Burlington Betty (Part One of Three)

By craft, I am a writer of fiction. In simple terms, I write novels. Simplified even further, I am a storyteller. I write because I enjoy the work and occasionally people buy my books, which puts food on the table and a roof over my head.

One of the things about writing I like most is the research that goes into a story. I write historic fiction, so my research takes me to some interesting periods and places. I especially love physically visiting historic locations that still exist—not necessarily landmarks and parks, but old places that have managed to remain standing despite progress.

Sometimes, however, visiting old places can be more than just interesting. Take, for example, a place I visited when writing the Johnny Spicer Caper, PACIFICA. The story is set at the 1939 Golden Gate Exposition, which was held on Treasure Island in San Francisco. The story also visits other locales in the Bay Area, including a tiny burg called Port Costa.

Post Costa is located in Contra Costa County east of Oakland on the west bank of the Carquinez Strait. The town—an exaggeration of its size—was founded in 1879 and owes its existence to the Central Pacific Railroad. When planning its transcontinental route, CP ran into a small problem when it got to the Bay Area; namely, the bay. The railroad was supposed to end in San Francisco, but the Carquinez Strait was smack-dab in their way.

The Central Pacific's options were to build a bridge or operate a railroad ferry across the strait. The latter option appealed to them for some reason, so they created Port Costa as the terminus for their ferry, the Solano. Thus, Port Costa consisted mostly of a switching yard, a large warehouse, a hotel, and a few shops to provide goods for the railroad employees who lived and worked in the town. Many of these buildings still exist and date back to the 1880s. Incidentally, the Central Pacific was gobbled up in 1959 by the Southern Pacific Railroad, so for the latter part of its life, Port Costa was owned by the SP.

Today, the switching yard is gone, and the town's main and only drag, Canyon Lake Drive, ends at a gravel and dirt tourist parking lot alongside the water where the network of tracks once stood. Lest my reference to a "tourist parking lot" mislead you, I hasten to add that very few actual tourists park in that lot. Mostly, Port Costa's visitors are members of Bay Area motorcycle clubs who show up on weekends to drink beer and behave badly, which seems to be all right with the locals, because the proceeds from the aforementioned beer help a decaying town survive a little longer.

My main interests in Port Costa were the old railroad warehouse, containing a small café, bar, and antique emporium, and the hotel across the street. The hotel was being restored, but was still more or less in the same dilapidated condition it had been in since the 1930s.

While arranging for my research visit I was told the Burlington Hotel was not yet operational and to get the keys from the bartender in the warehouse bar across the street. He had no qualms about giving me the keys so I could look around and get a feeling for what the hotel was like in the 1930s. Actually, the bartender was quite impressed with meeting an author. I think he might have even read a book once.

In addition to the front door keys, the bartender also gave me a couple of suggestions for my tour, including a visit to Betty, a room that was already restored. A room named Betty? Yup. Local rumor has it that the Burlington was once a bordello and the rooms were named for the ladies who occupied them. Sure, why not?

To Be ContinuedCopyright 2018 Steven O. EitzenAll Rights Reserved

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, locations, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Story, design, and Port Costa images © Steve Eitzen
Header Graphic & HPO Logo © HPO Productions