Mom's Jewelry

 Mom loved rings.  She was obsessed with opals, and since the opal is the October birthstone, she always wore at least one, and usually more.  Her favorite local jeweler operated Australian Imports out of a little house in City Heights on Fairmount Avenue.  After Dad passed away in 1971, Mom started taking us kids with her to Australian Imports.  The owner would call her to let her know that he had a new shipment of opals, and that he was holding some of the best ones for her to look at.  We would get in the blue Volvo station wagon and head up to El Cajon Blvd, which had at one time been the major thoroughfare from east to west.  It had been an important business district prior to the construction of malls, which destroyed the old-fashioned ways to shop and resulted in the current blight that is El Cajon Blvd today. 

A drive east on El Cajon Blvd in the 60s and 70s was visually interesting for a kid. First, we drove past Mom's beloved Dr Hunt's office and Hillside Hospital. Then there was the Lafeyette Hotel and Red Fox Restaurant and Bar.  As we continued east towards Fairmount Avenue, we passed by Bekins Moving Company with its huge moving trucks parked everywhere,  San Diego Glass and Paint store, ABC Pianos, and Lewis Colonial Mortuary. It seemed as though there were billboards on every block, most of them advertising the toughness of Marlborough reds or the Koolness of smoking menthols. There were lots of liquor stores and corner bars and gas stations.  All these establishments had vintage neon signs atop their buildings. There were also many fancy furniture stores, banks, stamp redemption centers, and grocery stores. El Cajon Blvd had many iconic restaurants.  I remember the Bob's Big Boy, with the big plastic statue of a fat goofy-looking kid that stood out front.  There was Alfie's Fish N Chips, Bit Of Sweden Smorgasbord (where we all got thrown out for stealing food),  Rudfords Diner, and our favorite, the A & W Root Beer Drive In.

When we got to the Pearson Ford car dealership, we kids would always sing their familiar jingle, "See Pearson Ford we stand alone at Fairmount, and El Cajon!" In the 70s, the dealership had a real-sized plastic pinto horse, rearing up on its hind legs like my familiar Breyer Horse Stallion toys at home. Oh how I wished I could have that huge Ford Pinto horse to put in our front yard!

When we saw the horse, we knew it was time to turn right and head south towards the jewelry store.  Just south of El Cajon Blvd, we drove past houses that were small and old but not yet rundown.  Near the corner of Fairmount and Landis was a plain little house with a big sign that said, "Australian Imports." Mom's happy place.

The tiny living room had been remodeled into a showroom, with a locking glass display case filled with pretty rings, necklaces, and earrings.  When the owner saw us coming, he stepped around the counter and ushered us in with a friendly grin.  We kids sat on the chairs while the owner brought out special stones for Mom to peruse.  

Opals come in many varieties, as I would learn during my many visits to the store.  There were Australian and Mexican stones. The colors varied as well. Mom preferred the white stones that had glints of fire deep inside.  I preferred the dark bluish black stones that had streaks of red showing through.  Mom would select a pretty stone and have the jeweler size her finger.  Then she would select the ring setting and put down a deposit.  The jeweler would call her when the ring was ready to pick up.  

Mom had many opal rings and wore them all.  I don't know what happened to all of her rings, but I do have this one:

                              Set with two tiny rubies, the opal has a big crack in the center.

  One day, after she finished her order, she called me up to the counter to select a stone for myself. I picked a pretty dark stone with lots of colors, and  she had it set into a ring to celebrate my 3rd anniversary of taking piano lessons.   

One day in September 1972, a year after Dad passed away, Mom called me into the living room and had me pose with all of her rings on my fingers.  

Sept 28, 1972, Mom had me pose with all her rings.  There was one onyx amongst the opals

Mom had an old ring that she wore constantly that did not contain any stones.  It was gold, and had some sort of rectangular design that looked like a very old high school class ring.  She had another class ring that she gave to me in the late 70s.  It was obtained under questionable circumstances. Sometime in 1979, Skippy came around asking for money for a bottle of Thunderbird and some Camel cigarettes.  He pulled the ring out of his pocket and Mom gave him $10 for it.  I always wondered whose ring it was and how it got from the owner's hand to Skippy's pocket. Given Skippy's long history of stealing everything he could get his hands on, it wouldn't surprise me if he got it from a home burglary.  But he could have also traded some drugs for it or won it in a card game.   The ring was buried beneath tarnished old necklaces in a box that I haven't even thought about for over 30 years.  Now that I have found it again, I am going to try to get it back to its original owner.  Here it is:

Davis Senior High School, Class of 1975.  The high school is located in Davis, California. There is a blue Devil mascot on the side.  There are initials inside, which should help me narrow it down a bit.

Mom had lots of pretty rings, and wearing them gave her much pleasure.   Opals, come to think of it, are a lot like Mom.  They are fragile stones that crack under stress.  They also have a fiery interior that reveals itself if you get close enough to see it. That's Mom. And that's why when I see an opal, I always think of her and the jewelry collection that kept her happy during her final 15 years of life on Eagle Street.