Grab Bag #34
I come to praise San Francisco, not bury it, plus news on old stuff getting older.
“San Francisco needs no eulogy. Wherever civilized man is wont to tread the earth the name of San Francisco is known… [S]he commands respect and attention for many things she has accomplished, and the world bows in acceptance to the great possibilities the ‘City of the Golden Gate’ will advance in the near future.”
The above quote is from an intro for an 1899 business-boosting directory of the city. Tired of having folks bash on San Francisco of late, I admit I am vulnerable to the back-patters of yesterday.
“San Francisco it must be remembered, did not spring into existence like some fair Arcadia, and there let its destiny rest with the fates. This city has had some besetting times, but she has never faltered one step in her march of progress, and has come radiantly from the flames of adversity, which in the years gone by threatened to retard all that had been accomplished.”
Amen, brother. Preach on. Oh, by the way, 1899 writer? Big earthquake and fire coming your way in seven years, so get ready for more flames of adversity…
“The citizens look with gratification on the things which were accomplished in the past, and rejoice in the gigantic proportions of the present. Combining these glowing successes of the past and present, the future cannot help but be an assurance of prosperity, and it is to such that San Francisco is triumphantly marching on. The future of this great city will be told by historians to come.”
That felt good. Sure, when the author wrote about glowing futures, he likely had in mind children working in foundries and the enslavement of whole island chains in the Pacific Ocean, but it’s nice to pump ourselves up a bit now and then...
You can see the trap, right? Believing the past was a better world is almost as attractive as believing that the future will always be a march towards “progress.”
It is tempting to escape today’s click-bait fears and scroll back into imaginary Arcadias, but all we really have are each other and making a better today.
Young Man Memories
One’s own past, of course, is an even easier retreat.
As the months slip out of my sixth decade and new crops of kids blossom around me, I can feel a bit crowded out of the now. I discover myself living more in memories.
And not even important ones. Moments become anecdotes. Incidents grow into adventures. Little emotional jewels from my young-man days are polished over and over.
Running pick-up at Sunset Rec Center, when I should have been in class at UC Berkeley, and I couldn’t miss. Every shot just snapped the net and I felt like a god. Quick, ask me anything, give me any problem. I can probably do some differential calculus. Right then, on the court that day, I had all answers.
Reading Jane Eyre in a kind couple’s house in Portland on a rare whole day off while traveling with the Pickle Family Circus, smelling the earth baking outside the window, gloriously indolent.
Sitting next to the exit on the 1-California. A woman steps down as the bus slows and gives me a tick of a smile as she goes out the doors. I watch her walk on the sidewalk as we pull away. Her curves are fish-hooks in my heart.
That last had to be 40 years ago, but somehow I still find myself riding that bus.
Ring the Bell
After reading my post on the bell-shape of the St. Mary’s Park neighborhood, Fred B. (F.O.W.) clued me into a feature I missed:
“[T]he ‘bell’ has its own clapper! There’s a little parklet where Justin Drive curves, at the southeast corner of the bell! It’s clearly visible on a map, but not on the WPA mural. You didn’t mention the “clapper” in your article (or maybe I just didn’t see it) so I thought, if you didn’t already know about it, you’d enjoy finding out about its existence.”
Cool! Thanks, Fred, and I hope you’re living it up on your European vacation.
Both Art S. (F.O.W.) and Tom P. noted that the SFO Museum has an iconic view of St. Mary’s Park, a 1979 painting by Robert Bechtle, San Francisco Nova:
Tom kindly provided a recent Google Street View link to Benton Avenue from the same angle:
Lawns gone, drought-resistant gardens in. Of course, there are more parked cars... Bechtle loved cars, but despite his photo-realist style, he may have cut a few out in 1979 for his composition.
Ring the Fire Bell… or Not
Alex Mullaney wrote a nice article for the San Francisco Standard on the not-good state of our distinctive emergency call boxes. My confessional quote at the end of the article refers to another memory of mine I can not shake.
The transgression of pulling the little lever and running like hell into Mountain Lake Park to hide (as if the fire department would immediately wink into existence) is a permanent blot on the conscience of this Catholic School Kid.
Shacks On the Move Again
After spending 40 years tucked behind the Presidio’s old Post Hospital, two refugee cottages from the aftermath of the 1906 earthquake and fire have been trucked west and set between old stables off McDowell Avenue.
Why? Well, a big restoration is underway for the Post Hospital, one of the oldest buildings in the Presidio, and the cottages were basically in the way.
The cottages had already moved at least twice before: once from the original refugee camp where they were constructed (likely where Park-Presidio Boulevard is in the Richmond District today) and then, after serving as a residence for 77 years on 34th Avenue next to the Pacific Cafe on Geary Boulevard, off to the Presidio.
Shack-tivist Jane Cryan got the Army to take the cottages when the owner wanted to build a bigger building on the 34th Avenue lot (and never did.)
Panels explaining their importance and history are in one cottage. The other is furnished as it would have been in a refugee camp.
When the Army departed and the post became a park in the 1990s, the Cryan-saved cottages were left as part of the Presidio’s patrimony.
Our national-park-in-the-city has an unusual governance arrangement between the National Park Service (NPS), which is responsible for interpretation, and an entity named the Presidio Trust, which manages and is responsible for all the properties (buildings).
Apparently the earthquake cottages are considered “artifacts” rather than buildings, so NPS has official custody. The Presidio Park Archives and Record Center is just across the road, so presumably the shacks await their official cataloging and filing under “S.”
Hopefully, the move sparks some attention, identifying a better permanent location, and active interpretation of the cottages.
In the past, they were usually only opened to the public on the anniversary of the April 18, 1906 earthquake.
Seamans’ Monument Down
One of two visible artifacts from the old City Cemetery in Lincoln Park was damaged recently:
Half of a cypress tree that stood beside the Ladies’ Seaman’s Friend Society obelisk came down in a recent windstorm and took the top of the zinc monument with it.
(As a Friend of Woody, you can read more about the history of City Cemetery and the monument in my 2022 San Francisco Story annual. I also have a few print copies left...)
The positive news is the cemetery was listed as a city landmark just a couple of years ago and the Seaman’s monument is one of the character-defining features to be maintained. The Recreation and Parks Department has been expeditious in investigating repair options. (Thank you, Rec & Park.)
While nothing is cheap these days, by my inexpert evaluation, it doesn’t look too daunting to bolt the darned top back on…
By the way, the nearby Legion of Honor museum will celebrate its centennial this November. So far I haven’t been successful in getting the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco to make any room for recognition of the more than 10,000 San Franciscans still buried under and around the 100-year-old institution.
Some memories are pointedly forgotten.
Woody Beer and Coffee Fund
Thanks to Karen E., Monique D., Keith D. (F.O.W.), and Dave F. (new F.O.W.!) for contributing to the fund that gives back. (But only in the form of beers and coffee.)
The second anniversary of this little story project of mine is approaching, and I kind of think the best part has been this after-thought tipping fund.
It forces me to be sociable, schedule time with interesting people, and overall, makes me a happier person.
You’re probably gonna have a beer, coffee, or tea soon anyway; why not let the fund buy it for you and we can talk about having late-night hash browns at Zim’s? Let me know when you’re free.