556 East 4th Street

I told you to “stay tuned”…BIG decisions were in the making.

This is the letter that I wrote to the owner of the Chico house that I made an offer to buy…

Seems to have done the trick…as of June 13th – I’m home…again.

Chico has always had an emotional pull on me.

In 1980, I was denied admission to Cal Poly and I was accepted to Chico State. Chico what? Never heard of it. My dad dragged me kicking and screaming to visit this far flung place and…as I walked onto campus that cool spring morning…I knew I was home. I was however, too much of a bratty teenager at the time to let my dad know, but I knew.

Fast forward to graduation and my teacher’s credential – I sadly had to leave as there were NO jobs in the north valley. So I took a job four long hours away and with a big hole in my heart, I packed up and moved away (to Salinas of all places)…determined that some day…I’d be back.

Voila! Two years later, Chico Unified was hiring and I GOT THE JOB!!! I was back home and I was NEVER going to leave. My dream had come true.

Except…I moved back on the 4th of July, 1985. A friend from college was in town so we met up at The Bear. (Of course it was The Bear!) His roommate, Glen. was also there…Glen and I started dating. (There’s a funny story there, but I’ll save that for another day.) Glen lived in the Bay Area so it was a long distance relationship; a year later, he took a job in Orange County. I knew that either I left Chico to be with him…or we were through. And I didn’t want to be through. Two years later, we were married.

Glen and I always dreamed of returning to Chico. Over the years, we’ve stayed connected to the university in multiple ways. We met up with college friends for celebratory reunions.

We brought our kids to Chico for vacations. I have photos of them sitting on the Chico State brick wall in front of Kendall. They both had their bicycles with them and helmets on their heads – big smiles!

As a high school student, our son came to baseball camp a couple times and that just gave us an excuse to come back, too.

I’ve visited with friends for a girls weekend away and recently, my daughter and I came for a “mom-daughter” trip.

Any excuse was the only excuse we needed to visit!

While we’d hoped to coerce our kids to attend Chico State by indoctrinating them with visits, it wasn’t until our son bombed out of Oregon that he knew his true path was through Chico! After a brief break from college, he came to Chico and really hit his stride.  It was such a proud time for us all. 

I still get to Chico regularly, as I’m on the University Foundation Board which brings me to town for meetings multiple times a year and Glen sat on the College of Business Advisory Board for years. If one of us had to be here, we both came! Any excuse!

For the last five years, we’ve toyed with the idea of buying a second home in Chico. Glen said that after I’d moved for his career several times, it was my turn to pick where we would land. Since we both found ourselves needing to be in town for meetings, it started to feel like it was just our destiny to be back – it had been my home, my happy place, and my dream for decades. 

Glen always said…”Everything good in life started at Chico” and it had been our dream to be back there together.. A year ago, I did some serious house hunting, but something kept us from pulling the trigger. 

Here’s where the saying…things happen for a reason comes into play. 

Glen had been dealing with side effects of cancer treatment for years. About the time that I started looking for a second home in Chico, his health took a turn and last September, he passed away. What I didn’t say earlier, is that a year earlier in 2024, our son, our Chico grad, suddenly passed away. So coming back to Chico where the two of them spent such special times, means even more to me now. 

Since 1980, whenever I drive into town, whether from LA in the 80s or from the Bay…driving through the rice paddies and the almond orchards or past the golden rolling foothills dotted with rock walls – I feel a calm come over me. The air feels different. My breathing slows. My heart slows and I get emotional upon my arrival…every time. 

And now, I’m truly meant to be back. This is my time. My place to heal. My place to grieve and my place to find my joy again.

I’m home. 556 East 4th Street feels like home.