At the center of Cherryland stood Harold James: owner, cook, waiter, maitre de, dishwasher, janitor, bouncer, literary critic, theologian, realist, existentialist, romantic, transcendentalist, free-thinker, liberal, conservative, Pickwickian, and chess enthusiast.
Other than chess, it would be difficult to assign a single description to Cherryland; actually, it would be impossible, for it was so many things to so many different people. Located on what use to be the corner of Meekland and A in Hayward, California, Harold had unintentionally created a Bohemian paradise of chess players, a retired doughnut shop owner, his wife, his friends, and his patrons from his former business, factory workers, college students, a couple of professors, big-rig drivers, a few pastors and their respective flocks, a couple of cops, a few garbage men, and a few more chess players to round things out.
