A Nostalgic Glimpse: When Thanksgiving Day, 1925, Saw Berkeley Disappear into the Fog

Imagine, if you will, Thanksgiving Day, November 25, 1925. The air, rather than crisp with the promise of autumn or fragrant with roasting turkey, hung heavy and still. A truly extraordinary, almost otherworldly phenomenon had descended upon the Bay Area, turning what should have been a day of clear skies and family gatherings into something quite different: a profound, unforgettable experience wrapped in a thick, pea-souper fog.

This wasn't just any morning mist; this was a formidable, pervasive blanket that seemed to swallow everything in its path. From the Golden Gate to the rolling hills, the entire region was plunged into an eerie, luminous gloom. But for those of us with a soft spot for Berkeley, that particular stretch of the Bay was especially notable. The vibrant campus, the bustling streets, even the distinctive architecture — all seemed to dissolve, softened and muted by nature's own colossal curtain.

One can only begin to picture the scene. Visibility, I imagine, must have dropped to mere feet, turning even the shortest stroll into an adventure. Car headlights would have struggled to pierce the dense white, casting ghostly halos rather than illuminating the path ahead. The usual sounds of the city – clatter of streetcars, distant chatter, the hum of nascent urban life – would have been strangely muffled, creating an almost surreal silence that perhaps only the deep, resonant blasts of foghorns dared to puncture.

For families gathering for Thanksgiving dinner, this meant a unique set of challenges, and perhaps, some unexpected charms. Travel plans would have been undoubtedly disrupted, making reunions a little more arduous, a little more memorable. Yet, amidst this shrouding mist, there must have been a peculiar sense of camaraderie, a shared experience of navigating the extraordinary. Perhaps fireplaces glowed a little warmer, conversations felt a little more intimate, and the simple act of finding one's way home became a story for the ages.

Looking back a century later, this Thanksgiving of 1925 stands out not just as a meteorological anomaly, but as a fascinating snapshot of life in the Bay Area. It's a reminder of how powerfully nature can assert itself, and how even in the midst of its most dramatic displays, life — and indeed, celebration — finds a way. It etched itself into the memories of those who lived through it, a truly unforgettable day when Berkeley, and the world around it, simply vanished into the fog.