In 1906, a critical fire break along Van Ness Avenue saved most of Pacific Heights from destruction, and the tony enclave remains one of the city’s richest resources for history, architecture, and, dare we say it, neighborhood character.
But unless you live in a very particular tax bracket, you might not bother to ascend to these heights all that often. Always a redoubt for the rich, recent decades have branded Pacific Heights with the icy reputation of bloodless yuppie-ism on top of its old-money exclusivity, as immortalized in the eponymous 1990 Michael Keaton thriller.
Which is a shame, because it has a lot to offer the casual pedestrian: amazing views, arresting architecture, and, here and there, tangible traces of truly historic San Francisco.
If all that isn’t enough to entice you, the neighborhood can always throw in a good ghost story or two. Pacific Heights may be the most haunted neighborhood in the city. Or so they say.
Alas, nobody can guarantee the authenticity of a ghost story — or of ghosts, for that matter. But wherever you find aging architecture and gobs of money, people will tell stories.
So if you want to feel a chill even before the weather turns, put on some comfortable shoes and take a walk. Have we got a story for you.
Ghoulish headmistress
Let’s start on the fringes of Pacific Heights, near Japantown, at the Queen Anne Hotel. The soaring and stately Victorian at 1590 Sutter Street, built circa 1890, originally served as an all-girls school.
As the name implies, this is about as much Queen Anne-style architecture as you can get by volume anywhere in the city.
Longtime legend has it that the school’s old headmistress, Mary Lake, still patrols the halls after hours, making sure none of her students are out late. It seems she keeps her spectral sorties to the fourth floor, however, so you’ll have to make a reservation if you want to meet her in person (so to speak).
Room 410, her old office, books up fast. The Queen Anne management has even run ghost-themed ads on local TV around this time of year. From there, head east on Sutter to Gough Street, then turn north to take in the incredible Trinity St. Peter’s Episcopal Church at 1620 Gough.
It’s not haunted, as far we know, but architect Arthur Page Brown did model it on England’s 900-year-old Durham Cathedral — and what’s a haunted outing without some Gothic (Gough-ic?) architecture?
From cask to casket
Turn north again and then east a couple of blocks, and you’ll hit the old Atherton Mansion at 1990 California Street. It was erected in 1881 by a wealthy widow, Dominga de Goñi Atherton, the wife of the namesake of Atherton, the Bay Area’s richest and most boring burgh.
The mansion has accumulated as many ghost stories as eaves over the years, but the favorite of most local folklorists is the tale of Dominga’s son George, who died at sea and was shipped home in a barrel of rum. The alcohol preserved poor George for the trip, but it probably didn’t do much for the hapless house servants who discovered him when they pried open the cask.
Historians give credence to the story about George’s body. The additional rumor of his rum-soaked spirit haunting the premises is more vaporous, although it is supposedly why George’s widow moved out. These days you’ll find the Atherton place bedecked with scaffolding as it undergoes repairs and, intriguingly, sporting a “For Lease” sign.
Immediately to the north you’ll find the entrance to Lafayette Park, an ideal place to take in some sun, meet enthusiastic dogs, and catch some of the city’s best views – and your breath. The St. Regis Apartments, not haunted by any legend we could find, are nonetheless notable as the only private homes within the boundaries of an SF public park.
Barricaded Chambers
From Lafayette Park, saunter a few blocks west to take in the historic Chambers Mansion at 2220 Sacramento Street — or what little of it remains visible to the public. Over the years various owners have added an increasing barricade of imposing trees and overgrowth that sadly blocks sidewalk views of its twin Queen Anne turrets built circa 1887.
Maybe the owners got sick of all the looky-loos attracted to the truly ghoulish legend of silver baron Richard Chambers, who left the home to his two feuding nieces. The pair bickered so much that they divided the mansion in two between them — right up to the day one sister was found gruesomely murdered, herself split in half by some unknown means.
It’s a good story, but sadly it’s not true. In 2018, an SFGate reporter found no record of any Chambers nieces inheriting the home, nor of anyone bisected on the premises.
Still, looking at those twin turrets and the 2220-2222 address bolted to the front, it’s easy to imagine how someone could conceive a legend about sisters who insisted on two of everything until one of them finally got it.
Perhaps you can’t trust ghost stories, but architecture can weather a lot more, as you’ll see on our next stop at the Whittier Mansion at 2090 Jackson Street. The scariest thing about this Arizona sandstone behemoth is that for a brief period in 1941 it served as the consulate for the Third Reich.
It was also the home of the officer who led the division in which Adolph Hitler served in World War I. This arrangement only lasted a few months before wartime tension exorcised the Nazi presence from the city.
The resident ghost story here features no interloping Germans. The spectral figure sometimes reported in the stairwells is an old family butler or the original owner, William Whittier.
These days, the building itself is a fright. The Romanesque facade is shockingly weathered and degraded, huddled behind bent fencing and topped with gloomy eaves. If any house in SF looks haunted, it’s this one.
With the hair on the back of your neck still standing, perhaps you’ll walk as quickly as possible away, downhill to 2007 Franklin Street, where the famous Haas-Lilienthal House has stood since 1886 — and where the longtime caretaker-in-residence insists a plucky poltergeist often rearranges household objects behind her back.
Unlike the private homes earlier on the route, this house-turned-museum is open to the public. In fact, the house is hosting another in a series of theatrical Halloween haunts through November 2.
Since it’s unlikely you’ll turn up other ghosts on this route beforehand, here, at least, the scares come with the price of admission.
How to get there
To start your haunted Heights tour at the Queen Anne Hotel, Muni will get you there via the 38 Geary or 1 California, or the 2 Sutter if you’re coming from the east. If you insist on driving, Japantown’s garage is about four blocks away.
For a deeper dive and more storytelling, a professional walking tour might be your thing. We can recommend the SF Ghost Hunt folks.
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