Trip Date: August 13, 2016
Find this SpotMy mom, Theresa Schoenstein (Hart) was the oldest daughter of 9 children born to Theresa Agnes Segesser and Erwin August Schoenstein; Bob, Victor, Red (Bernard), mom, her twin brother Skinny (Erwin), Lenny, twins Fran and Clara, and the youngest Gil. Grandma may have been an only child, but grandpa was one of 10 children, and his father, Fridolin (Felix) was one of 17 children, of which only 8 – 5 sons and 3 daughters reached adulthood. Felix was the youngest of the sons of Leo, born in 1811 in Villingen, Baden (Black Forest) Germany. Leo was initially a clock maker, but lost his job in the revolutionary period of 1848. He was able to get a position as “Foerster” or forest ranger and moved into a forest house called “Salfest”. When he first occupied the house he said that it was occupied by 4 or 5 Prussian soldiers on the lookout for fleeing rebels.
After 11 years in the forest, Leo and his wife Rosa Constanzer moved back to Villingen and went back to clock making and small orchestrions. Leo’s oldest son, Lucas started his own business in Villingen, and Felix, began a 5 year apprenticeship with him from 14 to 19 years old. In 1865, Luca made a large ornate orchestrion for Bombay India – quite an achievement for that time. In 1868, Lucas made another orchestrion for Mr. J. Wittmeir of San Francisco, Ca for a large resort on Jackson Street, near Kearny. So, at 19 years old, Felix attended the orchestrion to San Francisco, by way of Bremen, New York, and Panama, arriving in SF on October 19, 1868, 2 days before the biggest earthquake on record.
With little orchestrion business in SF, Felix turned to church organs, despite feeling they were quite crude compared to the high standard followed in orchestrion building. In 1869, Felix accepted employment with Joseph Meyer on Page Street near Gough. Meyer was California’s pioneer organ builder and provided room and board to Felix, treating him as a son. Shop and family were in the same house, as was custom in Europe. On August 4, 1877, Felix started his own business on Birch Avenue near Octavia. He married Magdelena Hofmann at the age of 29, and had 5 sons – Leo, Frank, Louis, Otto, Erwin, and 5 daughters – Frances, Marie, Cecilia, Clara, and Helen, losing none of his children in childhood.
In about 1925, the 3 youngest sons, Louis, Otto, and my grandfather Erwin were running the business. Louis retired in 1962 and Otto passed away in 1969, leaving my grandfather the last of his generation to run the business. Finally, in 1977, after 100 years of continual operation, grandpa sold the business to Jack Bethards who has since moved the business to Benicia, California. The shop at 20th and Alabama is a registered historical landmark, and was essentially the motivation for this trip. I had been to the shop as a child, but didn’t remember much. My oldest brother Mike and I often talked about taking our mom on a driving tour of San Francisco with her, to see some of the houses she lived in, those of her aunts and uncles, the churches they attended, the places they worked, the significant places in my dad’s life, in Edna, Mike’s wife’s life, and so many other people and places that were in our lives or in stories of the family.
Since both my grandparents were born in San Francisco and have lived there ever since, we have a tremendous history with the City. The organ business notwithstanding, my family has been involved with the establishment of many churches, parishes, and schools in the City. Grandpa’s dad and his older siblings were involved in the rebuilding of San Francisco after the earthquake in 1906, which was almost a complete rebuild of what was there at the time. Since that almost complete erasing of the City, it has expanded, most notably with the Western Addition, and the conversion of miles of sand dunes to our City where we grew up in the Marina and later the Sunset District.
I was born In St. Mary’s hospital in the City while my mom was a nurse there, after graduating from St. Mary’s School of Nursing on February 10, 1945, before working at Seafarer’s Medical Center and later at SF State in the student health center. My dad worked at Bank of America and Hibernia Bank for most of his career. My dad also was an only child, like grandma, but mom’s siblings all grew up in SF and all but Red stayed and raised their families here. They were cops, sheriffs’, firemen, bankers and chemists. We had 30 cousins, along with my 5 siblings, and dozens of second cousins and close relatives all in SF. It was a wonderful time to grow up there and I wouldn’t change it for the world. But I had an itch to get out by the time I graduated from SI. City life was not for me so I headed north to Humboldt State in 1979, returning for a year or 2 here and there.
I eventually graduated from HSU in 1986, was married and began my family in Humboldt County. I got a job with the state in 1990 and have lived in the Sacramento area since, returning to SF only occasionally, so the thought of driving around the City with my oldest brother, who, although technically lives in Pacifica has essentially lived his entire life and worked many of them in the City. Being so much older, he has a real connection with some of the uncles and great aunts and uncles I do not have. He really does know the City like the back of his hand having painted the City streets for 15 years or so, and along with the rich family history he retains, he would make a fine chauffeur for Kristen and me.
We never got a chance to bring mom along as she passed away in June, but I wanted to do this driving tour and we finally got it together, mostly because of Edna. For my birthday, Edna paid for 2 nights lodging for us at the Inn, which we finally used in August. Kristen and I arrived late afternoon, taking our time and enjoying a relaxing ride down from Sacramento. Mike and Edna suggested we go to dinner at Izzy’s steakhouse in the Marina on Steiner near Chestnut, near Lucca Deli, one of my mom’s favorite spots and where Gilby worked. We wanted to include our cousin Janet so she met us there for a fantastic dinner. Mike knew the owner from his regular flea market visits and Janet used to hang out there with another cousin Virginia when they lived together. It was a great meal and I was ready to walk some of it off, especially since we were right in the heart of the trendy area of Chestnut Street. There are tons of cool little shops and bars and restaurants and tons of night life. Mike and Edna left us youngsters to carouse the streets.
We walked up one side and down the other, noting the bars that seemed to be age appropriate and with just the right number of patrons; at least a few to let you know the place is alright, but not too many so it is loud and chaotic and has lousy service. We made an excellent choice at a nice place and great bartenders. They had the end of a Giants game on and we had quite a few laughs, listening to some of Janet’s stories of her days in these parts and making plans for the next day.
Janet dropped us off at a very decent hour, though sleep was rare and light. While the cool wet fog was most appreciated, the busses not only stopped outside our window, it was their gathering and waiting spot before they headed out on the next round through the City. Sutro Park across the street also attracted its share of loud night people, which was not conducive to sleep. I realize and accept their right to be insane out loud wherever and whenever they want, but just not around me.
Morning came early with a knock at the door and Mike and Edna in the doorway. I wasn’t quite ready for breakfast downstairs, but once I got seated and smelled the coffee, I came to my senses. The restaurant under the hotel is well known for breakfasts and I was quickly warming up to the idea. I was also excited about the day, our long awaited driving tour. It was a perfectly San Francisco day; wet, foggy, and cool on the west side, but warm and sunny on the East side, as we would soon find out.
We started with Edna’s family house on Lake Street and then jumped into the Presidio to look for El Polin Spring, and then another one on the side of Russian Hill. Mike performed some driving miracles, or “Someone Had Us By the Hand” as some would say, but we bombed down ludicrously steep hills and screamed out onto Columbus at full speed – intentional or not, we landed safely. We headed onto the Embarcadero past Red’s Java House, Pac Bell (AT&T), China Basin, McCovey Cove, and onto Illinois, my new favorite street. Mike, I am sure, had memories of every street, and he shared stories along the way. We explored some of the old shipyard that was now open to the public. We crossed Islais Creek and entered India Basin, Bayview, and Hunter’s Point. So much is already gone from my dad’s time and even from Mike’s time, including Candlestick, the source of so much joy and celebrations for our family and thousands like us who were rabid 49er fans. There are new high end apartments going up in Hunter’s Point with fantastic views of the Bay and the East Bay. They are yards from project housing and some of the worst neighborhoods in town. They will not last. I do not know where the people will go. It is sad and predictable, and exciting all at the same time.
I remembered some of the streets from working as an usher for the 49ers. My dad got me the job after they moved from Kezar and I would drive out with him and one of his buddies. They knew all the back roads to escape or at least minimize the traffic. Since we had to stay until most everyone was gone, we were typically some of the last people to leave, thus knowing some alternative routes was imperative. Ingalls, Palou, Jerrold, Evans, and then on to Army, now Cesar Chavez were all street names I vaguely recognized from the late 70’s.
We headed back to the shop in the Mission and met Janet who would guide us the rest of the day as Mike was playing music this day and tomorrow, our last in the City. We decided to head to The Ramp for lunch with Janet. Along the way we saw some of the old family homes and locations of the business on Bryant, Vermont (the second crookedest street in SF), and throughout Potrero Hill. Janet also showed us quite a few haunts of hers as she has worked at SF General Hospital for many years and knows the area exceptionally well herself. We had a ball ziggy zaggying this way and that, looking for the Schoenstein addresses Mike harvested out of a 1922 San Francisco phone book he got at the flea market. We did Potrero Hill, then crossed the Dog Patch and landed at the Ramp.
The time Mike and Edna brought Kristen and I there before, we sat in the back, outside, close to the water. It was quieter and mellower back there, and although you had to serve yourself, it was worth being out of the commotion of the main yard. It was really busy as usual, so we went right back to the area we had been before and grabbed a big open table and set up shop. Bathrooms and beverages were the imperative. Having both in short order, we were getting ready to go up and order our food. A lady who seemed to have a sense of authority about the place warned us about a bee hive in a bush near us. They weren’t bothering us and really not that active anywhere near us, but the gals went up front to check on a table. I stayed in my seat making a feeble show of resistance. Sure enough, they all came back, having put their name in but being told there were no tables and would be a considerable wait.
The lady came back by and looking displeased with our presence asked why we hadn’t moved. Telling her we tried, she stormed off around the corner and came back with a handful of menus to guide us to our table. While on the surface, her helping us get a table right away was a very nice thing to do, but again, I much preferred the calm and quiet and shade of the back.
Our table was right in the middle of the courtyard, by the hostess table, amidst mega chaos in the sun, and the sun was hot. I went from being excited to be at this place to being excited to be leaving. Poor Janet and her fair skin and Edna who is sensitive to the sun were both right in it and there wasn’t much we could do but eat and scoot. Mike had to get to music, so the lunch was rather quick anyway. Back at the shop, we retrieved our stuff from Mike’s car and loaded it into Janet’s and then walked over to the see what we could see of the shop.
As we loitered in front and peeked in the window, we saw some movement inside and decided to knock. A young dude answered and believing our story, let us in. He gave us a fantastic tour of every nook and cranny – all 4 floors. I had no recollection of the inside, but Janet recalled her dad, Gil, pushing them on the giant block and tackle inside. We noticed the massive trap doors in the floor that enable them to work on the massive organs and pipes. It would have been great to be there with Mike because he actually worked at the shop and went on service calls with Grandpa and Louis as a youngster.
Now the place is used by 4 or 5 small tech businesses working on electric cars, renewable energy storage, solar panels and such. It was very cool to get to go all over the place and to see it in such great shape, and still being used for innovation and advancing technology, as Louis often did back in the organ world. That guy willing to open the door and let us in and share his stories of the years he has been in the shop, really set the tone for the rest of the day.
This part of the Mission has changed tremendously since grandpa’s time when it was a pretty decent blue collar working class neighborhood, to our time when it was a real rough, crime ridden area, to the trendy area it has become. The streets were full of young hipsters and young families going to The Atlas Cafe, Sightglass Coffee, and Central Kitchen. Even Jay’n Bee Club, which was a local watering hole back in grandpa’s day, has been turned into a pizza and pool place. Janet told us a story she heard from her dad about his brothers at the club one day. Apparently, it was a regular hangout back in the day, having once captivated his brother Lenny, who was working for his dad at the shop at the time, all afternoon when another brother Skinny came over for lunch. They must have been in deep conversation as grandpa had to walk the 4 blocks from the shop to come get him back to work after an extraordinary lunch break. I can only imagine how they must have felt having their dad all mad at them and then Lenny having to go back to the shop and work under the stern eyes of his dad after having several lunchtime libations. Glad to know some things have changed so little.
We had hit this side of town pretty hard and I wanted to get into more familiar territory on the West side. So Janet headed out yonder telling us stories along the way, including the DNA Lounge which just sounds like it would have many interesting stories to tell. We went up to Alamo Square Park made famous for the row of exquisite Victorians along Steiner. She took us by her place on Wood Street off Geary near the old Fireman’s Fund Insurance building on Masonic. Then we headed down Geary, passed landmarks such as Star of the Sea, Boudin Bakery, Abbey Tavern, Pig and Whistle, and Ireland’s 32.
Finally we got out West, near the motel and Louis’, Cliff House, Land’s End, Fort Miley, Sutro Baths, and the USS San Francisco Memorial. K went back to the room to get her walking shoes while Janet and I parked and then sat and talked. It was great to just sit and relax and talk about good memories and happy times. We headed out the Lands End trail that offers spectacular views of the Golden Gate, the Bay, China Beach, Baker Beach, and Sea Cliff. We went on past Eagles Point and continued on through the Sea Cliff, one of my favorite areas and most spectacular neighborhoods. We stopped at the CVS Pharmacy for something unusual and then head back up and then down Clement, stopping to look at some of the beautiful homes, gardens, and the views along the way. It was a great hike and definitely stirred the appetite.
Janet suggested we go to Suppenkuche German restaurant back in Hayes Valley, just a few blocks East of Alamo Square and a few blocks West of Civic Center. This is one of the best things about the City. It is small, barely 7 square miles, so everything is pretty close. So many cool neighborhoods, trendy areas, downtown, the Sunset, the Presidio, the Mission, the Embarcadero, the Castro, Haight, SoMo, Potrero Hill, Bernal Heights, Oceanside, Ingleside, Park Merced. You just don’t have to go very far to be in a totally different environment with totally different memories.
Our timing at Suppenkuche couldn’t have been better. We found a parking space, which is no small task, got seated right away, and had a massive dark beer in short order. The seating is not as much family style as it is just crammed all together. I couldn’t get to my seat against the wall without the help of the people at the table next to us. It was worth the effort though because Janet, on the inside had body parts of all shapes and sizes bumping into her all evening. The place filled to the brim within minutes, so we were super lucky, but while it made for great people watching, the service and ambiance degenerated quickly. The food and beverages were excellent though and it was a super fun place to be. We walked off our meal, or at least moved it around a little by cruising Hayes, past the Boulangerie, the little street garden of Patricia’s Green and the cool open spaces of the Biergarten and the Proxy. There were tons of people of all sorts out creating a super cool, friendly, fun vibe, but our vibe was growing weak from so much fun and so Janet pointed West and took us back to the motel. She was such a great tour guide and we had tons of fun talking, and sharing stories, and catching up. It was great to spend time with her.
Sleep was better and so we awoke well rested and ready for our last morning in the City and our drive home. Mike and Edna met us downstairs again for fuel reloading and they were off to more music playing. Kristen made the outrageous and erroneous claim that she had never been to Golden Gate Park (really????), so I wanted to cement that deal, and it made for a perfect morning walkabout.
We parked down by Beach Chalet and watched a little soccer, remembering playing many games there on freezing cold, foggy, wet mornings. I remember playing OLM and Kevin Mahoney kicking the ball so hard it left the imprint of the seams on my thigh for days, but I blocked his kick. The last time we were here it was being renovated and it looked really good now. We crossed the street to the Windmill when Kristen screeched out, “Oh I’ve been here before”…So, we had walked about 100 yards and I was vindicated. We passed the Archery Fields where, along with many of the other places in the park, we partied in high school. We passed the golf course where I took Heidi and she wouldn’t stay out of the way when I hit, so finally I nailed her right in the head with my 3 wood. The ball ricocheted off her skull about 100 yards; it didn’t faze her.
We passed the Bison where once, one of many times we cut wood with Gil, he had a gardener tell him about a load of Eucalyptus we helped him get. I can still smell the leaves. We got up to Spreckles where I would often go to watch the remote control boats and the big sail boats. This trip didn’t disappoint as both were present in numbers. It was super cool to watch and listen to the old timers talk to each other and rib and joke. We cut across the Polo fields to the Angling pools and passed the Bercut Equitation Field (not sure what that is but it is obviously something worth noting).
Back at the car, I was already melancholy at the thought of leaving. I had been filled with so many great memories and family stories, and seeing Mike and Edna and Janet. It seemed like I had just been living here again and had to move away. I was sad, but in a happy way. We retraced our route up the Great, to Pt. Lobos, Lincoln Golf Course, through Sea Cliff, around the Presidio a little, and then onto the Bridge and home. As usual, it seemed like we were gone a week, but had experienced so much and relived so many great times in just a couple short days. What a great trip!
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