The California drought has focused our attention on the importance of water here. In my dad’s family, drilling for water was one of the first things they did. When grandfather moved to San Jose, he planned acres of nut trees, motivating well-digging. My day, as soon has he was old enough, helped with the maintenance. I remember photographs of their giant water pump, motor, and feeder pipes.

When my family moved to San Carlos in 1941, dad drilled his own backyard well. It helped irrigate their victory garden, and later, lawns.   I remember the giant post-hold digger and the hole in the shed roof that went with it. I could hear from my bedroom the well motor cycling on.

In Berkeley in the 60’s I was surprised to discover a backyard well behind the Victorian house I was managing. Probably every big house of that vintage had one. Hiding under some big plywood sheets, it was several feet in diameter and brick-lined. I had the water tested, and it was still potable. You could just dip your bucket in. I decided not to.

I can only imagine what it must feel like to live in the Central Valley and have the well that is your only water supply run dry. The house becomes unlivable and un-saleable.

6/18/15