My 20th High School Reunion
I spent Saturday night at my 20th high school reunion at Crystal Springs and Uplands School in Hillsborough.
My 3 short years at Crystal Springs (oddly enough, I didn't even go there for high school- I instead went to my local public school, San Mateo High) gave me a keystone piece of the academic and social foundation that I rely on to this day. With the exception of my 3 pampered years in the rarified air of Crystal Springs, I spent all of my academic career in public schools.
For me, Crystal Springs was a magical place. When my parents unexpectedly took me there for an interview back in 1980 (the day of the hostages were released from Iran and Reagan's inauguration), I felt like somebody had handed me Willy Wonka's golden ticket. I blossomed and thrived at Crystal Springs. In recent years, I've returned there on a number of occasions to try to discover what exactly that magic was and if there's any way for me to bring some of that magic forward into my current existence.
Part of the magic of Crystal Springs is most definitely the place itself. Since 1956, Crystal Springs School has been situated in the lovely, affluent town of Hillsborough. At its heart and center lies the crown jewel: a gorgeous, 39 room beaux-art mansion (pictured above).
The mansion, called Uplands, was completed in 1917 for Charles Templeton Crocker (grandson of the railroad tycoon Charles Crocker), as a wedding present for his bride, C & H sugar heiress Helene Irwin. In 1917, Uplands contained 35,000 square feet of living space, a 10,000 square foot basement, 12 bedrooms and 12 baths. It also featured marbled fireplaces, wood-paneled ceilings, a large wine cellar, elevator, dumbwaiter, four staircases and mezzanine level quarters for servants. What a great wedding present! I want to be a sugar heiress!
For ten years the Crockers entertained lavishly several weekends of every month at their "country home," throwing gala parties for San Francisco society. There's definitely a bon vivant sort of glamor that still remains at Crystal Springs. I felt it every day that I attended school there, and I feel it still when I walk into the mansion.
Perhaps predictably, the marriage of the sugar heiress and the railroad-fortune-inheritor didn't last. For a period of time, Uplands fell into disrepair. Before the school bought the mansion and 10 acres of surrounding property back in the 50s, the mansion was in grave danger of being torn down. So it's got that phoenix-like quality about it as well.
Speaking of delapidated mansions, when I go back to Crystal Springs I can't help but think of the horrific Carolands Mansion murder in 1985.
While we were still both teenagers, a girl who I knew and admired in the class above me at Crystal Springs, Jeanine Grinsell, was savagely beaten, stabbed, sexually assaulted and left for dead in a deserted ravine by the Carolands Mansion security guard, David Allen Raley. Another girl who I got to know after that tragic winter day, Laurie McKenna, survived the ordeal.
I was never quite the same after Jeanine's murder. David Allen Raley killed something in me the day that he ruthlessly took her life. I frequently wonder when that monster will finally be executed, even though I realize that it's not helpful or healthy for me to dwell on it. Jeanine's brutal death instilled in me a deep anger and also a deep terror that affects me still.
Based on some articles published in last fall after David Allen Raley's final appeals were denied, I get the sense that Laurie McKenna (Vanlandingham) has a better handle on the anger/fear duo than I do, which is comforting. God bless her for moving past it. Her strength shines through the reporters' words and I respect her immensely. That said, even though Laurie is zen about it, it would be hard if not impossible for me to forgive David Allen Raley. I wonder whether the Dalai Lama himself could get me through that one.
Recently, the U.S. Supreme Court upheld the monster's death sentence, so he should be one of the first in line when California resumes its executions. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy.
It's all a bit like the shining triumph of Big Brown's exilirating Kentucky Derby win Saturday, followed closely by the shadow of Eight Belles' own moment of glory and then her shocking, untimely death.
The magic and the murder- two contrasting and intertwined pieces of my past that continue to haunt, fascinate and mystify me.



