Rini describes her organization, Disha Darshan, and how they lend a helping hand to women in need in the community.

Holly tells the story of how a group of dedicated swimmers helped construct a state-of-the-art community pool at Fremont High School.

Evelyn supported hers and many other children in the marching band at Sunnyvale High School and tells about their successes and a memorable trip to Hawaii.

Long-time resident and volunteer extraordinaire Helen James talks about various memories she has of living in Pacifica, one of which being one of the rare times it actually snowed.

The yearly Farmers market in South San Francisco and all its goodies.

Lisa remembers the schools she attended and the teachers and events that had an impact on her growing up in Sunnyvale.

Mary shares her many experiences as a volunteer in Sunnyvale.

Evelyn recalls 50 years of the Sunnyvale Library, from moving out of the City Hall auditorium all the way to checking out millions of items using RFID technology.

Slideshow of the volunteers.

Jeanine recounts her involvement in City and school activities as a volunteer.

Pat recounts how the Fremont High Watermelon Run transformed from a cross-country team warmup race to a much-anticipated annual community event.

The story of Ricarda Rodriguez.

One of Sacramento's most dynamic personalities and talents, Burnett R. Miller gives an interview, providing thoughts on his pioneer heritage, political experiences, and philanthropic pursuits.

My family moved to Roseville from Atascadero when I was a sophomore in high school. I graduated from Oakmont High School in 1980 and started attending Sierra College while I earned money for a year to go on a mission for my church. Young men in our church have the opportunity when they’re 19 years old to serve as a missionary somewhere in the world for two years and that had long been my plan. I had worked odd jobs during high school and done some construction in the summers to save money, but as a new high school graduate I thought I should get a real job. I failed to make the cut at some of the more sought after companies like McDonald’s and Burger King, but in the end I was able to secure a position at the Press Tribune. I started soon after graduation as a district manager, a title at least I was quite impressed with. At that time, the circulation department of the Press Tribune, including the presses, was a few doors down from the Moose Lodge on Lincoln Street in Old Roseville. The district, it turns out, was a geographical area of the city divided into about twenty delivery routes. My job was to pick up the paper bundles each day and deliver them to the homes of the delivery boys and girls before they got out of school. The Press Tribune was at that time an afternoon newspaper. I was also to “manage” the young delivery people which is why I had the lofty title. I managed them by dealing with customer complaints and making sure they collected from the customers each month and paid their bill to the paper. I was definitely the youngest of the 8 or 10 district managers. I think the others were all trying to supplement their meager retirement income and had lived a life that had left them a little jaded. I was young, excited about my first real job and oblivious to the idea that it might not be as glamorous as all that. We were encouraged to round up a few “carriers” as the delivery kids were called a couple of nights a week and go “crewing”, which was selling subscriptions door to door. This was mostly an optional activity and I couldn’t understand why the old people mostly gave it a pass because one could earn extra bonus money for every subscription sold. I thought it was great because I didn’t have to do any of the selling, the boys and girls did that. I just drove them to the right neighborhood and “managed” them while they worked. They earned fabulous prizes and I earned real money. My boss was Ron Gipson. He seemed to think that I was a very responsible young man and I really looked up to him, so I tried to live up to his impression. He was pleased that I was so active in arranging crews and we were selling so many new subscriptions. The problem was that I was only a few years older than some of the carriers and we got along like friends. I know that I was the “adult”, but when you get a few young guys together with a car and essentially no responsible supervision, things will happen. I tried to remember that I was the responsible adult and for the most part I succceeded, but every now and then, I forgot. One time a boy jumped up on the hood of the car as he crossed the street in front of me and grinned at me with a look of challenge on his face. It was not very adult of me to hit the gas and swerve from side to side until he slid off the hood. At times like that I would come to my senses and realize that Mr. Gipson would be very disappointed with me if he knew what I was doing and I would put my adult hat back on. I think to this day Ron Gipson would still say that I was a mature and responsible young 18 year old man, so I hope he never finds out about my youthful lapses in judgment. There was a time right before I left for South Korea on my mission when the cat almost was let out of the bag. I had been out with some boys crewing on a Saturday in the Loomis area. Sometimes when we would go out to the rural areas there was more riding in the car than walking or even selling and the boys would find ways to entertain themselves. On this particular day as I drove I could tell that something was going on in the car behind me and I knew that if I was a responsible adult I would turn around and put a stop to their high jinks. I chose instead to pretend that I didn’t know. I thought they were rolling up newspapers and throwing them out the windows at mailboxes, horses and other objects animate and inanimate but I didn’t look because I didn’t want to ruin their fun. I also needed plausible deniability, which turned out to be a good thing when Mr. Gipson got a call on Monday morning about boys in a car in their neighborhood that were tossing copies of the Press Tribune at everything that moved or didn’t. Mr. Gipson asked me about it when I came in that afternoon and I told him I would talk to the reprobates and that it wouldn’t happen again. It seemed like he bought the idea that I was unaware of their actions and...

I am going to tell you about my father, Willard Dietrich. Dad's parents, Martin and Susie, came to Roseville in 1919 and settled on Royer Street and lived there until they died. My father went to school here and graduated from Roseville High School in 1923, I graduated in 1946, and my daughter Karen in 1970. After high school, Dad went to Oregon State College and studied horticulture. After college he was employed as the city's first Park Superintendent. He took care of Royer Park and the Zoo. There were deer, bears, monkeys, and a pond for ducks. I don't remember if there were other animals or not. He planted lots of trees and flower gardens. There was a playground on the north side of Dry Creek, where the public parking lot is now, with a footbridge connecting the two. When he retired after 26 years, his hobby took over and he opened Dietrich Nursery. He really enjoyed the nursery even though it was hard work. It started small and grew until there was no more space at that location. The nursery was located on the corner of Judah and Royer Streets where Bunz's Restaurant is now. Dad also served on the Roseville High School Board as a trustee for 15 years. He ran for city council and served two terms. He was Mayor when Roseville was named an All American City in 1964. He was also the owner of Gopher Gulch, a small community of seven cottages that were occupied by senior citizens. There were some characters, but all were good people. Chic Courter, who wrote a column for the Press Tribune, lived in Gopher Gulch and was the unofficial Mayor. The residents petitioned the city council to name the small alley that led to their homes Gopher Gulch Alley, and then they contacted the Post Office to have their mail delivered to each house. They were successful in both cases. Harry Pack another resident of Gopher Gulch put up a flag pole and raised the American flag every day. Dad was one of the members of the board of trustees that brought Sierra College to Rocklin. He served continuously from 1957 until his death in 1972. The theater at Sierra College is named Dietrich Theatre in his honor. He really loved Roseville and did what he could to make it a wonderful place to live.

I am going to tell you about my father, Willard Dietrich. Dad's parents, Martin and Susie, came to Roseville in 1919 and settled on Royer Street and lived there until they died. My father went to school here and graduated from Roseville High School in 1923, I graduated in 1946, and my daughter Karen in 1970. After high school, Dad went to Oregon State College and studied horticulture. After college he was employed as the city's first Park Superintendent. He took care of Royer Park and the Zoo. There were deer, bears, monkeys, and a pond for ducks. I don't remember if there were other animals or not. He planted lots of trees and flower gardens. There was a playground on the north side of Dry Creek, where the public parking lot is now, with a footbridge connecting the two. When he retired after 26 years, his hobby took over and he opened Dietrich Nursery. He really enjoyed the nursery even though it was hard work. It started small and grew until there was no more space at that location. The nursery was located on the corner of Judah and Royer Streets where Bunz's Restaurant is now. Dad also served on the Roseville High School Board as a trustee for 15 years. He ran for city council and served two terms. He was Mayor when Roseville was named an All American City in 1964. He was also the owner of Gopher Gulch, a small community of seven cottages that were occupied by senior citizens. There were some characters, but all were good people. Chic Courter, who wrote a column for the Press Tribune, lived in Gopher Gulch and was the unofficial Mayor. The residents petitioned the city council to name the small alley that led to their homes Gopher Gulch Alley, and then they contacted the Post Office to have their mail delivered to each house. They were successful in both cases. Harry Pack another resident of Gopher Gulch put up a flag pole and raised the American flag every day. Dad was one of the members of the board of trustees that brought Sierra College to Rocklin. He served continuously from 1957 until his death in 1972. The theater at Sierra College is named Dietrich Theatre in his honor. He really loved Roseville and did what he could to make it a wonderful place to live.