The Grande Dame of San Francisco Union Square Hotels At the turn of the century, the guardians of the Charles Crocker family announced plans to build The Westin St. Francis. Their vision was to make San Francisco the "Paris of the West," and their stunning Union Square San Francisco hotel would be their flagship. After studying all of Europe's grand hotels - from those in Berlin, Vienna, and Monaco to Claridge's in London and The Ritz in Paris - construction on the original St. Francis began. Two years and $2.5 million later, on March 21, 1904, the doors of The St. Francis opened. By seven o'clock that evening, a line of carriages and automobiles stretching three blocks waited to approach her brightly lit towers. The hotel became so popular that within six months, the owners announced plans to add a third wing, two floors of apartments, and a ballroom. The St. Francis had become the center of the city's social, literary, and artistic life. After the Great Earthquake of 1906, the square was dubbed "Little St. Francis" because of the temporary shelter erected for residents of The St. Francis. Documented records of the opening were lost in the fire that destroyed the interior of the hotel's original 250 rooms following the earthquake. Within 40 days of the inferno, a temporary hotel of 110 rooms was erected in a court around the Dewey Monument in Union Square, and The St. Francis continued as a focal point of the city. The hotel refurbished its interior and re-opened late in 1907, with 450 guest rooms. A third wing opened in 1908, and further additions followed on Post Street - making The St. Francis the largest hotel on the Pacific Coast. Construction of the 32-story Pacific Tower began early in 1969 - opened in 1971 - adding a vast new complex of guest rooms, suites, and venues and banquet facilities. The spirit of the 'whole generation with a new explanation', as McKenzie and Phillips put it, was centred on San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury, a low-rent district next to Golden Gate Park. It was a laboratory for alternative lifestyles, and during 1967 an estimated 100,000 young people headed there in the hopes of enlightenment, freedom and a cheap place to crash. Despite McKenzie's unease,'The Summer of Love' was not a journalistic invention. The phrase was coined by a local activist group, The Council for a Summer of Love. In April 1967 it announced: 'This summer, the youth of the world are making a holy pilgrimage to our city, to affirm and celebrate a new spiritual dawn --the activity of the youth of the nation which has given birth to Haight-Ashbury is a small part of a worldwide spiritual awakening.' Haight-Ashbury today is more psychedelic supermarket than holy city, the hippy vibe kept alive by souvenir stores that sell postcards reading Having A Groovy Time In Haight-Ashbury and tobacconists who stock exotic glass pipes next to warning signs that say Intended For Legal Use Only. The change is hardly surprising. We are now as far away from the events of the Summer of Love as the original hippies were from the release of Al Jolson's The Jazz Singer, the first movie to use speech. The Grateful Dead are to Haight-Ashbury what The Beatles are to Liverpool. True to themselves, egalitarian, exploratory, they exemplified the spirit of the time and place. Jerry Garcia is still the most prevalent poster image in the stores on Haight Street. Even local fire trucks carry Grateful Dead stickers. Other bands lived in the area. Jefferson Airplane bought a colonial-style mansion in 1968 across the road from Golden Gate Park at 2400 Fulton Street and Big Brother and the Holding Company got together with Janis Joplin at 1090 Page Street. Izu said that Jimi Hendrix briefly lived in an apartment over 1524 Haight Street (now The Tobacco Centre) which was a haven for draft-dodgers. Almost all the Haight Street stores from 1967 have gone. The Psychedelic Shop, the original drug paraphernalia store, has been replaced by Fat Slice Pizza. The premises of the multicoloured underground newspaper The Oracle have become Recycled Records. The Drogstore Cafe, a favourite hippy hangout, is now the Magnolia Pub and Brewery. The more overtly political counterpart to Haight Street is Telegraph Avenue, over the Bay Bridge in Berkeley. The story of this strip in the Sixties is currently being told in a black-and-white photo display in the window of Rasputin Music (2403 Telegraph). It shows police firing tear gas, students putting flowers down the barrels of National Guard rifles, sit-ins and Martin Luther King preaching Civil Rights. Today things are tranquil. The steps of Sproul Plaza, where the Free Speech Movement started in 1964, are deserted and, judging by the nearby notice boards, today's students are more interested in clubbing than being clubbed. Telegraph Avenue, like Haight Street,has become a haven for collectors of tie-dye T-shirts and small scales for weighing smoking materials.
Houses in Haight-Ashbury now sell for upwards of $1,500,000 The hippie subculture was originally a youth movement that began in the United States during the early 1960s and spread around the world. The word hippie derives from hipster, and was initially used to describe beatniks who had moved into San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury district. These people inherited the countercultural values of the Beat Generation, created their own communities, listened to psychedelic rock, embraced the sexual revolution, and used drugs such as cannabis and LSD to explore alternative states of consciousness. In January 1967, the Human Be-In in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco popularized hippie culture, leading to the legendary Summer of Love on the West Coast of the United States, and the 1969 Woodstock Festival on the East Coast. | I left my heart in San Francisco: Touring the vibrant city that inspired a song I came to San Francisco in search of a new life. Well, not the song itself - that was already on my plans- but the cityscape that inspired me and the sweet flower people in their new awakening. Released almost half a century ago by Tony Bennett, I Left My Heart In San Francisco is one of the most evocative city anthems ever recorded. In 1964, it was picked up by the San Francisco Convention and Visitors Bureau to add a musical punch to its campaigns. Five years later, it became one of two official city songs (the other being San Francisco from the 1936 film of the same name). Ablaze with newness and vitality: San Francisco's bright skyline framed by the Oakland Bay Bridge To immerse myself in the song, there was only one place I could stay - the Fairmont Hotel, where Bennett first performed it during a concert series in December 1961. It was also conveniently 'high on a hill' and very close to the cable cars. A San Francisco landmark for over a century, the five-star Fairmont has no shortage of claims to fame. It was the HQ for those reconstructing the city after the 1906 earthquake, which struck on the day the hotel was due to open, and is where the United Nations Charter was drafted in 1945. Its list of celebrity guests reads like a Who's Who of the 20th Century. Yet in its Heritage Hall - a long corridor decked with framed hotel memorabilia - the sheet music to I Left My Heart In San Francisco and a black-and-white photo of Tony Bennett playing in its Venetian Room hang alongside images of princesses and presidents. The Fairmont is justly proud of its unique association with the song. City song: I left my Heart in San Francisco was a huge hit for Tony Bennett and the city itself Affixed to the base of the low but wide stage where Bennett once stood is a brass plaque that reads: 'Tony Bennett Time Capsule. To commemorate the restoration of The Fairmont San Francisco, Mr Bennett placed a time capsule containing personal mementos in the stage of the Venetian Room where he first sang I Left My Heart In San Francisco in 1962 [sic].' It is dated October 19, 1999. One of the items in the capsule is a red Baccarat heart from Tiffany & Co given to the singer by Liza Minnelli. 'It was pure nostalgia. We missed the warmth and openness of the people and the beauty. We never really took to New York.' 'New York is a hard, ruthless city. It lives on the edge of terror and catastrophe. New York is tired. San Francisco has newness and vitality.' High on a hill: The Fairmont Hotel where Bennett first sang his hit The song was recorded at CBS Studios on 30th Street on January 23, 1962, and released as the B side of Once Upon A Time. DJs, however, preferred I Left My Heart In San Francisco and it became a hit. An album with the same title followed. 'That song helped make me a world citizen,' said Bennett. 'It allowed me to live, work and sing in any city on the globe. It changed my whole life.' I had decided to explore San Francisco using the song as my guidebook. The Fairmont was a good place to start. From my 17th-floor window I could see the city laid out like a menu of tourist attractions, from Golden Gate Bridge to Alcatraz Island. Yet, as everybody knows, San Francisco isn't really a city 'high on a hill' as the song suggests. It is a city on many hills, ranging from the 100ft Rincon Hill to the 925ft Mount Davidson. Surprisingly the exact number of hills is still a matter of dispute - if there is a hill on top of a hill, does that make one big hill or two small ones? The official count is 43 (44 if you consult Wikipedia), but San Francisco hill-lover Tom Graham, currently attempting to walk every street in the city, claims to have found hitherto unrecognised hills that would bring the total to more than 50. The most accessible hill for looking over the city is Twin Peaks (922ft), charmingly known as Los Pechos de la Choca (The Breasts of the Indian Maiden) by early Spanish settlers. There is only a viewing terrace and a telecommunications mast on top but the view across the city and over the water to Oakland and Berkeley is unparalleled, as is the tranquillity. Heady heights: A cable car scrambles up one of San Francisco's many steep streets with Alcatraz Island in the background Next on the song's tick list were the little cable cars that 'climb halfway to the stars'. No matter how many times you've ridden them, these cars, with their sounds of bells and grinding Victorian machinery, always provide a kick. And the route that runs closest to The Fairmont, the Hyde Street line, happens to be the one that will get you closest to the stars. Its steepest gradient, 21 per cent, is the sharpest on the system. Another first for me was visiting the Cable Car Barn Museum at 1201 Mason. This building, which houses some examples of cars from the early days, is still the powerhouse of the system. From the mezzanine you can see the engines and wheels that wind the cables through the subterranean channels and pulleys. Although the song doesn't introduce the most obvious San Franciscan image - the Golden Gate Bridge - it does mention the 'morning fog', which best displays its dramatic power as it rolls under and over the familiar rust-coloured structure. Indeed, it was a photo of a fog-wreathed bridge that graced the cover of Bennett's I Left My Heart In San Francisco album in 1962. The ideal place to see the bridge in all its glory is from Crissy Field, a recently restored waterfront recreation area that begins not too far from Fisherman's Wharf and ends at Fort Point. And the best way to explore Crissy Field is by bike (hire from Blazing Saddles outside Pier 41). It's a beautiful ride through a peaceful area of promenade, sand dunes and reclaimed marsh. On my way out, the fog was but a wisp. By the time I was halfway back, only the tops of the bridge's towers were visible. It can happen that quickly. The one remaining image from the song was the 'blue and windy sea'. To experience this, I went on an hour-long cruise of the bay that took me from Pier 39, where sea lions bask in the sun on floating platforms, down to Golden Gate Bridge and back again via Alcatraz. It was all I needed to confirm that the sea is indeed blue and the wind is windy. In for a chill: The city's fog, seen engulfing the Golden Gate Bridge, is infamous |