A Nostalgic Visit To Southeast San Diego

It would be great to be able to write that Southeast San Diego wasn't too bad a place to grow up, but that would be a lie.

                                               A rather new neighborhood boundary marker

Southeast San Diego was a horrid place to grow up. The crime, violence, poverty, drugs, etc. were endemic.

     This is the local convenience store 3 blocks from the home I was raised in - it was first a UToteM, then became a Circle K...years later it's this...and it holds the distinction of being the single most robbed convenience store in all of San Diego.

When I was very young and Mom was still dragging us to church every Sunday we had to walk to the corner of Skyline and Meadowbrook, across from Freshie's Corner, in order to catch the 4 bus to St. Rita's on Euclid & Imperial.

                                                                The street I grew up on

The sight of a tiny white woman with a boatload of kids, all dressed for church, walking through the largely black neighborhood we lived in must have been a hoot.

                      Skyline & Meadowbrook, where we caught the 4 bus to church on Sunday

 It was quite the educational experience growing up in that area. That is, if you wanted to learn about the aforementioned crime, violence, poverty, drugs, etc.

                                    St. Rita's R.C. Church - yep, bars on all the windows

If you wanted to learn how to be a productive, responsible member of society, well, you either had to be fortunate to be born to parents who could imbue you with those qualities, or somehow find a way to dodge the influence of gangs and countless other negative pulls - those who think environment is the loser in the nature vs. nurture debate would do well to spend a few years in Southeast San Diego.

Green Cat Liquor across the street from the church - Mom's purse was snatched at the bus stop there

Whoops, I almost forgot - Southeast San Diego is no longer considered the appropriate name for the area, as it had too many negative connotations. The specific neighborhood in the area of Southeast San Diego I grew up in is now referred to as "North Bay Terraces."

                            View of the brown, brown hills of Spring Valley from Skyline

Which is hilarious, as it is not north of much, is quite a few miles from the bay, and there are no terraces - hills, yes, but no terraces.

     To the left is the Meadowbrook Apts, to the right the market that was first Safeway, then Pay-Lo. Now it is the Mi Familia Super Market Panaderia-Cocina-Tortilleria-Carniceria

Driving around the old neighborhood was interesting. The place is still depressing, full of houses with iron bars over all the windows and gang-graffiti covered walls, but from the perspective of a tourist, which is what I essentially was, the desolation was far more interesting than it was when I was a resident.

                             There have always been a few eccentrics in the neighborhood

It's not Detroit by a long shot, but it's still pretty bad. Half of all murders that occur in the city of San Diego happen in and around the area, and at a rate that is 3X the national average per 100,000 residents. 

The donut shop on Jamacha (pronounced "Ham a Shaw" in S.D.) where my sister Kathy worked. She got so used to being robbed she became conversational with the robbers, even at gun point

Driving by my old High School, Morse, I was surprised to see it had been given a facelift. Nice of them to freshen the place up - still had the ten-foot tall chain link fence encircling it though, which always made it feel more like a prison than a school.

That building sits on what had been the student parking lot and blocks the old entrance to the school

On several occasions I thought I saw a person or two that I recognised and I was tempted to walk over and say hello. But I talked myself out of it each and every time. 

Not that there were no, or are not, great people in Southeast S.D. - I made some lifelong friends in my old neighborhood, and even those that are no longer part of my life contributed to some of the happiest moments of my life.

However, I also had to deal with some not-so-good people, and I had to fight...a lot. I hate fighting, but walking away was never an option, no matter how many times a school counselor suggested that it takes more courage to walk away than to fight. You never turned your back. Never.

The old entrance to Morse with the great tiger painted by Klepper's Environmental Graphics class

Being in the neighborhood that played a large role in shaping the man I became it struck me once again how lucky I truly am. I got out of the place mostly intact, which is more than I can say for a lot of the people I grew up with.

 The closest movie theater to our house was the Spring Valley Cinema. Matinees were cheap, and usually double features. Now it's the home of Lemon Grove Stucco.

Thomas Wolfe missed the boat. Going home isn't all that difficult, and in fact can be a handy reminder of why you left and why you continue to stay away. It's a lot like running into an ex that has gained 100 pounds and has forgotten how to brush her teeth.