Just heard that elderly and ailing Virginia Weston Blewett passed last night in Stockton. A classy lady, she represents all that is best in that part of the world. She leaves behind a legacy of love and generosity not only in her family, but in her church and her city of birth and life.Being a native of that California city, I remember well the home she was born into on a street which - though a mere ten blocks from the historic downtown area on the far southern edge of the city - was formerly named 'North Street' as a nod to its pre-1900, four-square mile 'Mudville' boundary-keeping. (Before that, it was the North Street Canal -- sounds romantic enough, but actually it's purpose was not idyllic floating on Sunday afternoons but rather flood control.)
Wikipedia describes the 1906 Hurrle-Weston home as the 'White Queen of Stockton'. When this magical and marvelous mansion came on the market more than a decade ago, my niece wanted to purchase it and we accompanied her on a tour. I fell into love...and in lust. It embodied magical old space and artistically seductive opportunities in every way. I mostly remember marveling at the rows of marble in the basement -- Various sizes and shapes from washbasins to roof tiles stored there provided ample resources for any conceivable repair.
With a Walgreens across the street to its right, a Taco Bell on its left, busy and noisy traffic flowing by, it had a good view of some of the decline of 'North Street'. Its saving grace was in becoming a bridal shop. I like to think that Virginia was pleased with the gentility of that fate.
Rest well, Virginia. You are still loved and already missed.
