Lamenting the end of this or that small business — one day it’s Lucca on Valencia Street, the next day it’s the Haight Ashbury Music Center — is a cottage industry in San Francisco. Often the establishments have been around since the 1970s, or 1950s, or like Lucca, the 1920s. But behind the hand-wringing and nostalgia, which feed into the ever-popular narratives of loss about the city, there are often counter-narratives. The Lucca owners also owned their building and willingly cashed out. (“While it’s not a story of greedy landlords and displacement, the closure still feels like a blow in a city that longtime residents fear is losing its soul,” the Chronicle wrote this spring.)
As former San Francisco magazine editor Scott Lucas wrote recently, a city’s soul is in the eye of the soul-beholder. (“This is important to me, therefore it is the soul.”)
Part of the problem is we can’t look past our own imprint, like baby birds who latch onto the first creature they meet after hatching. The places — and smells, sounds, and sights — we first encounter are often burned into our memories and granted oversized importance, even if it’s a grungy corner store or a thoroughly mediocre pizza joint. It’s true whether you grew up in that place, or moved there as an adult.
I have a San Francisco imprint, too. I moved to the city in 1997 and worked here as a bike messenger for a year and a half, riding around the Mission, South of Market, and other neighborhoods, creating my own mental map that sometimes had different points of reference than the physical grid. I recently was on my bike, cruising the same routes, and noticed several businesses that were thriving when I arrived in 1997 were no longer around — and the spaces where they existed are still in limbo.
Perhaps these businesses should have gone under, perhaps they shouldn’t. This is not a cry of nostalgia for what we’ve lost; it’s more a testament to the mental landscape that we all form when we arrive in a new place, and how changes in that landscape are inevitable. (All photos by the author.)
February 29, 2016: a day that will live in infamy. A bus overheated and caught fire, sending not just the well-known Chevron station on 9th and Howard Streets to an early end but also the Starbucks, Burger King and car wash on the Chevron’s premises.
REASON FOR EXTINCTION: Fire and explosions.
Brainwash at 1122 Folsom Street was a meeting spot for poets, musicians, and comedy open-mic enthusiasts that opened in 1989. I spent a lot of time here as a bike messenger, drinking coffee and reading the Guardian. It was also the first combo laundromat and coffee shop I’d ever seen, a forerunner of the current fight to increase flexible retail space. I remember running into local legend Diamond Dave here on occasion and having great conversations.
REASON FOR EXTINCTION: Declining revenue due to nearby construction.
Ristorante Umbria owner Giulio Tempesta came to California in 1977 and opened the restaurant in 1995 at 2nd and Howard Streets. I had always noticed its European charm and became a regular from about 2007 to 2011. Guilio was the consummate host and the restaurant was a favorite for many local athletes from the Warriors and Giants.
REASON FOR EXTINCTION: Lost lease.
Always Open Car Wash is no longer open. It was an under-the-radar classic, not least because it was the spiritual descendant of the car wash from the movie Bullitt. But Always Open was also unique in its layout on Marin St., just east of the Highway 101-Cesar Chavez “hairball.” In another nod to the brilliance of flexible retail, the DIY “pay ’n’ spray” wash bays were complimented by an engine-cleaning stall tucked into a far corner, and a taqueria (“fresh fruit drinks and catering available”). For some of us, it made perfect sense.
REASON FOR EXTINCTION: Unclear, but judging by the last batch of Yelp reviews it might have been mismanagement.
At the corner of 10th and Folsom sits the former site of Contech Auto Service Center. Contech’s owner Jimmy is described in numerous Yelp reviews as “hard to understand but knowledgeable about cars and very friendly.” The 3,000 square-foot building was built in 1927 and is currently for lease.
REASON FOR EXTINCTION: Bankruptcy.
Joe’s Cable Car at 4320 Mission St. started in 1965, a 160 square-foot replica of a cable car, a drive-in diner with walk up service. In 1973, the roof was extended to provide shelter from the rain. By 1977, walls and windows went up around the extended roof and created indoor seating. Soon customers began comparing the construction pace to the Winchester Mystery House.
REASON FOR EXTINCTION: Owner retired.
For more uniquely Frisc coverage of our city’s small businesses, click here.
Jeremy LaCroix is art director of The Frisc. You never know when you’ll find him lying on the sidewalk shooting remarkable photos.
