On this date, in 2007, the Wilcox family arrived in San Diego. We had left the Washington, DC-metro area to be close to my aged father-in-law, who luckily found us an apartment one block from his place. Our presence meant that in January 2017 he could pass way at age 95 in his own bed, rather than in some sterile institution.
The city is hardly recognizable from the one we moved to. San Diego seemed sleepy, small town-like for the size. Communities were tight knit, even with the massive number of renters; congestion was a rare occurrence on the roadways; neighborhood streets were wide; housing architecture was surprisingly varied and charming; and homeowners kept attractive green spaces, among many other attractive attributes, with the three-summer season weather being among them.