that money in hand today is worth more than the prospect of money tomorrow, because today’s money can be used now and because the future contains uncertainty such as inflation, which could reduce the money’s value and effectively make it cheaper to pay back loans.)

With that in mind, Ginn says “we have aging buildings” that need upgrades every 10 to 15 years in a continuing process. “If

"They also make sure in their marketing materials to highlight things that have the highest voter excitement”—items such as deteriorating roofs and lack of air conditioning� [Robell] says he’d rather see additional funds go to hiring and retaining teachers than into infrastructure�

Chris Robell

the government is going to provide services and public facilities, you have to pay for it.”

Ginn says he’s among many people who moved to San Mateo County because of the quality of its schools, and that also translates into higher property values. He believes that in approving Measure W last November, voters understood that the funds would be used only for capital projects. The board will have to prioritize, Ginn says, but having air conditioning for classrooms will be high on the list. “We have had several days [last year] that were not conducive to learning.”

Meunier, the co-chair of the “Yes on S” committee supporting the Redwood City School District bond measure, was thrilled when it passed since it will help pay for costly, multi-year projects she believes are definitely needed. Voters in 2015 approved $193 million in bonds under another initiative called Measure T, but Measure S supporters said it covered only about a third of the need. Many of the district’s schools, Meunier says, are still “way behind.”

She adds, “If you don’t have the right technology, building safety and back-end stuff, you will not have the best teachers, happiness for the kids, teaching for the kids and the right environment.”

Furthermore, Meunier says, new and unexpected costs add to the schools’ financial burden. She recognizes that people who don’t have schoolkids or are retired may not share her passion about education. “The word ‘tax’ has a negative connotation,” says Meunier, “but what it’s actually funding is something I know that I want to do.”

Reporting to the Taxpayer

With the lowered threshold for passage, school districts with Prop. 39 bonds are required to have audits and independent citizen oversight committees looking at how the money is spent. There are now more than 500 of them in the state, accord-

ing to the California Association of Bond Oversight Committees, which was formed in 2019. The organization says the reality sometimes falls short of the promise; some committees never meet or members haven’t been appointed. The group has proposed legislation to give the watchdogs more bite.

Annual reports by the Redwood City School District’s Measure T Oversight Committee are available online and detail where the money has helped modernize and upgrade schools throughout the district. The wide-ranging list includes new kitchen equipment, lunch tables and umbrellas, as well as fire alarm system upgrades, security cameras, safety locks and fencing, new fire escape ramps and emergency “wayfinding” signs.

The Sequoia high school district’s 2015 bond ($265 million for Measure A) financed a prodigious list of big projects, among them new classroom wings at Carlmont, Woodside and Menlo-Atherton high schools, renovation of the music building and the athletic practice field at Sequoia, a new gym at East Palo Academy and the new TIDE Academy.

San Mateo County maintains comprehensive online information on the 2016 Measure K sales tax, including annual reports, lists of specific expenditures and accountability criteria. One of the chief reasons county supervisors placed Measure K on the ballot was because of calls at the time for more affordable housing. Polling indicated that a bond for housing wouldn’t pass but a 10- or 20-year extension of Measure A would win handily. It did—and the former Measure A became Measure K. In December, the county announced the award of $54 million in housing grants that included more than $23 million in Measure K funds.

As its proponents promised, there is a citizen oversight committee. It meets twice a year. Its main role is to review the annual audit from the county controller's office, but the committee has no power to recommend to the board of supervisors how funds should be spent.

Proceeds from the Redwood City School District’s 2015 Measure T bonds have been used to upgrade schools with new buildings, modernized restrooms, and updated storm drainage systems, walkways and parking lots, among other projects. Henry Ford School has received new fencing, landscaping and other improvements.

Funding A New Agency

Meanwhile, the San Mateo County Flood & Sea Level Rise Resiliency District has a tax problem. Called OneShoreline for short, the agency was formed three years ago. The county and its cities were expected to contribute to it until it secured an independent source of funds. Some of the money from Measure K was supposed to go toward addressing sea level rise, and Pine says the county has indeed drawn on that source for its own OneShoreline share.

The board of supervisors last spring was looking at putting a parcel tax on the ballot, which had “kind of morphed into a broader climate resiliency tax,” Pine explains. Residents received glossy mailers about a “New Normal” of drought, wildfire and sea level rise, and were asked to comment online. But polling showed a parcel tax wouldn’t pass---illustrating Pine’s contention that polling often keeps tax measures off the ballot.

“Polling reflected what was going on in the world at the time,” he says, “which was inflation and gas prices were at a record high. People were still feeling uneasy about Covid. And it was clear that obtaining two-thirds approval [the margin a parcel tax needs] would be extremely hard to achieve. So we passed on it.”

Where does that leave OneShoreline?

Pine says it’s not at imminent risk of going out of business. But long-term, he adds, “the need still exists to figure out how to fund OneShoreline.”

Virginia Chang Kiraly, who serves on the boards of both the Menlo Park Fire Protection District and the San Mateo County Harbor District, heard a similar message when she canvassed door-to-door last spring in her unsuccessful campaign for the board of supervisors. “I didn’t once

talk to anyone who was for any taxes and I didn’t even bring up the tax measure,” she says. “And they don’t know how their tax dollars are being spent. I heard this over and over again.”

Chang Kiraly says she’s not anti-tax but that it was the wrong time to be going to the voters for more money when families were struggling to cover basic needs. She also contends OneShoreline should first try to partner with other taxpayer-supported

special districts with overlapping missions to “figure out how you can expand on what they’re doing.”

Every harbor district infrastructure project, she adds, takes sea level rise into account. “How do you expand that and not have to reinvent the wheel? So it’s really about how do you become more resourceful with what you’ve got right now instead of working in silos?”

Keeping Up

Hinkle remains “baffled” why so many tax measures get approved by the people who will be paying the tab, though some of that may be because of residents who have been priced out of California and aren’t around to vote “no.”

It bears noting that the Peninsula and Silicon Valley have some of the wealthiest ZIP codes in the country. For two-earner families or tech employees receiving stock options, thousands of dollars in taxes for quality public services and good schools may seem money well-spent.

Hinkle owns a swimming pool enclosure business, and his wife is an architect. They built their home in Morgan Hill 29 years ago. The property tax started at $4,000. Despite Prop. 13, their bill today runs more than $10,000. “Last time I looked, I had something like 19 different line items,” Hinkle says, add-ons for special districts, schools and other things. “Every year the property tax goes up $400 or $500.”

He’s lived his whole life in California but says if he and his wife ever quit working, “we can’t afford to stay here because of the property taxes and the cost of living. … You’ve heard the phrase ‘death by a thousand cuts?’ Well, I’ve had 19 cuts, and I’m not sure I can afford more.”

Virginia Chang Kiraly in front of remodeled Fire Station No. 4 in Menlo Park.

“I didn’t once talk to anyone who was for any taxes and I didn’t even bring up the tax measure� And they don’t know how their tax dollars are being spent� I heard this over and over again�”

The movie character Elsa of “Frozen” fame visited the Redwood City Library during its "Winter Wonderland" celebration on January 7, performing magic for a crowd of dazzled children. The party also offered crafts, prizes and photos with Elsa.

Wintertime is Here Carrie Nation, Move Over

The Raging Grannies are not your usual activists. The supposed “elderly” women in the international association love to hit the streets and protest injustice wherever they find it. And they have found plenty.

It must be a tad intimidating when, in their own term, a "gaggle" of women aged 50 to 90 and dressed in stereotypical outfits to illustrate their point come knocking while waving signs and singing songs about topics from war, gun control and climate change to LGBTQ and abortion rights.

The organization began in 1987 in Victoria, British Columbia,

and has been active in the Bay Area for two decades. On January 17, local Grannies gathered at the Menlo Park Library, intending to show a documentary about the movement. Technical difficulties intervened but didn’t faze the group’s leaders as they traded stories and recruited new associates.

Bay Area charter member Ruth Robertson remains committed to the cause and scoffs at the idea that advancing age necessarily equals decline. “Being old,” she says, “is a superpower.”

Is This Redwood City’s Ultimate Power Couple?

One was mayor, the other, a skilled mediator. Together, they’ve changed the town for good.

By Jill Singleton

What Colorado coal miner’s daughter launched Redwood City’s Pride and Beautification Committee and City Trees program? Who was key to bringing the San Mateo County History Museum to the city’s iconic 1910 courthouse, kickstarting not just the renovation of this neoclassical beauty, but the revitalization of Redwood City’s downtown?

What local pastor (and former merchant mariner) served 20 years on Redwood City’s Arts Commission, co-founded a countywide mediation service and became an internationally recognized expert on traumatic stress recovery, making more than 40 missions overseas to help survivors of war, earthquakes, tsunamis, terrorism and other disasters?

Bonus question: What Redwood City couple (now both in their 80s) remain competitive athletes, having each won gold medals at the World Senior Games in their respective events: power walking and volleyball?

A few hints: One volunteered with the Cub Scouts, Campfire Girls and her kids’ schools before being asked to serve on the city’s Parks, Recreation & Community Services Commission and then to run for the

city council, to which she was elected three times and served two years as mayor.

The other, after graduating from the California Maritime Academy and serving a year-and-a-half at sea, returned to college at San Francisco State, where he got involved in campus ministry (the highlight—a trip to Nebraska where he heard Martin Luther King Jr. speak). As a newly ordained Methodist minister with master’s degrees in both counseling and divinity (he now holds a doctorate in the

latter), he discovered his calling when he began helping Vietnam veterans recover from post-traumatic stress disorder.

Last chance: Together, this couple in 2006 received “Citizens of the Year” honors from Redwood City’s Sequoia Awards, which recognize exceptional contributions to the community.

Those who have not yet guessed “Georgi LaBerge and Warren Dale” can be forgiven. For these are two people who, for all their impressive accomplishments,

have habitually focused on others and kept their own lives decidedly low-key.

Roots in Similarly Strong Families

As a first-generation American, LaBerge grew up in small-town southern Colorado, with a Czech mother and a Croatian father. “Mom was a strong force in my life,” she recalls. “My father called her ‘the chief.’ She only went through sixth grade. My father never went to school at all. But we had a really happy home. My mother was a good homemaker and a good volunteer in the community, [and] even for the Democratic Party.

“I learned a lot from her. She said, ‘you can be anything you want to be, if you just focus on it and work on it.’ She gave me the gift of believing in myself.”

Of his own blue-collar upbringing in San Francisco and around the bay, Dale says, “I was very fortunate in that I had a mother who was intellectually challenged but knew how to care for others … and a stepfather who loved me and supported my life detours. He was a mechanic … in and out of work … and we moved around a lot: Bay View-Hunters Point, Vallejo, Napa. … We were on welfare for a time, and because of that I got to go to Jones Gulch YMCA Camp in La Honda when I was 10 years old. I was taught how to swim and later I became a member of the swim team in high school. I learned a lot of things including leadership there, and in the Boy Scouts. I always had leadership skills.”

LaBerge arrived in the land of “Climate Best by Government Test” in 1958. Her husband, Bob LaBerge, was a local man with whom she raised four children until their divorce 30 years later.

Dale, also recently divorced and a father of three, came to Redwood City in 1986. He and LaBerge met in a church singles group. A five-year courtship ensued. Then, Dale says, “in 1992, Georgi said to

me, ‘I think I’d like to be married while I am still mayor.’ I responded with, ‘Are you asking me? My answer is yes!’”

On October 3 of that year, they were married.

Mayor LaBerge had just created the city’s (and county’s) first childcare policies, which continue today. For their wedding, the couple asked for no gifts. Instead, would their friends please make donations to Redwood City’s newly formed LaBerge-Dale Child Care Fund?

Beyond Mayor Mitch Postel, president of the San Mateo County Historical Association, knew LaBerge back when she did public relations for the College of San Mateo, where the history museum was housed. Postel says it was LaBerge’s vision to move the museum to the heart of Redwood City. He remembers that as a councilmember LaBerge “led the charge” to get $400,000 in city renovation funds to turn the old courthouse into today’s sparkling downtown centerpiece.

LaBerge’s official enthusiasm also helped Postel raise private gifts for the museum. He says, “It was a real contribution for us to be able to tell our donors that Redwood City was behind us.”

Postel believes the renovation has brought tremendous returns. In an email, he writes, “Today, in my opinion, the courthouse square and the museum together [create] the focal point for the city and for the county. This visibility has been key not only to our success, but it's giving the public greater access to its local history.”

Following three stints on the city council, LaBerge went on to lead the San Mateo County Community Colleges Foundation for seven years, followed by six years as executive director of the Redwood City Library Foundation. Today, she remains an active board member of the historical association and Sustainable San Mateo County, an organization that emphasizes what it calls the “three E’s” of the economy, the environment and social equity.

A Different Kind of Repairman

While LaBerge was working at her job and attending to city business, Dale was called in to rescue several struggling churches around the Bay Area. At the same time, he co-founded the Peninsula Conflict Resolution Center (PCRC), a nonprofit that today has 13 staff and 100 volunteers. It contracts with the county court system as well as several cities to help people resolve fami-

Councilmember LaBerge “led the charge” to get $400,000 in city renovation funds to turn the old courthouse into today’s sparkling downtown centerpiece.

Redwood City Mayor Georgi LaBerge greets officials in sister city Zhuhai, China, during a visit in 1999.

ly problems and all sorts of neighborhood disputes, at little or no cost to those served.

PCRC Executive Director Malissa Netane-Jones counts herself among Dale’s biggest fans. “Warren is an unapologetic mediator,” she says. “He’s a peace-builder. He’s able to help people through really difficult conversations.

“He does not fear conflict,” Netane-Jones continues. “He sees conflict as an opportunity to bring people together to listen deeply to one another and for them to essentially resolve their own conflict. What’s more, he never says no. And I love that Georgi always flanks him. She has his back. She’s always present.”

International Works

As Dale tells it, it was LaBerge’s newspaper reading that tipped him to a group of Muslim psychologists who were traveling to Bosnia to work with refugees.

“I called them,” he says. “None had experience working with trauma. … I’m making $23,000 a year and I said to God, ‘If you want me to go, show me a sign and tell me how.’” The answer came on the radio, through a timely reading of a biblical passage from the book of Isaiah: “Then you will call, and the lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say, ‘Here am I.’” Dale sent out an appeal to family and friends. Five weeks later he was on a plane, making the first of 40 trips to Bosnia and Kosovo.

Those early missions eventually led him to help people recover from 9/11 in New York City, the devastating 2001 San Bruno fire, earthquakes in California and El Salvador, an Indonesian tsunami, postwar Angola and hurricane-battered New Orleans, as well as domestic violence and human trafficking both in the U.S. and abroad. In conjunction with several international aid organizations, he began teaching his skills to others and recently published a disaster recovery guide.

Now pretty much retired, Dale still leads the First Church of Redwood City, a Congregationalist ministry. Most afternoons, he and LaBerge keep a cappuccino date at a local coffee house. Dale rides a bike twice a week with a group called Senior Spokes, plays volleyball at drop-in gyms and goes for walks with others venturing out from the Redwood City Veterans Memorial Senior Center.

Like her husband, LaBerge considers herself an outdoors person. She enjoys gardening, and when she heard about the sport of race-walking in the senior games—a national and international competition for older people—she quickly took it up. Gradually she moved to power walking, an event that “is a bit easier on the body,” she says. And she still helps plant trees through the community’s City Trees initiative.

Centenarian Inspiration

Dale takes delight in Millie Cole, a 102-year-old member of his church. “She’s still in the Optimist Club,” he says. “She leads a chair-ersizing group, and her motto is, ‘Take a walk around the house once an hour and every day do something for someone else.’”

LaBerge echoes Cole’s advice almost verbatim, saying, “I would encourage people to think how satisfying it can be to help someone else.”

Few would doubt that LaBerge and Dale have the “do something for somebody else” part down. As for walking around the house, they go it a little better. LaBerge, who turns 87 this month, texted the outline of her biography for this article from a kayak on a Kauai lagoon. Dale, 83, was interviewed just after a 90-minute volleyball game with players 20 to 50 years his junior.

That sort of energy makes others marvel. “Individually, they are absolutely wonderful,” says Paula Uccelli, longtime Redwood City businesswoman, philanthropist and co-founder of the Sequoia Awards. “But as a power couple, they are awesome. They are the best.”

C

Dale sees conflict as an opportunity to bring people together to listen deeply to one another. And LaBerge always has his back.

In 1994, Dale supported Bosnia's "Peter Pan" project, which helps young people visit war survivors in the hospital.

Freezing on Friday the 13th in Northern Minnesota

Editor’s note: Peninsula attorney Jay Clemens chose Friday, January 13, to fly home after visiting family in Bemidji, Minnesota. It’s a good bet he won’t do it again. But on the leg to Minneapolis, he did get a chance to thaw out a few reflections.

By Jay Clemens

I needed a ride to the Bemidji Regional Airport for my 7 a.m. flight, and no one in my family could take me. Bemidji is too small for Uber and Lyft, so I called the three cab companies listed in the airport’s transportation guide.

The first two numbers had been disconnected. At the third, the dispatcher told me the drivers didn’t work between two and eight in the morning. Most of their late-night customers—the overindulgent bar crowd—wrapped up their carousing by 2 a.m. The company was willing to give me a ride after the drunks had been taken home, but it would cost me an extra $25 over the fare on the meter and I would have to arrive at the airport by 3:30. Nonetheless, the guy assured me the lobby would be open.

When we pulled up to the darkened terminal, I started getting concerned. The cab driver jumped out and approached the first set of sliding doors. They opened, but a second pair stayed shut. The driver encouraged me to wait in the partially sheltered area between the two doors, predicting that in minutes the airport would be bustling.

I believed him because Minnesotans never lie. They may hide information from time to time—the location of a favorite fishing hole, a secret passion for lutefisk or the Green Bay Packers—but they would never lie to harm another human being. So I decided to stand in the cold but covered area between the two doors and wait.

Five minutes dragged by. Then 15 minutes … 30 minutes … and, finally, an hour.

My ears and feet were starting to freeze, and I began to think about ways to save myself. I could walk in the sub-zero temperature to some distant gas station, but the wolves and bears would probably do me in along the way. Or I could throw my suitcase through the second glass door, but no one in Minnesota would ever do that. A Minnesotan would rather become a human popsicle than damage a piece of public property.

I began to think about the best way to stage my death in the space between the doors. Maybe I could cover my body in sidewalk salt from the large plastic bin near the door, and then lie down on a luggage cart with my suitcases on top of me—a raw piece of performance art focusing on the burdens of travel and the futility of man’s struggle to regain traction under life’s constant and uncontrollable setbacks. Or maybe I could just freeze solid with half a Kit-Kat bar sticking out of my mouth. Then the door in front of me opened and the lights came on. I scrambled in and saw the couple that had saved me. It was two TSA agents coming to work. The first was an enormous man with a mustache and a beard, carrying a red plaid coat over his shoulder. The second was an equally large woman, half as tall but twice as wide. She wore a billowing blue jacket with a TSA logo, along with a Minnesota Vikings hat with integrated earmuffs and two giant horns pointing from the sides.

As Paul and Babe approached me, I thanked them for letting me in, although I could have yelled at them for being an hour late to work and almost killing me. But this wasn’t New York.

Now, having landed in Minneapolis, patiently waiting for those with connections to exit the plane (as all good Minnesotans do), I look forward to my flight to San Francisco. It’s already delayed three hours by the latest bomb cyclone. Just another Friday the 13th in the Great White North.

No Greater Love

By Kevin Kaatz

The year was 1990, and the man standing before the front desk at the Redwood City Library didn’t want to give his name. He handed the librarian, Jeanne Thivierge, a cardboard box that he said contained more than 2,000 letters and financial documents. He told her the management of Wells Fargo Bank had asked him to destroy them, but he thought they might have historical value. He was right.

Photos courtesy of the Morrish Collection, Redwood City Library.

At first glance, the paper records looked nothing more than ordinary—receipts, tax bills, powers of attorney. But then there were the letters. As Thivierge read them, a rich history began to unfold about a remarkable man who consistently went out of his way to help his neighbors, American citizens of

Japanese descent who had been removed from their homes and businesses in Redwood City and sent to prison camps early in World War II.

FDR’s Exclusion Order

On February 19, 1942, just a little more than two months after Imperial Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbor, President Franklin

D.

Through broadly worded, the edict was employed to send West Coast residents considered Japanese—including U.S. citizens—far inland for presumed security reasons.

They were given just a few days to sell, rent or simply abandon their property, including houses, shops and small farms,

Roosevelt issued Executive Order 9066.

During World War II, local banker J� Elmer Morrish watched over the affairs of Japanese-Americans sent to far-off detention camps by the U�S� government�

before reporting to “assembly centers” at locations such as the Tanforan racetrack in San Bruno. From there, they were shipped on trains to 10 detention camps at remote points in California and Utah as well as Arizona, Wyoming and Arkansas. The lucky ones came home starting in 1945. Others never came home at all.

For many in Redwood City, a man named J. Elmer Morrish was their banker. A vice president of First National Bank (later Wells Fargo) at the corner of Broadway and Main Street, Morrish was widely known among local Japanese-Americans. Before being shipped out, numerous clients assigned him control over their accounts so he could pay invoices—especially tax bills—that would enable them to keep their homes and businesses.

Over the course of three years, from 1942 to 1945, Morrish did that and much more. The correspondence in the box revealed relationships that extended far beyond routine transactions. Often, the letters demonstrate the trust Morrish had earned and the affection he shared with his neighbors.

Many Japanese-Americans in the area grew flowers, especially chrysanthemums. Minutes from a special meeting of the Peninsula Flower Growers (headed by a man named William Haruo Enomoto) gave Morrish full power to take care of the members’ businesses, except for conveying or mortgaging them. The document was signed on March 24, 1942, a monthand-a-half before Redwood City’s Japanese-American residents were forced out. Even though Roosevelt’s decree referred only to “any and all persons” who could be removed from “military areas,” clearly the flower farmers knew what it meant.

Other letters were more personal. On June 26, 1942, a Miss Adachi sent this note to Morrish: “We at Tanforan are fine and looking forward for brighter days. Deep

in our hearts there is that deep appreciation for everything that you have been doing for us, but very hard to find the right words to express this thought.”

Two years later, on June 23, 1944, Morrish wrote to Miss Adachi in what appears to have been a fond and continuing exchange. “I have heard somewhere that you have married,” he said, “but I hardly believe that is true because you haven’t written to me to ask if it was all right.” Composed decades before emojis, the line can only be assumed to be playful. Morrish wrote again in October, saying he hoped all was well and that he had not heard from Miss Adachi in months.

Still more communications were serious, even urgent. Morrish often kept track of people’s property, monitoring empty homes and renting them when he could. Occasionally, there was vandalism. Regarding one such occurrence in November 1943, a frantic Mr. Nakano sent Morrish a list of personal possessions in his house along

with a drawing of where things were, and asked him to check his belongings.

Mr. Nakano wrote, “Wife was quite alarmed over the incident because of some of the things she left at home that we should have taken greater precautions of security for them but at the time of evacuation our activities were so jumbled and curtailed by the thoughts of impending evacuation that we didn’t do many things that we should have done to protect our property.”

Decades-Old Memories

In oral histories recorded in 2003, members of Redwood City’s Japanese-American community remembered Morrish, who died in 1957, with respect and thanks.

“He was a prince of a gentleman,” said second-generation nurseryman Harry Higaki, who eventually resided in Hillsborough and lived to age 101. “He personified the meaning of the world ‘gentleman’ because he offered all of this to us. …Those

Morrish's correspondence reveals relationships that extended far beyond routine transactions. Often, the letters demonstrate the trust he had earned and the affection he shared with his neighbors.

were the times of tension and, I guess, you would say, discrimination. But yet he rose above that. He treated us the same, before and after. I just couldn’t believe how he was so kind and generous in helping our family. … I’ll never forget him. [I am] eternally grateful to him.”

A woman named Ruby Inouye told an interviewer, “Mr. Morrish took care of everything ... He did a lot; [it was] personal—I mean, it was outside of the banking thing … He took it on his own to see what was going on at the nurseries …”

Added another woman named Teru Tamura Mitsuyoshi, “My dad always mentioned Mr. Morrish and had nothing but good things to say about him and how helpful he was. … He was always so good to [people].”

Appalling Conditions

The same could not be said of the U.S. government when the internees arrived at the camps. There was window dressing—a band played as they climbed down from the train in Topaz, Utah—but the ensuing reality was anything but melodious. At Topaz, what was to pass for housing hadn’t yet been completed. When it was, it consisted of tarpaper shacks built hastily with freshly cut wood that shrank over time, causing structural problems. Many accommodations lacked roofs and working bathrooms. People became ill with colds, the flu and more life-threatening illnesses, and the facilities weren’t set up to provide adequate medical care.

Then there were the not-so-subtle ironies. While living in converted racehorse stalls at the Tanforan assembly center, the detainees were encouraged to buy U.S. war bonds. The advertising mentioned that the funds would not only help the country fight the war but also keep the assembly centers going. Meanwhile, tax bills reminded people that they were paying government of-

ficials to retain homes and businesses from which they had been evicted.

Coming Home

Finally, in early January 1945, the government started allowing its citizen-prisoners to return. Morrish wrote that housekeeping jobs around Redwood City were plentiful but housing itself was scarce. He suggested that people wait “a few months.” Even those who owned property found difficulty removing tenants and squatters. Over the next few months, however, residents began trickling back. The correspondence with Morrish stops by mid1945, around the time the U.S. dropped atomic bombs on the Japanese cities of

Hiroshima and Nagasaki in early August. Japan officially surrendered on September 2, 1945.

From all that seems to be known, Morrish may have done his work quietly. It was 1956 before Mayor Bill Royer declared him Redwood City’s Citizen of the Year. Even then, the honor came for Morrish’s leadership of the chamber of commerce, the Kiwanis Club, the community chest, the YMCA and a regional bankers’ association. No official mention has been found of his help to the city’s Japanese-American community.

But people remembered. In 1957, local Japanese-Americans pooled their money and bought Morrish an around-the-world ticket for a long tour that included Japan, where their family members met him and showed him the sights. Not surprisingly, the nonstop letter-writer mailed back numerous accounts of the trip.

The extended sojourn represented more than just a warm gesture. In a way, it was a culmination. Less than two months after he returned, Morrish died on October 31, 1957. He was 71 years old. His memory remains alive in the Morrish Collection at the Redwood City Library’s Karl A. Vollmayer Local History Room. In 2003, Jeanne Thivierge—the librarian who had accepted the mysterious box more than a decade before—and Gene Suarez, another library employee, organized a memorial and the oral histories of local families.

It’s often said there is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for a friend. True, J. Elmer Morrish didn’t make the ultimate sacrifice. But for three years in a tumultuous time, softly, deftly, unassumingly, he simply did what needed to be done.

J. Elmer Morrish

“Mr. Morrish took care of everything ... He did a lot; [it was] personal—I mean, it was outside of the banking thing … He took it on his own to see what was going on at the nurseries …”

Tuscan Bean Soup from the Coast of Italy

TUSCAN BEAN SOUP

3 tablespoons olive oil

1 tablespoon butter

2 tablespoons Parmesan cheese, grated

1 yellow onion, diced

1 stalk celery, diced

1 carrot, peeled and diced

3 cloves garlic, minced

2 15-oz cans cannellini beans, rinsed and drained

4 cups chicken broth

This month’s column takes us back to Italy, specifically the Italian Riviera. The province of Liguria, on the country’s northwestern coast, is the stuff of postcards and novels—a crescent-shaped slice of heaven that stretches from France to Tuscany (the home of our dish).

Steep green hills plunge dramatically into the deep blue sea, pastel houses perch on cliffsides and fuchsia bougainvillea vines cascade off balconies. The streets flank secret, overgrown gardens, and ornate iron gates conceal mansions from a bygone era of grandeur.

I was lucky to spend three days soaking up the charm of La Spezia, a spectacular port situated around halfway between Genoa (in Liguria) and Pisa (in Tuscany). Someone wise had recommended that I book a table at Ristorante Petronilla, which allowed me to join the crowd of loyal locals eating succulent seafood and fresh pasta cooked to order.

My third glass of wine made me think I was fluent in Italian. The servers, as gracious and patient as they were friendly and knowledgeable, never let me know otherwise.

It was at Ristorante Petronilla that I first tasted this wonderful Tuscan bean soup. The chef even provided the recipe for me to tuck into my suitcase. Now, years later, it still recalls one of my favorite tiny restaurants in one of my favorite places in the world.

1/2 teaspoon fresh rosemary

1/2 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves

1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1/3 cup creme fraiche

1/2 lemon, juiced

1.5 cups ciabatta bread cubes

A handful of chopped Italian parsley

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

1. Heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil over medium heat. Add butter, allow to melt. Add onion, celery and carrot. Cook and stir until onion begins to turn translucent and golden, about 7 minutes. Stir in garlic; cook for 1 more minute. Add beans and broth. Season with salt, pepper, rosemary, thyme and cayenne pepper. Bring to a simmer, then reduce heat to low and let the mixture continue to simmer for about 30 minutes.

2. Place bread cubes in a sauté pan. Drizzle with the remaining tablespoon of olive oil and add a pinch of salt and pepper. Toast cubes, tossing them occasionally, over medium heat until they’re golden brown and crunchy, about 10 minutes. Sprinkle grated cheese over bread cubes and continue to toast them, about 2 minutes more.

3. Puree soup with an immersion blender until very smooth. Whisk in creme fraiche, then stir in lemon juice. Serve topped with bread cubes and chopped Italian parsley.

by Jim Clifford

The Last of the Four-Pipers?

A rusting hulk on the mudflats off Redwood City is the tombstone for an unheralded class of ships that sailed in harm’s way during World War II. It’s true that the ship itself, the destroyer USS Thompson, didn’t see combat. Nevertheless, it had brushes with history, among them when it escaped from one of the worst peacetime disasters in navy annals.

The destroyer that lies near the midbay boundary with Alameda County served in the war as the target for dud bombs dropped from airplanes during practice runs. While the Thompson served as a floating punching bag, other ships of its class, obsolete for years, were fighting the Axis powers in both the Pacific and the Atlantic.

One, the USS Ward, sank a Japanese submarine at Pearl Harbor moments before the naval base was bombed early in the morning of December 7, 1941. The Ward was sunk in 1944—on December 7, 1944, to be exact. Coincidence? Here’s a better one: The Ward was so badly damaged by the Japanese that it was abandoned and later sunk by an American ship commanded by the same captain who had been in charge of the Ward at Pearl Harbor.

Today, the wreckage of the Thompson, a 314-foot Clemson-class destroyer built in 1918, can be visited by intrepid kayakers who paddle the six miles from Redwood City.

Local resident Jerry Pierce is one of them.

“It is first visible as we leave the Port of Redwood City, and a small bump on the horizon toward Fremont is our guide to the wreck,” Pierce told the Journal of Local History in 2018. He added, “If weather is

The sunken USS Thompson off Redwood City was called a “four-piper” for its four smokestacks. Another USS Thompson also served in World War II; it had two stacks.

nice and the tides are good, it takes a little over an hour” to reach the vessel.

The Thompson was one of scores of “four-piper” destroyers, a name that stemmed from the number of smokestacks that dominated their silhouettes. Even before Pearl Harbor, the ships played a key role in World War II. In 1940, the U.S. provided 50 of the “mothballed” aging vessels to Britain, which was already battling Nazi Germany.

The Thompson’s main claim to fame came when it was part of a flotilla of 14 destroyers sailing from San Francisco to San Diego on September 8, 1923. The lead vessel made a wrong turn and smashed into jagged rocks near Point Conception in Santa Barbara County. Seven ships were lost and 23 sailors killed. The Thompson was last in line, and its skipper avoided the fatal maneuver.

Today, however, little is left. According to a 1976 story in the Redwood City Tribune, the ship was “attacked relentlessly by Army Air Corps P-38s, P-51s [and] Navy Corsairs” during bombing practice.

Peter Evans, an emeritus UC Berkeley professor, penned an extensive article on the Thompson for the May 1997 issue of the sailing magazine Latitude 38. He said the Navy decommissioned the ship and then

repurchased it in February 1944 for one dollar.

The Thompson, Evans wrote, was used for target practice “for the rest of the war and probably sometime thereafter.”

Evans said a local man, who did not want to be named, recalled how he conducted informal salvage operations on the Thompson when he was a student at Sequoia High School in the early 1950s. He said he sold as much as $300 (a lot of money then) in materials in a day to a scrap dealer. The man said he and his friends also held parties on the Thompson.

“They still had the canvas bunks below, and even magazines left behind by the last crew,” he said. “We made fires on the deck to roast hot dogs and generally partied it up, sometimes for whole weekends. The old ship was good to me.”

Even before, the Thompson had a reputation as a party boat. Stricken from the Navy list in 1930, it was initially sold for scrap. But awhile later it was still active— as a restaurant and bar during Prohibition.

The Thompson isn’t the only World War II-era destroyer that sits on or near San Francisco Bay. The USS Corry, sold by the Navy in 1930, became stranded on the Napa River during its voyage to the scrapyard. The wreckage is widely known to boaters. Other such vessels also could still be afloat, according to Commander John Alden, warship expert and author of “Flush Decks and Four Pipes.” Noting the ships’ versatility, he wrote in his 1965 book that “perhaps even now one survives as a barge.”

Or at least a venue for a floating bachelorette party.

Bigtime Boxing in Colma

In the early 20th century, boxing was a major spectator sport in America, even though it was illegal in 21 states—and in San Francisco County. Local matches took place in Colma, just over the San Mateo County line.

Many of the best-known fighters of the day squared off at Coffroth’s Mission Street Arena. Among them were Jack Johnson, the first black heavyweight champion; James J. “Gentleman Jim” Corbett, another heavyweight champ; and Robert Fitzsimmons, who held world titles in three weight divisions and knocked out Corbett in Carson City, Nevada, to claim the heavyweight crown in 1897.

On October 16, 1909, a celebrated bout between Jack Johnson, the “Galveston Giant,” and Stanley Ketchel, the “Michigan Assassin,” drew 10,000 spectators to Coffroth’s. Johnson, the heavyweight champion, stood 6 feet tall and weighed in at 209 pounds. He towered over Ketchel, who was 5-feet-9 and 160 pounds. Sportswriters portrayed the fight as a true David-and-Goliath battle.

Johnson won—barely. In the 12th round, Ketchel floored him with a tremendous righthanded blast. Down for an estimated eight or nine seconds, Johnson finally rose, and Ketchel raced in for the knockout. Johnson swung a vicious right cross that sent Ketchel to the mat, and one of the most incredible fights in history was over. (A film of the match is available on YouTube; enter “Jack Johnson vs. Stanley Ketchel.”)

A footnote: One day less than a year later, on October 15, 1910, Ketchel was dead—killed by a man who apparently thought Ketchel had made a lewd remark to the man’s girlfriend.

historical fun, visit

Long before pay-per-view, boxing captivated millions of American sports fans.

Bay Area fight promoter James W. Coffroth owned several local arenas.

For

the San Mateo County History Museum in downtown Redwood City.

3 Axe Throwing!

11 9th Annual West Coast Craft Can Invitational

Beer Friday Craft Beer - Live Music- Food

Every Friday

935 Washington St., San Carlos

For more info go to: devilscanyon.com

FEBRUARY

4 An Evening with Paula Poundstone

17 MOIRA - Live in Redwood City

18 2023 International Championship of Collegiate A Cappella

25 Jose Feliciano

2221 Broadway, Redwood City

For more info go to: foxrwc.com

1 FRED ARMISEN

5 SPOTLIGHT SHORT FILM SHOWCASE

7 BODEANS CHRIS TRAPPER

9 BLIND BOYS OF ALABAMA

14 METE TASIN

17 PRIDE & JOY

First Wednesdays: Burlesque

Second and Fourth Wednesdays: Standup Comedy

Every Thursday: Board Game Night

Every Saturday night: LIVE MUSIC

2650 Broadway, Redwood City

For more info go to: TheHubRWC.com

1 The Club Fox Blues Jam TIA CARROL

4 LYDIA PENSE AND COLD BLOOD W/PAPER THIN

8 NO JAM NOEL HAYES SOUL BLUES BASH

10 HOT FOR TEACHER & STUNG

11 FOREVERLAND

The Electrifying 14-Piece Tribute to Michael Jackson

Pub Trivia NIght

Every Thursday @ 7:30pm

831 Main St., Redwood City

For more info go to: alhambra-irish-house.com

18 THE STONE FOXES GO BY OCEAN

19 TAMIR HENDELMAN & TIERNEY SUTTON

24 SLEEP WHEN YOU’RE DEAD EDM NIGHT FT. DJ DFT AND P__KLANG AND CAIN

25 PINK TALKING FISH ANTHONY ARYA

26 WHITE DENIM CASCADING MOMS

For more info go to: guildtheatre.com

DJ Playing

Every Night @ 9pm - 1am

2420 Broadway., Redwood City

For more info go to: thesandwichspotrwc.com

12 THE NORDIC PSYCHEDELIC SOUL INVASION

15 The Club Fox Blues Jam QUIQUE GOMEZ – ON TOUR

17 JEROME MADIGAN & THE WHATEVERS w/FLIGHT OF ULYSSES

18 AJA VU TRIBUTE TO STEELY DAN & CHICAGO

22 The Club Fox Blues Jam RANDY MCDONALD’S ROAD DOG REVUE

2209 Broadway, Redwood City

For more info go to: clubfoxrwc.com

San Mateo County History Museum

FREE First Fridays

For more info go to: historysmc.org/free-first-Fridays