To tell our story, I must start at the beginning, the very beginning. This tale begins with a young school girl in the late 1800’s, when she planted a small home garden of violets to pay the ferry fees to attend school in the city. Annie Gooch Darbee was from a pre-Gold Rush Bay Area family that had a farm in San Leandro, CA where they fished oyster beds.
I began to read Annie’s letters to her son, Andrew Darbee sitting at my kitchen table looking up from time to time at our peony field, pondering her existence and what she had accomplished. Annie had grand ideas and with each paragraph I read, I felt a deeper kinship to her strength and independence, but mostly to the glimmer of romantic sentiment that filled her hopes and dreams for the property; “a row of little houses … that could sell all sorts of things to stop over travelers… bath houses, places for rest -someone would have a supply of vegetables, someone would have a supply of poultry and eggs… Baked bread, cakes + pies, some of the native fruits & berries made into jams & jellies… I believe some sort of thing like that would be different and popular.”