In 1995 I inherited an antique store from my grandfather that sat in the heart of Chinatown since the turn of the century.
I didn’t particularly want the store – it was weatherbeaten, moth infested, and dusty. I had only been there a handful of times by the time I inherited it, so I thought it would be a good idea to at least go and see if the store was sellable – or if there was at least something there worth having to remind me of my grandfather.
Inside, it wasn’t as musty as I’d remembered it. Yes, everything was arranged in a haphazard manner, but it was relatively clean and bright inside.
I spent several hours there on that first day, marveling at all the odd an interesting artifacts of other people’s lives and I wondered about the history of each object. At the back of the store, there was a large wooden chest of drawers. And to this day, I’m not sure why, but I felt compelled to pull it away from the wall.
I rocked and see-sawed the chest until it was far enough from the wall that I could see behind it. And I’ll never forget what I saw there.
At about four feet high and three feet wide, the chest of drawers had almost perfectly hidden a small wooden door, old and warped with age. Its red paint had once matched the wall around it, but the paint had peeled and chipped away as the door swelled and shrunk in the wet San Francisco days and nights. But even stranger than the door itself was a small framed note hanging from a rusty nail.
I took the frame off the door and set it on against another wall and stared at it, awestruck. The mystery of its all caps message runs a chill down my spine even now. Even after everything that happened.
Only nineteen words long, it contained enough mystery and intrigue for a book. If the writer of the note had hoped to keep interlopers away, then this note was a failure. It practically begged any intrepid reader to go beyond the red door. There was only one word in that odd note that gave me pause: WHEN. Why did the writer say, “STAY WHEN YOU ARE” instead of, “STAY WHERE YOU ARE”?
I’ll try my best to explain what was on the other side, but what I saw was so uncomfortably odd, maybe it’s best if I just give you a broad outline and then show you what I saw. Essentially, what was on the other side of the red door was – San Francisco. But not the city I knew on my side of the door. It was certainly similar if you stood back and looked at it from a distance, but it was when you got closer and examined some of the details – that’s when things got weird and I almost have to wonder if that version of San Francisco exists in some sort of parallel dimension.
Whenever I went to a store to buy something, I was surprised to note that they gladly accepted my money without a second thought. But when given change, it was always in the form of these odd, ancient-looking and weatherbeaten coins. The writing on them is indecipherable, but the one thing they all have in common is they all feature these odd, hairy men – humanoids, really. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were Bigfoots (Bigfeets?) or maybe yetis.
ADIFFERENT TEXT GOES HERE. Among the submissions, there were buses with glass-domed roofs for panoramic viewing of the city's historic sites, buses that were gardens on wheels, complete with live plants and flowers, and even bowling alleys and buses that looked more like mobile art galleries, showcasing the works of local artists. Each design, no matter how outlandish, were considered by the Transport Authority
Finalists were asked to prepare three-dimensional scale models for consideration by Mr Parker.
Ten firms were given a budget of £1000 to create realistic, 1:10 scale models which were to have working headlights, turn signals, and roll-up destination signage.
Among the submissions, there were buses with glass-domed roofs for panoramic viewing of the city's historic sites, buses that were gardens on wheels, complete with live plants and flowers, and even bowling alleys and buses that looked more like mobile art galleries, showcasing the works of local artists. Each design, no matter how outlandish, were considered by the Transport Authority
The winning design was a pure flight of fancy of early 1960’s impractical design whimsy.
The long snout that protruded 18 feet past the steering wheels and caused awkward steering maneuvers that pushed the nose into unsuspecting cars in adjacent lanes as well as into the sides of buildings. The twin jet engines which powered the bus with direct thrust and were housed in the enormous silver fairing proved to be incredibly dangerous as it roasted several second-floor businesses. Only fourteen were produced in total and they were withdrawn from service after only five years.
