ARE YOU GOING TO SAN FRANSISCO?
I literally didn't know that I was!
I think the date was November 7, 1988. At 4:30 in the morning, I was standing at the gate of the Charleston Coast Guard station with my bags packed, waiting for a taxi to take me to the airport. As I explained in my previous post, my commanding officer on the Rambler had recommended that I attend the US Coast Guard’s cooking school at the US Coast Guard Training Center in Petaluma, California.
Within a couple of weeks, I received my orders to report to the school, which couldn’t have come at a better time, for later on the day of my departure, the Coast Guard’s Commandant, Admiral Paul Yost, was coming to the Charleston Coast Guard station to inspect the station and all of units assigned there. So leaving at 4:30 in the morning to avoid all of the pre-inspection duties and routines was definitely not a problem.
I was booked on a nonstop flight from Charleston to San Fransisco. I couldn’t have picked a more perfect day for a nonstop flight to California. For the duration of the five hour flight, the Boeing 757 streaked across the North American continent, giving me a beautiful birds eye view of the North American landscape underneath a perfectly clear azure sky highlighted with occasional whispy clouds. Ask the plane was making the final descent to land at the San Fransisco International Airport, I was looking out my window across the San Fransisco Bay, the plane was making it’s final descent onto the runway, I came to the realization that my plane had left the Eastern Time Zone at 8:00 am., and because of time zone changes, it was only 10:00 am. in San Fransisco. I had most of the day left to get to Petaluma. And in addition, I was granted an extra two days of travel time to Petaluma. In other word, I did not have to report to the Petaluma Training Center for another 48 hours. As far as I was concerned, I had all of the time in the world.
After retrieving my bags at the luggage terminal, I started to make my way through the airport to purchase a ticket for the commuter bus that was going to take me to Petaluma. For a Friday afternoon, I was thinking that the airport really wasn’t all that busy and since I wasn’t required to report to the Coast Guard Training Station for another 48 hours, I was in no hurry, and was taking my sweet time strolling through the airport. As I was strolling through the terminal and into the main thoroughfare of the airport I came upon the airport’s USO lounge. Being in no particular hurry, I walked into the lounge and discovered that there were free donuts and cans of soda pop available for any patrons.
Opening a can of Coke and grabbing a doughnut, the two ladies working in the lounge struck up a conversation with me. Wearing my formal uniform, they could see that I was a member of the Coast Guard. I told them that I was going to the Coast Guard Training Center in Petaluma to attend the cooking school there. They continued the conversation asking me where I was from and the like, which I responded in my typical Iowa nice response that I was from Winthrop Iowa, and that I wasn’t due to report to the Petaluma Training Center until Sunday. Then one of the ladies asked me if I have ever been in San Fransisco before?
“No ma’am”, I said, I was born and raised in Iowa, and have never been to San Fransisco or any other part of California for that matter”.
Hearing that I was 48 hours ahead of schedule, one the ladies“Well since you are arriving so early, maybe you should consider going downtown. All that you have to do is go outside of the main entrance of the airport and get on a city bus which stops right in the middle of Market Street. It’s definitely worth going to see. You can put your bags in a couple of lockers and come back and pick them up when your ready to go on to Petaluma.”
Upon hearing the ladies suggestion, I was immediately intrigued. I exclaimed, “It looks like a wonderful day out there, and after sitting on my five hour flight from Charleston, an afternoon field trip downtown San Fransisco would be a great excursion before I board the commuter bus to Petaluma.”
After a minute to shove my bags in a couple of the USO lockers, I was walking out of the airport, and into an picture perfect California day. And just like the lady at the USO told me, I obliviously boarded a bus headed for Market Street in downtown San Fransisco
When I say that I boarded the bus totally oblivious I mean that in the truest sense. All that I knew about San Fransisco came from listening to some various top 40 songs on the radio, watching the San Fransisco sports teams on television, and reading some old magazine articles about the Haight Asbury Hippie scene. So in finding a seat on the bus, my head was pretty much flooded with the music of, “If Your Going To San Fransisco” by Scott Mackenzie and “I Left My Heart In San Fransisco”, by Tony Bennett. Taking my place on the bus, I literally had no itinerary, expectations, or idea of what my afternoon field trip to downtown San Fransisco would be.
Soon after I sat down, a thirty year old, brown haired man with a thick mustache boarded the bus, and sat right next to me. Dressed in a Hertz Car Rental uniform, he told me that he worked at the airport’s Hertz kiosk and that he was just getting off of work and was going home. For the life of me, I cannot remember his name and so for the sake of this story I will call him Mr. Hertz.
Mr. Hertz looked at me in my full dress uniform an inquired, “Hey buddy, what branch of the military are you in?”
“Oh, I’m in the Coast Guard.” Guess I sort of stick out in my uniform.”, I said.
Mr. Hertz asked, “Have you ever been downtown before?”
“Never”, I said. “I thought that I would go down and walk along Market Street check it out.”
We continued to make small talk, as the bus pull onto the infamous Highway 101 and soon passed by Candlestick Park. We continued to converse with each other, for about 20 minutes as the bus was made it’s way to the Market Street bus stop.
Mr. Hertz perk up, “Hey, since it’s your first time here in town, why don’t you let me show you a few things.”
Since this whole side trip was such a spontaneous development, and having no intinterary, I smiled and saying, “That’s the best offer I’ve had all day! I’m open to whatever happens!”
Getting up out of his seat he said, “Then come on and follow me.”
And follow Mr. Hertz is exactly what I did for he walked very fast and with intention.
Spotting a cable car about a half a block up ahead, we started running to board it for an uphill ride. Just before it started heading up the hill, I stepped onto the cable car feeling like I was in some kind of Hollywood movie.
As soon as the cable car reached the top of the hill, Mr. Hertz jumped off and started his very brisk walk, “There’s a place this really great bar just a couple of blocks from here! I think that you’ll really love it.”
Growing up in rural, I had heard of people talking about how they could feel the energy put off in large urban cities. Following Mr. Hertz off of the bus, I could literally feel the traffic, the people masses of people walking up and around around, the hills, and architecture, the cable cars, At that moment, I could now understand what these people were talking about for San Fransisco literally has a genuine feel attached to it.
After walking a couple of blocks, we came to a bar called “The Redwood Room”. To be honest, I was so overstimulated that I really didn’t think much about the name of the place. Mr. Hertz opened the door for me saying, “This is the coolest bar in San Fransisco! Let’s go in and have a drink!”. Walking through the door, I connected the dots, for the whole bar of the Redwood Room was ornately decorated with redwood from Northern California. All that I could do is just sit there for a moment and just stare at the majestic detail and passion that was put into the effort of creating a truly one of a kind tavern experience. To be honest, I haven’t walked into a more impressive drinking establishment since.
In writing this article, I did some research in my cookbook collection and found some great information about The Redwood Room. According to “Look What’s Cooking In And Near San Fransisco”, by Katherine Kerry, she wrote, “This quiet and serene room paneled with great slabs of natural redwood cut from 2,000 year-old California Redwoods provides the food and service for which you have been longing.”
In A Cook’s Tour Of San Fransisco, Doris Mucatine wrote, “The Redwood Room was designed by Albert Landsburgh, the same architect who designed the San Fransisco Opera House. It has dignified and lofty proportions, and takes its name from the variety of highly polished redwoods that adorn it. The walls are adorned with smooth blocks of curly redwood and the bar is of rare solid burl. Against the dark woods the ceiling is of striking silver leaf….”.
As we took our place at the far end of the bar on a couple of bar stools, I continued to talk with Mr. Hertz, but all that I really remember was that I was constantly staring at the stunningly majestic The Redwood Room was.
After we finished our drinks, Mr. Hertz stood up from his bar stool. “Have you ever been in a glass elevator? There is one just a couple of blocks away if your up for it!”
“I’m all in!”, I replied as I stood up from my bar stool and put on my uniform hat.
And in his usual brisk walk, Mr. Hertz was walking out of the bar into the San Fransisco bustle with me following behind him about a half a step. After walking about another two blocks, we came to the St. Francis Hotel at Union Square. Walking inside Mr. Hertz pointed out the beautifully and intricately laid marble floors and escorting me across the hotel lobby. And sure enough, there was a glass elevator that went up to the 32nd floor. Stepping onto the elevator, Mr. Hertz gave me the honor of pushing the button to take us to the 32nd floor. The time was about 4:00 in the afternoon, and there was a still a beautiful blue sky overhead. As the elevator climbed to the 32nd floor, we were treated to a beautiful birds eye view of the San Fransisco from the perspective of Union Square. As quickly as the elevator had gone up, we pushed the button to take us back down to the lobby. Years later, I learned that the original chef at the St. Francis Hotel was Victor Hertzler, the most famous chef west of the Mississippi River (I will write more about him later).
Exiting the elevator, Mr. Hertz told me that he really enjoyed showing me around, but he had to be on his way. I shook his hand, gave him my best Iowa nice thank you, and found my way back to market street and found a bus heading back to the airport.
Arriving back at the airport, I picked up my bags at the USO lounge and caught the next commuter bus headed for Petaluma. Riding on the bus, I was given one last surprise, when I realized that the bus route to Petaluma involved crossing the Golden Gate Bridge. It was rush hour, and the bus ended up being stuck in the middle of the bridge during the rush hour traffic for about 20 minutes. With the sun was setting low in the western sky, I had an incredible view of the sun as it was setting over the San Fransisco skyline. Before the sun had risen in Charleston, I was standing at the gate of the Charleston Coast Guard station, and just because I walked into the USO Lounge, my day took a totally fascinating trajectory. As the bus was crossing the Golden Gate Bridge, I was thinking about how Mr. Hertz, a person who I had never met and probably ever meet again, took a couple of hours to show me around. I could not have asked for a more perfect day.
I finally arrived at the Petaluma Training Center still two days early. The officer on duty checked my in and took me to my room. Walking through the doorway, one of my three room mates had already arrived. He walked over to me, shook my hand, and introduced himself, “How are you doing!! My name is Ron”.