In Old School Oakland, unforgettable encounters weren’t just limited to the legendary figures that lived in the neighborhood, but also to the eerie, unexplainable things that seemed to happen around us. Our home on Empire Road was haunted. As a child, I couldn’t make sense of the sounds that filled the air each night-loud faucet runs, the taps on hardwood floors, and strange figures that appeared in the dark corners of the room.

I vividly remember the time in 1956 when I walked into our living room to find an old White man sitting in one of our chairs, just staring ahead. He was dressed in a black-and-red Pendleton shirt, and for some reason, I wasn’t afraid. But when my brother and I went to get a little protection and came back, the figure was gone. The feeling in that house stayed with me for years. It wasn’t just the ghostly presences-it was the way the house seemed to be watching, waiting, and making its own presence felt at night. My mother finally ended all of that when she called on Jesus. After that day, there were no more ghostly encounters in our home.

But not all encounters were as eerie as that. Some, like the time I met local figures who influenced the neighborhood, shaped my worldview. There were people like Mr. Ely from the Flying “A” gas station, who kindly let us fix our bikes for free, and later, Big Hank, the tough new owner who made us learn a lesson we’d never forget.