Petaluma, California, in the North Bay area has had a lot of histories—settled in the 1830s as a Mexican land grant, where native tribes had lived before; supplier of produce and grain to San Francisco when it swelled with gold-seekers heading north; the Egg Capitol of the world for decades in the last century and home to both extensive vineyards and a serious migration north from San Francisco in the past 50 or so years.
Petaluma’s downtown area, kept from overdevelopment by careful planning, is full of iconic buildings of the last half of the 19th century and the first part of the 20th, many of them with renovated and repurposed facades.
If some of these buildings seem a bit familiar as you look, it shouldn’t be too surprising; the city has served as a film location too many times to count, including such well-known films as American Graffiti, Peggy Sue Got Married, Tucker: The Man and his Dreams, and more.
Part of the reason for Petaluma’s large stock of pre-1906 buildings is that unlike surrounding areas—San Francisco included—it sits on bedrock and suffered almost no damage from the huge 1906 earthquake; in fact it became a staging area and refuge for San Francisco rescue and relief efforts.
But, as this picture suggests, time doesn’t stand still in Petaluma—although it may be a little out of sync with the rest of the world.
But neither is the town lost in its past decades; there are plenty of trendy shops and places to eat and drink, some of them in buildings whose original appearance has been significantly altered. There’s even a huge bookstore, Copperfield’s, with new and used books that include original copies of children’s book series from my childhood in the 1950s. It’s not, overall, a place where you quickly run out of things that catch the eye.
And that includes a rather small one: someone, or severalones, has roamed the streets, attaching little yellow chicks to walls and statues, perhaps a tribute to Petaluma’s chicken-and-egg glory days, which is also celebrated on a street mural.
The mural features Lyman Byce, a Canadian immigrant to Petaluma, who in 1879 invented the first practical heated incubator for eggs, setting off the city’s poultry boom.
One of the more imposing edifices of Petaluma’s downtown is this former bank, now occupied by an optical company and serving as a mini-mall for other retailers.
Inside many of the original fittings are preserved, including the original vault which may soon be open to visitors. In one of the rented spaces, I also spotted an unusual industrial-styled desk with an unusual shape.
Wandering a bit further along, we came to this rather dramatic sculpture whose strong forms seem almost out-of-sync with the comic-book grimace on one battler’s face. Below it, a plaque explains the history of a colorful contest—not the only one, by the way: Petaluma also hosts the annual World’s Ugliest Dog Contest.
And two final bits from a wanderer’s habits: more stacked chairs, and keys by the pound, at a price that wasn’t tempting.
