On & Off Chestnut Street
Just a walk down Chestnut Street
October 2011
Just a walk down Chestnut Street
October 2011
It always amazes me how Chestnut Street keeps changing – and changes so rapidly – yet the neighborhood still embraces some of the old qualities that appealed to the people who loved it years ago.
I’ve been around long enough to recall when you would hear more Italian than English spoken on the 30 Stockton bus; when people seemed to look out for their neighbors. I still drop into Lucca’s to have impure thoughts about the prosciutto. Now there are shops that sell cupcakes only, gawd bless them. Never a really wealthy enclave, the Marina was a working class section of town that arose from the 1906 earthquake and prevailed over the Loma Prieta disaster many years later. The Marina emerged bravely and stood her land-filled ground in determined fashion. Precariously, perhaps, but resolved.
Sure, the rents got outrageously higher later on – San Francisco became a theme park for millionaires. But the stalwart and stubborn Marina District loyalists didn’t give up. At least not easily.
Stubborn is a good description. I’ve been reading the postings by the Marina people on Facebook lately. They’re militant, they’re forceful. Listen: They will give the Arab Spring a run for its money. Or is that the Pakistani dinar? At least we still have a good dinar on Lombard, named Mel’s. Gary Ferrari loved cheap jokes like that. Well, he seemed to tolerate mine at least.
When Gary Ferrari died the other day, there was a wellspring of praise from the Marina and a cascade of accolades. I liked Gary – gruff, unsentimental, yet kind. I knew Gary when he owned the old Pierce Street Annex – that’s where the MatrixFillmore is these days. Gary, a real, authentic local and a lifelong North Beach resident, was dedicated to the notion that San Francisco – particularly the Marina District – had to have live music. I recall that open bar on Fillmore – open in the sense that there were benches on the sidewalk – where I got to hear the last strains of the old San Francisco sound. One Sunday afternoon, The Beau Brummels came in to play live. You know, Just A Little … Laugh, Laugh … “I’ll cry just a little ’cause I have to go away …”
Even Anna Nicole Smith dropped by to hang for a little while with the Hell’s Angels at the Pierce Street Annex. Odd to see the Hell’s Angels seemingly worried about a gorgeous young lassie. But they were. Gosh, Anna, who had a mad crush on Gavin Newsom at the time, was so tall and, well … never mind the rest. I guess her vulnerability reached into the most cynical of hearts. It may have reminded us that we still had some semblance of heart.
Chris Sullivan, the retired SFPD detective, was a great Marina character who would hold court at the Marina Lounge. He died the other day of cancer. A really nice chap.
Yes, they are gone, but they still add to what this unusual outpost, this Marina on the San Francisco Bay, is all about. The different people here certainly have made all the difference.
Jim Maxwell will return next month. E-mail: [email protected]
I’ve been around long enough to recall when you would hear more Italian than English spoken on the 30 Stockton bus; when people seemed to look out for their neighbors. I still drop into Lucca’s to have impure thoughts about the prosciutto. Now there are shops that sell cupcakes only, gawd bless them. Never a really wealthy enclave, the Marina was a working class section of town that arose from the 1906 earthquake and prevailed over the Loma Prieta disaster many years later. The Marina emerged bravely and stood her land-filled ground in determined fashion. Precariously, perhaps, but resolved.
Sure, the rents got outrageously higher later on – San Francisco became a theme park for millionaires. But the stalwart and stubborn Marina District loyalists didn’t give up. At least not easily.
Stubborn is a good description. I’ve been reading the postings by the Marina people on Facebook lately. They’re militant, they’re forceful. Listen: They will give the Arab Spring a run for its money. Or is that the Pakistani dinar? At least we still have a good dinar on Lombard, named Mel’s. Gary Ferrari loved cheap jokes like that. Well, he seemed to tolerate mine at least.
When Gary Ferrari died the other day, there was a wellspring of praise from the Marina and a cascade of accolades. I liked Gary – gruff, unsentimental, yet kind. I knew Gary when he owned the old Pierce Street Annex – that’s where the MatrixFillmore is these days. Gary, a real, authentic local and a lifelong North Beach resident, was dedicated to the notion that San Francisco – particularly the Marina District – had to have live music. I recall that open bar on Fillmore – open in the sense that there were benches on the sidewalk – where I got to hear the last strains of the old San Francisco sound. One Sunday afternoon, The Beau Brummels came in to play live. You know, Just A Little … Laugh, Laugh … “I’ll cry just a little ’cause I have to go away …”
Even Anna Nicole Smith dropped by to hang for a little while with the Hell’s Angels at the Pierce Street Annex. Odd to see the Hell’s Angels seemingly worried about a gorgeous young lassie. But they were. Gosh, Anna, who had a mad crush on Gavin Newsom at the time, was so tall and, well … never mind the rest. I guess her vulnerability reached into the most cynical of hearts. It may have reminded us that we still had some semblance of heart.
Chris Sullivan, the retired SFPD detective, was a great Marina character who would hold court at the Marina Lounge. He died the other day of cancer. A really nice chap.
Yes, they are gone, but they still add to what this unusual outpost, this Marina on the San Francisco Bay, is all about. The different people here certainly have made all the difference.
Jim Maxwell will return next month. E-mail: [email protected]
