Just northeast of the California Pacific Medical Center on Castro Street in San Francisco is Duboce Park. Years ago in 1996 while my friend Jennifer was undergoing a routine physical examination at the medical center, I walked over to the park to read a book.
As I enter the park from Duboce Avenue I began looking for a place to plop down. Immediately, my eyes were drawn to a bench on the high west end of the park that offered an exceptional view of the commons and the surrounding neighborhood. Unfortunately, the bench was occupied by a young woman and her child.
I reluctantly chose another spot nearby, and though the view was adequate, I continued to periodically look up from my reading to see if the bench I preferred was still in use. Eventually, the young woman and her child stood up to leave.
Quickly I marked the page I was reading with a piece of paper and headed towards the bench.
As I was sitting down, I noticed on the bench beneath me an astonishing coincidence. I immediately stood up.
There, carved into the bench where I had just sat down was my name – DEE.
