Ambrose Gondola, a lifelong West Marin resident and devoted family man, died earlier this month at age 91. Born in Tomales in 1923, Ambrose was sent to work on a dairy in Olema when he was 10, helping support the family after his father died; he never returned home. Instead, he built a rich life in the Olema Valley and Point Reyes Station.
“He was such a loving man, and openly affectionate toward his children during the ’50s and ’60s when that wasn’t common in fathers,” said his daughter Doreen Cox. “He had a hard childhood, so we don’t know how he turned out so nurturing.”
Ambrose’s son, Larry Gondola, said that as a child, his father made him feel secure. “When you were sick or anything, you wanted to be in my father’s arms,” he said. “He wasn’t a big man, but he was a very strong man. He had arms like Popeye back then.”
Though born in California, Ambrose grew up speaking Italian. His parents, Antonio and Elizabeth Gondola, were both immigrants. His mother never learned English, and his father insisted that Ambrose speak to him in Italian. His father worked on a ranch, and Ambrose said that he began helping to milk cows at the age of 5 or 6. He had a sister, who remained in Tomales after their father passed away.
When he was 11, Ambrose met Edith Dellepere, who later became his wife, at the one-room Olema School. The two were married after Ambrose returned home from the military, and their union lasted over 67 years—until Edith died this spring. Long before the two became sweethearts he was good friends with Edith’s younger brother John, and Edith’s mother would mend young Ambrose’s clothes and darn his socks.
From the outset, young Ambrose was an athlete and hard worker who made the most of the opportunities in West Marin. Throughout school he continued to work as a ranch hand, milking cows in the small hours of the morning before class. In 1942 he graduated from Tomales High as the athlete of the year, and he was invited to try out for the San Francisco Seals baseball team—but he didn’t go because he was scheduled for work instead.
“He worked his rear end off, I tell you that,” Larry said. “He was also a perfectionist. If you were painting a wall and you made a mistake, you had to do it again. And he was like that in his jobs, too.”
During World War II Ambrose enlisted in the Air Force, and spent the war years as a mechanic. He never went overseas, but traveled the United States and serviced B29 Superfortress heavy bombers. He kept a photo of himself at a base in Denver, and a menu from a Christmas dinner in Casper, Wyo. In 1945, he returned home to West Marin and married Edith.
For the bulk of his career, Ambrose was a heavy equipment operator for CalTrans (then called the State Highway Department), maintaining roads throughout West Marin. As far as his children know, he never called in sick in nearly 40 years on the job—but he was often called away in the middle of the night to deal with floods, slides, fallen trees and anything else that could go wrong on Highway 1.
“His supervisor always said that my dad made his job so much easier,” Doreen said. “He was a single man, and mom and dad took him in and would have him over for dinner. That’s the kind of person my father was; he was very warm and accepting, and totally about family and friends.”
Ambrose’s career left another prominent mark on the West Marin landscape, as he played a pivotal role in the arrival of the herd of “white” deer. During a brief period when he worked as a ranch hand for Millard “Doc” Ottinger in 1949, Ambrose was assigned the job of picking up the initial truckload of 26 fallow and axis deer from the San Francisco Zoo and driving them to Inverness.
Ambrose recalled the drive from San Francisco for the rest of his life: he was stopped twice by the highway patrol because a truck similar to his had been used in a robbery the same night. And the drama continued after the deer arrived: the largest buck was shot a few days later, much to Ottinger’s outrage. Ambrose later said he knew who did it, but he kept his mouth shut. The exotic deer were kept on Ottinger’s ranch for sport hunting, and when the doctor sold the property he released them to roam wild. The deer went on to proliferate, becoming a striking part of the landscape for many decades until their extermination several years ago.
But the main way Ambrose made his mark was through kindness. Family always came first. He was stern but unfailingly affectionate, Doreen said, and his children never wanted to disappoint him. In return, he loved them each fiercely and for very individual reasons.
“I don’t think my father ever compared the kids at all; everything was equal,” Larry said.
Doreen added, “We all are very different, and my dad always told us not only how much he loved us but how proud he was of each of us in our own unique way.”
Church, school and community were central to Ambrose and Edith’s life. The priests at Sacred Heart Church recall waking up early in the morning to the sound of Ambrose outside mowing the grass, Doreen said. For many years, Ambrose coached Little League, and he and Edith never missed any of their son’s games during high school. The two continued to attend the games that Larry coached throughout his long career as a coach at Marin Catholic as well. As a result, Ambrose had friends throughout the county and was “Uncle Ambrose” to generations of children.
“I had cousins all over Point Reyes and Olema, and we would play all day long and never lock the door,” Larry said. “It was a totally different time. We used to go down the main street in Point Reyes Station in box cars. They would take six kids over to Nicasio for games in the back of a truck, no seatbelts or anything.”
Larry said his dad gave him just the right amount of freedom. Ambrose first took him hunting at 8 years old—the only child in a group—but insisted that he carry a stick instead of a gun for the first year and call the rancher first to ask for permission.
“I remember making that phone call,” Larry said. “I was so nervous, but they had set it all up in advance. It was part of the rite of passage.”
Ambrose Gondola is survived by his daughters, Linda Burbank, Doreen Cox and Carol Ziss; his son, Larry Gondola; his three grandchildren and four great grandchildren; and a great many other relatives and friends. Memorial donations may be made to the Darren Burbank Memorial Scholarship Fund, P. O. Box 126, Tomales, CA 94971; Hospice by the Bay, 17 E Sir Francis Drake Blvd., Larkspur, CA 94939; or to a charity of your choice.
You can hear about Ambrose’s life in his own words in two oral history interviews with him and Edith at http://thestoryshed.wordpress.com.