Author: Sheri Baer

Words by Johanna Harlow

Olivia Allen-Price wants answers. “If I see something, I’m pulling out my phone and looking it up—and then finding myself down a rabbit hole of Wikipedia clicks, 10 clicks deep,” chuckles the San Mateo resident. It’s a mindset that suits her career as a journalist. “Getting to immerse myself in all these different worlds from week to week keeps me on my toes,” she says. “Bay Curious is that, on steroids.”

Bay Curious, a KQED show that Olivia hosts, fields Bay Area-specific questions from listeners. Why are there ships buried under the streets of San Francisco? Why do we have so many palm trees? Is there really a volcano in the East Bay Hills? Olivia and her team track down the truth.
The program started as a pet project while Olivia worked as the radio station’s engagement producer. When they asked her to act as the show’s official host, it came as a surprise. “My background has been as a newspaper reporter. I was comfortable with the written word… I had never spoken into a microphone.” Olivia breaks into a smile. “It was kind of my lean-in moment.”

Cover Photo Courtesy of: Chronicle Books / Photo Courtesy of: Adam Groosberg – KQED

Over the years, Olivia’s evolved as a host. “Early on, I was kind of figuring out, ‘What is my personality as a host? Am I funny? Sincere? Snarky? Irreverent?’ Trying on some different adjectives and trying to figure out what felt like the right fit for the show.” Her verdict? “I try to embody curiosity because that is at the heart of the show,” she reflects. “And to me, curiosity is an openness to learning whatever’s going to come your way.”
Recently, Olivia published a book fueled by the podcast’s previous episodes as well as some brand-new stories. “I truly think almost anything can be interesting if the right person is telling you the story,” she says.
Stay tuned for a few answers to questions you’ve probably been wondering about for years.

Are the rumors about the Stanford Dish searching for aliens true?
There’s something about a behemoth satellite dish pointed heavenwards that seems straight from sci-fi. But this 150-foot-wide radio telescope sprouting from the Stanford foothills was built not to listen in on little green men, but to Soviets. Motivated by the Cold War—specifically the Soviet Union’s launching of Sputnik 1, the world’s first artificial space satellite—the Department of Defense commissioned the Dish’s construction. This allowed Stanford University scientists to listen to Soviet signals as they bounced off the moon. Later, the Dish communicated with several NASA space probes and helped map Venus’ atmosphere via signals sent to the Mariner probe. Still operational today, it aids in satellite calibrations and spacecraft command. Olivia says (a little enviously) that her KQED field reporter got invited to step into the Dish’s observation deck to check out the control console. “All the buttons and switches are Sputnik-era, like a 1960s throwback,” she describes. “It’s almost like you’re on a movie set.”

Photo Courtesy of: Mandy Padgett 

Did Monterey Jack Cheese really come from Monterey?
Olivia acknowledges that Monterey, our neighbor to the south, has laid claim to Monterey Jack cheese, crediting it to David Jacks. This Scottish scoundrel was among many hopefuls flocking to California for the Gold Rush. “He didn’t have much luck with gold, but still amassed a small fortune selling weapons,” Olivia says. Later, he acquired most of Monterey County through a series of shady land deals and money lending. “He wasn’t a beloved local figure,” she notes. “He becomes kind of the de facto landlord of a lot of the people who are living in Monterey.” This included a multitude of dairies—one of which was making a mild white cheese. He stuck his name on it. “That’s the predominant story,” Olivia says. “But there’s an alternate version.” Enter Stefano Mori, an Italian immigrant who settled just south of Pacifica, on what’s now known as Mori Point. “A family friend steals that recipe and then starts making it at the dairies down in Monterey,” Olivia says. “So the next time you’re at a deli ordering a sandwich and you get it with Monterey Jack, you can shake your fist—maybe it should actually be Pacifica Jack.”

What was the original purpose of Hangar One at Moffett Field?
The lofty Hangar One was built to house a 785-foot-long dirigible called the USS Macon. It was constructed soon after Santa Clara County residents sold Moffett Field to the U.S. Navy for the price of one dollar back in 1931. “Quite a deal, even in its time,” Olivia says. Used for reconnaissance, the Macon could carry four airplanes, then release them via an arm called the trapeze. “The airplanes would do their scouting mission and then come back and get caught by that arm and brought back into this giant blimp,” she describes. “Ultimately, the USS Macon met a tragic end.” It went down off the coast of Big Sur, after less than two years of flights. “Two people died in that crash—but 81 didn’t … Ultimately, dirigibles went out of favor because they almost all crashed. The Hindenburg happened a couple years after that.”

Why do people park on Highway 101 near Brisbane?
There’s a stretch of road along Highway 101, between the Bay and the Brisbane Lagoon, where you’ll regularly find cars pulled over on the shoulder, disregarding several signs that shout: “NO PARKING.” So what’s worth risking a ticket? This place, known as “the tubes,” allows fish to swim between the Bay and the lagoon to spawn. “There’s a fish highway right there on 101,” Olivia quips. Fisherfolk, taking advantage of the schools swimming in and out, wait at the entry to catch halibut, striped bass and even stingrays. “Fishermen are so wily,” she says. “It’s like the whole food chain’s congregating there.”

Olivia adds that this particular podcast episode segued into a larger story about local fishing spots—and Bay Curious’ field reporter ended up crab fishing on a paddleboard. After bringing her catch back home to Berkeley, reporter Katrina Schwartz recalls, “I had to pull them, alive and angry, from a cooler using these tiny kitchen tongs that were not up to the job.” One of the crafty crustaceans tried to flee the premises. “It was crawling towards her door,” Olivia laughs. “What if this crab had gotten out and it was just roaming around Berkeley? Lost crab!”

any questions? – kqed.org/baycurious

Words by Sheryl Nonnenberg

Take a drive on Alpine Road to the Ladera Country Shopper if you want to see the old adage of “do what you love and love what you do” put into action. At the far end of this popular neighborhood shopping center, you’ll find Ladera Garden and Gifts. Mercedes and Juan Navarro, who have owned this business since 1981, are not only passionate about flowers, plants and gift items but also about providing the best, most personalized service to everyone who enters their shop.

The Navarros only have time to talk to me on a Monday—the one day the garden center is closed to the public. The rest of the week finds the couple happily helping customers. Juan, who is outgoing and gregarious, jokes that he has no other hobbies because “work is a hobby.” “I like plants—they keep me entertained,” he says. Mercedes, soft-spoken and a bit shy, lights up when describing how much she enjoys finding the perfect plant or flower arrangement. “It’s fun and exciting,” she smiles, “and we love it.”

The American Dream is alive and well for the Navarros, who are something of a textbook case. They were both born to large families and raised in Guadalajara, Mexico, though that’s not where they met. Both came to the United States in 1970 looking for opportunity. Juan grew up on a farm raising crops that helped keep his family fed. Upon arriving in the U.S., he took any job he could find, including a factory position where he met Mercedes. A part-time job in a nursery soon led to a full-time position and Juan was hooked.

In 1979, he and Mercedes began working at a small nursery located on the same site as the current Ladera Garden and Gifts. It was owned by an older couple who were planning to retire. They encouraged the Navarros to undertake a sort of apprenticeship, which lasted for two years. “I learned on the job,” Juan says. Even after working closely with the previous owners, Juan and Mercedes both admit that they still had a lot to learn about running a business. “It was a risk, but we didn’t have much to lose,” Juan jokes.

The pair formally took over in 1981 and immediately began to make it their own. Mercedes, who had some previous experience working with cut flowers, decided to start offering flower arrangements. She created a space inside for florist services and indoor plants, while Juan focused on the outdoor nursery business.

When a retail space adjacent to the nursery became available, they expanded into several rooms that became the gift shop. “We have three businesses in one: the garden, the flower shop and the gifts,” says Juan. The evolution of the gift shop in 2006 was clearly the brainchild of Mercedes. She invited two longtime customers, Mary Adams and Patty Brady, both locally known interior designers and artists, to join the business and fill the new space with glassware, candles, soaps and art pieces. “They do all the interior displays,” explains Juan. “They do a beautiful job.”

Everything from French soaps, decorative vases, specialty houseware items, jewelry and perfumes are carefully curated and displayed in a manner befitting a high-end boutique. Inventory changes frequently and Mary and Patty refresh the displays every Monday when the nursery is closed. Mary and Patty get a little emotional when talking about why they joined the Navarros. “We were friends and customers of Juan and Mercedes before we started here and we both admired them so much,” says Mary. “It has been a match made in heaven.”

To source the shop’s unique items, Patty says the four of them travel to Atlanta every January to attend a huge gift convention. “We split up, shop around and meet at the end of the day for a cocktail,” she laughs. Although there are thousands of objects to see, she said that by now, the group has figured out where to go and what to avoid. She and Mary have a good sense of what will sell in Ladera and say that the trend now skews toward contemporary items.

Even with the advantage of being a one-stop shop for plants, flowers and gifts, the Navarros say that it’s not easy to own a family business. They have a small staff and it really bothers them if their customers have to wait in lines. A bad Yelp review can totally ruin Juan’s day. “We have great customers and we can devote more time to them,” says Mercedes, “and when people go home happy, that’s a good thing.” When it was pointed out that people often have to search to find any help at the big box stores, they both laughed. “We cannot compare ourselves to Home Depot. We can’t have a price war because they will beat us,” reasons Juan. “So, we have to be something different.”

Juan says he knows his clientele so well that he can anticipate their needs months in advance. And he has the advantage of being able to order unusual or rare plants that you just won’t find in a typical big box store. “People like the experience of coming here,” Juan notes. “They may walk around and see something they have never seen before.”

The Navarros encouraged their three children to pursue whatever careers they wanted. Daniel is an electrician who works at San Francisco International Airport but Adrianna and Marco followed their parents into nursery work and now own the Ladera Garden and Gifts in the Carlmont Shopping Center in Belmont. This is clearly a source of great pride for both Mercedes and Juan, who laughingly observes, “They are learning the ups and downs of this business.”

Even after all these years running Ladera Garden and Gifts, Juan and Mercedes say they have no plans to retire. They recognize that they are filling a unique niche for Peninsula residents. “We appreciate people who support us; they know it is a family business and that we are providing work for our employees,” explains Juan.

He worries that people may think their location in Ladera is off the beaten track and points out that Interstate 280 is just up the road. “We draw customers from Sunnyvale, Palo Alto and Redwood City,” he says proudly. With a huge smile, Juan adds, “Come and check us out!”

green thumbs – laderagardenandgifts.com

As told to by Margaret Koenig

They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but at 15 years old, I’m picking up new skills on the regular. My name is Jake, and I’m a Nova Scotia duck tolling retriever, a busy breed that’s notoriously hard to manage. My family loves our intelligence, humor and loyalty, so Lynn and Rick were happy to welcome me into their lives. Tollers love to retrieve—I’ve made fetching an art form—but when I first arrived, I was the one who needed retrieving after I fell under the house’s deck and refused to come out. Later, I deliberately pushed Maisie, another one of Lynn and Rick’s dogs, under the deck, which convinced them to remove the darn thing. Mission accomplished! Despite this less-than-auspicious start, my family fell for my lively demeanor and cheerful attitude. I’m a refreshing change from the high-strung personalities of many tollers. I may be a counter-surfer and a thief, but I almost always return my ill-gotten gains (if I haven’t already consumed them). I mentor my brother Wubbo, Lynn and Rick’s Kooikerhonje, teaching him to howl along with passing sirens and overcome his fear of large stuffed animals. Three years ago, I was diagnosed with a heart condition, so Lynn and I took up Rally, a low-impact dog sport. I progressed from novice to advanced so quickly, people often mistake me for a much younger dog. My heart may be weak, but my spirit is as strong as ever.

Calling All Dogs: If you've got quirky habits or a funny tale (or tail) to share, email your story to hello@punchmonthly.com for a chance to share a page from your Diary of a Dog in PUNCH.

These graceful oaks are a favorite subject of photographer Irene Searles, who finds herself driving past them on Portola Road so frequently that she’s come to think of them as “her trees.” “Sometimes horses from The Horse Park at Woodside are there, sometimes not, but I always find them to be beautiful,” she says.

Image by Irene Searles / @irenesearlesphotography

Calling all Shutterbugs: If you’ve captured a unique perspective of the Peninsula, we’d love to see your Perfect Shot. Email us at hello@punchmonthly.com to be considered for publication.

Founder of Iwaki Bonsai and San Mateo resident talks tiny trees, favorite places and how his passion first took root.

Who introduced you to the art of bonsai?
My father, Ted Taikio Iwaki. He would host backyard parties where his friends would gather, drink beer and talk about these plants. One friend, (author and bonsai master) John Naka, seemed to command the respect of all. I found out much later that these and other backyard parties were the start of the first bonsai movement in Southern California, maybe even the West Coast.

What was it like growing up with a backyard bursting with bonsai?
While we didn’t have a traditional backyard, this miniature forest made a great place to play army with my friends. And more than once, I was scolded for breaking branches during an assault.

Why is bonsai such a unique pastime?
You’re nurturing an ever-changing living sculpture.

How did you get involved with the Kusamura Bonsai Club in Palo Alto?
They originally invited me to do a demonstration and made me an honorary member. To this day, they allow me to show a tree or two in their annual show. I lead five workshop groups and half of my students are Kusamura members.

What’s a quote that really resonates with you?
“The object is not to make the tree look like a bonsai, but to make the bonsai look like a tree.”—John Naka

What are some pointers you give people starting out?
Be patient. It’s the process, not the result.

What’s your favorite garden to visit?
Filoli! I feel lucky to live so close to this historical treasure that has a variety of beautiful gardens and nature trails, but also has legacy bonsai as part of its collection. With the Kusamura Bonsai Club maintaining its collection, Filoli’s trees are doing better than ever.

Do you have any favorite hiking trails?
I like the Ancient Oaks Trail in the Russian Ridge Open Space Preserve because of its old gnarly oaks. It faces west to the ocean and offers panoramic views of the coastline. Also Purisima Creek Trail south of Half Moon Bay and all the west-facing trails at Mt. Tamalpais.

Tell us about some of your favorite trees to work with?
With junipers, the foliage is tight and very flexible to allow you (with the help of wire) to train branch pads. Many bonsai collected from wild junipers have incredible deadwood. Redwoods are easily collectible and found in the nearby Santa Cruz mountains. The best ones have large bases tapering up to the height of the final bonsai. Many times, I’ll carve the top to make it look like lightning hit it.

What is your most cherished possession?
My father’s trees, especially a double-trunk juniper he started 70 years ago.

Words by Margaret Koenig

Nestled in the heart of seaside Pescadero, bordered by ancient trees and encircled by Pescadero Creek, the charming McCormick House has impressed since the town’s earliest days. James McCormick, an Irish immigrant who played a critical role in the community’s development, built it in the Classical Revival style in 1868 for his new wife, Julia Shaffre. It’s fitting that these days, it’s not only a bed-and-breakfast but also a wedding venue. For Lisa Tune, who runs the McCormick House Inn with husband Mauro, the home’s origin story is part of its magic. “James McCormick took great care to design a home for his beloved Julia that was architecturally exquisite in every detail, and the end result is a modest-sized house that feels truly grand,” Lisa says. Owning the historic house was long a dream of hers. It spent 40 years as a rental property after it left the McCormick family’s hands. “Then one day there was a ‘for sale’ sign in the front yard, and we became the very proud owners,” Lisa recalls.

She and Mauro moved in and began making renovations in 2004, striving to preserve the integrity of the original architecture. They replaced “unsightly” 1970s vinyl flooring with centuries-old fir. Mauro built floor-to-ceiling windows from salvaged redwood to match the originals and they removed “aesthetically unfortunate” details in the kitchen in favor of a simple farmhouse aesthetic. “When we were finished, we decided it was just too lovely to keep all to ourselves,” Lisa shares. “We quickly discovered that hosting tiny events means we can share the McCormick House with even more folks, which makes us exceedingly happy.” In the spring of 2018, the McCormick House hosted its first wedding. “I cannot describe adequately in words how extraordinary it was to see this beautiful old place filled with so much love and joy.”

A Half Moon Bay fisherman talks conservation, crustaceans and being at home on the water.

How did you first get interested in commercial fishing?
One of my friends needed help and I needed some money.

What’s your boat’s name?
Bare Bones, because there was nothing on it when I got it, other than the motor. It’s a G35.

Where do you dock your boat?
My fishing boat is at Pillar Point Harbor. I also have a 40-foot motor yacht. I am a legal liveaboard.

What’s your favorite seafood dish?
Rock fish, salmon and crabs. A little butter, lemon, pepper—you can’t go wrong.

What is the strangest thing you’ve ever eaten?
Bluefin tuna, right as it’s cut off of the fish.

Do you collect anything?
Recently, a lot of seashells.

What’s your personal motto?
I say what I’m going to do, and then I do what I say I’m going to do. I try to be a man of my word.

Which age would you choose to be again and why?
Probably high school, when I was still innocent.

Where did you grow up and what was great about it?
Indianapolis, Indiana. We rode our bikes everywhere.

Where is your favorite go-to spot on the Coastside?
Pigeon Point Lighthouse.

What’s something people are always surprised to learn about you?
Evidently, I don’t look 72.

What’s the most perilous situation you’ve been in?
Crabbing. It’s hard, dangerous work.

Do you have any phobias?
Not really. Just a healthy respect for Mother Nature.

What is the biggest challenge you’re facing lately?
Staying up on rules. The regulations change all the time and you have to keep up on them.

How do you feel about ocean conservation work?
It needs to go hand-in-hand with the fishing industry. You can’t have one and not the other.

What advice do you have for the next generation of fisherfolk?
You could have good years and bad years. You gotta plan for both.

What was your first job?
Dipping ice cream at Lindner’s in Indianapolis, a store that my mom managed Saturday nights. When the Little Leaguers would come in, we would have the shake and malt machines humming.

If you had to choose a different line of work, what would it be?
I have done a lot of jobs. This is as good as it gets.

The e-bike tour guide and co-owner of Ride California shares his favorite trails, travel dreams and a timely whale tale.

Tell us about the route you’ve created for Ride California.
Our Half Moon Bay e-bike tour covers the historic downtown and the scenic Half Moon Bay Coastal Trail, which is above the majestic ocean bluffs. We’ve also added a Santa Cruz tour and just opened one in San Francisco this spring.

What makes cycling such a special way to encounter a region?
Getting outside and slowing down, you can see all the details you would miss in a car. You can breathe in all the sights. Plus you can see much more of our amazing Coastside cliffs and beaches.

Can you share an interesting fact about Half Moon Bay’s history?
Half Moon Bay was the first town settled in San Mateo County. During Prohibition, Half Moon Bay was known as a favorite place for bootleggers because of its fog and coves.

What’s at the top of your bucket list?
To e-bike in Hawaii, France and Colorado.

What’s a cool historical building in Half Moon Bay?
The old train station that has been converted into a house by Poplar Beach.

Do you have any fond bike-related childhood memories?
My dad had me and my sister do a triathlon when we were growing up and I remember thinking then—and still to this day—that the bike ride was the best part.

What age would you choose to be again and why?
I’d be 24. You have some money and all the freedom in the world.

Which coastal trail do you highly recommend?
My favorite hike is the Cowell-Purisima trail, which is three miles along the steep ocean cliffs. You can access Cowell Ranch State Beach, a 20-minute hike from the parking lot. It’s my family’s favorite beach in the area.

What’s your dream bike?
Santa Cruz Heckler SL. It’s a full-suspension mountain e-bike.

Who else is behind Ride California?
We’re a family-owned and -operated business (iridecali.com). My father and sister are partners—we all have a thirst and love for sports and the great outdoors.

What do you collect?
Guitars. I likely have 20 or so right now and at one time I had 100.

Any memorable tales from past rides?
On one tour, I mentioned that whales had been migrating through Half Moon Bay that week and that we might see some … and they didn’t believe me. At the end of the tour, I made an extra stop at a special lookout—and our guests were delighted to see a magnificent gray whale jump sky-high out of the ocean!

Words by Johanna Harlow

Once upon a time—1955, to be precise—a man with big ideas opened a small independent bookshop. The man was called Roy Kepler; the shop, Kepler’s Bookstore. And it wasn’t long before this ardent owner and peace activist started attracting the like-minded to his little store. At Kepler’s, inquisitive minds and restless spirits found a place that welcomed the sharing of ideas and social causes. The shop harbored Stanford staff and students, Beat intellectuals and pacifists—even celebrity patrons like singer/activist Joan Baez and the Grateful Dead’s Jerry Garcia. Former President Jimmy Carter stopped by for a visit.

Progressive Roy also helped popularize the paperback. Back then, many “serious” booksellers refused to carry these soft-covered books, resolved to have no association with lowbrow, penny dreadful shenanigans. But while some saw trouble, Roy saw the future.

Roy has long since passed away—but the bookstore he built perseveres. This May, it reaches the venerable age of 70. To commemorate this anniversary, Keplerites share their memories of its milestones. What could be more fitting than to celebrate this seller of stories with a few fond tales? Find your squishiest armchair and settle in for storytime at Kepler’s.

A Childhood Among The Shelves: Dawn Kepler

The smell of coffee always draws Dawn Kepler, oldest of Roy’s children, back to the bookstore. “My dad, coming out of the beatnik era, thought that a little coffee bar was important,” she reminisces. Though as a child, she admits being more preoccupied with the store’s display case of gracefully-layered baklava and brightly-colored sodas. “All of these were forbidden fruits at home. My mother didn’t believe in sugar,” Dawn says. But at the store, Dad always let the kids pick out a treat.

Dawn’s appetite for books rivaled her sweet tooth. She feasted on the written word while perched on the bookshelf’s edge, keeping as close as possible to the source. “There were chairs. There was even a sofa. But I would just sit right down there,” she laughs.

So bookish was Dawn that she once tried reading on a river trip. “(The book) came home with me four times its original size—because it was pulp,” she chuckles. On another occasion, she got in trouble for reading while cycling. “It was very safe,” Dawn wryly protests. “I had a basket on my bike. I had propped my book up on it, and I put my sweater in to hold it open.”

Dawn’s dad was also a creative problem-solver. She recounts the time Roy moved Kepler’s entire inventory to its new location via shopping carts from the grocery store down the street. “I don’t know how dad wrangled that, but my father always did deals. ‘What would help you? What would help me?’”
“It was fun to live in a bookstore,” Dawn says. Today, she runs Kepler’s Facebook page, an account she’s grown to 23,000 followers. “It’s my connection to my childhood,” she explains.

Larger-than-life Characters: Clark Kepler

Early Kepler’s employees knew Roy’s son Clark as the little boy with the Mad Magazine obsession and the black feet. Back when the store did business out of a converted auto body shop in the 1970s, “the cement floors were still stained with oil,” Clark recalls. “And people were also smoking and throwing their butts on the ground.” He also remembers the store’s larger-than-life characters, like its first employee, Gandhi scholar Ira Sandperl, who “probably held court at the bookstore more than he actually worked.”

In the ‘80s, Clark took over running the store. “I was at Sierra College when my dad asked me to come work a summer for him,” he recalls. “That summer got extended to 33 years.” During his time at its helm, Clark weathered plenty of highs and lows. There was the store’s devastating closure in 2005—and the community’s herculean efforts to revive it. On reopening day, people came in droves to support Kepler’s. Dawn baked her father’s favorite sugar cookies, handing them out to customers as they waited in a checkout line that stretched out the door. “That whole experience was life-changing and humbling,” Clark says.

Of the many events Clark has hosted at its current location downtown, the Harry Potter book releases have been among its most popular. Over the years, the festivities have ranged from scene reenactments to tales with Hagrid in the Gryffindor Common Room to Diagon Alley-themed stalls. Cafe Borrone transformed into the Death Eater Enclave, cheerfully serving macabre treats. (Cockroach clusters, anyone?) And many dressed up—including a memorable Moaning Myrtle costume that involved a toilet seat around the wearer’s neck.

“Every time you open a book, you’re entering a world, somebody else’s world—and you’re doing it with your imagination, not with your eyes or ears only,” muses Clark. “When your imagination is involved, it resonates much deeper.”

The Next Generation: Praveen Madan

Kepler’s current CEO Praveen Madan had not been in the book business long when Clark handed him Kepler’s reins. In India, “public libraries were terrible,” Praveen recalls of his childhood. “We didn’t have great access to books.” Excluding textbooks, he didn’t own his first tome until after college. “One of the first things I did with my first paycheck was buy a few science fiction books,” he recalls. Stepping into an American Barnes & Noble for the first time blew his mind.

But after moving to the States for an unfulfilling career in management consulting, Praveen underwent a crisis. “I started having this unease,” he recollects. “Was it really worth my one and only life?” Somehow, he and his wife found themselves revamping The Booksmith, a longstanding San Francisco bookstore. “I was fascinated by this dilemma,” Praveen says of the plight of the 21st-century bookstore. “What can possibly be done to evolve the business model of a bookstore so it stays relevant?” It tickled his problem-solving brain.

So a few years later, when Clark told Praveen of his plans to either pass Kepler’s on to the next generation or close it for good, Praveen wasn’t deterred by the store’s declining sales. He said yes. “It was touch-and-go for a while,” Praveen admits of the intense restructuring process. Understanding that bringing this conversation to the community would be essential, he hosted a conference and asked publishers, book sellers, authors, donors, staff and customers to help him reimagine the thriving community bookstore of today. “A lot of times, we have an instinct to try to control an outcome or make a certain decision—but often it’s better to listen, let things evolve.”

One change to Kepler’s has been its hybrid model and the addition of its nonprofit events branch. At one speaking event with Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor, Kepler’s gave free tickets and books to 120 high school kids (many from East Palo Alto and Belle Haven), then arranged a backstage meeting for them. “One young girl said to her that she was hoping to become a lawyer and eventually a judge,” Praveen recalls. “And Sonia Sotomayor said to her, ‘You call me, and I will personally swear you in.’ I still tear up thinking about that.”

Bookworm’s Haven: V.R. Ferose

When V.R. Ferose, author and head of SAP Academy for Engineering, visits a new place, he has a tradition. From Tokyo to Dubai, “one of the first things I do is check out the independent bookstore,” he says, adding that he can tell a lot about a country based on its bestseller list. “It’s basically a reflection of the conversation that people are having … What is a priority for them?”

As soon as Ferose walked into Kepler’s, he knew this place was extraordinary. “It stood for community, it stood for a larger good—and it continues to do that,” Ferose explains. Since then, Ferose has attended countless author’s events and booked Kepler’s speakers at SAP. The affection is mutual and Kepler’s carries Ferose’s books. One of his most recent, The Invisible Majority, explores the resilience of “India’s abled disabled” and includes a foreword from the Dalai Lama.

His most recent collaboration with Kepler’s—and with Oscar-nominated director Doug Roland—is a documentary film titled Reimagining Independent Bookstores. “All the documentaries that I have seen about bookstores have been looking backwards. They are seeing bookstores from the lens of nostalgia … I wanted to turn that around and say, ‘What does a future bookstore look like?’” Ferose explains. Naturally, Kepler’s was his first filming location.

If anything competes with Ferose’s love of books, it’s signed books. As a serious collector—with signatures from Martin Luther King Jr., Mahatma Gandhi and the last 11 presidents—many of Ferose’s 3,000 autographed copies come from his favorite Menlo Park bookstore. “My wife is not amused that I’m using all the wardrobes to keep books,” he chuckles.

A Family Affair: Amanda Hall

“Kepler’s isn’t just a retail store,” muses the bookstore’s COO Amanda Hall. “Yes, we sell books, but it’s really a place to gather, to share information, to learn, to grow up.”

People even fall in love here. Recently, Amanda saw a couple who’d spent their first date bantering and browsing the bookstore return to Kepler’s to pose for engagement photos. “We are a part of family traditions,” adds Amanda, remarking that she sees a large number of families visit the day after Thanksgiving—right after a big breakfast at Cafe Borrone.

Amanda’s own daughters have made many memories here. “They grew up in the bookstore,” she says, recalling her older daughter’s thrilling encounter with Hunger Game’s Suzanne Collins at an event. “Authors in our world are rock stars.”

Amanda’s younger daughter, a big fan of the Babymouse series, also got to meet her idol. “I would say she was a reluctant reader, and these silly graphic novels were what started her love of reading. So for her to get to hang out for a day with Jennifer L. Holm, with a cupcake crown, and be a part of the event and the reading, that was amazing.” In later years, both daughters would come to work at the store.

People may have come and gone from Kepler’s, but there’s one constant: its staff has faithfully tended the bookstore’s flame, keeping it shining from one generation to the next. Thanks to them, patrons old and new are still finding books that expand their horizons, 70 years after Roy Kepler opened its doors. “It makes you feel honored to be the steward of something that is so important to them,” says Amanda. Your last name doesn’t have to be Kepler to be a part of this ever-growing bookstore family.

story time – keplers.com

Words by Jennifer Jory

You’ve probably driven past Olsen Nolte on El Camino Real in San Carlos numerous times, noticed the horse perched on top of a simple sign saying Saddle Shop, and wondered: How has this business lasted so long? If you walk inside, you’ll meet one of the main reasons it’s stood the test of time. Owner Al Baglietto started working at Olsen Nolte in 1957, back when he was still in high school. “I have never left,” he jokes. “I was just a kid interested in horses.”

He fondly recalls being 11 and taking Junior Rider lessons with Myra Duncan at her farm at Woodside and Kings Mountain roads in Woodside. Now in his 80s, Al still rides Western-style and keeps a horse with a trainer. His wife Nancy used to ride English, but has since hung up her saddle. The couple lives in Portola Valley and is known for being knowledgeable about all things horse-related.

Long ago, Al and Nancy decided that the best way to work together selling Western and English riding gear and apparel was to divvy up the responsibilities. “He buys equipment and I buy the clothes,” Nancy says, pointing out that she insists vendors send her fabric swatches so she can touch the products before ordering them. “This is a business you have to know and appreciate.”

Al is also a strong proponent of selecting the very best. “A part of what’s made it successful is that safety is the No. 1 issue. Choosing quality will make sure equipment won’t break,” he says. Most of the products sold at Olsen Nolte are made in America. In fact, most tourists who stop in request items that are marked “Made in the USA.”

Olsen Nolte last made its own saddles, bits and spurs in 1985. The business dates back to 1936, when saddle-maker Al Nolte opened up the original store at Third Street and Newcomb Avenue in San Francisco’s Bayview District, then a hub of stockyards, trains and boats. John Olsen joined the company a year later and bought out his partner in 1939. Al likes to honor that momentous year by always wearing a silver belt buckle the shop made to commemorate the 1939 World’s Fair at Treasure Island.

In the early days, Olsen Nolte’s customers were cowboys—some were seeking new gear and others wanted repairs. A life-sized papier-mâché horse named Mitch was used to fit harnesses, and now stands in the back of the store. The San Carlos location opened in the early 1960s, replacing Olsen Nolte shops that had been located in Redwood City and Palo Alto. The Bagliettos bought the business in 1965 and still remember when stockyards were located near Broadway and the train tracks in Redwood City. “This is just a convenient location, close to two bridges and the airport, and we get a lot of people from across the Bay and the coast,” Al says.

Nancy describes today’s customers as “more pleasure riders, not working cowboys anymore—more wannabe cowboys” who are buying boots for line dancing and hats and shirts for costume parties or vacations at dude ranches. “We carry a lot of the traditional stuff and a lot of the fun party stuff, party shirts that are embroidered,” she says, noting the American flag shirt is popular for both the Fourth of July and concerts.

Celebrities such as Bing Crosby and Neil Young have shopped at Olsen Nolte, as well as Tennessee Ernie Ford, who turned heads when he sang his trademark tune, “Sixteen Tons,” while in the store. The couple still smiles when talking about the time singer Art Garfunkel showed up barefoot. Other memorable shoppers include the San Francisco 49ers, who came after the team made it to the 1982 Super Bowl in Michigan and wanted to get outfitted in cowboy boots and hats.

Even non-celebrity customers have made lasting memories at Olsen Nolte. One time, a group of Islamic shoppers were in a panic because they needed a place to pray. The Bagliettos accommodated them by setting them up in a private room with horse blankets to use as prayer rugs. And Nancy has to laugh about the cheeky mother and grandmother who came in about 10 years ago with little kids who tried on clothes and climbed on saddles. After taking pictures, they left without buying anything but thanked Nancy on the way out for helping them come up with a cute Christmas card.

Over the years, Olsen Nolte has provided complete outfits for TV commercials advertising everything from McDonald’s and GMC trucks to pharmaceuticals and cookies. The shop used to make things for Disneyland’s Frontierland, including gear for its horses and carriages, and gun holsters for the cowboys. Scattered around the store are many items for sale that come with their own histories, such as the custom-made Olsen Nolte saddle from the late 1940s and a sterling silver Visalia bit that was hand-forged in the late 1930s. Artifacts decorating the walls and ceilings lend themselves to even more storytelling. If you stop by, ask about the harness that businessman Ralph K. Davies acquired when he bought an old fire house in San Francisco.

The Bagliettos clearly delight in working among all the old and new items. They just wish more people were bitten by the same passion they have for all things equestrian. “Our children are all grown up and ready to retire. Our grandkids have their own careers, and no one is horsey,” Nancy says. “Horses, in general, are not as prevalent as they were 20 to 30 years ago,” she observes.

Even so, Al remains optimistic about the enduring loyalty of their many longtime customers. “We’re seeing third and fourth generations. If grandmothers are horse owners, you can believe granddaughters are involved. We’re seeing a revolving door, basically.”

Words by Margaret Koenig

Guarding the entrance to Willow Oaks Park, Brian Goggin and Michael Ekerman’s “Convertibles” sprouts out of the earth with vigor one wouldn’t typically expect from a towering statue of couches. To Brian and Michael, this stony sculpture is not just a salute to the sedentary but also a reflection on the evolving relationship between the land and its inhabitants, from the Indigenous peoples who lived in relative harmony with nature to the European settlers who sought domination over the environment, gradually transforming it into the suburban landscape of Menlo Park today. The sculpture uses “this image of couches to attract the attention of the suburban mind,” Brian explains. They erupt from the earth and climb toward the sky like a blooming plant reaching for the sun. After enlisting Michael, a local artist who specializes in stone masonry, they labored throughout the cold, wet winter of 1999-2000 to bring their vision to life. They dug the foundation by hand (with some help from Michael’s 90-year-old father-in-law), manually built the rebar for the statue’s internal framework and painstakingly tied individual stones into the sculpture, a process that took around six months. “It was a challenge building something that big and that crazy, but I like doing stuff that hasn’t been done before,” Michael says. The river rock cobbles create a flowing, expressive look that borders on the abstract, allowing the sculpture to be, in Brian’s words “part of this collaborative, artistic, three-dimensional conversation” with viewers and with the earth itself. “I’m interested in having my work opening up like a flower that has beauty, humor, thought and an invitation to interact with consciousness.” Most of all, the two artists hope that the piece will resonate with viewers for years to come. “Human life is so short,” Brian says. “However, the life of a stone sculpture can be very long.”

As told to by Margaret Koenig

At first glance, I may look like a pampered lap dog—but I have no problem getting my paws dirty. Fannie adopted me after an extensive search process to find a canine that fit her criteria: athletic, non-shedding, highly intelligent, social and able to fit under an airplane seat. Lucky for her, she found the perfect pup—that’s me, Beau, a papillon with big ears and a bigger heart. As the first of my four siblings to venture out of the whelping box to investigate the world, I’ve always possessed a natural curiosity and easy confidence—traits that have served me well in my life in Atherton. I spend my days off-leash, hiking trails, playing with my many four-legged friends and hunting down small bugs (this last hobby resulted in the “chip” on the side of my tongue, a souvenir from a run-in with a venomous insect). I’ve also taken up agility training, where my speed, energy and fearlessness make for a thrilling time. I love racing around on the course, even if it’s not always in the correct direction. (But we’re working on it!) I’m as skilled a fitness trainer as I am a trainee, and I often coach Fannie during her own workouts, offering motivation by perching on her stomach while she does crunches. Really, what could be more inspiring than that?

Calling All Dogs: If you've got quirky habits or a funny tale (or tail) to share, email your story to hello@punchmonthly.com for a chance to share a page from your Diary of a Dog in PUNCH.

Words by Sloane Citron

I’ve gotten a lot of grief recently for not eating enough, or for being too skinny. I explain that my BMI is right in the middle of the “normal weight” category, and that I weigh the same as I did in high school. Still, I get annoying comments. Food has never been something I much cared about, and I’m afraid my life experiences have turned me into more of a “eat to live” guy than someone who lives to eat.

My mother did her best to have a good dinner for us every night until she left home when I was 12. From then until I left for prep school at Andover, I mostly was in charge of my own dinner. I opened lots of cans while my dad was out dating. It was a quick way to get skinny. I didn’t much mind, since it was better than having to go over to some strange woman’s home and eat there.

In the mornings, my dad would make breakfast, and he loved his eggs so raw that they were runny. I would choke on them and tell him that they looked like snot. He would yell at me to eat them. I gagged them down, but I was well into adulthood before I could enjoy eggs.

When I went away to school at 15, it was the start of seven years of being served mediocre cafeteria food until I finished college. The next two years, while I was at Stanford Business School, most dinners consisted of Top Ramen, which was my main food source, or cereal, usually Trix.

After Stanford, my wife and I lived for a year in Jerusalem, and we had almost no money. Late on Friday afternoons at the open-air market, Machane Yehuda, the left-over, third-rate food was abandoned. We, along with other poor folks, gathered it up to see us through the week. Along with some cheese, eggs and bread, we survived.

My wife made wonderful meals while we raised our four children, while most of my energy was focused on controlling the rambunctious kids—getting them to the table, shutting down arguments and petty fights, using parental tricks to get them to eat something and forcing them to take their dirty plates to the sink. My other role was doing the dishes—which I do well. It’s a chore I’d much rather undertake than cooking—something I don’t do well.

It seems like such an extreme effort—go to the store, buy all the ingredients, get them home, figure out the recipes, chop away, look for spices, cook everything and then, in a heartbeat, most of it is eaten up. The whole effort seems like a colossal waste of time, especially when you could be watching reruns of Bonanza or The Middle.

These days, finding dinner is a challenge. Occasionally my overworked wife has a moment to make some chicken soup or stew. Once a week, I’ll throw some chicken (and occasionally, if there is any in our home, red meat) on the grill and wait 16 minutes until it’s done. That I can handle. Often for dinner I have a piece of chicken with a microwaved bag of Trader Joe’s broccoli, and I’m content.

Of course, keeping kosher complicates things. Unless I have the foresight to bring meat up from Los Angeles when I am there, I’m dependent on Trader Joe’s for its few kosher meat items, mostly chicken. (Don’t get me wrong—I’m eternally grateful that it carries any kosher meat!) But they only stock one type of steak, and that only during the summer, so I don’t eat much red meat.

For a good portion of my life, food has been something that I’ve not been able to enjoy much. Instead, it’s been more of a burden and that is why, I’m quite sure, that I eat to live. But I’m okay with it. When I’m in Israel, the meals are incredibly delicious, and I’ll remember how good food can taste.

These days, after I finish my work at PUNCH and go for a run, I head down to the kitchen to figure out how to fill my stomach with the least amount of effort. And generally speaking, it’s that old but incredibly reliable option, Top Ramen. Though the price has shot up from around 20 cents a pack when I was a graduate student to 80 cents today, it’s still the tastiest, most filling meal that one can have. All you need to do is boil some water and open a packet. And that’s something even this dispassionate cook can handle.

Words by Jamie Duddy and Jill Johnson

Step inside five stunning homes and discover the latest in interior design at the 43rd SolMateo Signature Kitchen Tour on May 16. This self-guided event runs from 10AM to 3PM and offers a rare opportunity to explore beautifully remodeled properties in Hillsborough and San Mateo—all in support of a meaningful cause.

May is Mental Health Awareness month and SolMateo is committed to bringing attention to this important topic. For nearly 50 years, SolMateo has been a proud supporter of mental health organizations on the Peninsula, with proceeds from the Signature Kitchen Tour benefiting local causes. SolMateo is the largest private donor to the Mental Health Association of San Mateo County and the StarVista Crisis Center, which operates a 24-hour helpline.

Ready to join SolMateo for a day of inspiration, beautiful designs and a chance to make a difference? Your ticket includes a full-color tour book, offering a closer look at the beautiful details and features complementing each home. Purchase tickets online at SolMateo.org.

White Colonial Dream House

This colonial home embraces both traditional elegance and warm family comfort. Walking through the front door one can see the beautifully appointed formal dining room to the left and a classical formal parlor to the right. Step a bit farther inside and be welcomed into the large kitchen, casual dining and family space. The chef’s kitchen features a large Calacatta Oro Franchi Supreme polished island with cabinets below in Benjamin Moore Mopboard Black. In custom traditional style, the kitchen cabinets are in Simply White and are enhanced by a Bianco Carrara Polished Roman Brick backsplash. With bespoke swivel chairs along the counter and custom-crafted vintage cane-backed chairs in the dining room, the space is elegantly furnished.

Nearby, the family room has been curated for comfort and style with WH Signature Elements sofas and a Jaunty Mystique Collection rug. The home combines tasteful marble and wood elements with the blues and greens of the lush outdoors, making it a true dream house.

 

Charming European-Inspired Ranch

Surprise and delight await as you enter this inviting ranch-style home in verdant San Mateo Park. The aged European cottage feel of the newly renovated kitchen creates a welcoming warmth, as do the views of the garden outside. Each detail works in harmony to create a bespoke English Country kitchen, from the uniquely sized backsplash tile over the sink to the charming light fixtures curated from deVol in England. The marble shelf over the range is both an elegant detail and added bit of practicality.

As you wrap up your tour, make sure to peek into the family room to appreciate the bar cabinet to the right. It blends with the room’s aesthetic, while also being excellent for entertaining. You can also step outside for a refreshing garden stroll..

Colorful French Regency

If the eye-catching front door of this French Regency home, painted in Benjamin Moore’s Mystic Grape, is any indication of what’s to come, prepare to be wowed! Passing through the main home’s accessible foyer, floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors invite you into the backyard where you are greeted by an enormous azure swimming pool and a cheery, newly-completed ADU painted in a bright coral.

This gem of a retreat sparkles in a vibrant palette of blues and greens. A large covered patio is surrounded by mature trees and lush greenery. The fully equipped kitchen features all-stainless appliances, accented by indigo blue Wilsonart slab laminate lower cabinets and topped with crisp white quartzite counters. Hand-cast unlacquered brass dogwood flower pulls, originally sculpted in clay, adorn the white upper cabinets. Artfully glazed stoneware raku tiles, in a symphony of variegated blues, complete the backsplash and frame the windows. This accessory unit is a perfect addition for entertaining, both inside and out.

Contemporary Mediterranean Retreat

Nestled within a timeless Mediterranean-style estate originally built in 1930 and meticulously remodeled in 2024, this enchanting home epitomizes versatile living. Bathed in natural light, the airy interior seamlessly integrates views of lush gardens and the serene Bay from nearly every vantage point. From the jewel-box teal powder room off the foyer to the sueded wall finish in the game room and the deep blue of the media room, thoughtful use of color and texture reigns supreme in this well-designed family home.

The spacious, bright kitchen features contemporary selections like state-of-the-art appliances and a custom Escalante 5 pendant light, harmoniously blending with classic materials such as honed Caldia marble counters, zellige ceramic tile and a plaster hood, creating a culinary haven ideal for both daily family life and grand soirées.

Outside, a meticulously landscaped Mediterranean sanctuary beckons, offering a picturesque backdrop for relaxation, entertaining and cherished family moments. This seamless flow of light and color, effortlessly connects indoor elegance with tranquil outdoor splendor.

Old-World Spanish Colonial

This Spanish Colonial residence blends timeless architectural elements with contemporary design, creating a dynamic and functional space for a busy family. The exterior is distinguished by a grand, front-facing arched window and a terracotta-tiled roof, epitomizing classic Spanish Colonial architecture. The interior is adorned with intricately-carved banisters and doors, reflecting the rich heritage of old-world craftsmanship.

The bright and airy kitchen features a soothing palette of blues and grays. Catering to culinary needs with a Viking stove and Waterstone fixtures, this space also acts as a family gathering spot with custom Shaker cabinets, Vadara quartz countertop and porcelain tile floor. A thoughtfully designed pass-through bar area with a Biseau Verdigris Blend Hexagon Gloss tile backsplash is a striking connection between the kitchen and the entryway, facilitating effortless entertaining.

Throughout the residence, bold accents of blues and greens infuse rooms with depth and character, reflecting contemporary design trends while maintaining a timeless appeal. This home stands as a testament to the enduring allure of Spanish Colonial design, thoughtfully updated to meet the demands of modern family living.

solmateo.org

Editor’s note: This story corrects an erroneous version of the Old-World Spanish Colonial description that appeared in the May 2025 print edition.

Words by Johanna Harlow

It’s 1972 and a Ford Galaxie leaves SFO Airport, driving along 101, then winding its way up hilly Page Mill Road. Turning onto a private drive, the car rumbles along the dirt driveway and pulls up outside a rambling farmhouse. Famed bluegrass musician Earl Scruggs and his entourage step out, ready for a remarkable meeting with singer Joan Baez.

The impromptu musical collaboration that follows is captured by filmmaker David Hoffman in his documentary Earl Scruggs: The Bluegrass Legend—Family & Friends. “Earl is on a personal search,” David says of the film’s premise. “He’s looking at places where banjo can be used in other kinds of music… He’s going to different people he likes, to try to find how his music fits.” Earl’s quest would later air on PBS. “The film was very popular on public television,” recalls David. “In the prime time, it got a very high rating—which surprised the people at PBS, because they weren’t used to country (music) being that popular.”

David captures Earl’s jam sessions with The Byrds, Bob Dylan and Doc Watson, among others. But Earl’s collaboration with Joan is arguably the film’s most powerful. After recently reposting the clip on his YouTube channel, David received over 25,000 likes. What went down on this day on the Peninsula clearly still strikes a chord over 50 years later. But why? To understand, you need to know all the players.

Cover Photo: Courtesy of Raph PH / Photo: David Hoffman

The Camera Guy

Before discussing the legends in front of the camera, take a moment to meet the visionary behind it. A scrappy filmmaker, David Hoffman is the kind of guy who jumps right into the action, hand-held camera at the ready. “There were maybe about a hundred of us in the country who were doing this kind of work—hand-holding, just talking to people,” he recalls. As a documentarian for hire, David has done a bit of everything over his long career. His subjects ranged from competitive inline skating and the military to Wall Street trading and 1960s drug culture. “I had my standards—but you could’ve hired me to do tooth decay, and I would have done a documentary on it,” David chuckles.

That said, his background scored him plenty of music-related projects. “I was a classical musician. I played oboe,” David says. “But then I played banjo and I had a folk song group in college. We played all the Pete Seeger songs. It was a pretty common, rebellious thing to do.”
The filmmaker’s respect for the country genre is evident. “On Long Island, where I grew up, you heard the Grand Ole Opry on Saturday night on the radio,” he describes. “And us music kids, we thought it was unbelievable … I still am mesmerized by the soul of that music.”

d (Photo: Courtesy of David Hoffman

Though David’s films have garnered Emmys, Golden Globes and an Academy Award, he doesn’t put much stock in such things. “Awards don’t mean anything really, you know?” he says with a shrug. “Some of my best films didn’t get noticed at all.”

So what does he care about? “I’m interested in what people think, and the way they express themselves,” he says of his deeply human approach to filmmaking, adding, “My talent is a sixth sense for what people are not saying.”

The Music Man

But let’s get back to Earl Scruggs, the heart of David’s documentary. Back in 1972, North Carolina native Earl had pioneered the bluegrass genre with Bill Monroe’s band, the Blue Grass Boys. He’d also revolutionized three-finger banjo picking (known as “Scruggs-style” today). Despite these contributions, Earl was chasing a more contemporary sound. After breaking with his more traditional musical partner Lester Flatt, Earl reached out to musicians he respected to set up jam sessions, embarking on a journey that would be highly influential in developing his sound as an artist over the rest of his seven-decade career. Along for the ride were David behind the camera and Earl’s musician sons (Randy on guitar and Gary playing bass).

Photo: Courtesy of David Hoffman

These jam sessions, set in the intimate spaces of people’s homes or the freedom of country fields, have an earnestness about them. And so does Earl. “Mensch of a guy, beautiful human being,” David says of how Earl treated artists and film crew alike with respect and dignity.

On his quest, Earl made music with The Byrds on a farm in North Carolina while horses cantered by and a barefoot kid perched on the tin roof for a view of the visitors. He and Doc Watson dragged chairs onto the lawn to strum in the great outdoors. Earl also paid a house call to Bob Dylan, playing as the pendulum of the old wall clock kept time like a metronome. And now, he’d arrived on the Peninsula.

The Legend / Humble Hostess

The East Coast-West Coast divide was evident as soon as Earl and the gang entered Joan’s house. “I’m gonna call it a hippie house,” New Yorker David says of the legend’s modest farmhouse with hillside views and outdoor shower. “I’m an East Coast guy—I’d never seen an outdoor shower!” he notes with a chuckle. “Two extraordinarily different cultures.” As the protest folk singer, the trailblazing country musician and his sons settle onto chairs and an earth-brown couch in the living room and begin tuning their instruments, a sense of anticipation builds. What’s about to transpire?
While their home lives may have looked different, Joan and Earl were united in opposing the Vietnam War. This was a particularly gutsy stance for Earl. “For him to say that is a big deal, because country music was notorious for people being for the Vietnam War,” David explains. “Earl was not highly political, but he was bold.” In the midst of a national draft and seemingly endless conflict, “he wanted the boys to come home,” David reflects. “That’s all he cared about.”

Photo: Courtesy of David Hoffman

Joan and Earl also shared the easy camaraderie of old friends. About a decade earlier, they had met at the Newport Folk Festival, then went on to play together. The first few times the two interacted, Earl had a quiet but sweet line of approach. “He was so shy,” Joan recalls. “He used to come up and say, ‘Remember this one?’” Then he’d launch into a song on the banjo and wait for her to join in. “I had reason to be shy,” Earl protests. “I admired your singing so very much.”

And then Joan, strumming her own guitar, starts to sing. “Her voice.… it gets you,” David says. “Joan, you’ve got to understand, was overwhelmingly powerful. Her presence, the way she spoke, the way she sang, her decency, it overwhelmed me. It overwhelmed all of my film crew.” As Earl, Gary and Randy began to play, the warmth of their music complimented the alluring lilt of Joan’s vocals. “It worked,” David says. “And I was fortunate enough to witness it.”

Human Harmonized

But this musical meet-up was bigger than the songs performed that day. Perhaps what resonates with the current-day viewers of David’s film are all the spontaneous and delightfully human moments sprinkled throughout. While singing ex-boyfriend Bob Dylan’s hit song “Love Is Just a Four-Letter Word,” Joan breaks into her uncanny Dylan impression. After, she pulls her baby Gabriel onto her lap—and he promptly wraps chubby fingers around the microphone before gumming on the mouthpiece.

Halfway through the session, Joan divulges that she had a crush on Earl years earlier. With girlish glee, she recounts the time she gave a concert with Earl, then gushed about him to a stranger in the ladies room. “I said, ‘Oh gosh, this guy Earl, he’s just so far out!’” The woman turned out to be Earl’s wife Louise Scruggs. “I said, ‘You lucky bum!’” Joan recalls with a smile.

Despite her lofty reputation, Joan is gracious with Earl’s less-experienced sons. There’s a sweet moment when she gives an appreciative nod to Earl’s 16-year-old son Randy, recognizing his talent. “She looks at him like, ‘Whoa, who are you, kid?’” David recalls. The teen would go on to become one of the great Nashville backup musicians, winning four Grammy Awards.
At the end of the session, Earl’s oldest, Gary, dedicates a song to Joan’s husband David Harris, who was serving prison time for refusing to report for military duty after being drafted. The compassionate moment and tender lyrics of “If I Were a Carpenter” ends the session on a sweet note.

“Save your love through loneliness, save your love through sorrow,” Joan and Gary harmonize. “I gave you my onliness, give me your tomorrow.”
“We knew we had recorded beautiful moments, casual moments,” David reflects.

Joan Baez's outdoor shower was a foreign concept to East Coast filmmaker David Hoffman. When she invited him to try it out, he went in with his clothes on. Joan, finding this hilarious, joined him while also fully dressed. (Photo: Courtesy of David Hoffman)

The Road Ahead

Fueled by his quest for a new sound, Earl thrived in the years that followed. This boundary-crossing artist would go on to win multiple Grammys and be inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame. He and his sons, performing together as The Revue, would be recognized as pioneers of the country-rock genre. At the age of 79, Earl would be presented with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

As for David, that East Coast guy now lives in Santa Cruz. In recent years, the filmmaker created a YouTube channel, where he’s connected with new audiences by releasing old clips from his past projects. Even at 83—months after surviving a stroke—he continues posting videos twice a day. “It’s a wonderful community,” David says. “I read almost all the comments.” His more than 1 million subscribers would suggest that the feeling is mutual.

And how about our local legend Joan? Inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the now Woodside-based protest singer is still pouring herself into music and political activism at the age of 84. Recently, she was honored at the 30th anniversary of the Sweet Relief Musicians Fund in San Francisco, performing alongside a dazzling lineup that included Bonnie Raitt, Taj Mahal and Emmylou Harris. Working the stage, she shook a tambourine during one tune and sang alongside Jackson Browne on a piano bench for another. She closed the evening with a rousing performance of “Diamonds and Rust,” with her grown son Gabriel playing percussion.

Listen to Joan and Earl

Sit down with Linda Hubbard, and you’ll be struck by how quickly it feels like you’re talking to an old friend. Her friendly tone infuses InMenlo, the hyper-local community news blog she’s been running since 2010. Covering the Midpeninsula communities of Menlo Park, Atherton, Portola Valley and Woodside, it’s the online equivalent of a chatty, well-informed neighbor giving you the scoop on all those little things that make your hometown unique. Which house has the best Halloween decorations? Is there a good event to take the kids to this weekend? And did you hear about the married couple who are both 100 years old? InMenlo is here for you.

Daily emails from InMenlo tend to have a handful of short items. The tone is light—you won’t find stories about politics or crime—but the website’s origin story is a little less rosy. InMenlo started as a passion project born of necessity.

Though she’s a longtime journalist, Linda wasn’t the founder of InMenlo, which launched in 2009. That honor goes to Linda’s late husband Chris Gulker. After a terminal brain cancer diagnosis derailed his high-profile career in photojournalism and tech, Chris wanted to do something that accommodated his newly limited mobility. He launched the platform with his good friend Scott Loftesness. Linda’s involvement was modest at first—she still had a day job—but after Chris died in 2010, she made the decision to keep InMenlo going. “I could make my way around Menlo Park and be a journalist, not a widow,” she says of that first difficult year. “It was something I could do, and something that I liked doing.”

While Chris created what’s widely considered to be one of the very first blogs (gulker.com), Linda’s journalism career was more traditional: writing and editing for newspapers and magazines, then transitioning to marketing. Among the suite of skills Linda’s picked up over the years, her ability to connect with people just might be the glue that holds InMenlo together. As an avid walker and restaurant patron, she’s always out and about, talking to people. “I get a decent amount of tips,” Linda says. Mostly, they come from InMenlo readers. “Our biggest post ever was when Steph Curry was going to be at Safeway,” she says of the Golden State Warriors star’s 2024 promotional appearance in Menlo Park. “That got 11,000 views.”

Linda keeps up the website and sends out daily email digests with only one paid staffer—the IT guy. Everything else is the work of her small team of volunteer contributors and of Linda herself. As many a media organization has discovered, keeping a crew of unpaid “citizen journalists” engaged and productive is no mean feat. Neither is replenishing their ranks when they drift away. “People raise their hands, and that leads to more people,” she says simply, adding that she doesn’t think she’s had a volunteer yet who didn’t have a connection to some other InMenlo contributor.

Anyone who subscribes to InMenlo’s emails might wonder if Linda ever takes a day off. The answer is: not really. “The good news about InMenlo is that none of my posts are lengthy,” she says modestly. On a recent day, Linda had two interviews that still needed to be written up, and plenty of other newsy items in the works. The time demand varies, but her commitment to posting items seven days a week does not. Even on vacation, she says she can always carve out a few hours to work on it.

Linda’s love of the news business dates back to Menlo-Atherton High School. She learned from a “terrific journalism teacher” and worked on the yearbook staff, then continued taking journalism classes while majoring in history at UCLA. One of her professors got Linda a job interview at the LA Times with “a fabulous crusty old editor” who hired her on the spot for an entry level job on the newsroom’s copy desk. “I guess he thought I could handle it,” Linda says. By assisting the reporters and witnessing their conversations with that old editor, she learned what it meant to be a journalist. “The cool thing about journalism is that I have met so many interesting people,” she says.

After college, Linda stayed in Southern California, eventually leaving the LA Times for Modern Maturity (now called AARP The Magazine). When Chris got a job offer from San Francisco Examiner publisher Will Hearst in 1990, Linda says she jumped at the chance to move back to the Peninsula. “I was happy to be home.” The publisher of the Palo Alto-based Peninsula Times Tribune—a former boss and friend from the LA Times—offered Linda a job heading up the marketing department. It was her first foray into the business side of news, and led to roles with a string of small marketing companies after the struggling newspaper finally folded in 1993.

When InMenlo turned 12 in 2021, the Menlo Park City Council took notice, issuing a proclamation declaring Linda a beloved local institution “as an ever-present and studious chronicler of the community.” It lauded her many roles, including editor, reporter and occasional photographer, and praised her “commitment to providing a reliable, impartial and detailed news source during a period when many communities have experienced the demise of local news sources.” InMenlo is studiously apolitical—not for lack of interest in local politics, Linda says, but because she doesn’t have the resources to cover it properly.

Linda has a tendency to deflect attention from herself by talking warmly about her late husband’s many accomplishments, and equally warmly about her second husband, Dennis Nugent, and the life they’ve built together. Dennis is one of Linda’s many connections from her Menlo Park school days. The two shared mutual friends from elementary school and got to know each other while at Menlo-Atherton. After reconnecting decades later, they proudly display photos of their blended family in their cozy home.

As for what’s next for InMenlo? More of the same, as far as Linda is concerned. She has no plans to retire from this labor of love. “InMenlo evolves along with the people who contribute to it,” Linda says, admitting that “It feels good to give something back to the community.”
Especially a community that she clearly adores.

neighborly news – inmenlo.com

The Grammy-nominated ensemble singer from Menlo Park sounds off about her first time at Carnegie Hall, why she doesn’t play soccer with bare feet and the song that made her cry on a plane.

Where do you sing?
I’m a cantor at St. Raymond Catholic Church in Menlo Park and perform with two Bay Area choral ensembles: Peninsula Cantare and the San Francisco Bach Choir.

Did you attend the Grammy Awards?
For “Best Choral Performance” nominees, the artistic director and the composer attend. While I was watching from home, my phone was blowing up with texts and pictures from my fellow ensemble members and folks at the ceremony sharing pictures and memories of our performance.

How do you approach singing solo versus as part of a chorus?
You really have to change the way you listen. In an ensemble, you have to make sure that you blend with the singers around you and move as one unit. When you sing as a soloist, you alone are vocally responsible for the emotion and direction of the piece.

What do you collect?
Vintage sheet music. I treasure the arrangements I have of pop music from the 1940s made famous by Doris Day.

Tell us about your first time at Carnegie Hall.
It was with The Oratorio Society of New York for the world premiere of Paul Moravec’s Sanctuary Road. The performance made me feel like I had finally arrived as a New Yorker and my “commute” from my apartment was a short subway ride to one of the grandest concert halls in the world. It all felt very fabulous and surreal.

Is there a piece of music you could listen to again and again?
The second movement of Tchaikovsky’s Fifth Symphony. The first time I heard the French horn solo, I was on a plane and was so moved that I started sobbing.

Can you share a childhood musical memory?
When I was a little girl, I sang “Edelweiss” from The Sound of Music in front of a live audience for the first time at the local library talent show in my hometown of Darien, Connecticut.

What’s the dumbest way you’ve been hurt?
I was playing a pick-up soccer game in middle school, barefoot, against someone wearing Doc Marten steel-toe boots. Guess who ended up breaking their toe?

What’s your favorite venue for performing?
Madison Square Garden. I performed there several times with Andrea Bocelli during his North America tours and the energy of 20,000 people reacting to your music at once is electrifying!

What age would you choose to be again?
I would be six years old because I loved kindergarten and have so many happy memories. My favorite was going to The Plaza hotel in New York City for tea for my sixth birthday, like Eloise from the Kay Thompson books.

What are you looking forward to this summer?
I’m singing the National Anthem at games for a couple of Bay Area professional sports teams. I’ll have more info on my website, thecharlottereed.com.

As told to by Margaret Koenig

I’m Buster, a terrier mix of many talents, including (but not limited to) snuggling, frolicking and delighting everyone I meet. With my scruffy good looks, outgoing nature and boundless energy, it’s hard not to fall prey to my charms. Three years ago, I bounded out of the Humane Society Silicon Valley shelter in Milpitas and into the lives of Hilary and Ed—and I haven’t looked back since. My love of cuddling delighted my new family, who happily let me squeeze between them on the sofa when they watch television. As for me, I enjoy their fondness for petting me (you know, you can never get too much of that). But you don’t get a name like Buster just by being affectionate—I have a frisky streak as well. We split our time between Palo Alto and Los Gatos, where I enjoy brisk walks with Ed, playing ‘keep away’ with Hilary and chasing squirrels in the backyard. I haven’t captured any squirrels yet, but I have mastered the art of pilfering biscuits. If I’m presented with a dog treat, I’ll snatch it and dash away so easily that I sometimes suspect people are letting me have them. But be careful, because I won’t just steal your dog biscuits or your spot on the sofa—I’ll also steal your heart.

Calling All Dogs: If you've got quirky habits or a funny tale (or tail) to share, email your story to hello@punchmonthly.com for a chance to share a page from your Diary of a Dog in PUNCH.

Words by Margaret Koenig

What better place to put a local history museum than in a historic house? Preservation-minded Woodsiders did just that—but it wasn’t easy. Construction on one-time Pioneer Hotel owner Peter Mathisen’s house in Woodside Town Center was completed one day before the 1906 earthquake struck, according to local lore. For the next 85 years, three generations of his family called it home. In 1992, the town of Woodside bought the old Mathisen farmstead, including the barn, bunkhouse and surrounding land, planning to tear down the structures and install parking spaces. Fast-forward to 1999, when the much-delayed parking project was finally getting underway. Members of the Woodside History Committee pleaded with the Town Council to spare the sturdy old farmhouse, a reminder of Woodside’s humble origins. It’s a deal, the council said, but only if you can raise the hundreds of thousands of dollars the project will cost—and, by next week, draw up a plan for relocating the house from its current site.

Remarkably, the volunteer committee pulled it off. Woodside architects Thalia and Steve Lubin drafted plans for repairing and renovating the Mathisen house, uncovering its original siding and restoring its porch. Woodside contractor William Butler’s firm handled the work and in 2003, the Woodside Community Museum opened its doors with an exhibit on the area’s first inhabitants: the Ohlone. Since then, exhibitions have celebrated everything from the town’s equestrian heritage and great estates to its long history of wine-making. The museum’s newest display honors the 100th anniversary of the Woodside Fire Protection District. Visit on the first and third Saturdays of the month from 1 to 3PM; admission is free. woodsidehistory.org

Words by Johanna Harlow

Silent and still is something SFO Museum is not. At San Francisco International Airport, Terminal 2 is alive with the whir of rolling luggage and the constant murmur and flow of people. Some stop to appreciate a museum display, resting their arms on suitcase handles. Others hitch up their backpack straps and press on to the nearby bookstore or Air Canada lounge. One harried traveler rushes by in a whirlwind of wheels and heels in a desperate bid to make her plane.

“Over 52 million passengers from all over the world travel through annually,” says Nicole Mullen as she halts before San Francisco: City of the World, one of the museum’s many galleries scattered throughout the airport. “Our goal is to do shows that can delight and engage a vast public audience and can be accessible to a lot of people.” Nicole, the curator in charge of exhibitions, strikes a whimsical figure in a floral-print dress and librarian-chic glasses. She wears a lobster broach on her coat and an octopus bracelet clasped around her wrist.

SFO Museum got its start in 1980 as a way to humanize the airport and showcase the rich culture of the Bay Area, Nicole explains. Today, it’s grown to 25 locations throughout SFO with exhibits ranging from popular culture, design and history to technology, ethnography, folk art, natural history and beyond. It also includes photography galleries and the Aviation Museum and Library. “There’s always something new and compelling to work on,” she says.

No plane ticket? No problem. Your passport to learning doesn’t require a boarding pass. A handful of exhibits are located in publicly accessible pre-security areas, while the ones beyond a checkpoint can be accessed through prior arrangement with SFO Museum.

Eclectic Collections

Back at the San Francisco: City of the World exhibit, a couple of travelers pause to check out memorabilia from 1940s Chinatown nightclubs. Nearby, a mother pauses to rummage around in her bag while her little boy runs circles around the display cases in frog-print boots.

“I’m very proud of this show,” says Nicole, explaining that multiple local historical societies banded together to make it happen. Cases in a Golden Gate-red hold a wealth of items. A wool bathing suit from Sutro Baths, a thick section of steel strands from a cable car, an air vent grill from Alcatraz, a 1950s book titled Don’t Call it Frisco—each artifact a glimpse into this city’s big personality. Nicole points out some battered items salvaged from the 1906 earthquake. “That’s a teapot from the rubble,” she says. “Our photographer on staff, that was passed down from his grandmother.”

Besides other museums, Nicole collaborates with private collectors—and it’s one of her favorite parts of the job. Take Brian Coleman, an antiquarian from Seattle who lives in a colorful Queen Anne painted with sunflowers and griffins. “His whole house is bedecked floor to ceiling in the Victorian era. It’s quite spectacular,” Nicole marvels. Among his many loans to the museum: a pair of Victorian beaded slippers for Stepping Out: Shoes in World Cultures and an ornate nut bowl decorated with tiny silver squirrels for Eclectic Taste: Victorian Silver Plate.

For another exhibition, Metallica guitarist Kirk Hammet lent the museum his collection of classic monster memorabilia. His fiendish frenzy of monster magazines, mummy paint-by-numbers, Dracula lunch boxes, Frankenstein figurines and the prop head of the Creature from the Black Lagoon certainly made a splash in Terminal 2.

Occasionally, Nicole has to get creative to win over a more hesitant collector—on one memorable occasion doing so through his penchant for pastries. “I baked him pumpkin bread,” she smiles. “After that we were fast friends.”

The Curator Herself

As Nicole and I set off in the direction of Harvey Milk Terminal 1, she tells me how she ended up here. All around us, travelers pace by with pillows or headphones wrapped around their necks. A girl’s volleyball team, all in bouncy ponytails and leggings, move as one. And a coterie of Emirates flight attendants glide past in immaculate uniforms of crimson and cream.

“Museums are in my blood,” Nicole tells me. “It was something that I kind of lived and breathed.” In Plymouth, Massachusetts, Nicole’s mother worked as a site supervisor on the Mayflower II, a ship gifted to the United States by the English in the 1950s. At seven, little Nicole helped her out as a historic interpreter. “To spend more time with me, she took me to work with her on weekends,” Nicole explains. “I dressed in period attire as a 17th-century English immigrant.” Her role included talking about life aboard the Mayflower in 1620 and playing cat’s cradle with young visitors. By 14, she’d graduated to a paid position in visitor service.

Later, Nicole admits to rebelling against the business she’d known all her life. “When I went to college, I kind of wanted to get away from museums,” she confesses. It didn’t last.

After a year and a half in jobs she didn’t enjoy, Nicole accepted her fate. Museums were where she was meant to be. “I met so many interesting museum people from such an early age and have always been around them,” she explains. “Armed with an undergraduate degree in cultural anthropology, I applied for a job at the Phoebe A. Hearst Museum of Anthropology at UC Berkeley as the education specialist—and the rest is history!”

Nicole landed a position at SFO Museum 15 years ago—and more than 75 curated shows later, she’s going strong.

Past Favorites

One of Nicole’s favorite exhibitions, From Pineapple to Piña: A Philippine Textile Treasure, explored the weaving of pineapple leaf fibers into lacey handkerchiefs, blouses and even shawls in the late 18th and 19th centuries. “These fibers are knotted by hand,” Nicole says in wonderment.

After talking about a show that featured a flurry of leotards from the San Francisco Ballet, Nicole pivots to the time they partnered with the California Academy of Sciences on a natural history exhibit. That show required SFO Museum team to wheel in a number of jarred specimens. “That was pretty wild,” she laughs. “We had a 19th-century giant squid in ethanol, in this antique jar.” They transported it in a van designed to carry hazardous material.

Another tricky task involved bringing in a car for an Art Deco-themed show. “That had to come in at night,” Nicole recalls. “All the engine oil had to be drained. It had to be pushed from the curb … That was quite a feat!”

The Sky’s the Limit

At last, we arrive at our intended destination—Rosie the Riveter: Womanpower in Wartime. “Our program is evolving with the airport,” Nicole tells me. “When they redid Harvey Milk Terminal 1, we gained two new gallery spaces.” This show, orchestrated by Nicole’s fellow curator Daniel Calderon, is a tribute to grit and girl power during World War II. Its cases are stocked with heavy-duty coveralls, rivet guns and welding helmets, plus motivational posters proclaiming slogans like “Women: There’s work to be done and a war to be won” and “Do the job he left behind.” Spirited swing music spills from the speakers.

The walls and ceiling of this space have not been painted your typical “gallery white.” Instead, they’re pitch black. When we step inside, it feels like the gallery has swallowed us up—but in a good way. “People are intrigued by going into this dark gallery space,” describes Nicole of the immersive experience. “They can really step out of the airport for a minute.”

It’s to be expected from an exhibition located in the newly redeveloped terminal. This award-winning concourse is a testament to innovation, featuring rooms for yoga and meditation. It also has a soundproof Sensory Room for neurodivergent travelers with a soothing area stocked with squishy pillows and a mockup of an airplane cabin with two rows of seats for travelers to prepare for the experience of flying.

It goes to show that SFO Museum has evolved as the airport does. Nicole spotlights the (pre-security) Aviation Museum and Library, which opened along with the International Terminal in 2000. Its design replicates the airport’s original 1930s passenger lobby and currently features airline travel posters, Virgin America ephemera and century-old propellers.

Nicole mentions one more recent change. A few years back, the museum’s team of 35 gained a new site to work their behind-the-scenes magic. “We do it all here,” she says. “We have a state-of-the-art storage facility, a conservation lab, we have a wonderful design lab where our designer lays everything out. We have an in-house wood shop and a welding shop.” There’s even a room for mannequin assembly. It’s no wonder SFO Museum is the only airport-located museum accredited by the American Alliance of Museums.

Our tour ends in front of Everyday Elegance in Chinese Ceramics, one of the pre-security exhibit spaces. From one of the cases, a “guardian lion” statue watches steadfastly over TSA. “Whether it is a plastic toy telephone or Chinese jade from the Asian Art Museum, every object is treated as a precious object,” the curator says. “Our registration department handles everything with gloves.”

The guest experience is just as valuable. “We have the ability to reach people who maybe wouldn’t purchase a ticket and go see this particular museum exhibition,” Nicole reflects. “They happen to stumble upon it here and they’re fascinated by it, or something moves them or there’s a nostalgia factor that hits home … It’s very rewarding to reach that type of audience.” Nearby, a family of eight gives a young man a heartfelt sendoff, waving fervently as they stand beside a display of glazed pottery.

find your gate – sfomuseum.org