Over a decade before the Gold Rush transformed the drowsy Yerba Buena
into capital Capital West—San Francisco—a third settlement (after the
Presidio and Mission Dolores) was founded near the northeast shoreline,
the north beach, of this sandy, curvaceous thumbnail of the peninsula.
Today, North Beach, a neighborhood which runs along Columbus Avenue
above Broadway and up to Telegraph Hill, is unequaled in its cultural
diversity and nighttime splendor.
Christopher Columbus at the foot of Coit Tower.
In 1838, before landfill projects landlocked Telegraph Hill and its arc
of beach, Apolino Miranda and his wife Juanna Briones built their adobe
house on a hundred-vara lot at what is now the northeast corner of
Filbert and Powell streets, adjacent to the Saints Peter and Paul
Church. Juanna’s lush vegetable garden has become Washington Square,
across Filbert Street above Union. Sailors embarking on the beach would
stop at Apolino and Miranda’s dairy ranch to buy leche (milk)—or
aguardiente (brandy)—and perhaps hire horses for the long “drive”
to the Mission. Horsehair lariats were another sideline at the ranch,
and particularly treasured in those days when rattlesnakes infested the
nearby hills.
When gold fever hit, a group of Germans fleeing Europe’s liberal
revolutions of 1848 had settled near Telegraph Hill, soon followed by
Irish escaping famine. The small immigrant community blossomed into a
city center when, in the 1850s, New Yorker Harry Meiggs invested his
fortunes (and the public’s) in cutting and grading streets in the
district and in building the 2000-foot Meiggs’ Wharf. The wharf, site of
the city’s premiere amusement park and saloon, ran into water at Powell
and Francisco streets.
Vibrancy and culture-vending at the annual Upper Grant Street Fair,
pictured here near the corner of Grant Avenue and Filbert Street.
At the time, Telegraph Hill sported a Merchants’ (stock) Exchange
station and observatory, to which signals were relayed from Point Lobos,
off the west coast, whenever a vessel steamed into the bay. Industry
soon dug in around the hill, and the community became more and more
focal, accentuated by the brilliance of the new Italian settlement which
dominated the neighborhood by the 1880s.
Italian is still the dominant ethnic culture in North Beach, and the
community shines brightest during the yearly Columbus Day Celebration.
But North Beach, less than a square mile in the most densely populated
district in the city, is truly cosmopolitan. Even as one visitor sits
nursing a cappuccino amid a variety of Italian dialects, another marvels
at the Basque, Filipino, French, Yugoslavian, Palestinian, Korean,
American Indian, Spanish and Turkish culture and enterprise laced among
the cafes and pasta shops.
“Christopher Columbus” lands on Columbus Avenue above Filbert in the
Columbus Day recreation of his landing aboard the Santa Maria.
Simultaneously, more daring (or simply more
curious) folk will be found on Broadway, the southern border of North
Beach. Broadway and Pacific Avenue bound what was once the Barbary
Coast, a lone gone “nest of vice” that was in the 19th century the most
perilous path through iniquity west of Asia. Today, Broadway retains its
risqué heritage in more muted (and safer) forms. Its carnival
atmosphere, topless bars, music clubs, restaurants and famous
international cafes make Broadway at once anomalous and intensely
emblematic of San Francisco’s ethos.
The Bohemian community that once made Broadway its home, most decisively
during the “Beat” movement of the 1950s, has migrated up Grant Avenue,
leaving only the City Lights bookstore and a few watering holes to mark
its former place. On Grant above Columbus, where the sidewalks roll out
in summertime for the annual Upper Grant Street Fair, is a panoply of
boutiques, cafes and culture-vendors. It is while strolling Upper Grant
Avenue that one recalls Greenwich Village, and it is throughout North
Beach that one recognizes the tremendous cultural diversity that has
made San Francisco a visitors’ mecca.
—Michael Macrone
– 30 –
First published in Key: This Week in San Francisco (fall, 1984)