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. My eyes were immediately 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.
I reluctantly chose another spot nearby that provided only an adequate view. Periodically, as I sat there reading I would look up to see if the preferred bench was still in use. Eventually, the young woman and her child who had been sitting there since I arrived stood up to leave.
I quickly 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 twist of fate. I immediately jumped up.
There, carved into the bench where I had just sat down was my name – DEE.
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