Berkeley Mayor Wallace Johnson, the city's Waving Man and the Alameda Navy base's last commander are just a few among many who should be recognized.
Have you ever wondered why the elevated BART tracks stop at the Berkeley city limits and stay underground until they reach the other side of the city? The credit goes to Wally Johnson, Berkeley’s last Republican mayor, who served during the 1960s.
Using his own money, Johnson launched a “Bury The Tracks” campaign to hold a special election that would tax Berkeley residents to pay for the undergrounding of all three stations.
Amazingly, 83% of the voters agreed, and Berkeley was saved from the fate that West Oakland suffered when it was cut in half by the Cypress Freeway structure. There’s no statue of Johnson, though, not even a plaque, and it’s a disgrace.
So who else around the East Bay deserves a statue? I suggest Joseph Charles, the celebrated Berkeley Waving Man who stood in front of his house on the corner of Oregon Street and Martin Luther King Jr. Way every morning for 30 years, rain or shine, waving to the passing cars and calling out, “Keep Smiling!” and “Have a nice day!”
There’s already a sign on the Grove Park tennis courts across the street from his home reading, “Joseph W. Charles Tennis Courts,” but wouldn’t it be cool to have an actual statue of him waving? And I know what the inscriptions on the base should say: “Keep Smiling!” and “Have a nice day!”
Over in Alameda, they should build a statue to Capt. Jim Dodge, the last commander of U.S. Naval Air Station Alameda (now called Alameda Point). He’s the man who saved the USS Hornet World War II aircraft carrier from being scrapped.
The Hornet was already in the scrapyard at San Francisco’s Hunter’s Point, but it was towed to Alameda one last time in 1992 for the 50th anniversary celebration of the Battle of Midway. Then it was supposed to go back to Hunter’s Point and be turned into razor blades, but Dodge refused to return it.
The Navy brass were none too pleased, but Dodge had the ship and was backed by a public campaign of Alameda residents and former sailors and aviators who had served aboard the Hornet. Their motto was “Don’t give up the ship!” Even the scrapyard’s owner was on board because her father was a World War II veteran.
Finally, the Navy gave up, and now the Hornet is permanently docked at Alameda Point as a maritime and space museum. She was also the ship that fished the Apollo 11 astronauts out of the ocean after their historic first flight to the moon. Thanks, captain.
What about Oakland? I nominate George Vukasin, the city’s former longtime councilmember, vice mayor and chairman of the Port of Oakland Authority, which he turned into the economic powerhouse it is today.
Vukasin was also chairman of the Oakland Coliseum Commission during its glory years, when it had three teams and all of them were happy to be in town. Conservative columnist (and big baseball fan) George Will called it “the best of the ‘70s cookie-cutter stadiums,” but now it’s a dump you’d be afraid to take your kids to.
And El Cerrito? Sundar Shadi, of course, the Sikh immigrant who gifted his neighbors every holiday season with an elaborate display of the town of Bethlehem in his front yard, featuring scores of papier-mache shepherds, wise men, angels, camels, goats, sheep, doves etc., a tradition El Cerrito citizens have continued every Christmastime for more than 20 years since his death.
Albany? In 1908 the residents were plagued by the constant dumping of garbage from Berkeley, and nobody could make it stop. Finally, though, a small group of women with two shotguns and a 22-caliber rifle confronted the drivers of the horse-drawn garbage wagons and told them to go home, which they hastily did, wisely never to return. Nobody remembers those women’s names, but they deserve a statue too.
Last but not least are three women to whom all of us are indebted: Sylvia McLaughlin, Kay Kerr and Esther Gulick, who literally saved San Francisco Bay.
In 1959 they were appalled to read in the Oakland Tribune that the Army Corps of Engineers planned to carve off the top of San Bruno Mountain and dump it into the bay, which would have turned it into a mere shipping channel. So they founded the Save The Bay Association and started organizing. Critics ridiculed them as “do-gooders,” “posey-pickers” and “little old ladies in tennis shoes,” but they persevered and the Bay was saved.
We should honor all these heroes. A society that forgets its past has no hope for its future.
Martin Snapp can be reached at catman442@comcast.net.
