As I was reading Bill Coate’s article about Chief Thomas, I thought about one little incident I had with the Chief.
I was nine years old in 1950, and my brother and a couple of playmates, Fun and Quong Jung (Hurdy) were in our shop in the back yard, popping firecrackers. Funny and Hurdy were down on the dirt floor of the shop trying to light one when I looked up and standing in the doorway was Chief Thomas. I don’t remember him saying anything, he just held out his hand. Funny and Hurdy gave him their firecrackers they had gotten in San Francisco’s Chinatown, he turned and left.
The Chief lived right behind us across the alley. Don’t know what he did with the firecrackers, maybe gave them to his stepson, who I did have some problems with, but that is another story.