A Beacon of Light

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  • My name is Kevin Carroll. I was born and raised in San Francisco, California, where I attended Saint Ignatius College Preparatory. I am a graduate of both Santa Clara University and the University of San Francisco. Following a 40-year career in teaching and pastoral ministry, I launched a new career as a writer and speaker.

    I live in San José, California. My wife, Kathy, and I have three adult sons and five precious grandchildren. I have much for which to be grateful.

    I can be reached via email at kmc43sjc@gmail.com

    My books are available for purchase online from Amazon. I also have copies of some of these titles at my home for those who would like to buy them directly from me.

    A Moment’s Pause for Gratitude  (2017)

    Cherries in the Summer  (2021)

    The Ambassador of 38th Avenue  (2022)

    Dad: 12 Questions…  (2023)

    A Focus on Gratitude  (2024)

    Through the Lens of Gratitude  (2024)

    A Bahamian Odyssey (2026)

  • A Day at the Zoo

    “Expectations are 
    resentments 
    waiting to happen.”
    Anne Lamott

    I had not visited the San Francisco Zoo in many years… until yesterday. Kathy and I spent a few hours wandering around the venue enjoying a comfortably overcast San Francisco day. I know I visited the zoo with my kids when they were toddlers, but my sons are now 40, 38, and 34, so it’s been a while. 

    The last time I was there, the main entrance to the zoo was on Sloat Boulevard, between 45th and 46th Avenues. Now, the entrance and parking lot are situated where Fleischhacker Pool used to be located. The 6.5 million gallon saltwater pool, which was 1,000 feet long and 150 feet wide, closed in 1971. It was so large, lifeguards patrolled the water in row boats. 

    In my younger days, the children’s play area in the zoo included a real life-size train engine and an authentic San Francisco cable car. One of the highlights of a visit to the zoo at that time was observing the antics of the monkeys on Monkey Island. All of these things are gone now.

    To be honest, I’ve never been a big fan of keeping animals in cages and enclosures in a zoo setting. It just didn’t feel right to me, even in my younger days. I was reminded of this during our visit yesterday.

    The senior discount allowed us to enter the zoo for $24 each. I’m fairly certain it’s the first time I’ve ever paid to enter the San Francisco Zoo, a venue I’ve visited well over sixty times. The zoo began charging admission in May 1970. Prior to that, entry to the zoo was totally free. I wouldn’t have minded the cost we paid yesterday if our experience had been a little different. In many of the animal exhibits and enclosures, no animals could be seen. The Little Puffer Train was not operating, which was a bit surprising considering that yesterday was a Wednesday during the summer and the zoo was filled with hundreds of children, some with parents, others with summer camp programs visiting the zoo for the day.

    Even the Terrace Café, a favorite hangout of the Silver Tree Day Camp staff in the ‘60s and ’70, when the camp day on Wednesday mornings began at the zoo, was closed yesterday. I knew things at the zoo had changed, but yes, I had still had a few expectations, many of which went unfulfilled.

    On that note, I’ll share a few photos I took yesterday, along with a few I doctored-up using AI. Despite the disappointments, the day was a good one. My memories of yesterday’s visit to the San Francisco Zoo will be ones I will cherish for the rest of my life.

  • Silver Tree

    “Look for the 
    extraordinary 
    in the 
    ordinary.” 
    Matthew Kinsley

    It’s been said that our most treasured moments aren’t always the big, important ones. The older I get, the more I realize the truth in this statement. Kathy and I took another walk in The City today. This time, we walked through the Glen Park neighborhood, then through Glen Canyon Park. During the summer months, Silver Tree Day Camp, a program for six through twelve year old kids from throughout The City, utilizes the facilities and recreation space behind the Glen Park Recreation Center. The program was in full stride when we visited the camp yesterday afternoon.

    I began attending Silver Tree as a camper when I was six years old in 1960. When, at the age of thirteen, I aged-out of the camp in 1967, I secured a position at the camp as a junior counselor. My first two years as a JC were volunteer. I began getting a paycheck for my work there in the summer of 1969. It was the summer before my sophomore year of high school. 

    I worked at Silver Tree in the summers of 1967, 1968, 1969, and 1970. In what would have been my final summer, 1971, I had the opportunity to work in Jamaica for several weeks, so I volunteered at the camp for the last couple of weeks of August that summer. 

    In my twelve years at Silver Tree, I accumulated countless memories. Fortunately, most of them were good. I was influenced by some amazing adult counselors, as well as an eclectic group of junior counselors from various high schools in San Francisco. I’m still in contact with several of them today.

    Working as a JC enabled me to develop some excellent life skills: leadership, teamwork, punctuality, accountability, patience, empathy, and humility, to name a few. Under the mentorship of two amazing camp directors, Don Ybaretta and Rich Baptista, I developed a strong sense of self-confidence. I felt appreciated and respected by these men, as well as by a number of counselors with whom I worked directly. 

    I’m not aware of any academic program which could have taught me such valuable life lessons and given me such a a positive sense of self.

    I didn’t realize it at the time, but my work at Silver Tree Day Camp was preparing me for opportunities that would be presented to me in future years: teaching a sixth-grade religious studies class at Our Lady of Mercy Parish in Daly City during my senior year of high school; supervising resident students at Bellarmine College Prep in San José; and teaching at a catholic high school in the Bahamas, a job which would lead to a 40-year career in education. As I’ve said so many times before, I didn’t have a clear career plan for myself, but God certainly did. That job at Silver Tree was instrumental in my career development.    

    Visiting the camp yesterday, and having the opportunity to share so many wonderful memories of my Silver Tree experience with Kathy and with a number of current camp employees, filled me with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. The smiles on the faces of the campers and staff, and the extraordinary vibe which permeated the camp environment, assured me that all continues to be well at Silver Tree Day Camp in San Francisco.   

  • Grateful

    “In Sausalito,  
    heaven isn’t  
    a metaphor.  
    It’s a feeling.”

    Kathy and I began her birthday celebration yesterday with breakfast at Java Beach Café on Judah Street in San Francisco. The weather was typical June gloom in The City, but breakfast at Java Beach was a great way to begin the day. We weren’t going to let the weather put a damper on this special occasion.

    After breakfast, we boarded the “N” Judah streetcar for a ride downtown to Embarcadero Station. A short walk across the Embarcadero took us directly to the Ferry Building where we boarded a Golden Gate Transit ferry boat for the thirty-minute ride to the charming little town of Sausalito. As the boat approached the Sausalito dock, the sun was beginning to break through the morning fog.

    Sausalito is described as a picturesque, Mediterranean-style seaside town which is famous for it’s stunning views of the San Francisco skyline. Bridgeway Promenade is the town’s central artery. It is lined with high-end boutiques, art galleries, cafés, and a few excellent waterfront dining establishments. A family favorite through the years has been The Spinnaker. The previous owner of the restaurant was a high school classmate of my Dad at Saint Ignatius High School in The City. His son took over the business when his father retired. He, too, was a graduate of S.I. and a classmate of my brother, Tom. 

    Kathy and I walked west on the promenade to the Sausalito Café and Bakery for lunch. The owner of that establishment has a daughter who just completed her second year at Santa Clara University. Kathy and I both enjoyed a turkey with cranberries sandwich. The owner treated Kathy to a complimentary birthday chocolate chip cookie, which was large enough for us to share. It’s a good thing we don’t live near this bakery. I don’t know of a place that serves more flavorful cookies.

    After lunch, the fog was gone. Although it was sunny, the breeze was still on the cool side (64º). We headed east back into the center of town, stopping along the way to check out some of the shops. Eventually, we made our way to Gabrielson Park, a delightful venue to sit on a bench with a view of Belvedere, Tiburon, and, of course, the San Francisco skyline.

    We caught the 3:30 ferry boat back to The City, then walked from the Ferry Building to Fisherman’s Wharf, passing by the popular Pier 39 along the way. We made our way to the Argonaut Hotel, located at the corner of Jefferson & Hyde Streets. By then, our step-count for the day was right around 10,000, so we enjoyed sitting and relaxing in comfortable chairs in front of the fireplace in the hotel lobby.

    Around 5:30, we left the hotel and walked directly across the street to my favorite Fisherman’s Wharf restaurant, Capurro’s, a fixture on the wharf since 1946. The restaurant owner, Paul Capurro, is a graduate of Sacred Heart High School in The City. At the conclusion of our meal, which consisted of salad and fresh crab risotto, Paul joined us at our table for an enjoyable 45-minute conversation. 

    We decided to catch an Uber ride back to our hotel near the beach. It was getting late, the wind had picked up, and the fog had returned. We were ready to call it a day.

    Grateful? Oh, yeah. 

  • A Special Day

    Happy Birthday, Kathy!

    What better way to celebrate Kathy’s birthday than a few days in San Francisco? It’s typical June weather in The City — cold, windy, overcast — but we’re planning to make the most of it. Heading over to Sausalito on the ferry boat today for a birthday lunch.

  • Father’s Day

  • Secrets

    “Some secrets 
    are shared. 
    Some are kept. 
    Some live 
    beyond words. 
    All three are part 
    of who we are.”
    Leo Buscaglia

    Secrets. Many people have them. Some few are able to keep them. I was once told that a secret is defined as “something you tell one person… at a time!” It seems that there is a lot of truth in this.

    I recall my boys, when they were quite young, being upset because some of the girls in the neighborhood, kids they played with almost every day, were telling secrets to each other. My boys felt left out — and a bit resentful. I could relate. There were countless times in my life when I became aware that I was not included in conversations, decisions, or general information. I felt left out, even betrayed. I have a different perspective on secrets now.

    No longer do I have the need, or the desire, to be included in everything. If someone wants to conceal something from me, it’s their prerogative to do so. I don’t feel left out, and I don’t feel betrayed. In fact, I often feel relieved at not having to deal with whatever drama they are concealing. Sharing secrets, however, carries significant emotional and psychological value.

    When we confide in someone, we release the burden of carrying hidden information. This has a way of lowering my level of stress while boosting my overall feeling of well-being. Sharing secrets also fosters intimacy, builds trust, and helps to create a shared reality with those to whom we reveal our secrets. 

    It seems that there are three major benefits to appropriately disclosing a secret. The first is psychological relief. Research has shown that holding onto a secret can consume cognitive resources, making some of our basic day-to-day tasks more difficult. When we share the secret, this mental burden is lifted from us.

    The second benefit is that sharing secrets has the potential to deepen relationships. Especially when we expose our own vulnerability, we demonstrate that we value the other person and trust them with our secret. This reciprocal exchange increases rapport and closeness in a relationship.

    Finally, sharing our secrets can offer us emotional support. When a secret is shared with a discreet, non-judgmental confidant, we often find that we gain a new perspective on the situation about which we shared. 

    Appropriate self-revelation is a key ingredient to a solid relationship. When we withhold information about ourselves from others, we are withholding a part of who we are from them. Doing so inhibits the potential growth of the relationship itself. 

    Yes, there are three types of secrets: (1) The secret we can only tell our very best friend, (2) the secret we can only tell ourselves, and (3) the secret we cannot even tell ourselves. It can be a challenge to determine into which category each of our secrets fall. 

  • Small Town Charm

    “Downtown San Mateo  
    is thriving as a 
    regional destination.” 
    Mackenzie Jakoubek

    Downtown San José (my home town) is, well,… a work in progress. Downtown Los Gatos is quaint, but congested and overpriced. Downtown Campbell is a comfortable place to meet a friend for lunch or dinner or to enjoy an ice cream at the Campbell Creamery. Downtown Santa Clara,… uh,… doesn’t exist. It’s true! There’s no “downtown” in Santa Clara, much to the disappointment of locals who have been trying to create the downtown once envisioned for the Mission City. 

    Downtown San Carlos is nice. With a few blocks of Laurel Street closed to motor vehicles, and a variety of eating establishments, it’s one of the nicer small town destinations on the peninsula. Downtown Burlingame doesn’t have much, but it does have Copenhagen Bakery, which is enough to get me to visit there fairly often.

    The downtowns in Los Altos and Mountain View also offer some nice options for meals or get togethers with friends. None of these places, however, compare with the ambiance and sense of belonging I experienced in downtown San Mateo.

    That’s where I met my sister, Cathy, for lunch on Tuesday. I took the train up from the South Bay. Cathy lives in San Mateo. We met at Peet’s Coffee at 3rd & B Streets. After enjoying a drink and some good conversation, we wandered up B Street to 1st Street, where Jeffrey’s Hamburgers is located right on the corner. Eating at Jeffrey’s is like stepping back into the 1950s. I ordered a cheeseburger and I got a real cheeseburger, not a cooked-from-frozen beef disc. Cathy and I shared an order of French fries, which were better than the fries served at most burger joints I’ve visited. To top it all off, I ordered a vanilla milkshake. Just like in the 50s and early 60s, it was blended in a tall, metal container, then poured into a traditional milkshake glass. It was topped with whipped cream and a cherry. When it was brought to our table, the server also left the metal container in which the dessert had been blended. There was enough milkshake left in the container to refill my glass completely, and the taste was exceptional. 

    After lunch we walked through downtown to San Mateo Central Park, where our family of origin had spent many Sunday afternoons in our childhood. The park is home to a stunning rose garden filled with countless varieties of colorful flowers.

    Downtown San Mateo is a community with character. Former San Mateo City Councilman, Jerry Hill, proudly remarked, “At a time when other municipalities are trying to invent a sense of character and identity,… San Mateo — with the largest downtown in the county — has long had a sense of place and community… San Mateo is about downtown — it is the theme of our city.”

    Yes, downtown San Mateo is a regional destination, not just another stop along the CalTrain tracks, and it is thriving. If you’re not familiar with this area, I urge you to check it out. You won’t be disappointed.

  • Courage

    A Shakespearean Sonnet

    The world is not the place it used to be.
    I guess this could be said in every age.
    Corruption, violence, all too much to see.
    With passions high, so many turn to rage.

    With no commitment to the common good,
    injustice can be seen most everywhere.
    If leaders simply did the things they should,
    they’d put an end to hatred and despair.

    Their greed and quest for privilege leaves us all
    so powerless to change the status quo.
    In time, this fragile world is bound to fall,
    and misery is all we’ll ever know.

    Despite the chaos which I’ve written of,
    with courage, we can view our world with love.

    © kmc2026

  • 4 x 18 = 72

    “The longer I live, 
    the more beautiful 
    life becomes.” 
    Frank Lloyd Wright

    Life is not without its pains and challenges. We are all confronted with experiences, situations, and individuals who make life difficult for us. Despite this reality, life is good — or, at least, it can be, if we allow it to be.

    I recently turned 72. That’s a lot of years! To live this long, it’s inevitable that I would have encountered times of struggle along the way, and I have. For the most part, those difficult times have come and gone. I have no doubt that there will be other challenging times in my future. That’s just how life works. Yet, when I look at my life through the lens of gratitude, it’s clear to me that I’ve been blessed in more ways than I ever deserved. 

    If I acknowledged my birthday only once every four years, I would now have had a total of 18 birthday celebrations. 4 x 18 = 72, right? The photo on the left side above is me at age four. The other image is me today. 68 years have passed since that first photo was taken. Those years included countless joys and sorrows, victories and defeats, successes and failures, acceptances and rejections, hopes and disappointments, and myriad experiences, both positive and negative. My life has not been perfect, but it’s been very good, and for this, I am incredibly grateful.

    As I face the reality of getting older, I am encouraged by the words of the influential Swiss psychotherapist, Carl Jung, who wrote, “A human being would certainly not grow to be 70 or 80 years old if this longevity had no meaning for the species to which he belongs. The afternoon of human life must also have a significance of its own and cannot be merely a pitiful appendage to life’s morning.”  

    I’ve learned that aging gracefully isn’t about looking young, it’s about embracing who I am.

    The English poet, Robert Browning, offers this encouraging invitation: “Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be.” I offer this same invitation to you.

  • “Working Fire!”

    “The hero is the man  
    who lets no obstacle  
    prevent him from  
    pursuing the values  
    he has chosen.”       
    Andrew Bernstein

    It was the late 1960s. I was at home one night when my Dad’s fire department radio, which we kept on 24/7 in the kitchen, announced that there was a “working fire” at the corner of 9th & 12th Avenues in The City. I don’t recall where Dad had been earlier in the evening, but he was wearing a suit. I was sitting at the kitchen table wondering how 9th & 12th Avenues could be an intersection, since the two streets, as far as I knew, ran parallel to each other, north to south.

    I got up from the table and asked Dad my 9th & 12th Avenue intersection question, explaining that there was a working fire at that location. Dad got up and walked into the kitchen to listen to the radio. The first thing he heard was a call for a 3rd alarm. He turned to me and said, “C’mon. Let’s take a ride.” He was off-duty, but firefighting was his life.

    The next thing I knew, we were cruising up Vicente Street, then Taraval to 14th Avenue. At the top of the steep hill, we turned right on Quintara and right again on 12th Avenue. Dad parked the car halfway down the block and we walked quickly toward the fire apparatus parked in front of the burning home. Sure enough, at the end of the block, the street sign read 9th & 12th Avenues. A house on the other side of the street was fully engulfed in flames.

    A hysterical woman was being told by one of the firefighters that the two women she claimed were in the home were not in the structure. He told her they had checked all the rooms. The woman insisted that the two elderly women never left their home and that she was sure they were still inside. 

    Dad turned to me and said, “Stay right here.” The next thing I knew, Dad was entering the home in search of the two women.

    I don’t recall how long he was inside the burning building. I remember it seemed like an eternity. I wondered how I would get home if anything happened to him. I was too young to drive, and the car keys were in his pocket.

    Finally, Dad emerged from the home. He informed the firefighter who had been speaking with the two women that the elderly women were, indeed, inside the home. He found their bodies in the back downstairs room, apparently victims of smoke inhalation. 

    I had not thought about that incident in many years, until last Thursday when I was walking the third segment of the Crosstown Trail with my friend, Mary. The walk took us up 9th Avenue to 12th on our way to 14th & Quintara. I noticed that two houses near the intersection were a notably different style than the others on the block. I’m guessing that the fire that night sixty years ago did enough damage to the neighboring house that both homes needed to be rebuilt.

    The memories of that night were vivid as I stood at the intersection on Thursday. I remember thinking that night that my Dad was a hero, even though the two women had perished. My thoughts about him have not changed.