.The Dance of History Continues in St. James Park

The Tri-Party Agreement is unanimous and people are already dancing in St. James Park. The geese may have to move out of the way.

Just a few weeks ago, I was thrilled to learn music promoters, event organizers and culturally literate people had reached a milestone when the San Jose City Council approved a recommendation to adopt the “Tri-Party Agreement,” paving the way for Levitt Pavilion San Jose, a new permanent outdoor concert stage in St. James Park, perhaps ten years in the making, and finally once and for all cementing a partnership between the City of San Jose, Friends of Levitt Pavilion San Jose and the national Levitt Foundation.

This approval allows for a diverse, inclusive, community-driven live music venue at the northeast corner of St. James Park, at Third and St James, right where an old senior center once sat for decades. It’s not exactly the Trilateral Commission of conspiracy lore, but it’s all we got.

“This is a huge moment for San Jose,” said Fil Maresca, representative of Friends of Levitt Pavilion San Jose, and who once worked at the nearby Oasis nightclub nearly 40 years ago.

The next steps include finalizing design plans, securing additional funding and beginning construction, but once completed, the pavilion will be part of a nationwide network of Levitt venues. The whole shooting match is part of the city’s long, drawn-out, multimillion-dollar quest to transform the historic park into something usable.

Everyone has an opinion about St. James Park. The complete history is far outside the scope of this column, but as I recently wandered through the park, avoiding flocks of geese in the process, I couldn’t get my mind away from the old senior center complex that was torn down in 2010.

Fifteen years ago, when the senior center was on the chopping block, Scott Herhold of the Mercury News led his story with the following:

“In the northeast corner of St. James Park, across the street from the San Jose Athletic Club and next to a playground, huddles a collection of red-roofed buildings that house a vibrant cultural haven for the city’s seniors.”

He was right. It was a vibrant place. I’m glad he used that word.

Even if the buildings were “held together with staples and chewing gum” as then-councilmember Sam Liccardo said, the structures retained a degree of faded charm, even if they weren’t up to code and were only getting more precarious every year. When the city relocated the gentry to the shiny new Roosevelt Senior Center, people said they missed the “rumpled familiarity” of the old St. James Park facility.

Even earlier, though, back in 1985, there was an entire section in the Merc for people 50 years or older, replete with ads and calendar listings for senior events. The St. James Senior Center featured tai chi classes, porcelain doll making and square dancing among its offerings. The seniors staged a Harvest Faire, a Valentine’s Dance, a Christmas Dinner and other annual events. Almost everything seemed to involve dancing. The old-timers just loved to cut a rug.

My journey didn’t stop there. As I wandered around the grass, merging the spatial with the temporal, I went back even further. In 1975, the center had a monthly newsletter, “Senior Info,” that went to 4,800 members. There were bus trips to opera events in San Francisco and even baseball games. 

For whatever reason, the geese then began to gather across Second Street in the other half of the park. They seemed more content over there than anywhere near the future Levitt Pavilion.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not arguing to bring back the senior center. The Levitt Pavilion is one of the best ideas ever to emerge around here. No rational adult would be against it.

But the senior center buildings are part of this park’s story. As the grand sweep of history continues to tear stuff down and replace it with something else 30 years later, history becomes a way to dance through the decades.

Now there will be even more music, for all ages, young and old, thanks to the Levitt Pavilion. I’m not sure what will become of the geese, but I’m sure the dancing will continue.