My maternal grandmother died when my mother was only thirteen months old. Being the youngest of fourteen children, my mom was raised by her older siblings with her sister Sylvia becoming very much a surrogate mother to her. Aunt Sylvia, or Aunt Sisi as we all called her, was seventeen years older than my mother. I can't imagine life was easy for my Aunt Sisi in 1922, living on a ranch with so many siblings to care for after losing her mother and raising her baby sister. But I do know she was one of the toughest women I ever met. She was also very much like a grandmother to us kids. These are just a few stories of my Aunt Sisi and her husband, my Uncle Joe.
Joe Silva and Sylvia Walters wedding picture.
When my Aunt Sisi and Uncle Joe first married, they lived in a converted chicken coop on my grandfather's ranch. I'm sure this was at least partly so Aunt Sisi could continue to care for my mother and the other siblings. I'm also sure the converted chicken coop was not some shabby chic, hipster pad like you see on HGTV today. From what I recall from Sisi, it was more little house on the prairie converted chicken coop reality. My Uncle Joe was the butcher in the town of Cayucos, just a few miles south of the ranch, on Hwy 1. Eventually, Sisi would go to work north of the ranch in the town of San Simeon at Hearst Castle as one of Mr. Hearst's cooks. I still have a boar hair hairbrush that the Hearst family gave her one Christmas. Later on, Sisi and Joe would move into an old store front in Cayucos where they would live for many years. This is the home that I remember so well.
Even though, when my parents married, they moved to Los Angeles, Cayucos was always home for them and later for us girls. Its where our aunts, uncles, cousins and long-time family friends lived and some still live. It is where our family, including my parents and sister are buried. Growing up, we made the trip home to Cayucos at least eight times a year, I would bet. We almost always traveled at night, usually leaving Friday after school. The car would be packed and ready to go once we ran in the door. Our mother would make two beds for Kelly and I in the backseat, one on the seat and one on the floor. This was long before seatbelts were a must. There was always a picnic hamper full of food, snacks and treats for us girls and the trunk was always crammed full of food and small gifts for my mothers sisters. The four hour drive never seemed that long. Kelly and I would play games from the backseat; I Spy, License Plate ABCs, I One It, Buzz, or our favorite, convincing the big trucks to honk. Finally, when the sun had set and it was too dark to see much outside, we would lay on the backseat together and watch the dark, shadowy hills go by, describing to one another what we saw. Some hills looked like dinosaurs or sleeping giants or giant sea turtles. Our imaginations were pretty vivid.
Eventually, we would feel the car slow down preparing to make the turn off Hwy 1 into Cayucos. Kelly and I would bolt upright, each rolling down the backseat crank windows as fast as we could. I can still smell the wonderful ocean air of home and hear the waves crashing as we headed into town. It would be 9:00 PM and there wouldn't be a soul in sight, all the buildings dark and closed hours earlier. Pretty soon, we would slowly cross over the little bridge downtown and there, just a few minutes later, would be Aunt Sisi's house. My mother would have barely put the car in park before Kel and I were out of the backseat running to Sisi's door. We never had to knock because Sisi was always there at the open door, waiting for us to come home.
My Uncle Joe was always already in bed asleep as he rose with the chickens and went to bed with them as well. But Sisi and our mother would stay up talking and drinking coffee for hours. Of course, Kelly and I would have to go to bed after a snack but we didn't mind at all. Aunt Sisi had a huge closet in her bedroom. It was tucked away under the stairway that led to the top floor of their building. This closet had no windows but it did have a big dresser and all of Sisi's dresses and formal gowns and shoes along with an amazing couch that folded out flat into a double bed for us girls. Sisi always had the couch/bed made up and ready for us when we arrived. We loved sleeping in the big closet. It was like our own secret fort.
Early in the morning, before most of the world was even awake, Uncle Joe would sneak into the big closet and start chucking us under our noses. He was the town mechanic along with being the town Fire Chief so we always recognized the smell of oil on his hands. No matter how much he washed those hands, they smelled of oil just like the Cayucos Garage and we loved it. Nose chucking from Uncle Joe always had us out of bed and following him to the kitchen, where we knew he was going to share coffee and bear claws with us. At least until Sisi and our mother got up and started the real breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast. Always, bacon, eggs and toast.
Fire Chief , Joe Silva, second from the left. Cayucos Garage is in the background.
Some of my fondest memories are riding in the fire truck with our Uncle Joe, blowing the horn and siren and steering from his lap. He would take us down the country road to our Aunt Meta's, where we would spend days on end running every square inch of that ranch. Uncle Joe also allowed us to come into the Garage anytime we wanted to watch him work on a car or truck. He never got angry or bothered by us. He was really like a grandfather to us in many ways. He thought we were wonderful and we thought the same of him. There was also an older man that Uncle Joe allowed to live in a little room in the Garage. Kelly and I would fish off the pier with poles we rented from Al's. Actually, we never really rented them because Mr. Bettencourt would never let us pay, God bless him. We would take whatever fish we caught back to the man living in the Garage. I don't know if I ever really knew his name but I always liked taking him fish. No matter how small they were, he would act impressed by their size.
By the 1960's, Aunt Sisi was working across the street from her house at Pereira's. It had a lunch counter where we would go to sit and order hamburgers and milkshakes made by hand by Bobby and Sisi. On the back wall, there were cubbies where the daily newspaper was placed for each local subscriber. Half the fun of eating at the counter at Pereira's was watching the ranchers come in for their paper and then listen to them gab at the counter. It never hurt that we were Nino's kids either, a name given to my mother as a child. Being Nino's kids usually got us nickels and dimes to be spent on candy later in the day at Ambrosias where our Aunt Ruth worked, just a few doors down.
On Sisi's days off, she would walk us across the street from her house for a picnic on the beach. We always had the same thing. Grilled hotdogs and potato salad. Our mother and Sisi would make the potato salad the night before and then pack everything including a disposable grill into our parents picnic basket the next day. We would walk over to the beach where Kelly and I would play in the water or on the swings for hours as our mother and her sisters and friends would visit nearby. Eventually, Sisi would get the grill going and we'd all be eating our sandy hotdogs. It was wonderful and I looked forward to it every time. Once lunch was over and cleaned up, one of the aunts or friends would hand us money to go get ice cream cones at Chucks and off we'd go.
Aunt Sisi and Uncle Joe really were like grandparents to me growing up. When I was 7 months pregnant with our first child, Bob was transferred to San Luis Obispo so we were able to move to Cayucos. Being near Sisi and Joe and the rest of my extended family was a dream come true for me. It was like going home.
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