If you were to ask me who the most memorable person is whom I’ve written about over the years, it’s easy: Joseph Charles.
You might remember him as “Berkeley’s Waving Man.” That’s what most people called him, although others called him Charley Wavesalot. I called him Mr. Charles. He passed away 23 years ago this week, just before his 92nd birthday.
Before that, though, every morning for exactly 30 years — from Oct. 6, 1962 to Oct. 6, 1992 (Mr. Charles was very precise about this) — he stood in front of his house on the city’s northeast corner of Oregon Street and Martin Luther King Jr. Way from 7:30 to 9 a.m. Mondays through Fridays and waved to commuters, calling out, “Keep smiling!” and “Have a GOOD day!”
In so doing, he became beloved. He was the grand marshal of the Berkeley and Albany’s Solano Stroll and the How Berkeley Can You Be? parade. He was featured on the 1980s TV show “Real People” and on CBS news with Walter Cronkite.
People drove for miles out of their way so they could wave back to Berkeley’s Waving Man. That includes two mayors, Loni Hancock and Shirley dean, political rivals who found common ground in their love for Mr. Charles.
“He was a joyful person who loved people, and we loved him right back,” says Hancock. “Seeing him every morning was a great way to start the day.”
She wanted the city to build a life-sized statue of him on that corner, waving to the traffic. The city’s Public Works Department vetoed the idea, though, saying it would cost too much, so they named the tennis courts across the street after him instead.
I don’t know if Mr. Charles ever played a game of tennis in his life; his game was baseball. Growing up in Louisiana, he played in the Negro leagues as a second baseman for the Lake Charles Black Yankees, even batting once against Satchel Paige when the great pitcher came through town on a barnstorming tour. He struck out on three straight pitches.
“But at least I got a foul tip,” he always insisted proudly, “which was better than anyone else did that day.”
Mr. Charles was born on March 22, 1910. When he was 22, he joined the great African American migration out of the South to, among other places, the East Bay’s Richmond shipyards, where he helped build the ships that won World War II.
After the war he worked as a stevedore at the Oakland Naval Supply Center until he retired on Oct. 5, 1962. The next morning, he embarked on his true calling, donning orange construction workers’ gloves (which are now the the Berkeley Historical Society’s proud property) and stood in the aforementioned time and place waving to cars passing by.
He kept it up every weekday for the next 30 years, rain or shine. He was also a surrogate grandfather to several generations of kids who grew up in the neighborhood. Many parents who couldn’t get off work until 5 would tell them to play in Mr. Charles’ front yard because they knew they could trust him to look after them.
I remember the day the tennis court was dedicated. Some city officials were escorting Mr. Charles through a group of teenagers who were doing what teenagers always do: trying to look as cool and disdainful as possible. Then they spotted Mr. Charles and instantly reverted to the little kids who used to play in his yard.
“Hey! It’s Mr. Charles!” “Hi, Mr. Charles!” “Keep smiling!” “Have a GOOD day!”
After he died, people started gathering in front of his house each year on his birthday, March 22, and waved to the morning traffic in his honor. However, they won’t be back this year because March 22 falls on a weekend. Ditto for 2026. They’ll be back in 2027.
In the meantime, how can we get our Waving Man fix? It’s obvious: Mr. Charles lives within us. Wherever you are on March 22, stand in front of your home and give a friendly wave to whomever drives by.
If anyone freaks out and calls the cops, you’ll be in good company. That’s what happened the first day Mr. Charles began waving, and when the police arrived they smiled and said, “Just keep waving, Mr. Charles.”
Keep smiling, and have a GOOD day!
Martin Snapp can be reached at catman442@comcast.net.