My mother moved to Pinole in 1978 when she was
eight years old. She recalls looking through the
backseat window of the Realtor®’s car with her older
sister as he showed them around the city.
Her mother and stepfather settled the family into a
house on Savage Avenue and began operating a carpet
cleaning business from within its walls. For my mom,
this was the beginning of a childhood she describes as
“just fun.”
Hot summers and cold hose water, roller skating and
knee scraping, a childhood set to the funky upbeat
music of the Bee Gees. She reminisces on the old plaza
off of Pinole Valley Road which used to hold a small
beatdown Lucky’s standing where Trader Joe’s is today,
the family owned dance studio where she took baton
classes, and Fiat Music, which is right where it’s always
been.
Things like the WestCAT bus system were just being
introduced; she describes it as more like a “taxi” than a
bus because it dropped its passengers at destinations
rather than bus stops.
However, there were also things my mom would
describe as not so fun, things like financial issues and
bitter arguments between her parents. Over all though,
her childhood was lively, and she wouldn’t have traded
the safe setting of Pinole for any place else.
In 1988, my mother entered her senior year at Pinole
Valley High School. She remembers this year vividly. It
began with donkey basketball in the gym and watching
the car club drive by in their low riders.
In her junior year my mom started working at a store
called Best Products, which ironically was where Best
Buy is today; this is where she met the man that would
become my father.
In June of the next year the little girl she babysat, Amber
Swartz, would be abducted from her front yard and
never seen again. When my mom thinks back to this
time it is with teary eyes. Suddenly a safe and secluded
Pinole did not feel that safe anymore.
This wasn’t the first
time that tragedy
breached Pinole’s
suburban borders;
years prior Amber’s
father, Bernie, was
killed in a shooting
as an onduty police
officer. The Swartz
family’s devastation
left a mark on
Pinole’s history, but
Olivia and her mom, Crystal
it also brought the
community together to look for Amber and support her
mother. My mom told me this story when I was very
little because we passed by her memorial park on our
walks around the neighborhood. I know Amber’s story
will always be dear to my mom’s heart.
My mom would graduate from Pinole Valley High and
end up leaving Pinole for a while when she moved into
a condo with my dad in 1990, but she would come
back. My parents bought our house in 1995, right off of
Pinole Valley Road and started their family.
The interviewing process allowed me to capture the
stories from my mother I grew up with, as well as
extrapolate more I had never heard before. Her stories
help me understand both her and Pinole better, and
subsequently myself, because I am a product of both.
Seeing the joy light up in her eyes when I asked her
about her childhood, or the tears when I asked about
Amber, remind me my mom was once a kid, too.
I hope that the stories I have shared in this paper help
paint a picture of Pinole not only as a town, but as a
home. I would also hope this encourages others to ask
questions and capture the history of their loved ones
before it is lost to time.
Specially marked anniversary bus from 1977-2017