We've lost a lot, but that doesn't mean anyone should downplay that which continues. San Jose is a resonating chamber of identities, all bouncing off each other, in the same way audio frequencies bounce off the walls of an auditorium. That's the best way to understand this place. Forget the worn-out clichés like "melting pot" or "mosaic." Use the term "resonating chamber." To me, that makes more sense.
Though we all grew up with the supernatural legends surrounding the San Jose house, they're simply not true. As definitively explained in South Bay author Mary Jo Ignoffo's 2012 book "Captive of the Labyrinth," the mansion's namesake Sarah L. Winchester never gave any indication in her lifetime that she was haunted by any ghosts, let alone angry ones who had been killed by the rifles that her family produced. She probably never held a séance or had any interest in spiritualism at all.
For more than 105 years, Hammer & Lewis Clothiers has existed in an indefinable place in culture and time. Its two San Jose locations offer Cary Grant-worthy suits, the shiniest of dress shoes, classic flannel Pendletons and jackets flamboyant enough for Burning Man celebrants. It is de rigueur for zoot-suited pachucos and aficionados of fine headwear and can count ZZ Top guitarist Billy Gibbons among its sharp-dressed men.