I enjoyed reading Darold Fredricks' history column in the Feb. 4 edition of the Daily Journal. It reminded me of a story that my grandmother, Della Clifford, (1902-1988) often told about the day that the Peninsula Hotel burned down. She said that they walked up from their house on North Humboldt Street, pushing a baby carriage, and watched the fire take its toll, until it was time for lunch, when they went back home to eat. Then they walked up once more and watched until dinner time.
Those were much simpler times, and people had time to spend a day watching a landmark burn to the ground. I'm sure there are very few residents still alive who actually saw the event in person.