Category: Uncategorized

As I’ve mentioned in the past, I’ve read that Fisherman’s Wharf is the second most popular tourist attraction in California after Disneyland. They’re both closed now because of the necessary shelter in place order, basically in place around the world, due to the COVID19 virus. Well, I can’t go to Disneyland yet, but I can go to Fisherman’s Wharf. It’s lonely, sad, and depressing at times when I look back at the crowds that could often be annoying, (always excluding myself from being part of the annoying crowd, naturally) but it will be thriving again by summer, as our hopes and prayers wish and ask for. These are updates of updates I did of vintage pictures when Fisherman’s Wharf was the noisy and lively way it will be again soon, and this time we won’t mind all of the people so much, for awhile.

Looking down the end of Taylor Street toward Pier 45 in 1975: (Peter Stratmoen)

Looking toward the #9 Fishermen’s Grotto Restaurant in 1960: (opensfhistory.org)

Tourists viewing Alcatraz Island through telescopes near Pier 43 ½ in the 1970s:

Looking east from the northwest corner of Jefferson and Taylor Streets in the 1930s: The gas station across Taylor Street that was still there until the 1970s was originally designed to look like a ship. (National Maritime Museum at San Francisco)

WACs and soldiers working up an appetite in front of #9 Fishermen’s Grotto, looks like during the 1950s:

Lee Remick crosses Jefferson Street at Taylor to a taxicab that will take her to Candlestick Park for the denouement of the 1962 film ‘Experiment in Terror’.

Looking toward Ghirardelli Square from Hyde and Jefferson Streets in 1975 in a Peter Stratmoen photo: Hey, they’ve removed all of the trees that were in the updated picture I did in 2016.

Looking south along Taylor Street across Jefferson in the 1950s; The Wharf was still packed when I did my first update in December of 2018.

 

 

 

 

 

San Francisco, like the rest of the world, has extended the shelter in place order until at least May. It’s absolutely necessary during the COVID19 Pandemic. San Francisco, although still just as beautiful, is a lonelier city to visit now, but it does offer once-in-a-lifetime photo opportunities for a San Francisco aficionado.

I observe very little “social distancing” at Ocean Beach in 1948. (opensfhistory.org)

The Cliff House closed up tight and there’s still little parking in front. That’s because the Ocean Beach Parking Lot has been closed off and people are still going to the beach.

The Beach Chalet on the western edge of Golden Gate Park in 1963; now closed and quiet. (San Francisco Chronicle)

Alamo looking northeast toward the “Painted Ladies” after the 1906 Earthquake: (Vintage photo from the California Academy of Sciences)

The famous Lombard Street, between Hyde and Leavenworth Streets, is still open to traffic, but there are few cars or people visiting the tourist site. (opensfhistory.org)

The Hyde Street Gripless! The best portion of the entire cable car system looks even quieter than the old 1920s photo.

A closed and empty Golden Gate Bridge Promenade last Friday and in June of 1987 with me and some of my family: This area has changed a lot since then.

 

 

 

I got the idea for that title after reading yesterday’s article in the San Francisco Chronicle by the journalist Carl Nolte about George R Stewarts’s 1949 novel ‘Earth Abides’; a story about a worldwide virus that kills off most of the earth’s population leaving few survivors. I last read the book when I was about 18 and I don’t remember much about it accept that it was very depressing. Yesterday, I took BART into San Francisco for the first time after the Bay Area shelter in place order was issued to get some pictures along Market Street and that was depressing, as well. The afternoon before, I drove through a quiet San Francisco that, although empty, was still very beautiful. The following day, Market Street was a different experience. With most of the workers, shoppers and tourist gone now, Market Street is basically left to the street people, most of them far beyond any help. Maybe they’re always there, but just not as prominent among the usual crowd of people. With Market Street so quiet, you can hear them yelling and swearing for blocks. Many of them were a lot more aggressive than usual on Sunday, and I was fed up with them after about four blocks. These are a collection of vintage photos of a bustling Market Street that I’ve posted in the past, and updated with pictures of the relatively vacant and uncomfortable Market Street I walked along on Sunday.

Looking down Geary Blvd past Lotta’s Fountain during the 1930s: Lotta’s Fountain was not only taller then, but it was in a slightly different spot at the intersections of Geary Blvd, Kearny and Market Streets. The fountain was moved back to its original location in 1999.

Looking west on Market Street at Montgomery Street after the San Francisco Earthquake of 1906: You can see the old and new Palace Hotels and the Call Building on the left in both pictures. (San Francisco History Center)

A parade on Market Street at 4^th St in the 1920s: The crowned Call Building, today’s Central Tower, is in the background of both pictures. The thin Humboldt Building is on the right in both pictures.

Market Street at Grant Avenue in the 1940s: An American Werewolf in San Francisco!

VJ Day, celebrating the end of World War Two, at Grant Avenue and Market Street in August of 1945: (Vintage picture from the San Francisco History Center)

Market Street, across from the old Emporium Department store, during the 1930s: I saw several incidents of police having to deal with the street people during yesterday’s walk.

Powell Street Looking across Market Street toward the Emporium in 1971: The Flood Building is on the left in both pictures.

The cable car turnaround looking north on Powell Street in the 1950s: (Vintage Everyday)

A protest March on Market Street at 5^th looking toward the old Flood Building in 1966: (The Shorpy Archive)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is a brief update to my last overly optimistic post. Things have changed drastically in San Francisco and the rest of the world since two weeks ago. I left the office and took a drive around an empty San Francisco yesterday afternoon.

Broadway at Columbus Avenue:

Grant Avenue, North Beach: Even the Live Worms Shop was closed! (Whatever that is)

The silence even reaches up to the top of Telegraph Hill.

No trouble finding parking at a closed and quiet Coit Tower.

Looking down Montgomery Street from Telegraph Hill:

Fisherman’s Wharf, as dead as Elvis is:

The Liberty Ship Jeremiah O’Brien tucked in for the duration: If she could talk she’d probably say, “I braved Nazi submarines in the Atlantic Ocean, I’m not afraid of a little bug!”

A spooky and empty Chinatown: The crowds have all gone home.

 

 

 

Fear of the spreading coronavirus (COVID-19) has caused anxiety in people all over the world and San Francisco is no exemption. As of this writing, the Grand Princess cruise ship heading for San Francisco with thousands of passengers on board has been circling in the Pacific Ocean for days while officials decide on when and where to let the ship dock because 21 people on board have tested positive for the coronavirus and one passenger has died. I’ve been hearing reports of an alarming drop in tourism in San Francisco since the crises started. I myself have been developing a psychological disorder that I call incometaxitis that usually clears up after April 15^th, so I decided to get out of the office for a few hours today and go over to Chinatown to visit its deserted and quiet streets. I’m happy to say that “reports of (Chinatown’s) death have been greatly exaggerated”. There were just as many visitors as usual for early March, in fact, even more of a crowd today because of some type of festival going on with dragons and lots of fireworks that I caught the end of. I was thinking about another plague while I was there today, the San Francisco bubonic plague of 1900-1904 that quarantined Chinatown and caused 119 deaths. Although no origin of the plague has ever been established, it’s thought that the virus was carried to Chinatown from rats on board ships that had arrived from Asia, Chinatown was actually roped off for a time at California, Kearny, Broadway, and Stockton Streets to prevent people from leaving. These are a few then and nows I took on today’s visit along with a few pictures from Chinatown I’ve posted in the past. (Source of the San Francisco plague information, Wikipedia)

A cable car heading up Powell Street in the 1950’s: (The Charles Cushman Collection)

As I mentioned there was a noisy and fun-to-watch festival happening on Grant Avenue at Jackson Street when I got there.

Grant Avenue and Jackson Street in the early 1960s: It was in an old hotel at this intersection that the first victim of the 1900 plague died. (The San Francisco Pictures Blog)

Grant Avenue and California Street looking north in the 1940s:

Looking southeast on Grant Avenue and California Street at passengers boarding a cable car in the 1950s: (The San Francisco Pictures Blog)

The old Shanghai Low Restaurant on Grant Ave between California and Pine Streets in the 1960s: (The San Francisco Pictures Blog)

Grant Avenue looking north as it approaches Sacramento Street in the 1960s: (The San Francisco Pictures Blog)

The Chinese New Year Parade on Grant Avenue at Sacramento Street in the 1940s and the last time I attended the parade in 2017. It was reported that the crowd of parade watchers was considerably lower in February of 2020. I didn’t go this year, either; not because of the coronavirus, but because I’ve “been there, done that” too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

San Francisco is a city of hills, and walking around it can tire you out quickly. Herb Caen once said that if you get tired of walking around San Francisco you can always lean against it. These are some vintage pictures a few spots, most of them still around, where you could take a breather when those long days on your feet in San Francisco started to catch up with you.

The northwest corner at the Top of the Mark, “Weeper’s Corner”, looks like the 1940’s or early 1950’s: “Weeper’s Corner” got its nickname during World War Two when mothers, wives and sweethearts sat in this corner watching their loved ones sail off to the Pacific Theater of the war. The Top of the Mark is still a special place to take a break; visitors are no longer required to dress up to come up here, and as far as I know, weeping in this corner is still allowed.

The old Redwood Room at the Clift Hotel, seen here in the 1950s, is another historic place to relax with a cold one and try to forget about all of the money you’re spending on your visit to San Francisco. (hippostcard.com)

Checking out a flick on Market Street to get away from it all, like here at the State Theater at 4^th and Market Streets in 1952, isn’t going to work anymore; all of the theaters in this area have been demolished. (tumblr.com)

Now, if you really want to make it a special afternoon, lunch in the Garden Court of the Palace Hotel is one of the best ideas for a breather; although, sometimes it’s prettier and cheaper just to sneak upstairs and take a picture of the hotel court. (ebay)

A relaxing cable car ride at Powell and Market Streets might bring the energy back to your feet, but the problem is that the wait standing in the long line to catch a car can sometimes be longer than the walk you took around San Francisco.

Hotels like the Fairmont, St. Francis, and here at the Sir Francis Drake lobby, seen here in 1928 in the vintage picture, usually don’t mind visitors sitting awhile to relax in their lobbies. Sometimes, they even encourage people to stop and browse on occasions like holidays. (North Point Press)

And if you need a long rest, you can catch a play at the Geary Theater on Geary St.. near Mason Street, seen here in 1910, the year the theater opened. The Curran Theater, west of the Geary Theater, had not been built yet in the vintage picture. (San Francisco Theaters / blogspot.com)

The Geary and Curran Theaters looking west in 1958: Notice what was playing at the Curran Theater. (blogspot.com)

“He’s a what?”

“He’s a what?”

“He’s a Music Man!”

I’ll pause for five seconds while movie buffs spot what’s going on here….. Joel Cairo (Peter Lorre) in attempting to search the office of Sam Spade (Humphrey Bogart) in the 1941 film ‘The Maltese Falcon’ is knocked out by Spade. In searching through the pockets of the unconscious Cairo, Spade finds, among other things, that Joel will be attending a play that evening at the Geary Theater. This was where Cairo was planning on being that night in the novel by Dashiell Hammett, as well. (Flare Books / Richard Anobile)

Executive Order Number 9066, signed by Franklin D. Roosevelt on February 19^th, 1942, forced Japanese citizens on the West Coast to leave their homes and businesses for internment after Pearl Harbor in fear that some may create acts of sabotage in support of Japan’s military machine. The Japanese owners of this business on Grant Avenue south of Pine Street in Chinatown, (there were several Japanese owned businesses on Grant Avenue between California and Bush Streets in 1942) are selling off as much of their inventory as possible before being relocated. Ironically, their shop was the one with the green BLOWOUT SALE sign in the window behind the California flag in my update.

These are comparison pictures of snapshots that I took in the early to mid 1980s. Most of the pictures I shot around San Francisco back then were slides, but these are scans of prints that I took and they don’t transfer to computers as clearly as slides do, but they’re not bad. We’ll start at the Ferry Building, and like Alfred Hitchcock, we’ll head “north by northwest”.

South of the Ferry Building, around 1984: I was standing in the shadow of the Embarcadero Freeway. Looks like I got here close to the same time as I did thirty six years ago. They’re doing some work on the south wing of the Ferry Building lately, but I haven’t had a chance to find out what that’s all about yet.

The Embarcadero just south of Levi Plaza around 1985: Although the old Belt Line Trains were long gone by then, the tracks still ran down the Embarcadero all the way to China Basin. The Embarcadero Freeway, where it stopped at Broadway, is in the center. One of the buildings the Exploratorium is housed in now is on the far left.

Pier 33, on the left, on a rainy day: I’m not sure when I took this picture; some of those cars look newer than the 1980’s. Might have been in the 1990’s; neither one of those decades seems that long ago to me! I remember the Peer Inn Restaurant, though; it was where the restaurant with the pink awning is now.

I had to do a little detective work to locate where I took these two photos. They were taken around 1985. I wasn’t even sure if I took them on the same day, but Hyde Street coming down Russian Hill in the second picture was my guideline. They were both taken from the second deck of the old ferryboat the Eureka at the Historical Hyde Street Pier. I was able to find the same spot I took my old pictures from on a visit to the Eureka last Saturday; maybe the first time I’ve been on board that old ferryboat since then. The top one, of course, is looking toward Telegraph Hill, the bottom one is Russian Hill, with a close up of Hyde Street where the cable cars plunge down from the top of the hill.

I took the top picture in 1985; some vistas don’t change much with the passing of time.

 

 

 

 

 

{San Francisco

Monday, July 13^th

Arrived in port: Stmr. Araby, Captain Jarvis; general cargo from New Orleans and Gulf ports.

Docked at Pier 43.

S. F. Shipping Guide}

{In silence, Greg turned. Yes, he understood only too well! He had heard enough tales about the San Francisco waterfront to know that there was truth in the man’s statement. He recalled stories of bodies found floating in the bay, with marks of violence upon them; stories of men picked up in dark nooks along the dockside, men barely breathing – all of them crimes rarely cleared up.}

Doesn’t paint a rosy picture of the Embarcadero in 1937 when Howard Pease wrote his mystery ‘Foghorns’, does it? And it wasn’t inaccurate at all! Violence, sabotage, labor unrest, and the always pending threat of a longshoremen strike made the San Francisco waterfront an uneasy and often dangerous area. At night when the fog came in sailors and longshoremen often had to be very cautious on a shore leave. Howard Pease’s book is filled with descriptions of the color, flavor, and mystery of what it must have been like along the Embarcadero back then, and there are also a number of references to historical incidents that had and were occurring around San Francisco at that time. So put on a pair of dungarees, throw a duffel bag over your shoulder, and listen to the foghorns as we explore the Port of San Francisco and other locations in the city described in passages from the book, (in brackets) and I’ll include vintage and updated pictures of the long-ago San Francisco the author writes about.

The main character is Gregory Richards, eighteen years old and down-and-out, trying to get a job on one of the many ships docked along the Embarcadero in 1936. His two main troubles are a pending waterfront strike, and the fact that none of the ship crews are willing to hire someone who hasn’t shipped out and hasn’t had ship sailing experience. He meets a fellow named John Brant who is willing to sell him a phony discharge certificate proving he has had sea experience and tells him where a ship named the SS Araby, that will hire him if he’s willing to cross a picket line, is docked.

{“She’s tied up at Pier 43. Go straight along the Embarcadero to Fisherman’s Wharf.” Well, she sounded all right to him. He picked up the two bags, and stuck off through the fog toward Pier 43.}

The illustration of Greg applying for work on the Araby  is from the 1948 reprint of ‘Foghorns’ that I bought.

Before Richards runs into John Brant, he is warned of the dangers along the waterfront by a gentleman at a sailor’s hiring hall, particularly for strike breakers. When Richards inquires about police protection, the fellow tells him,

{“The police? Say, the cops is lucky not to get beat up too. Why? Because the police shot down two unarmed seamen out on strike. Shot ‘em down right here on the sidewalk. Left ‘em lying with their blood dripping into the gutter.” The man looked down as if he could see two outstretched bodies at his feet.}

This man is referring to the famous  July 5^th 1934 “Bloody Thursday” incident where police fired into a crowd of striking longshoremen at the intersection of Steuart  and Mission Street, hitting three men, two of whom died. A shrine was established in the following days at the southeast corner of Steuart and Mission where two of the victims crawled to, seen in the top pictures.

The spot where the previous two pictures were taken today:

There is a marker describing the incident on a building at Steuart and Mission Streets today.

The “Bloody Thursday” incident is still commemorated today on the sidewalk in front of the Longshoremen’s Hall on North Point Street.

Greg counts the piers as he walks from Mission Street to Pier 43.

{On his right hand rose a line of great covered piers, silent and dark, their immense doors closed for the night. He counted them as he went along. Pier 29 – the Luckenbach Steamship Company. Pier 31 – the Oriental Line. Pier 33 – the American-Hawaiian SS Company. Even their names spelled romance.}

The above top photo is a close-up portion of these same piers from  David Rumsey’s incredible aerial collage of San Francisco taken in 1938, one year after ‘Foghorns’ was written. The bottom picture is at this stretch of Embarcadero piers from ground level nowadays.

Having been discouraged by the picketers in front of Pier 43, Greg requests assistance from a police officer watching from across the street to cross through the picket line and board the Araby.

{“Just a seaman going on board the Araby, boys. No trouble, now.”

“Okay.” one of the men nodded, grinning.}

Pier 43 is the pier on the left in Davis Rumsey’s aerial photo from 1938. The round buildings at the bottom of the photo were the large gas tanks that were there from the 1930s until the 1960’s.

The top vintage picture above from opensfhistory.org is Pier 43 with a ship docked there in 1939. The picture below it I took looking through Pier 43 toward the Liberty Ship Jeremiah O’Brien:

Greg is hired on to the crew of the Araby, but shortly after, an arsonist fire is started in the cargo hold. A series of clues leads Richards to believe that John Brant, who gave him his phony discharge certificate, is involved. He confesses to Captain Jarvis, master of the freighter, and Third Mate, Tod Moran in order to warn them of his suspicions. Partly because of his honesty, and partly because he can identify John Brant, they keep him on the crew. They leave the ship to search the waterfront for John Brant.

{Seated ten minutes later beside Third Mate Moran, Greg looked out the window at the dark Embarcadero speeding past. Telegraph Hill came into view, its top obscured by a bank of fog. They over took a freight train of the Belt Line rumbling toward the Ferry Building, then it fell away in their wake and only the low throb of their motor was audible.}

Above is a Belt Line Engine on the Embarcadero at Lombard Street in the early 1950s. (blogspot.com)

The Ferry Building is mentioned often in ‘Foghorns’.

{Almost before he knew it their cab had speed through the underpass at Market Street and was drawing up at a corner beyond. Tod Moran looked up through the rear window at the clock on the tower of the Ferry Building. “Five after eleven. I’m afraid we’ll never find him.”}

The underpass along the Embarcadero allowed traffic to duck under the streetcar turnaround in front of the Ferry Building. In the vintage photo above you can see traffic emerging from the underpass past the Ferry Building near Mission Street.

Richards, Moran, and Captain Jarvis go back to the waterfront hotel where Brant sold Richards his phony discharge certificate on the corner of Mission Street at the Embarcadero and called the Bay View Hotel, and break into a room Brant was occupying when they made the sale looking for clues. They find a message that leads them to believe Brant will be meeting a confederate at the Canton Low Restaurant in Chinatown.

{“That’s it.” Tod Moran was jubilant. “The Canton Low is a famous restaurant in Chinatown where everybody goes. Brant made his appointment with his accomplice. It’s where they’ll meet tomorrow night.”}

They would have been referring to the old Shanghai Low Restaurant on Grant Avenue between California and Pine Streets. When they go to the meeting spot the following evening, Greg gets his first look at Chinatown.

{“Why, this must be just like China.” Greg’s voice was filled with enthusiasm as he rejoined the two men. “Look at that balcony up there.” His gaze was fixed with rapt attention upon a tall building across the street, its pagoda tower rising into the fog above. Even the street lamps, he noticed, were of oriental design; they were patterns of intricate beauty.}

But John Brant, sensing a trap bolts out the back door of the restaurant, as Greg takes after him. He follows Brant out to St. Mary’s Square at Quincy Street.

{When he reached the end of the buildings he stopped. Facing him was a small park, lighted by a single lamp in its center. It was surrounded on three sides by the dark rear walls of buildings. All at once he came to a halt. Far down the alley someone was running from a lighted doorway.}

Above is an old postcard of St. Mary’s Square and old St. Mary’s Church. Behind the statue of Sun Yat-sen is Quincy Street.

Throughout the book is mentioned a foreboding possibility of another waterfront strike like the one in 1934 that shut down the entire San Francisco waterfront. In 1937, Longshoremen led by Harry Bridges were establishing a union along the San Francisco waterfront that was opposed by many ship company owners. In August of 1937 they founded the International Longshore and Warehouse Union. This 1937 picture from opensfhistory.org shows longshoremen gathering in front of Pier 15.

{The hotel clerk slowly shook his head. He was a young fellow with blue eyes, a freckled face, and pale-red hair. His tone was sympathetic. “All this talk about a strike, you know. It’s brought men here from the back country looking for jobs.”

“Strike breakers, eh?”

“Well, you know how it is.” The clerk glanced uneasily down the corridor.}

Greg Richards was one of those “strike breakers”, but during the course of the book, he eventually becomes sympathetic to the longshoremen.

I’ll close with another reference in the book to an historical San Francisco Incident taking place when the book was written. In October of 1936, the cargo ship the SS Ohioan ran aground on the rocks near the Sutro Bathhouse and the Cliff House. The crew, much of the cargo, and parts of the ship were salvaged, but in March of 1937 the ship caught fire and was eventually smashed to pieces by the surf. The photo above is an aerial view of the Cliff House and Sutro’s Bathhouse showing the stranded SS Ohioan at the upper left. (ebay)

{“I know.” Greg sighed. “I went out to the Cliff House the other day to see the big freighter that’s piled up there on the rocks. In a way, I feel as if I were headed for the rocks, too.”}

A closer look at the stranded Ohioan and the area behind Sutro’s where she ran aground: (Vintage photo from worthpoint.com)

 

 

 

 

 

The weekend before the 2013 Superbowl I went over to San Francisco to check out some of the 49er spirit on display for the Niners first visit to the big game since 1995. For the most part the City’s doing it up again when I went over there last night and took the F Line Streetcars from the Ferry Building to the bottom of Telegraph Hill and back again along Market Street to City Hall.

The old Southern Pacific Building on Market Street is getting into the fun, but the Ferry Building, all aglow in red in 2013, didn’t change its color this time.

The sidewalk lights on the Embarcadero, (Herb Caen Way) were changed to red back in 2013 and you could stand in the glow. No red sidewalk lights at Pier 1 this time. “I wore a younger man’s clothes” back then. Oh, wait; those are the same clothes I was wearing last Sunday!

The Billy Graham Civic Auditorium is in gold and red this year.

I got a fuzzy picture of City Hall on that January Saturday night in 2013 and another last night. It’s not that I’m a better photographer since seven years ago; I just have a better camera now.

A MUNI bus coming along Post Street in January, 2013: We won’t see that this year.

Gotta love that red and gold Coit Tower from last night in the video below.