Irvington Orchard

For nearly 60 years I’ve lived in the broad open plain between Mission San Jose and Irvington, unofficially designated as Mission Valley, the fertile land west of the coast range that drains Mission Creek into Stivers Lagoon (now Lake Elizabeth). I “migrated’ here from Castro Valley ten’s of thousands of years after mammoths, sloths, and sabertooth tigers roamed this area. My arrival was dozens of centuries after the native Ohlone established a village at the mouth of Niles Canyon, a couple hundred years after the Franciscan missionaries built their adobe mission, and just a few decades after Mission Valley was still rich farmland producing a wide range of crops including wheat, grapes and strawberries. Subdivisions had already begun replacing the farms and orchards when we moved to Fremont in the 1960’s and the remaining buildings of historic Washington College still stood on the bluff overlooking the busy railroad tracks and the village of Irvington. The crumbling ruins of Gallegos Winery, shaken down in the San Francisco earthquake, had been left untouched for more than 50 years. Family farms and tank houses still dotted rural Osgood Road and horses grazed in the fields behind the Horner house along Driscoll Road. The sound of small aircraft could be heard overhead, straining to pull gliders seeking the updrafts of Mission Peak. The wooden brine pickle tanks of the Irvington Packing Company gave off a gentle musty odor on warm summer evenings, and the roar of jet dragsters could be heard on weekends all the way from Baylands Racetrack. Rickety dirt floored fruit stands provided fresh sweet corn, hearty beefsteak tomatoes and juicy strawberries from the surviving fields and the pungent smell of cauliflower signaled the beginning of harvest season. 

A few summer memories of this “valley” boy in a simpler time.