Sicilian Girls, a fictional story by Gina Meyers

 My mom always said that San Francisco is such a beautiful city that you could fall in LOVE anywhere there.

San Francisco the city by the bay was my home. Me, Gina Marie, born June the 8th, 1971 in San Francisco, California at Saint Luke’s Hospital.

I’m third generation Native San Franciscan and proud of it. No matter how much the city landscape changes, it always remains a vibrant, fun, picturesque city.

My grandparents met at a big band dance while my grandpa chig’s naval ship was docked at Pier 39 back in the 1940’s.

It was a night like no other. My Sicilian grandma Rose, who resembled the movie star Rosalind Russell, dressed up in her latest black tight knit dress from I Magnins.

Red lipstick, her jet black hair upturned on the ends, high heels, click clack,  headed with her sister Mary to the short walk from their parents’ flat on the corner of Mason and Lombard.

Mare and Roe what a sight. Both lookers for their day, and as they stopped by their father’s crab stand to have a bottle of coke a cola-- before the dance, they ran into their Uncle Nunzio who was working the six to midnight shift, “up the wharf.”

“Hey Mare”, Rose cried. “Wouldn’t it be neat if they played Artie Shaw’s in the mood and we danced all night with a naval officer?”

“Get your heads outta the clouds Roe,”  Mare said.

Rose ever the dreamer, was dreaming that night of finding her love and sure enough, a tall and lanky fellow by the name of Harold E. Hill, just like the main character in the play, The Music Man asked Rosalind to dance. 

North Beach is home to Saints Peter and Pauls where Joe Dimaggio and his first wife wed. You hear the church bells chime every hour. Weird part is the address: 666 Filbert Street, sounds more like the devil’s calling card then an address for a cathedral. 

Mason and Lombard is one block from the crookest street in the world, also known as  zig zag Hill, and you can hear the cables from the cable cars running all night long. With no air conditioning, the flat was equipped with wooden framed, single paned windows which rattled in the night, followed by fog horns which sounded and resounded like clock work.

Cue in the rain.