A Sign on Easter

Brilliant rays of light gleamed off the ocean and sand, but they were quickly shrouded in the clouds of an approaching storm.  In the space of a minute, the morning was flooded briefly with intensely bright sunlight, as if beamed straight from heaven.  Could have been a sign from God, but maybe that was too obvious.  Something more coincidental happened just then.  

I was walking on Cannery Row early this Easter morning.  Assuming you've read novels by John Steinbeck, you know that this very street was the heart of a busy industry of canning, shipping, packing and supply companies, all intent on canning sardines.  Now there are tourist shops and, at the far west end of the street, the Monterey Bay Aquarium.  Just east of Prescott where it Ts into the The Row, lies a vacant lot that's surrounded by chain link fence and littered with broken bottles and weeds.  On the sidewalk outside the fence, in the dust and debris was, literally, a sign, right at my feet.

The canneries are all gone, but they used to stand along what was then called Ocean View Boulevard.  The buildings that housed them for about 40 years were stinky, noisy and dank.  Older local residents remember the cannery days very well and say, "It stunk to high heaven."  But they remember being called to work by the loud whistle that blew when catches of the silver fish arrived by the tons on fishing boats.  It was hard work and shifts ended when the last fish was cooked and the last can was packed and sealed.

The sardine industry went bust, and one by one the buildings were shuttered and stood vacant.  A few bars and odd concerns remained, but mostly there was rust, boarded windows and cement foundations after fires burned through.  I saw one of the shuttered buildings go up in flames.  The fire raged, lighting up the night like a huge torch.  Arson was suspected, of course, but nothing happened.  What remained was an ugly remnant of former boom times, and people began to look for renewal, an end to the blight.  1984, the Monterey Bay Aquarium opened, and since then The Row has risen phoenix-like from flames, rot and ruin.

Change has occurred slowly.  The sun bursting through storm clouds this morning was instantly symbolic of the renewal and change along the Row.  Today is Easter, a Christian holy day signifying rebirth, the energy of spring, and resurrection.  Coincidentally, there in the sidewalk was a reproduction of Easter brand sardines packing label.  I don't know that I would have made the connection between urban renewal and the resurrection of Christ but for the sign embedded in cement at my feet.  Seeing it, the connection was obvious.  All I needed then was heralding trumpets and angels singing for it to have been truly God sent.