Alone in a Crowd

#172: Arrival in San Francisco; SF Film Noir, I-Hotel, City Lights, Ambeth Ocampo, Paul Maedje, Lata 65, Anderson & Solnit, Hilma Wolitzer, Matthew Victor Pastor, Jack Kerouac, and Miles Davis.

THEN & NOW

Thanks to everyone who responded to my query about A Crooked Mile. I’m still considering the options.

Ink drawing of Tong Association offices above Jackson Square, San Francisco Chinatown, early 1990s. Note: I was using the pseudonym “Okir” at the time..

My mother’s arrival in San Francisco wasn’t exactly the romantic reunion she would’ve wished for. Her new husband was away at sea, probably worrying about her arrival. Fortunately, he had arranged for his friends Pilar and Paul to meet Mom at the pier. They were wonderful people who would one day become my godparents.

Mom in the middle, Paul on the left and Pilar on the right, with two of their children.

I don’t know exactly what happened on Mom’s first day in the U.S. I suspect that she met Pilar and Paul with their two small children at the pier, and that they took her to Chinatown. Then, they accompanied her up the steep, narrow stairs to the small apartment that would be her new address at the San Marcos Hotel. It’s likely that they took her to lunch, since her new home was near many restaurants and eateries. It was autumn, and though that season is usually warm in San Francisco, the climate was still much cooler than the heat and humidity of the tropical Philippines.

Perhaps Pilar and Paul helped her to purchase food, pointing out the best produce stores and markets. They likely introduced her to Gonzalo, Dad’s friend who managed the San Marcos. The apartments did not include kitchens. You had to use the shared kitchen across the hall.

Then, at some point, they left her on her own—in a new country and a new city, far from her large family, but with several new friends who would help her.

I’m thankful they were there for her. But I wonder if she cried herself to sleep after they left. I remember visiting the San Marcos when I was a kid, and it was not a welcoming abode.¹ The stairs and hallways were narrow, dark, and daunting. It felt like a tenement.

Mom did, however, have an independent streak. She had already learned from her own mother that you couldn’t always count on a man; you have be willing to do hard things yourself. When my maternal grandmother separated from my grandfather—after which he emmigrated to Kansas—she made ends meet by running a small vegetable farm and selling her produce in the palenke with only her children to help. Many years later, just before WWII, the family would move to Manila.

Mom (left) and her sister Dading (right). The photo was taken during the period when Mom ran a beauty parlor business in Manila.

At least—thank goodness—San Francisco’s Chinatown would’ve been as busy and bustling as many of Manila’s urban neighborhoods. San Francisco, like Manila, was a port city. The two landmark churches of Saint Francis of Assisi and Saints Peter and Paul were just around the corner, one on each side of Washington Square park. The sound of their bells must’ve been comforting, reminiscent of home and Manila’s many churches.

Always fashion-conscious, Mom is on the rooftop of the San Marcos, wearing her Katherine Hepburn baggy slacks and “let’s get to work“ shirt. Coit Tower can be seen in the distance.

I’m hoping that it was a wonderful adventure for Mom to go shopping the next day. Her new home bordered the Italian community of North Beach. Two years later, Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Peter D. Martin would found City Lights bookstore, just a block and a half away. Piccola Cafe, which would become Caffe Trieste² in 1956, was within walking distance. She was also near the International Hotel, which housed mostly older male Filipino immigrants—a building that would become the site of a resistance by over 2000 protestors when the city threatened to evict its elderly residents in 1977.

I would never know San Francisco in the same way my father new it. It was his “home port” where he had lived for many years; he had many friends in Manilatown and Chinatown. I “see” it through various lenses—mid-century film noir, Beat culture, the hippie “summer of love,” friends’ stories about Chinatown and the I-Hotel, and my own visits to the city during 1960s-1990s for shopping trips and entertainment (the latter especially when I lived in Berkeley). The few personal memories from my earliest days in the city are from a small child’s point of view: the dark stairway leading up to the apartments at the San Marco Hotel; my father and Gonzalo chatting; a trip to buy shoes at Buster Brown’s; a view of two men fighting in a ring when Dad took me to a boxing match at Garibaldi Hall.³

Our move to Santa Cruz would take Mom out of the familiar bustling urban milieu to a small resort town, and drastically change our lives.

This Bread & Cinemas video about noir thrillers set in San Francisco focuses on Woman on the Run (1950), which was filmed in Chinatown and North Beach. I was surprised to see, at 5:51 (about halfway through), a scene shot on the waterfront, where the S.S. President Cleveland is docked—the ship that brought my mother to San Francisco in 1950!⁴

Digital sketch that I did of San Francisco Chinatown, in the neighborhood near where my parents and I lived (from Google Maps).

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RABBIT HOLE

• More on the International Hotel incident, with commentary by historian/activists Estella Habal and Emil de Guzman:

• A History of City Lights Books through the eyes of its long-time book-buyer, Paul Yamazaki:

• Public historian Ambeth Ocampo’s books:

• Paul Maedje has been the legendary lead barista of Caffe Trieste for over 30 years; it was where he met his husband, Karsten:

• Lata 65 is a graffiti artist: “Gangs of very nasty old ladies: that’s my crew”

• Laurie Anderson and Rebecca Solnit’s response to the 2024 Election:

• Hilma Wolitzer: “That Ironic Twist of Age: What it’s like to keep writing at 91.”

• Filmmaker Matthew Victor Pastor returned to the Philippines after six years; he was making a “sad vlog,” and then something happened:

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SOUNDINGS

• “Générique ,” composed and performed by Miles Davis for the film Ascenceur Pour L'échafaud.

• “San Francisco Scene” written and narrated by Jack Kerouac:

Sincere appreciation to all of you who read Eulipion Outpost regularly, and to those who have subscribed here or donated on my Ko-fi page to support my efforts.

My ongoing appreciation goes to the Mysterious M. for his editing.

Website and blog: Jeanvengua1.wordpress.com

A Crooked Mile (blog).

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1. When I was born, my parents were living in a different building around the corner on Vallejo St.

2. Caffe Trieste was the first espresso house in San Francisco.

3. I mention Garibaldi Hall for its proximity to North Beach, but it’s possible this may have occurred at the Olympic Club. I’m not sure!

4. This was confirmed in a Wikipedia post. And it turns out that the ship also appeared in other films: Susan Slade (1961), The Seaport (1962), and Tokyo Bay (Live Today, Die Tomorrow!, 1970).