Day 1
My first day in 1933 was far more difficult than I expected. It’s hard to understand how we’ve spread out, unless you go to a time when we weren’t that way. Remember, virtually all the pictures you see of the past showing the people, the fashions and the buildings of civilization were taken in the cities, towns and villages where people gathered. “The country” wasn’t in vogue through most of our history, that’s a fairly recent thing. So, when I found myself in 1933, I was shocked at how small the areas of human habitation were. The country was a big place, and again, I’d left my car in 2008.
Fortunately, I’d taken to wearing sturdier shoes than the 2008 knowledge worker usually wore, not because I knew I’d be thrust into a veritable wilderness without warning at some point, but because I tried to wear clothes that wouldn’t look completely out of place. The last thing I wanted to do was find myself in 1933 wearing a pair of running shorts, Michael Jordan t-shirt and Nikes. So, it was usually chinos, a plain shirt and heavier shoes. That turned out to be a really, really good idea.
It was pretty clearly morning when I appeared in in the scrub that would become Mira Mesa in the early summer of 1933, so with go-bag in hand, I set off for what would become Kearny Mesa, figuring I could “dead reckon” my way to San Diego, going from one landmark I knew was here in 1933 to the next. First stop, Montgomery Field.
What I didn’t know at the time, was that there was no Montgomery Field in 1933. A lot of my life (lives) have revolved around aviation. My Navy days in my second run through the early middle part of my life had me in the air a lot, and in my first trip through the 80s and 90s, I flew recreationally. If fact, I still hold a Single Engine Land Pilot’s License, though I’d be crazy to fly until I become completely capable of staving off a time shift. Anyway, I had assumed that with San Diego’s great aviation tradition, Montgomery Field existed in 1933. I was wrong.
I was also uninformed about what DID exist in the area in 1933. As I headed south-southwest toward what would become Kearny Mesa, I came out of the low spot in the scrub that I’d appered in, and began to see a HUGE building ahead of me. It was a long, long way off, but was clearly immense. I had absolutely no idea what this building was, until about 20 minutes later, when a massive shape started to emerge from it. It was an airship hanger. My military aviation memory then kicked in, and I realized that I was looking at Miramar Naval Air Station, home to the Navy’s airship program. Obviously, the program didn’t exist in the late 20th and early 21st centuries, but here, now, in all it’s gigantic glory was an airship and its hangar. It was breathtaking.
Since the airship program was on the cutting edge of military aviation at the time, I decided to take a very circuitous route and avoid the area altogether. I really didn’t have a good answer to why I was out here, slightly strangely dressed with a couple pieces of futuristic technology in my bag. Getting to my initial destination, which I decided would be Coronado, took a bit longer, but the extra steps were worth not having to answer questions.
More tomorrow.
