OAKLAND, Calif. — Every day at work begins the same way for Henry Dawson. He takes the elevator to the sixth floor of the Oakland Coliseum, then strides the dozen yards to section 345. He steps out onto the most coveted, most controversial real estate here, and he gazes at the field, at the players and at the 129 sections of seats not covered by tarps.
“Just remembering how it was,” he says. “Remembering when the park was full. Remembering that the park’s not gonna be a park anymore—but remembering when it was still a park.”
