An observer of the Downtown San Diego street scene a few months back would have seen a San Josean with his mouth agape. That guy would’ve been me, and the look of bewilderment would, in all truth, not be related to the fact that I had just left a bar after three hours of enjoying food and, um, beverage.

Instead, my shocked look stemmed from what I couldn’t help but see firsthand. It was people. Normal, everyday folk (for the most part). But lots of them. Lots and lots of them. In Gaslamp?

Now, you San Diegans might question my puzzlement. But here’s where I was coming from:

I had the great pleasure of calling San Diego home for eight years, ending in August 1987. For the last three of those years, I had the great pleasure of covering Downtown San Diego as a reporter for the San Diego Daily Transcript. I left town after “training” my replacement, Tim McClain, editor of the rag (he said affectionately) you hold in your hand. My boss then was the publisher of this fair rag, Gary Shaw.

So, I thought it would be nice of me to e-mail Tim with my impressions of a quick visit to see the new baseball park. Knowing my perspective, and knowing I would be cheap (i.e. free), Tim suggested a short write-up.

I’ve visited San Diego just thrice since moving, and just once, very briefly, had I been Downtown. Sure, things change in a day, let alone in 17 years, but this was not even close to the Gaslamp I had left. Yes, it was a Saturday night. And it was 10:30 peak time. And the Padres-Cubs baseball game had ended not long before. But the scene, truly, was Mardi Gras-esque.

My pals and I finally left Rock Bottom after packs of standing-room-only groups had hungrily eyed our table for hours. But when we strolled through Gaslamp, we quickly noted a phenomenon. Every, I mean every bar or bar/restaurant had a waiting line. I do not exaggerate.

The Gaslamp I left in 1987 was just starting to become a gas. Downtown wasn’t completely deserted to the homeless and the strange, but it wasn’t often hopping.

Two years earlier, Ernest Hahn had infused a dynamic charge of life into center city with his Horton Plaza. Greater Downtown had its big backers, but I can only recall a few names of Gaslamp chance-takers of that time. People like developer Chris Mortenson with his Golden Lion bar and restaurant (where Hard Rock Cafe is now) and Dan Pearson with his Horton Grand Hotel.

The U.S. Grant was up, the trolley was running, the convention center was under construction and a sparkplug named Ingrid Croce had just set up shop. But, no, Gaslamp had not arrived.

Now comes that wonderful new ballpark. Sure, that was one big reason for the crowds. But not the total reason. Even my three friends, all 25-year San Diego area residents, were astonished at the crowd, having seldom been Downtown of late. Pretty cool.

I remember talking with a San Diego city planner the night of the gala Horton Plaza opening. It was easy to envision Downtown’s rebirth then. In my last two years in San Diego, that remained largely an unrealized vision. Now, 17 years later, I see what I had envisioned.

Congrats, Gaslamp. Congrats, Downtown.

Mike Krey is Silicon Valley Bureau Chief for Investor’s Business Daily. He and his family live in Campbell.