
Upland is a mythical place from my childhood, where many of my formative ideas and memories and experiences were formed.
My dad’s mom and stepdad lived there, Grandma Vi and Grandpa John, on Alta Ave, just up the street from Hanover’s Ranch Market, which my cousin and I affectionately called Hanover’s Roach Ranch even as we stood in the coolness of the market eating freshly made corn tortillas.
Grandpa John, by the time I knew him, was no longer a grocer nor proprietor of a Speedy Mart market but instead drove a Tom’s Candy truck and delivered wholesale candy to local stores.
Grandma Vi was a Sunday school teacher at the First United Methodist Church of Upland and school librarian for my cousin Erica’s Foothill Knolls Elementary School.
One year older than me, Erica was like a big sister. She lived with our grandparents. My dad would drive me from his home in Alta Loma for weekend visits Grandma Vi, Grandpa John, and Erica. Grandma Vi would take us to the Upland Library for the summer reading program, or to Montclair Plaza for shopping. Friday nights were for Roller City.
Flash forward decades to my present life.
Through a series of unrelated events, Inlandia attracts a book designer, publications employee, and publications volunteer, all from Upland. Simultaneously, our office at the Garcia Center for the Arts in San Bernardino, we learn, is undergoing a transformation and our ability to use the space for outreach is ending, thus we need a new outreach space. One day, I meet my Upland colleagues for coffee downtown and decide to walk around and see if there are any office spaces available, since that seems like a logical solution, but would there be? And if so, could we afford it?
In fact, yes, there is, and yes, we can.
And in a bit of serendipity, the alley that runs between our building and the next connects with the Methodist church where I spent so much time as a child, day dreaming and playing on the piano alone in Grandma Vi’s classroom (she never made me attend the services) and doing Easter egg hunts and hanging with my cousin Erica and her friends who smoked clove cigarettes and exuded glamour at one year older than me—which was a lifetime of experiences when you’re twelve.
And up the block is the Upland library, where Grandma Vi took us for the summer reading program. My childhood library memories are of the Upland library. Erica and I would check out stacks of books then go back for our recognition and stickers.
So Upland was home to me then. Feels like home. Is home. Is now Inlandia’s home.