I was there for the big bang when they imploded the 11-story Oak Knoll Naval Hospital, itself a combat veteran of changing times whispering dust along Keller Avenue together with a cloud of memories that coated nearby eucalyptus trees, a housing development approved more than 10 years ago by Oakland City Council but paused between economic downturns; Now SunCal’s building 918 units, and each day when I skim the perimeter there are tractors, backhoes, and compactors leveling the ground and conscripting more dead-eyes to history. When the hospital first fell, I remember reading Housekeeping, Marilynne Robinson’s first book; I have just finished her second, Gideon. This morning I attended a Zoom educational on Jewish views of the afterlife.