On April 11th, after having their dinner at their Turk Street Apartment in San Francisco, Swamiji, Alice Hansborough, and Mr Aspinall took the streetcar and then the ferry across the Bay to arrive at the Home of Truth located at the Central Avenue in Alameda. The little island town of Alameda, was on the eastern side of the San Francisco Bay. Alice had already sent Swamiji’s trunk, which she herself packed as she often did, by express to the ‘Home of Truth’.
The Swami had visited the Alameda Home earlier too and found its atmosphere quite congenial. Even before shifting there, he had lectured there at least three times. He had also delivered lectures under the auspices of the Alameda Cheney Section at the residence of Mrs George H. Perry at 1424 Oak Street, near the Santa Clara Avenue. The three known topics of his lectures – there could be a few more – were Mind – its powers and possibilities, Mind Culture, and Concentration of Mind. The Swami was known to have a considerable appreciation for the work done by the Homes of Truth and was appreciative of the fact that the workers there, by and large, did not charge for spiritual assistance.
The Alameda Home was quite a large house surrounded by a beautiful garden and lawns, having orchids and flowers in abundance. The house was located at 2527 Central Avenue and had a mid-Victorian appearance. It belonged to a Barton family who had loaned it as they were away on a European sojourn. The house is no more there, and on its spot is the Alameda Hotel, a Spanish-California style structure.
There was a large porch where Swamiji sometimes sat talking to those gathered around him. Edith Allan in her reminiscences particularly remembered the conversation there on the Easter night : “The Easter Sunday night was the full moon, the wisteria was in full bloom and draped the porch like a curtain. Swamiji sat on the porch smoking his pipe and telling funny stories. He told how his feet hurt when he wore shoes in Chicago, and of his experience with a lady doctor who had undertaken to attend to his toe. ‘Oh my toe, my toe!’ he said. ‘Whenever I think of that lady doctor, my toe hurts.’
Then one of the listeners asked him to talk on “Renunciation”. “Renunciation?” the Swami exclaimed. ‘Babies, what do you know of renunciation?’ ‘Are we too young even to hear of it?’ he was asked. Swamiji remained silent for a while and then gave a most illuminating and inspiring talk which captivated everyone. He spoke of discipleship and of entire resignation to the guru, which was quite a new teaching to the Western world.”
It was here that an extraordinary experience was in store for some fortunate ones, Alice being one. This, according to her, was one of the times when she saw Swamiji in an wonderfully exalted state. One day after breakfast, Swamiji began to speak of his Master to a few who were present. He spoke of many stories that Sri Ramakrishna used to narrate. He was in a particularly elevated mood and everyone just sat on their seats spellbound. Swamiji himself sat still all that while and everyone was transported to a realm where they lost the sense of time. They were first seated at the breakfast table and Swamiji began to talk. They then moved to the front room so that the housekeepers could clear the table. Mrs. Aspinall, the Mr and Mrs Roorbachs, and Alice took their seats with Swamiji sitting on a chair facing them. He talked a great deal of his Master, and shared two stories told by his Master.
Alice recalled that “the first was a story of an old water-demon who lived in a pool. She had long hair, which was capable of infinite extension. When people would come to bathe in the pool, sometimes she would devour them if she was hungry. With others, however, she would twine a hair around one of their toes. When they went home, the hair, invisible, would just stretch and stretch; and when the old demon became hungry she would just start pulling on the hair until the victim came back to the pool once more, to be eaten up.”
“You have bathed in the pool where my Mother dwells,” Swamiji had said to Mrs Hansborough at the end. “Go back home if you wish; but her hair is twined round your toe and you will have to come back to the pool in the end.”
The other story was of a man who was wading down a stream. Suddenly he was bitten by a snake. He looked down, and thought the snake was a harmless water snake and that he was safe. Actually it was a cobra. Swamiji then looked at Alice : “You have been bitten by the cobra. Don’t ever think you can escape!”
Mrs. Hansborough while further describing the incident said : “Swamiji did not move from his seat once during the whole conversation. None of us moved from our seats. Yet when he finished it was five o’clock in the afternoon. Later the two housekeepers told us they had tried twice to open the door from the kitchen into the dining room to clear the table, but could not get it open. They thought we had locked it so we would not be disturbed. Even when Swamiji had finished, Mrs. Aspinall was the only one who thought of taking any food. As we went up the stairs to his room, Swamiji said: ‘They think I have driven them crazy. Well, I shall drive them crazier yet!’”
Mrs. Hansborough recounts another very interesting incident in Alameda when she was depressed about something. Swamiji said to her, “Come, sit down and we will meditate.” To which she replied, “Oh, I never meditate, Swami.” “Well,” the Swami said, “come and sit by me, and I will meditate.” “So I sat down and closed my eyes,’ Mrs Hansborough recalled. “In a moment I felt as though I were going to float away, and I quickly opened my eyes to look at Swamiji. He had the appearance of a statue, as though there were not a spark of life in his body.”
The organizers and members of the Alameda Home were vegetarians But Swamiji expressed what he felt he needed. He said: “See here, I must have meat. I cannot live on potatoes and asparagus with the work I am doing!” So they got meat for him, although they themselves were vegetarians. Molly Rankin, one of the two English housekeepers at the Home, said that no person could eat as much as Swamiji did and be spiritual! These women were of the firm opinion that a spiritual person never ate meat, never smoked, and never fell ill.
Mr Rhodehamel, who often visited the Home during time of the Swami’s stay, recorded in his reminiscences :
“The cream for the breakfast was missing one morning. It was a mystery as they knew the milk-man had left it. The event was discussed at breakfast. The Swami quietly listened until all had exhausted their wits in their efforts to solve the mystery. Then he coolly informed him that he had drunk it.”
Mr. Rhodehamel who saw the Swami and also spent time with him both in San Francisco as well as Alameda related a funny incident that happened while they were once crossing the Bay.
“Once while crossing the bay between San Francisco and Oakland, he took the notion to smoke. He was seated with some ladies on the upper deck of the ferry where smoking was prohibited. Drawing a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, he lit one and blew the smoke in playful defiance at the prohibitive sign, “No Smoking.” One of his companions quickly warned him, “Swami! Swami! You can’t smoke here!….Here comes the officer. Quick – put it out!”
‘“Why should I put it out?” he drawled in exasperating coolness.
“The officer in question caught sight of the offender, and started for him. Swami continued to puff until the officer came up to him. Then he laughingly threw the half-smoked cigarette overboard. The officer looked at him a moment and slowly passed on.”
How an American cop who did not know of this Indian’s identity and that too way back in times when the country was a colonised nation, could, merely at the sight of this man, get overpowered is perhaps a possible subject of meditation. Can there be any other explanation than that the Swami was a born king and lived every moment of his life like one and as French Nobel Laureate and first Western biographer of the Swami, Romain Rolland, had said “nobody came near him without paying obeisance.”.
The teachers at the Alameda Home used to engage in a great deal of healing. People visited the Home asking to be helped. Mrs Roorbach, of the key caretakers of the Home, had once helped heal someone out of cancer. While the Swami was at the Home she talked to him about it and said, “Swami, I have absolutely no idea how this was done, I only know I have been using a force which I don’t understand and which is too big for me. I am a little afraid of it, and I am going to give it up.” Hearing this Swamiji smiled and said with a gesture of approval, “Good, good.” It was no less than a great shake-up that the members of the Home felt upon receiving the deep insights into spiritual life from wonderful visitor they were immensely forrunate to have among them. Mrs. Roorbach later remarked that the Swami ‘blew the top out of our minds.’
A very special photograph of Swamiji was taken in Alameda at the home of his friend Charles Neilson. Once Mr Neilson invited Swamiji with a group of friends to his home, located at 1418 Pearl Street. After lunch Swamiji stretched out on the lawn. Mr Neilson, wishing to take his picture requested him to pose. But Swamiji was in no mood to get up. Tom Allan who was present there later recounted, “Someone said, ‘Swami, Mr Neilson wants to take your picture, why not let him?’ Swamiji then stood up in front of the summer house and Mr Neilson took the picture, and that is how Swamiji has flowers for a background.”
Mr Neilson took two pictures of Swamiji. The first one shows him looking not at all pleased. According to Mrs Allan, someone said, “Oh, Swami, please smile for us!”, after which Swamiji smiled. That is how the second photograph was taken. Edith Allan in her reminiscences said, “you will see everything in it.” (that is the picture in this post)
Swamiji gave all his public lectures in Alameda at the Tucker’s Hall. It was a two-story structure built in 1879 on the southeast corner of Park Street and Santa Clara Avenue. In a lecture titled ‘Man’s Ultimate Destiny’ on April 12th at this venue, Swamiji took the audience step by step to the heights of Advaita and finished by placing his hand on the chest and saying “I am God.” The audience was awed into silence and many people thought it was blasphemy for Swamiji to say such a thing.
Even during his stay in Alameda he did cross the Bay a few times to lecture at San Francisco. It was after one such lecture that the Vedanta Society of San Francisco was formally started. It was Mrs Hansborough who suggested the founding of such a Society in the Bay Area. There were two meetings for the purpose. The details were not completed at the first meeting which was probably on April 13th and so Dr Logan, a physician who was interested in Vedanta, suggested meeting the following night at his office at 770 Oak Street.
At the first meeting, Mrs Hansborough suggested to Swamiji that he leave before the meeting. He asked her why, and she told him that it was because she wanted to say a few things about him which she would be embarrassed speaking in his presence. Swamiji, thus, left before the meeting. Mrs Hansborough told the attendees about the arrangements made for similar societies in Los Angeles and Pasadena. Some more procedural formalities were finalised in a couple of later meetings. This is how, the Vedanta Society of San Francisco came into being in April 1900.
▶Next Chapter: A fortnight in the Redwoods of Northern California