FoundSF - User contributions [en]

Chinese Temples in San Francisco

2010-12-27T22:46:43Z

KMorris: corrected the goddess to which the temple is dedicated

''' Unfinished History '''

[[Image:chinatwn$tin-how-temple.jpg]]

'''The Tin How Temple in Chinatown'''

''Photo: Brett Reierson''

'''Tin How Temple. '''125 Waverly Place between Washington and Clay Streets, just west of Grant Avenue. Top floor. Open every day, 10 a.m.-4 p.m. Voluntary donation requested. If it's true that spiritual power accumulates over time, then the Tin How Temple may be one of the "power spots" of San Francisco; Chinese sages have been communing with the deities here since the 1850's. The temple is consecrated to the goddess T’ien Hou (also known as Mazu), revered as the guardian angel of fishermen, seafarers, and women in distress. The Temple's atmosphere, with its clouds of incense-smoke, spirit-inhabited carvings, and altars with fruit offerings, hasn't changed much since earliest Chinese immigrants worshipped here in the days of the Gold Rush.

'''Noras Temple''' 109 Waverly Place, between Washington and Clay Streets. Open daily, 9 a.m.- 3 p.m. Free admission. An excellent place to commune with the Chinese spirits. On alternate Sundays, monks perform their religious observances, and those who maintain a respectful attitude are welcome to attend.

'''The Place to Research Esoteric Chinese Lore '''

'''[[Buddha's Universal Church: 720 Washington|Buddha's Universal Church]], 720 Washington Street at Kearny'''. This church, the largest Buddhist church in the United States, has a historical library available for researchers interested in Chinese philosophy. The library is rumored to contain books harboring esoteric secrets known only to a few initiated adepts.

'''A Feast for the Gods: Where Deities are Fed by Taoists--Lotus Garden Temple''', 532 Grant Avenue (upstairs), in the Lotus Garden Restaurant. Open Tuesday-Sunday, 10 a.m.-6 p.m. Free admission. One of this mean ole planet's gentler religious philosophies is Taoism (pronounced dow-ism), a Chinese-based teaching which seeks to harmonize human activity with the inscrutable flow of nature:

''Tao abides in non-action, ''

''Yet nothing is left undone.

''If kings and lords observed this,

''The ten thousand things would develop naturally.

''If they still desired to act,

''They would return to the simplicity of formless substance.

''Without form there is no desire.

''Without desire there is tranquility.

''And in this way all things would be at peace.

(verse 37 of Lao Tsu's ''Tao Te Ching'', translated by Gia-Fu Feng and Jane English. NY: Vintage, 1972.)

Apparently some Taoist spirits still have an appetite for earthly things, for, in the Lotus Garden Temple, sumptuous culinary offerings are left on altars for the deities to enjoy.

''--Dr. Weirde''

[[The Golden Dragon Restaurant Massacre| Prev. Document]] [[Buddha's Universal Church: 720 Washington| Next Document]]

[[category:Chinatown]] [[category:1990s]] [[category:religion]] [[category:1850s]]

Larry Ching

2010-05-20T21:55:26Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

Source material from [http://www.http://www.amazon.com/ ''Forbidden City: The Golden Age of Chinese Nightclubs''] by [http://www.trinarobbins.com Trina Robbins].

[[File:LarryChing.jpg]]

'''Larry Ching, "The Chinese Frank Sinatra", with adoring fans, c1942.'''

Larry Ching was born on the Hawaiian island of Kauai in 1921. His mother Muilan Naiwi was an opera singer who pursued her studies in Europe, leaving Larry to be raised by his father. After graduating high school, he joined the merchant marine, sailing to all the major ports of call around the Pacific Rim. One of his regular stops was San Francisco, and he never missed a chance to visit the nightclubs in Chinatown.

The nightclub scene was really starting to hop just at the time that Larry arrived. Both the Forbidden City and the Club Shanghai had just opened when Larry took a $40-a-week job as a bartender at Chinese Village. He honed his singing style behind the bar and boasted later, “I became the first singing bartender in Chinatown.”

In 1940, Forbidden City owner Charlie Low hired Larry to appear in the “All-Chinese Floor Show” at his nightclub. Larry – with his suave demeanor, smooth singing style, and easy good looks – quickly became one of the club's most popular entertainers. He performed six nights a week, singing the most popular tunes of the day accompanied by the top-notch band led by Monte Monteverdi.

[[File:LarryChingAdvertisment.jpg]] '''Advertisement for the Forbidden City nightclub featuring Larry Ching, c1942.'''

Dancer Stanley Toy said of his friend, “"I'd be talking to a pretty girl and then Larry would start to sing, and it was all over for me. If she wanted to dance, Larry would step out with her, but if it was an old, fat, ugly one, he'd lead her over to me and say, 'Stanley, you're the dancer!'"

Charlie Low, the master of marketing, billed Larry as the “Chinese Frank Sinatra,” a title the singer intensely disliked. Many Chinese nightclub performers were marketed this way, matching them up with a popular white act to entice white audiences. The message sent sometimes felt as if the “Chinese” acts were meant to astonish white audiences, who might not believe that an Asian person could sing like Frank Sinatra or dance like Fred Astaire. But some San Franciscans looked past these labels, valuing the Asian performers for their own talents and charm. San Francisco Chronicle columist Herb Caen turned the label on its head, writing that “'Frank Sinatra is really the Italian Larry Ching."

There was, of course, more overt racism to be confronted. Living and working in San Francisco throughout his life, Larry had the support of a strong Chinese-American community. But white audiences brought their prejudices into the clubs with them, and sometimes did not check them at the door. Larry, for one, struggled to stay cool when bigots attacked him. "Several times I lost control of my temper when some drunken customer called me 'Chinaman,"' he recalled. Occasionally he would get in a fight, but most of the time, he said, "I just had to take it."

[[File:LarryChing2.jpg]] '''Larry Ching in "Rhumbero" costume, c1945.'''

Larry Ching performed at the Forbidden City for more than ten years. During that time, he had the opportunity to meet many celebrities who trooped through the club, including Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, Duke Ellington and Lena Horne. He also met his wife, Vicki Lee, who performed in the chorus line there, in 1947. They had two sons, Michael and Philip, and raised Vicki's son David from a previous marriage. They both performed at the Forbidden City until Charlie Low sold the club in 1961.

His stepson David Gee recalls the story Larry told about choosing not to leave San Francisco for the “big time”, “Hoagy Carmichael offered him a job to go to Hollywood and be his front man, in other words, opening act for his show. And the only reason he didn’t go was my mother didn’t want to go. So he stayed back. But he could have made it in Hollywood, had he gone with Hoagy.”

Larry's work experience after the end of the nightclub era was quite typical – unable to find work as an entertainer, Larry got a job as a truck driver for local newspapers. He did this work until his retirement in 1985.

Larry was featured in Arthur Dong's 1989 documentary, “Forbidden City,” which brought attention to the long-forgotten Chinese nightclub scene. After having been offstage for over 20 years, Larry started singing at benefits and small gigs. In 2003, he and producer Ben Fong-Torres released Larry's debut album, " 'Til the End of Time." The album features classic love songs and standards from his native Hawaii, as well as a handful of his recordings from the 1940s. Larry died just two weeks after the release of the record.

''Images courtesy of the Ching family.''

[[category: Performing Arts]] [[category:1940s]] [[category:1950s]] [[category:Chinatown]] [[category:Chinese]]

Larry Ching

2010-05-20T21:53:05Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

Source material from [http://www.http://www.amazon.com/ ''Forbidden City: The Golden Age of Chinese Nightclubs''] by [http://www.trinarobbins.com Trina Robbins].

[[File:LarryChing.jpg]] '''Larry Ching, "The Chinese Frank Sinatra", with adoring fans, c1942.'''

Larry Ching was born on the Hawaiian island of Kauai in 1921. His mother Muilan Naiwi was an opera singer who pursued her studies in Europe, leaving Larry to be raised by his father. After graduating high school, he joined the merchant marine, sailing to all the major ports of call around the Pacific Rim. One of his regular stops was San Francisco, and he never missed a chance to visit the nightclubs in Chinatown.

The nightclub scene was really starting to hop just at the time that Larry arrived. Both the Forbidden City and the Club Shanghai had just opened when Larry took a $40-a-week job as a bartender at Chinese Village. He honed his singing style behind the bar and boasted later, “I became the first singing bartender in Chinatown.”

In 1940, Forbidden City owner Charlie Low hired Larry to appear in the “All-Chinese Floor Show” at his nightclub. Larry – with his suave demeanor, smooth singing style, and easy good looks – quickly became one of the club's most popular entertainers. He performed six nights a week, singing the most popular tunes of the day accompanied by the top-notch band led by Monte Monteverdi.

[[File:LarryChingAdvertisment.jpg]] '''Advertisement for the Forbidden City nightclub featuring Larry Ching, c1942.'''

Dancer Stanley Toy said of his friend, “"I'd be talking to a pretty girl and then Larry would start to sing, and it was all over for me. If she wanted to dance, Larry would step out with her, but if it was an old, fat, ugly one, he'd lead her over to me and say, 'Stanley, you're the dancer!'"

Charlie Low, the master of marketing, billed Larry as the “Chinese Frank Sinatra,” a title the singer intensely disliked. Many Chinese nightclub performers were marketed this way, matching them up with a popular white act to entice white audiences. The message sent sometimes felt as if the “Chinese” acts were meant to astonish white audiences, who might not believe that an Asian person could sing like Frank Sinatra or dance like Fred Astaire. But some San Franciscans looked past these labels, valuing the Asian performers for their own talents and charm. San Francisco Chronicle columist Herb Caen turned the label on its head, writing that “'Frank Sinatra is really the Italian Larry Ching."

There was, of course, more overt racism to be confronted. Living and working in San Francisco throughout his life, Larry had the support of a strong Chinese-American community. But white audiences brought their prejudices into the clubs with them, and sometimes did not check them at the door. Larry, for one, struggled to stay cool when bigots attacked him. "Several times I lost control of my temper when some drunken customer called me 'Chinaman,"' he recalled. Occasionally he would get in a fight, but most of the time, he said, "I just had to take it."

[[File:LarryChing2.jpg]] '''Larry Ching in "Rhumbero" costume, c1945.'''

Larry Ching performed at the Forbidden City for more than ten years. During that time, he had the opportunity to meet many celebrities who trooped through the club, including Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, Duke Ellington and Lena Horne. He also met his wife, Vicki Lee, who performed in the chorus line there, in 1947. They had two sons, Michael and Philip, and raised Vicki's son David from a previous marriage. They both performed at the Forbidden City until Charlie Low sold the club in 1961.

His stepson David Gee recalls the story Larry told about choosing not to leave San Francisco for the “big time”, “Hoagy Carmichael offered him a job to go to Hollywood and be his front man, in other words, opening act for his show. And the only reason he didn’t go was my mother didn’t want to go. So he stayed back. But he could have made it in Hollywood, had he gone with Hoagy.”

Larry's work experience after the end of the nightclub era was quite typical – unable to find work as an entertainer, Larry got a job as a truck driver for local newspapers. He did this work until his retirement in 1985.

Larry was featured in Arthur Dong's 1989 documentary, “Forbidden City,” which brought attention to the long-forgotten Chinese nightclub scene. After having been offstage for over 20 years, Larry started singing at benefits and small gigs. In 2003, he and producer Ben Fong-Torres released Larry's debut album, " 'Til the End of Time." The album features classic love songs and standards from his native Hawaii, as well as a handful of his recordings from the 1940s. Larry died just two weeks after the release of the record.

''Images courtesy of the Ching family.''

[[category: Performing Arts]] [[category:1940s]] [[category:1950s]] [[category:Chinatown]] [[category:Chinese]]

Larry Ching

2010-05-20T21:49:21Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

Source material from [http://www.http://www.amazon.com/ ''Forbidden City: The Golden Age of Chinese Nightclubs''] by [http://www.trinarobbins.com Trina Robbins].

[[File:LarryChing.jpg]]

Larry Ching was born on the Hawaiian island of Kauai in 1921. His mother Muilan Naiwi was an opera singer who pursued her studies in Europe, leaving Larry to be raised by his father. After graduating high school, he joined the merchant marine, sailing to all the major ports of call around the Pacific Rim. One of his regular stops was San Francisco, and he never missed a chance to visit the nightclubs in Chinatown.

The nightclub scene was really starting to hop just at the time that Larry arrived. Both the Forbidden City and the Club Shanghai had just opened when Larry took a $40-a-week job as a bartender at Chinese Village. He honed his singing style behind the bar and boasted later, “I became the first singing bartender in Chinatown.”

In 1940, Forbidden City owner Charlie Low hired Larry to appear in the “All-Chinese Floor Show” at his nightclub. Larry – with his suave demeanor, smooth singing style, and easy good looks – quickly became one of the club's most popular entertainers. He performed six nights a week, singing the most popular tunes of the day accompanied by the top-notch band led by Monte Monteverdi.

[[File:LarryChingAdvertisment.jpg]]

Dancer Stanley Toy said of his friend, “"I'd be talking to a pretty girl and then Larry would start to sing,
and it was all over for me. If she wanted to dance, Larry would step out with her, but if it was an old, fat, ugly one, he'd lead her over to me and say, 'Stanley, you're the dancer!'"

Charlie Low, the master of marketing, billed Larry as the “Chinese Frank Sinatra,” a title the singer intensely disliked. Many Chinese nightclub performers were marketed this way, matching them up with a popular white act to entice white audiences. The message sent sometimes felt as if the “Chinese” acts were meant to astonish white audiences, who might not believe that an Asian person could sing like Frank Sinatra or dance like Fred Astaire. But some San Franciscans looked past these labels, valuing the Asian performers for their own talents and charm. San Francisco Chronicle columist Herb Caen turned the label on its head, writing that “'Frank Sinatra is really the Italian Larry Ching."

There was, of course, more overt racism to be confronted. Living and working in San Francisco throughout his life, Larry had the support of a strong Chinese-American community. But white audiences brought their prejudices into the clubs with them, and sometimes did not check them at the door. Larry, for one, struggled to stay cool when bigots attacked him. "Several times I lost control of my temper when some drunken customer called me 'Chinaman,"' he recalled. Occasionally he would get in a fight, but most of the time, he said, "I just had to take it."

[[File:LarryChing2.jpg]]

Larry Ching performed at the Forbidden City for more than ten years. During that time, he had the opportunity to meet many celebrities who trooped through the club, including Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, Duke Ellington and Lena Horne. He also met his wife, Vicki Lee, who performed in the chorus line there, in 1947. They had two sons, Michael and Philip, and raised Vicki's son David from a previous marriage. They both performed at the Forbidden City until Charlie Low sold the club in 1961.

His stepson David Gee recalls the story Larry told about choosing not to leave San Francisco for the “big time”, “Hoagy Carmichael offered him a job to go to Hollywood and be his front man, in other words, opening act for his show. And the only reason he didn’t go was my mother didn’t want to go. So he stayed back. But he could have made it in Hollywood, had he gone with Hoagy.”

Larry's work experience after the end of the nightclub era was quite typical – unable to find work as an entertainer, Larry got a job as a truck driver for local newspapers. He did this work until his retirement in 1985.

Larry was featured in Arthur Dong's 1989 documentary, “Forbidden City,” which brought attention to the long-forgotten Chinese nightclub scene. After having been offstage for over 20 years, Larry started singing at benefits and small gigs. In 2003, he and producer Ben Fong-Torres released Larry's debut album, " 'Til the End of Time." The album features classic love songs and standards from his native Hawaii, as well as a handful of his recordings from the 1940s. Larry died just two weeks after the release of the record.

''Images courtesy of the Ching family.''

[[category: Performing Arts]] [[category:1940s]] [[category:1950s]] [[category:Chinatown]] [[category:Chinese]]

Removal of the Butchers

2010-05-20T20:38:57Z

KMorris: new page related to Butchertown

''' Primary Source '''

Article from the San Francisco ''Bulletin'', March 21, 1870

The lots which have been assigned the butchers by the State reservation, were to have been sold by auction on last Saturday evening. The land had been surveyed by the State Surveyor, but an extra survey was found advisable, which necessitated the delay in the division of the property. The City and County Surveyor will survey the fractional parts today, and the choice lots will be sold to the highest bidder in about ten days from hence. Now that the butchers are on the eve of their removal, and the slaughterhouse and hog-ranch nuisance is about to disappear, from Brannan street, a difficulty has arisen in regard to a suitable road between their location and the city. The Long bridge passing over Islais Creek, and the Bay View road are at present the only connecting thoroughfares. There are so many objections to the use of the former for the heavy meat wagons that as it stands at present, it offers no solution to the difficulty. It is too narrow at several places in the vicinity of the cut for the wagons to pass abreast, the height of the rails would lock the wheels and obstruct the railroad cars, there is no protection against accidents at the steep embankments at either side of the cut, and finally the wear and tear of the constant traffic would make repairs a daily occurrence, and entail endless expense upon the property-holders. The matter of the tolls would also be no trifling consideration, the additional expense reverting from the butchers to the community at large.

So much for the Long Bridge; and now the Bay View road comes as the remaining thoroughfare, but in its present condition, cut up and ungraded, it would make the transportation of meat extremely difficult. To send the beef around by water, so much handling would be required that its market value would be considerably depreciated on its arrival in the city. The Bay View road is therefore the only road that can be used, and before this becomes necessary, thorough grading, with many other improvements, must alter the condition in which this most neglected of thoroughfares rests at present.

[[category:Bayview/Hunter's Point]] [[category:1870s]] [[category:Roads]]

Tony Wing

2010-04-26T17:08:31Z

KMorris:

Cynthia Yee

2010-04-23T19:16:03Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

Source material from [http://www.amazon.com/ ''Forbidden City: The Golden Age of Chinese Nightclubs''] by [http://www.trinarobbins.com Trina Robbins].

'''"Miss Chinatown 1967"'''

Cynthia Yee was born and raised in San Francisco, the youngest of four children. As a child, she lived in the same apartment building as noted Japanese-American dancer Dorothy Toy. Dorothy launched her into show business at the age of nine, sending Cynthia to a San Francisco ballet school. Cynthia studied under a Russian instructor who demanded practice and drilling to perfect her technique.

In the mid-1960s, Dorothy Toy was producing an all-Asian floorshow at Andy Wong’s Chinese Skyroom, one of the most popular nightclubs in San Francisco’s Chinatown. Dorothy was in need of a substitute dancer and called Cynthia, who was only seventeen at the time. With her parents' permission, Cynthia went on stage and began her professional career. She recalled later, "In the beginning of course everybody always said, 'Why do you let your daughter be in show business?' and Dorothy told my mom that she would take care of me, and she did. Because I was in Dorothy Toy’s show and my mother knew Dorothy as a personal friend, it was fine.” In 1967, Cynthia won the prestigious Miss Chinatown crown, performing a dance choreographed by Dorothy Toy.

Cynthia's career came just at the tail end of the golden age of Chinese nightclubs. By the late 1960s, the nightclub scene in San Francisco had been transformed. The success of Carol Doda and the strip clubs on Broadway forced many nightclub owners to incorporate more stripping and exotic dancing into their shows. The Chinese nightclubs were no exception. In this heavily competitive field, Chinese nightclub owners marketed the unique “Oriental” shows featuring “China Dolls” in seductive costumes. The Chinese strip shows were still quite tame compared to some in the city; performers typically stripped down to a bikini with generous coverage.

Cynthia performed with Dorothy Toy's act at the Chinese Skyroom for about one year before the nightclub closed. She then traveled with the show through north and south America, Japan, and Europe. Cynthia recalls that while the audiences for these shows were not Chinese, the Chinese community in each city would host the dancers whenever they came into town.

Cynthia stayed in touch with many of the nightclub dancers through the years and she continued to dance for her own health and enjoyment. In the 1990s, she was called upon to help support fundraising for the Chinese Hospital in San Francisco. She called her old friends from the nightclubs and founded the Grant Avenue Follies, a troupe that revives the golden age of Chinese nightclubs and supports charitable organizations throughout the city. In 2005, because of the community work done by the Grant Avenue Follies, Cynthia received the Jefferson Award, a prestigious national recognition system honoring community and public service in America. She also performs in a Chinese-themed magic act with the illusionist Tamaka and is the owner of San Francisco Chinatown Ghost tours, a historical walking tour through the alleyways of Chinatown.

[[category:Women]] [[category: Dance]] [[category: Performing Arts]] [[category:1960s]] [[category:Chinatown]] [[category:Chinese]]

Cynthia Yee

2010-04-12T21:41:50Z

KMorris:

Cynthia Yee

2010-04-12T21:40:26Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

Source material from [http://www.http://www.amazon.com/Forbidden-City-Chinese-Nightclubs-Communication/dp/1572739479/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1271108386&sr=1-1 ''Forbidden City: The Golden Age of Chinese Nightclubs''] by [http://www.trinarobbins.com Trina Robbins].

'''"Miss Chinatown 1967"'''

Cynthia Yee was born and raised in San Francisco, the youngest of four children. As a child, she lived in the same apartment building as noted Japanese-American dancer Dorothy Toy. Dorothy launched her into show business at the age of nine, sending Cynthia to a San Francisco ballet school. Cynthia studied under a Russian instructor who demanded practice and drilling to perfect her technique.

In the mid-1960s, Dorothy Toy was producing an all-Asian floorshow at Andy Wong’s Chinese Skyroom, one of the most popular nightclubs in San Francisco’s Chinatown. Dorothy was in need of a substitute dancer and called Cynthia, who was only seventeen at the time. With her parents' permission, Cynthia went on stage and began her professional career. Cynthia's parents trusted Dorothy to watch over their daughter and guide her in the difficult nightclub world. In 1967, Cynthia won the prestigious Miss Chinatown crown, performing a dance choreographed by Dorothy Toy.

Cynthia's career came just at the tail end of the golden age of Chinese nightclubs. By the late 1960s, the nightclub scene in San Francisco had been transformed. The success of Carol Doda and the strip clubs on Broadway forced many nightclub owners to incorporate more stripping and exotic dancing into their shows. The Chinese nightclubs were no exception. In this heavily competitive field, Chinese nightclub owners marketed the unique “Oriental” shows featuring “China Dolls” in seductive costumes. The Chinese strip shows were still quite tame compared to some in the city; performers typically stripped down to a bikini with generous coverage.

Cynthia performed with Dorothy Toy's act at the Chinese Skyroom for about one year before the nightclub closed. She then traveled with the show through north and south America, Japan, and Europe. Cynthia recalls that while the audiences for these shows were not Chinese, the Chinese community in each city would host the dancers whenever they came into town.

Cynthia stayed in touch with many of the nightclub dancers through the years and she continued to dance for her own health and enjoyment. In the 1990s, she was called upon to help support fundraising for the Chinese Hospital in San Francisco. She called her old friends from the nightclubs and founded the Grant Avenue Follies, a troupe that revives the golden age of Chinese nightclubs and supports charitable organizations throughout the city. In 2005, because of the community work done by the Grant Avenue Follies, Cynthia received the Jefferson Award, a prestigious national recognition system honoring community and public service in America. She also performs in a Chinese-themed magic act with the illusionist Tamaka and is the owner of San Francisco Chinatown Ghost tours, a historical walking tour through the alleyways of Chinatown.

[[category:Women]] [[category: Dance]] [[category: Performing Arts]] [[category:1960s]] [[category:Chinatown]] [[category:Chinese]]

Ellen Chinn

2010-04-12T17:33:53Z

KMorris: update to remove quotations from Forbidden City and images.

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Kristin Morris, San Francisco Museum and Historical Society''

'''"The Betty Grable of Chinatown"
'''

Ellen Chinn grew up in Monterey, California, the daughter of a traditional Chinese family. Like many Asian-American girls who came of age in the 1920s and 1930s, she followed the popular entertainment, music and dancing of the day. She most definitely caught the performance bug, and decided to break out on her own. In her late teens, Ellen ran away from home to perform in San Francisco's Chinatown. Her father tracked her to the city and, according to family lore, dragged her off the stage. Ellen ran away again, the second time for good.

Ellen's talent as well developed by the time Charlie Low opened his Forbidden City nightclub in 1937 in San Francisco’s Chinatown. She was on the opening night bill and continued to perform there regularly throughout her dancing career. She also had engagements of several weeks or months at other Chinatown nightspots, and special performances for conventions and other events. Like so many other performers on the Chinese nightclub circuit, Ellen was billed as a Chinese version of a white American star – in her case, Betty Grable, for her fantastic legs.

Ellen danced until she started a family in 1946. She met her husband, Robert Price, coming off the stage at the Forbidden City. There were plenty of “stage door Johnnies” looking to hook up with the dancers. But where so many failed, this young man won Ellen's heart. According to family lore, Ellen at first refused his advances, going to far as to throw a bucket of water on her as he stood beneath her apartment window. Once Ellen finally accepted Robert's advances, the two desired to marry. Robert wrote letters to several states inquiring if they could be legally married. The rejections consistently noted state laws barring marriage between a white person and a “negro” or “mongolian.” They finally married in Walla Walla, Washington, in 1942. Daughter Candace Poinciano noted that she never met her Chinese grandfather because he disapproved of the union.

Source material from ''Forbidden City: The Golden Age of Chinese Nightclubs'' by [http://www.trinarobbins.com Trina Robbins], 2009.

[[category:Women]] [[category: Dance]] [[category: Performing Arts]] [[category: Racism]] [[category:1930s]] [[category:1940s]] [[category:Chinatown]] [[category:Chinese]]

Cynthia Yee

2010-04-12T17:29:57Z

KMorris: update to remove quotations from Forbidden City and images.

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Kristin Morris, San Francisco Museum and Historical Society''

'''"Miss Chinatown 1967"'''

Cynthia Yee was born and raised in San Francisco, the youngest of four children. As a child, she lived in the same apartment building as noted Japanese-American dancer Dorothy Toy. Dorothy launched her into show business at the age of nine, sending Cynthia to a San Francisco ballet school. Cynthia studied under a Russian instructor who demanded practice and drilling to perfect her technique.

In the mid-1960s, Dorothy Toy was producing an all-Asian floorshow at Andy Wong’s Chinese Skyroom, one of the most popular nightclubs in San Francisco’s Chinatown. Dorothy was in need of a substitute dancer and called Cynthia, who was only seventeen at the time. With her parents' permission, Cynthia went on stage and began her professional career. Cynthia's parents trusted Dorothy to watch over their daughter and guide her in the difficult nightclub world. In 1967, Cynthia won the prestigious Miss Chinatown crown, performing a dance choreographed by Dorothy Toy.

Cynthia's career came just at the tail end of the golden age of Chinese nightclubs. By the late 1960s, the nightclub scene in San Francisco had been transformed. The success of Carol Doda and the strip clubs on Broadway forced many nightclub owners to incorporate more stripping and exotic dancing into their shows. The Chinese nightclubs were no exception. In this heavily competitive field, Chinese nightclub owners marketed the unique “Oriental” shows featuring “China Dolls” in seductive costumes. The Chinese strip shows were still quite tame compared to some in the city; performers typically stripped down to a bikini with generous coverage.

Cynthia performed with Dorothy Toy's act at the Chinese Skyroom for about one year before the nightclub closed. She then traveled with the show through north and south America, Japan, and Europe. Cynthia recalls that while the audiences for these shows were not Chinese, the Chinese community in each city would host the dancers whenever they came into town.

Cynthia stayed in touch with many of the nightclub dancers through the years and she continued to dance for her own health and enjoyment. In the 1990s, she was called upon to help support fundraising for the Chinese Hospital in San Francisco. She called her old friends from the nightclubs and founded the Grant Avenue Follies, a troupe that revives the golden age of Chinese nightclubs and supports charitable organizations throughout the city. In 2005, because of the community work done by the Grant Avenue Follies, Cynthia received the Jefferson Award, a prestigious national recognition system honoring community and public service in America. She also performs in a Chinese-themed magic act with the illusionist Tamaka and is the owner of San Francisco Chinatown Ghost tours, a historical walking tour through the alleyways of Chinatown.

[[category:Women]] [[category: Dance]] [[category: Performing Arts]] [[category:1960s]] [[category:Chinatown]] [[category:Chinese]]

Cynthia Yee

2010-04-08T16:38:41Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Kristin Morris, San Francisco Museum and Historical Society''

[[Image:CynthiaYee.jpg]]

'''"Miss Chinatown 1967"'''

''Image: Courtesy of Cynthia Yee''

Cynthia Yee was born and raised in San Francisco, the youngest of four children. As a child, she lived in the same apartment building as noted Japanese-American dancer Dorothy Toy. She recalls how Dorothy helped her get into show business, “At the age of 9 years old, I was so inspired by her that she sent me to ballet school. And I went to the ballet school that she was talking ballet from, Serge Tennoff, who was a Russian teacher here in San Francisco, and I guess I took about 98 years of ballet, and then I joined Dorothy’s show, and that’s how it all began.”

In the mid-1960s, Dorothy Toy was producing an all-Asian floorshow at Andy Wong’s Chinese Skyroom, one of the most popular nightclubs in San Francisco’s Chinatown. Cynthia recalls her first time on stage, “I was seventeen, right out of high school and it was in the summer, right after graduation. Dorothy gave me a phone call and said, 'I really need help. One of the girls got very ill and I need a dancer.' And I said, 'But I’m not 21 what do I do?' because they were playing at the Chinese Skyroom at that time. She said, ‘We’ll sneak you in. We have no choice.’ And that was it. In the beginning of course everybody always said, 'Why do you let your daughter be in show business?' and Dorothy told my mom that she would take care of me, and she did. Because I was in Dorothy Toy’s show and my mother knew Dorothy as a personal friend, it was fine.” In 1967, she won the prestigious Miss Chinatown crown, performing a dance choreographed by Dorothy Toy.

Cynthia's career came just at the tail end of the golden age of Chinese nightclubs. By the late 1960s, the nightclub scene in San Francisco had been transformed. The success of Carol Doda and the strip clubs on Broadway forced many nightclub owners to incorporate more stripping and exotic dancing into their shows. The Chinese nightclubs were no exception. In this heavily competitive field, Chinese nightclub owners marketed the unique “Oriental” shows featuring “China Dolls” in seductive costumes. The Chinese strip shows were still quite tame compared to some in the city; performers typically stripped down to a bikini with generous coverage.

[[Image:ToyFloorshow.jpg]]

'''Dorothy Toy's Oriental Review at the Chinese Skyroom, c1966. Cynthia Yee is in the center back row, Dorothy Toy is right of center in the front row.'''

''Image: Courtesy of Cynthia Yee''

[[Image:KimonoNumber.jpg]]

'''Dorothy Toy's Oriental Review at the Chinese Skyroom, c1966. The Kimono Number included a tame striptease.'''

''Image: Courtesy of Cynthia Yee''

Cynthia performed with Dorothy Toy's act at the Chinese Skyroom for about one year before the nightclub closed. Cynthia explains the transition, “At that time nightclubs were getting passé, 1963. So Dorothy took the show on the road, and we traveled throughout the United States, Canada, Caribbean, South America, and then on to Europe and Japan. In our opening number, we had authentic Chinese costumes from the Chinese opera, and very heavy headdresses all sequined, all embroidered, beautiful… and then Dorothy would either have the costumer or have her mother at that time, cut up all the costumes to make it very commercial and very sexy and very attractive. That‘s what we were known for -- a lot of legs. At that time you have to remember, the nightclub’s gone, people didn’t know what nightclubs were, and then the traditional Chinese dance comes, very traditional, very conservative, almost looking like wearing pajamas and then out comes Dorothy Toy in her fancy sequined outfits all cut up to show legs -- that was really something.” Cynthia also recalls that while the audiences for these shows were not Chinese, the Chinese community in each city would host the dancers whenever they came into town.

[[Image:CynthiaWithGroup.jpg]]

'''Cynthia Yee (third from right) with other Chinese nightclub dancers, c1966. Ivy Tam, who also performs in the Grant Avenue Follies, is at far right.'''

''Image: Courtesy of Cynthia Yee''

Cynthia stayed in touch with many of the nightclub dancers through the years and she continued to dance for her own health and enjoyment. In the 1990s, she was called upon to help support fundraising for the Chinese Hospital in San Francisco. She called her old friends from the nightclubs and founded the Grant Avenue Follies, a troupe that revives the golden age of Chinese nightclubs and supports charitable organizations throughout the city. In 2005, because of the community work done by the Grant Avenue Follies, Cynthia received the Jefferson Award, a prestigious national recognition system honoring community and public service in America. She also performs in a Chinese-themed magic act with the illusionist Tamaka and is the owner of San Francisco Chinatown Ghost tours, a historical walking tour through the alleyways of Chinatown.

Quotations and source material from ''Forbidden City: The Golden Age of Chinese Nightclubs'' by [http://www.trinarobbins.com Trina Robbins], 2009.

[[category:Women]] [[category: Dance]] [[category: Performing Arts]] [[category:1960s]] [[category:Chinatown]] [[category:Chinese]]

File:FinocchiosMatchbook.jpg

2009-12-12T01:13:01Z

KMorris: Matchbook from Finocchio's, 1940s; collection of the San Francisco Museum and Historical Society.

Matchbook from Finocchio's, 1940s; collection of the San Francisco Museum and Historical Society.

The Life of The Wanderer

2009-10-27T22:33:42Z

KMorris:

''' I Was There... '''

'''Memories of Frank Tucker, a self-made Westerner'''

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society''

The following letter was written by Francis William Tucker (1857-1935) on July 25, 1930, to his niece Mrs. William H. Seiple of Denver, Colorado. In the letter, Tucker recounts his overland journey from Wisconsin to Iowa to Oregon; and his migration to Washington and finally the San Francisco Bay Area. The section presented here tells of fortunes gained and lost in real estate speculation in the frontier town of Baden, present-day South San Francisco. The tale is a common one for the "self-made man" of the late 19th century. Tucker's firsthand account of the Panic of 1893 makes real the effect of financial disaster in his century and ours. Grammar and spelling mistakes appear in the original.

"The life of the wanderer, does it pay or does it not? There is many differ on this question. There is much to gain as well to lose. To stay in one place you have but 1 chance, and that is the commencement of life. To stay in one place, stay with your first calling, let it be farming or any thing you may choose. But suppose you fail in your first calling, then what? Your first chance has failed and you are lost. You have grown old and your opportunities are shut off by the young that has grown up while you are growing old. And that leaves you to pick up a new calling and fail. If you are a wanderer you learn tricks and trades and become a thief and a robber, which is called business. You must rob your neighbor or they will rob you...

In all coming years, as I set alone, my mind is not at rest. I glance back and read the trail of those years that has gone. Like a mighty river can no more return I could not be contented. As the sun would disappear in the West it seemed to create a longing in my heart to follow. And so I did. I went to Boise City, Idaho, and there I hired with a company to go to the Blue Mountains in Eastern Oregon...

From there I went to Portland, Oregon. There I bought 3 lots, and built a room house. Sold that, making clear profit of $1000, and built 2 more and sold them making a profit on each $800, total $1600. Then I continued. My next move was to Aberdeen Wash., and engaged in the same business and done well. With a nice bank account, I left for Aberdeen, Wash., on account of bad winters, too much rain. Going to San Francisco, Cal. After looking around for a week I went to a little town that was booming close to San Francisco, by the name of Baden. And there I went to work at the carpenter work. As I and my wife parted in Portland and she chose the family doctor instead of me, and then and there we divided the blanket. She took 1 little girl and I the other. Cora was the baby, so she took Cora, and I took Laura. With a broken heart, it seemed more than I could stand to think of losing my dear black-eyed baby that was the apple of my eye. My heart was filled with overflowing sorrow. More than I could stand. After deeding her some very valuable property for the support and her education, I took my dear little one in my arms and snuggling her to my breast, I started on a ocean voyage. With that little one that I had saved from the family wreck, and landed in San Francisco, Cal. A new world to start life all over anew. I dried the tears from my eyes, and drove the sorrow from my aching heart, got down on my knees and asked God help in my struggle for the right. And God granted me every thing I asked him for.

I went to Palo Alto, Stanford University, and placed my dear with a family of 3, 1 old maid and mother & dad. So she had her school and good training music, singing lesson, my sorrow and grief ended so.

I went to that town of Baden and it was a sure frontier town if there ever was one. Saloons, gambling, cow boys, dancing and a plenty of gunmen. I am here to tell you I was among strangers. I knew no one nor no one knew me. I was a long way from being broke, although no one knew it. I possessed 1 pair of overalls and a jumper, 2 hand saws, 1 hammer, and 1 little 6 x 8 tent. My hat had the top half torn of it. My face was not clean nor shaven. I secured work the next day and got my boss to go good for my week's board and borrowed $5. And you see I was sitting pretty, and I went to work and said nothing, only watched the game. If any of the boys said beer was on hand for my drink, and I was free with my $5 as long as it lasted, making myself a good sport with the boys. I never would gamble, because I was always broke. I always had .25c for beer or a smoke. After a little while I made the acquaintance of a painter that had a little shop that he kept the paint in. So I said to him let’s put up a little room on 1 end to sleep in. So we did, and the roof was just a few old boards. We had plenty straw and I did not have any use for my tent, so it would make a good cover, and I had then a plan to make me a workbench for odd jobs that I could pick up.

And I got along fine. I was to get $4.00 a day. On Saturday, the boss paid me off at 5.00 a day. I asked him about it and the answer was yes he knew it. Well I paid him the 5 and my meal ticket and bought another 1. The foreman told me to be sure and come back on Monday. Yes, I was there. So things went on fine. I slept fine and the town sure was booming, and I was saving as I could be. As always I was broke most of the time. It would not be so well if those tuff had any idea that you had any money on you. So the painter and I had picked up a set of horseshoes to pitch quoits with. In the meantime I had picked up a list of town lots and a few corners. But had not bought any because I was broke. One Sunday Jack and I was pitching horseshoes, and here was a mighty fine looking man walked over to us and said to us, "Well boys, who is the winner?" Jack answered it was a tie, and I asked him to throw off his coat and come in with us. It was agreed, and then we played for the beer. As it happened, I was the one that had to pay. It happened our new friend was a fine hand at the game. We went over to the corner, got our drink and went back. Well, he put it all over Jack and me. Well, we played all the afternoon. I got funny and wanted to know who he was and where he was from. I took a liking to him because he would speak plain and was full of fun, and Jack and I had him go over to dinner with us. So I asked if he was thinking of coming to the town. Yes was the answer, so I got busy and made him a price of a corner and 3 lots, making him 150 ft front at $39.00, and he told me to fasten them for him, and he handed me $25. Oh boy there was a start, and I was to have 5 percent. I went to the party and paid down the 25.00 and laid off to meet the boy. True to his word, the deal was made, and at once up went a bank on the corner, and stores, and a big apartment house over head. He was the headman for the Merriam Cammet [Cement] Co. of Chicago and they was to take over a great track of land and plot it for a town site, and at once the bee commenced to buzz in my bonnet. [c1890] I was just waiting for some thing like that to start, as I kept my self in the background. And I was looked on as just a carpenter, working all the time, and lived with the painter over in the shop.

I created many friends among the men that I worked with. Never said any thing about my self. No one knew me, nor cared for me. I was alone among strangers. Was very careful not to offend, but treated every one with respect that I came in contact with. Never dressed up. Always kept my place as a common workingman. Made it a ruling to use good language, no matter where I might be.

This man's name was F.M Persinger, and my name was F.W. Tucker. Mr. Persinger and Mr. Tucker become the closest of friends. Not by the puff dress and my callings, but the language that I used he saw at once that there was something behind it all. Mr. Persinger told me that he took a liking to me from the start. After the building was up and the bank had its doors for business, I ordered $1,000 to be sent to the new bank of South San Francisco as a checking account to the credit of Francis W. Tucker, from the McDonald Bank of San Francisco. And when that money was received on the Wells Fargo & Co. the next morning, I was across the street at the paint shop, with my old friend painter. I was the largest depositor and did not seem to think I was any different. Well, Mr. F.M. Persinger was living over the bank, and called his wife down in the bank, showing her the money that was received for me. And he and the Mrs. could hardly believe it. It was a complete surprise to all that knew me. And the old Wells Fargo & Co. man did not know what to say because I had fixed doors and put up shelves for his office. And the news soon spread and I was surprised to receive the many shake hands. By time I would feel embarrassed. There was a desk for a notary public for the bank of which I accepted. Also was placed in charge as head of the real estate. Business was good. The bank prospered. Deposits increased each day. I was increasing and swelling my bank accounts. My Daughter had grown to become a beautiful young lady, accomplished in her studies and music, and I once more was a proud father.

But there seemed to be a gathering ghost storm rising all over the land. A strange turn of fate revealed its self. The country went in to a slump. Business stopped. Banks closed their doors, and a panic followed. The McDonald Bank of San Francisco failed and busted our bank. [1893] We was lost and broke. In the meantime, I had branched out a little and bought a block of land, subdivided it, and had 30 lots to commence life anew. Fixed up a little real estate office in Palo Alto Stanford's University Cal. and started selling lots at $300.00 each. I soon was on my feet. Happy once more, with a few hundred dollars in the bank of San Jose, Cal.

I picked up my paper one morning and in big head lines the Bank of San Jose closed its doors, and 2 women commit suicide by shooting, 2 others jumped over the cliff in to the ocean at Santa Cruz, and I went spinning down the road to destruction. My heart was broken and so my pocket was empty. Only $75 dollars in my desk. Times was hard. No way to turn. All avenues was closed. Nothing for me. What to do? I did not know. I soon got hungry, and I was looking for something to do, and was a tramp, sleeping in different barns as night over took me. I got down to just a 1.5 cent piece, and in a little grocery I bought a loaf of bread and set by a little ditch. Soaked my bread in the water and eat it. That was my day's ration. I was tired and hungry. I had forgotten that I ever had a home. I was too proud to beg, so 1 day there was 2 tramps lying under a tree by the side of the road. I went over to them and lay down with them, and in silence I said the Lords Prayer. I looked them and could see no difference as we lay on the ground 3 of us. In our talk, one of them said he used to have a home, a wife, and a baby, and said no more. I had nothing to say, so I wandered back to San Jose, and with the help of a man that I knew when I was in business, picked me up and took me to the Russ House in San Jose, paid for my meals and a room.

Inside of a week I went to work as a porter for $15.00 a month and stayed there for 2 years. Then went back to the carpenter work, but never could get another hold on my line of real estate. I never could gather enough to start at a day's wages. So drifting down the river of time I have become an old man of 74 years. My hair is white. I try hard to hold myself together. Living in my dearest daughter’s home trying to make the best of life, holding on to that thread of life, which will soon break. And in my, lonely hours, with pleasure I recall all of those days gone, never to return.

Just like a mighty river, rolling on from day to day, men and vessels cast up on it, lost and passed away. Then do your best for one another, making, life a pleasant dream. Help a poor and weary brother, pulling hard against the stream. Yes, my dear loved ones are gone to that home that waits for us all. In those silent hours of night I dream of some one of the family, will come to me, and it seems real. Then in my waking it is only a dream. Yes, God only knows how I would love to have someone that I could look upon as a friend, to cheer me in my last days, of which grow shorter day by day. It is sad to say, but true. I must watch the setting of the sun alone...

With love and many best wishes as your loving

Uncle Frank

the old Scout

Whose race is near run. Then I will pick up the trail and follow those that has gone ahead of me."

''Reprinted with permission of Karen M. Weiss and the Tucker family.''

[[category:1890s]] [[category:San Francisco outside the city]] [[category:Real estate]]

The Life of The Wanderer

2009-10-27T22:32:54Z

KMorris: add categories

The Life of The Wanderer

2009-10-27T21:59:19Z

KMorris:

The Life of The Wanderer

2009-10-27T21:53:52Z

KMorris:

''' I Was There... '''

'''Memories of Frank Tucker, a self-made Westerner'''

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society''

The following letter was written by Frank Tucker (1857-1935) on July 25, 1930, to his niece Mrs. William H. Seiple of Denver, Colorado. In the letter, Tucker recounts his overland journey from Wisconsin to Iowa to Oregon; and his migration to Washington and finally the San Francisco Bay Area. The section presented here tells of fortunes gained and lost in real estate speculation in the frontier town of Baden, present-day South San Francisco. The tale is a common one for the "self-made man" of the late 19th century. Tucker's firsthand account of the Panic of 1893 makes real the effect of financial disaster in his century and ours. Grammar and spelling mistakes appear in the original.

"The life of the wanderer, does it pay or does it not? There is many differ on this question. There is much to gain as well to lose. To stay in one place you have but 1 chance, and that is the commencement of life. To stay in one place, stay with your first calling, let it be farming or any thing you may choose. But suppose you fail in your first calling, then what? Your first chance has failed and you are lost. You have grown old and your opportunities are shut off by the young that has grown up while you are growing old. And that leaves you to pick up a new calling and fail. If you are a wanderer you learn tricks and trades and become a thief and a robber, which is called business. You must rob your neighbor or they will rob you...

In all coming years, as I set alone, my mind is not at rest. I glance back and read the trail of those years that has gone. Like a mighty river can no more return I could not be contented. As the sun would disappear in the West it seemed to create a longing in my heart to follow. And so I did. I went to Boise City, Idaho, and there I hired with a company to go to the Blue Mountains in Eastern Oregon...

From there I went to Portland, Oregon. There I bought 3 lots, and built a room house. Sold that, making clear profit of $1000, and built 2 more and sold them making a profit on each $800, total $1600. Then I continued. My next move was to Aberdeen Wash., and engaged in the same business and done well. With a nice bank account, I left for Aberdeen, Wash., on account of bad winters, too much rain. Going to San Francisco, Cal. After looking around for a week I went to a little town that was booming close to San Francisco, by the name of Baden. And there I went to work at the carpenter work. As I and my wife parted in Portland and she chose the family doctor instead of me, and then and there we divided the blanket. She took 1 little girl and I the other. Cora was the baby, so she took Cora, and I took Laura. With a broken heart, it seemed more than I could stand to think of losing my dear black-eyed baby that was the apple of my eye. My heart was filled with overflowing sorrow. More than I could stand. After deeding her some very valuable property for the support and her education, I took my dear little one in my arms and snuggling her to my breast, I started on a ocean voyage. With that little one that I had saved from the family wreck, and landed in San Francisco, Cal. A new world to start life all over anew. I dried the tears from my eyes, and drove the sorrow from my aching heart, got down on my knees and asked God help in my struggle for the right. And God granted me every thing I asked him for.

I went to Palo Alto, Stanford University, and placed my dear with a family of 3, 1 old maid and mother & dad. So she had her school and good training music, singing lesson, my sorrow and grief ended so.

I went to that town of Baden and it was a sure frontier town if there ever was one. Saloons, gambling, cow boys, dancing and a plenty of gunmen. I am here to tell you I was among strangers. I knew no one nor no one knew me. I was a long way from being broke, although no one knew it. I possessed 1 pair of overalls and a jumper, 2 hand saws, 1 hammer, and 1 little 6 x 8 tent. My hat had the top half torn of it. My face was not clean nor shaven. I secured work the next day and got my boss to go good for my week's board and borrowed $5. And you see I was sitting pretty, and I went to work and said nothing, only watched the game. If any of the boys said beer was on hand for my drink, and I was free with my $5 as long as it lasted, making myself a good sport with the boys. I never would gamble, because I was always broke. I always had .25c for beer or a smoke. After a little while I made the acquaintance of a painter that had a little shop that he kept the paint in. So I said to him let’s put up a little room on 1 end to sleep in. So we did, and the roof was just a few old boards. We had plenty straw and I did not have any use for my tent, so it would make a good cover, and I had then a plan to make me a workbench for odd jobs that I could pick up.

And I got along fine. I was to get $4.00 a day. On Saturday, the boss paid me off at 5.00 a day. I asked him about it and the answer was yes he knew it. Well I paid him the 5 and my meal ticket and bought another 1. The foreman told me to be sure and come back on Monday. Yes, I was there. So things went on fine. I slept fine and the town sure was booming, and I was saving as I could be. As always I was broke most of the time. It would not be so well if those tuff had any idea that you had any money on you. So the painter and I had picked up a set of horseshoes to pitch quoits with. In the meantime I had picked up a list of town lots and a few corners. But had not bought any because I was broke. One Sunday Jack and I was pitching horseshoes, and here was a mighty fine looking man walked over to us and said to us, "Well boys, who is the winner?" Jack answered it was a tie, and I asked him to throw off his coat and come in with us. It was agreed, and then we played for the beer. As it happened, I was the one that had to pay. It happened our new friend was a fine hand at the game. We went over to the corner, got our drink and went back. Well, he put it all over Jack and me. Well, we played all the afternoon. I got funny and wanted to know who he was and where he was from. I took a liking to him because he would speak plain and was full of fun, and Jack and I had him go over to dinner with us. So I asked if he was thinking of coming to the town. Yes was the answer, so I got busy and made him a price of a corner and 3 lots, making him 150 ft front at $39.00, and he told me to fasten them for him, and he handed me $25. Oh boy there was a start, and I was to have 5 percent. I went to the party and paid down the 25.00 and laid off to meet the boy. True to his word, the deal was made, and at once up went a bank on the corner, and stores, and a big apartment house over head. He was the headman for the Merriam Cammet [Cement] Co. of Chicago and they was to take over a great track of land and plot it for a town site, and at once the bee commenced to buzz in my bonnet. [c1890] I was just waiting for some thing like that to start, as I kept my self in the background. And I was looked on as just a carpenter, working all the time, and lived with the painter over in the shop.

I created many friends among the men that I worked with. Never said any thing about my self. No one knew me, nor cared for me. I was alone among strangers. Was very careful not to offend, but treated every one with respect that I came in contact with. Never dressed up. Always kept my place as a common workingman. Made it a ruling to use good language, no matter where I might be.

This man's name was F.M Persinger, and my name was F.W. Tucker. Mr. Persinger and Mr. Tucker become the closest of friends. Not by the puff dress and my callings, but the language that I used he saw at once that there was something behind it all. Mr. Persinger told me that he took a liking to me from the start. After the building was up and the bank had its doors for business, I ordered $1,000 to be sent to the new bank of South San Francisco as a checking account to the credit of Francis W. Tucker, from the McDonald Bank of San Francisco. And when that money was received on the Wells Fargo & Co. the next morning, I was across the street at the paint shop, with my old friend painter. I was the largest depositor and did not seem to think I was any different. Well, Mr. F.M. Persinger was living over the bank, and called his wife down in the bank, showing her the money that was received for me. And he and the Mrs. could hardly believe it. It was a complete surprise to all that knew me. And the old Wells Fargo & Co. man did not know what to say because I had fixed doors and put up shelves for his office. And the news soon spread and I was surprised to receive the many shake hands. By time I would feel embarrassed. There was a desk for a notary public for the bank of which I accepted. Also was placed in charge as head of the real estate. Business was good. The bank prospered. Deposits increased each day. I was increasing and swelling my bank accounts. My Daughter had grown to become a beautiful young lady, accomplished in her studies and music, and I once more was a proud father.

But there seemed to be a gathering ghost storm rising all over the land. A strange turn of fate revealed its self. The country went in to a slump. Business stopped. Banks closed their doors, and a panic followed. The McDonald Bank of San Francisco failed and busted our bank. [1893] We was lost and broke. In the meantime, I had branched out a little and bought a block of land, subdivided it, and had 30 lots to commence life anew. Fixed up a little real estate office in Palo Alto Stanford's University Cal. and started selling lots at $300.00 each. I soon was on my feet. Happy once more, with a few hundred dollars in the bank of San Jose, Cal.

I picked up my paper one morning and in big head lines the Bank of San Jose closed its doors, and 2 women commit suicide by shooting, 2 others jumped over the cliff in to the ocean at Santa Cruz, and I went spinning down the road to destruction. My heart was broken and so my pocket was empty. Only $75 dollars in my desk. Times was hard. No way to turn. All avenues was closed. Nothing for me. What to do? I did not know. I soon got hungry, and I was looking for something to do, and was a tramp, sleeping in different barns as night over took me. I got down to just a 1.5 cent piece, and in a little grocery I bought a loaf of bread and set by a little ditch. Soaked my bread in the water and eat it. That was my day's ration. I was tired and hungry. I had forgotten that I ever had a home. I was too proud to beg, so 1 day there was 2 tramps lying under a tree by the side of the road. I went over to them and lay down with them, and in silence I said the Lords Prayer. I looked them and could see no difference as we lay on the ground 3 of us. In our talk, one of them said he used to have a home, a wife, and a baby, and said no more. I had nothing to say, so I wandered back to San Jose, and with the help of a man that I knew when I was in business, picked me up and took me to the Russ House in San Jose, paid for my meals and a room.

Inside of a week I went to work as a porter for $15.00 a month and stayed there for 2 years. Then went back to the carpenter work, but never could get another hold on my line of real estate. I never could gather enough to start at a day's wages. So drifting down the river of time I have become an old man of 74 years. My hair is white. I try hard to hold myself together. Living in my dearest daughter’s home trying to make the best of life, holding on to that thread of life, which will soon break. And in my, lonely hours, with pleasure I recall all of those days gone, never to return.

Just like a mighty river, rolling on from day to day, men and vessels cast up on it, lost and passed away. Then do your best for one another, making, life a pleasant dream. Help a poor and weary brother, pulling hard against the stream. Yes, my dear loved ones are gone to that home that waits for us all. In those silent hours of night I dream of some one of the family, will come to me, and it seems real. Then in my waking it is only a dream. Yes, God only knows how I would love to have someone that I could look upon as a friend, to cheer me in my last days, of which grow shorter day by day. It is sad to say, but true. I must watch the setting of the sun alone...

With love and many best wishes as your loving

Uncle Frank

the old Scout

Whose race is near run. Then I will pick up the trail and follow those that has gone ahead of me."

''Reprinted with permission of Karen M. Weiss and the Tucker family.''

The Life of The Wanderer

2009-10-27T21:48:01Z

KMorris: reprinting of letter

I Was There...

"The Life of the Wanderer..."

Memories of a self-made Westerner

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society''

The following letter was written by Frank Tucker (1857-1935) on July 25, 1930, to his niece Mrs. William H. Seiple of Denver, Colorado. In the letter, Tucker recounts his overland journey from Wisconsin to Iowa to Oregon; and his migration to Washington and finally the San Francisco Bay Area. The section presented here tells of fortunes gained and lost in real estate speculation in the frontier town of Baden, present-day South San Francisco. The tale is a common one for the "self-made man" of the late 19th century. Tucker's firsthand account of the Panic of 1893 makes real the effect of financial disaster in his century and ours. Grammar and spelling mistakes appear in the original.

"The life of the wanderer, does it pay or does it not? There is many differ on this question. There is much to gain as well to lose. To stay in one place you have but 1 chance, and that is the commencement of life. To stay in one place, stay with your first calling, let it be farming or any thing you may choose. But suppose you fail in your first calling, then what? Your first chance has failed and you are lost. You have grown old and your opportunities are shut off by the young that has grown up while you are growing old. And that leaves you to pick up a new calling and fail. If you are a wanderer you learn tricks and trades and become a thief and a robber, which is called business. You must rob your neighbor or they will rob you...

In all coming years, as I set alone, my mind is not at rest. I glance back and read the trail of those years that has gone. Like a mighty river can no more return I could not be contented. As the sun would disappear in the West it seemed to create a longing in my heart to follow. And so I did. I went to Boise City, Idaho, and there I hired with a company to go to the Blue Mountains in Eastern Oregon...

From there I went to Portland, Oregon. There I bought 3 lots, and built a room house. Sold that, making clear profit of $1000, and built 2 more and sold them making a profit on each $800, total $1600. Then I continued. My next move was to Aberdeen Wash., and engaged in the same business and done well. With a nice bank account, I left for Aberdeen, Wash., on account of bad winters, too much rain. Going to San Francisco, Cal. After looking around for a week I went to a little town that was booming close to San Francisco, by the name of Baden. And there I went to work at the carpenter work. As I and my wife parted in Portland and she chose the family doctor instead of me, and then and there we divided the blanket. She took 1 little girl and I the other. Cora was the baby, so she took Cora, and I took Laura. With a broken heart, it seemed more than I could stand to think of losing my dear black-eyed baby that was the apple of my eye. My heart was filled with overflowing sorrow. More than I could stand. After deeding her some very valuable property for the support and her education, I took my dear little one in my arms and snuggling her to my breast, I started on a ocean voyage. With that little one that I had saved from the family wreck, and landed in San Francisco, Cal. A new world to start life all over anew. I dried the tears from my eyes, and drove the sorrow from my aching heart, got down on my knees and asked God help in my struggle for the right. And God granted me every thing I asked him for.

I went to Palo Alto, Stanford University, and placed my dear with a family of 3, 1 old maid and mother & dad. So she had her school and good training music, singing lesson, my sorrow and grief ended so.

I went to that town of Baden and it was a sure frontier town if there ever was one. Saloons, gambling, cow boys, dancing and a plenty of gunmen. I am here to tell you I was among strangers. I knew no one nor no one knew me. I was a long way from being broke, although no one knew it. I possessed 1 pair of overalls and a jumper, 2 hand saws, 1 hammer, and 1 little 6 x 8 tent. My hat had the top half torn of it. My face was not clean nor shaven. I secured work the next day and got my boss to go good for my week's board and borrowed $5. And you see I was sitting pretty, and I went to work and said nothing, only watched the game. If any of the boys said beer was on hand for my drink, and I was free with my $5 as long as it lasted, making myself a good sport with the boys. I never would gamble, because I was always broke. I always had .25c for beer or a smoke. After a little while I made the acquaintance of a painter that had a little shop that he kept the paint in. So I said to him let’s put up a little room on 1 end to sleep in. So we did, and the roof was just a few old boards. We had plenty straw and I did not have any use for my tent, so it would make a good cover, and I had then a plan to make me a workbench for odd jobs that I could pick up.

And I got along fine. I was to get $4.00 a day. On Saturday, the boss paid me off at 5.00 a day. I asked him about it and the answer was yes he knew it. Well I paid him the 5 and my meal ticket and bought another 1. The foreman told me to be sure and come back on Monday. Yes, I was there. So things went on fine. I slept fine and the town sure was booming, and I was saving as I could be. As always I was broke most of the time. It would not be so well if those tuff had any idea that you had any money on you. So the painter and I had picked up a set of horseshoes to pitch quoits with. In the meantime I had picked up a list of town lots and a few corners. But had not bought any because I was broke. One Sunday Jack and I was pitching horseshoes, and here was a mighty fine looking man walked over to us and said to us, "Well boys, who is the winner?" Jack answered it was a tie, and I asked him to throw off his coat and come in with us. It was agreed, and then we played for the beer. As it happened, I was the one that had to pay. It happened our new friend was a fine hand at the game. We went over to the corner, got our drink and went back. Well, he put it all over Jack and me. Well, we played all the afternoon. I got funny and wanted to know who he was and where he was from. I took a liking to him because he would speak plain and was full of fun, and Jack and I had him go over to dinner with us. So I asked if he was thinking of coming to the town. Yes was the answer, so I got busy and made him a price of a corner and 3 lots, making him 150 ft front at $39.00, and he told me to fasten them for him, and he handed me $25. Oh boy there was a start, and I was to have 5 percent. I went to the party and paid down the 25.00 and laid off to meet the boy. True to his word, the deal was made, and at once up went a bank on the corner, and stores, and a big apartment house over head. He was the headman for the Merriam Cammet [Cement] Co. of Chicago and they was to take over a great track of land and plot it for a town site, and at once the bee commenced to buzz in my bonnet. [c1890] I was just waiting for some thing like that to start, as I kept my self in the background. And I was looked on as just a carpenter, working all the time, and lived with the painter over in the shop.

I created many friends among the men that I worked with. Never said any thing about my self. No one knew me, nor cared for me. I was alone among strangers. Was very careful not to offend, but treated every one with respect that I came in contact with. Never dressed up. Always kept my place as a common workingman. Made it a ruling to use good language, no matter where I might be.

This man's name was F.M Persinger, and my name was F.W. Tucker. Mr. Persinger and Mr. Tucker become the closest of friends. Not by the puff dress and my callings, but the language that I used he saw at once that there was something behind it all. Mr. Persinger told me that he took a liking to me from the start. After the building was up and the bank had its doors for business, I ordered $1,000 to be sent to the new bank of South San Francisco as a checking account to the credit of Francis W. Tucker, from the McDonald Bank of San Francisco. And when that money was received on the Wells Fargo & Co. the next morning, I was across the street at the paint shop, with my old friend painter. I was the largest depositor and did not seem to think I was any different. Well, Mr. F.M. Persinger was living over the bank, and called his wife down in the bank, showing her the money that was received for me. And he and the Mrs. could hardly believe it. It was a complete surprise to all that knew me. And the old Wells Fargo & Co. man did not know what to say because I had fixed doors and put up shelves for his office. And the news soon spread and I was surprised to receive the many shake hands. By time I would feel embarrassed. There was a desk for a notary public for the bank of which I accepted. Also was placed in charge as head of the real estate. Business was good. The bank prospered. Deposits increased each day. I was increasing and swelling my bank accounts. My Daughter had grown to become a beautiful young lady, accomplished in her studies and music, and I once more was a proud father.

But there seemed to be a gathering ghost storm rising all over the land. A strange turn of fate revealed its self. The country went in to a slump. Business stopped. Banks closed their doors, and a panic followed. The McDonald Bank of San Francisco failed and busted our bank. [1893] We was lost and broke. In the meantime, I had branched out a little and bought a block of land, subdivided it, and had 30 lots to commence life anew. Fixed up a little real estate office in Palo Alto Stanford's University Cal. and started selling lots at $300.00 each. I soon was on my feet. Happy once more, with a few hundred dollars in the bank of San Jose, Cal.

I picked up my paper one morning and in big head lines the Bank of San Jose closed its doors, and 2 women commit suicide by shooting, 2 others jumped over the cliff in to the ocean at Santa Cruz, and I went spinning down the road to destruction. My heart was broken and so my pocket was empty. Only $75 dollars in my desk. Times was hard. No way to turn. All avenues was closed. Nothing for me. What to do? I did not know. I soon got hungry, and I was looking for something to do, and was a tramp, sleeping in different barns as night over took me. I got down to just a 1.5 cent piece, and in a little grocery I bought a loaf of bread and set by a little ditch. Soaked my bread in the water and eat it. That was my day's ration. I was tired and hungry. I had forgotten that I ever had a home. I was too proud to beg, so 1 day there was 2 tramps lying under a tree by the side of the road. I went over to them and lay down with them, and in silence I said the Lords Prayer. I looked them and could see no difference as we lay on the ground 3 of us. In our talk, one of them said he used to have a home, a wife, and a baby, and said no more. I had nothing to say, so I wandered back to San Jose, and with the help of a man that I knew when I was in business, picked me up and took me to the Russ House in San Jose, paid for my meals and a room.

Inside of a week I went to work as a porter for $15.00 a month and stayed there for 2 years. Then went back to the carpenter work, but never could get another hold on my line of real estate. I never could gather enough to start at a day's wages. So drifting down the river of time I have become an old man of 74 years. My hair is white. I try hard to hold myself together. Living in my dearest daughter’s home trying to make the best of life, holding on to that thread of life, which will soon break. And in my, lonely hours, with pleasure I recall all of those days gone, never to return.

Just like a mighty river, rolling on from day to day, men and vessels cast up on it, lost and passed away. Then do your best for one another, making, life a pleasant dream. Help a poor and weary brother, pulling hard against the stream. Yes, my dear loved ones are gone to that home that waits for us all. In those silent hours of night I dream of some one of the family, will come to me, and it seems real. Then in my waking it is only a dream. Yes, God only knows how I would love to have someone that I could look upon as a friend, to cheer me in my last days, of which grow shorter day by day. It is sad to say, but true. I must watch the setting of the sun alone...

With love and many best wishes as your loving

Uncle Frank

the old Scout

Whose race is near run. Then I will pick up the trail and follow those that has gone ahead of me."

''
Reprinted with permission of Karen M. Weiss and the Tucker family.''

Samuel Brannan

2009-09-29T22:18:17Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Monika Trobits

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society'' May 2009

Samuel Brannan (1819-1889) arrived in in California in the late 1840s and turned into a real San Francisco character. He not only impacted San Francisco and the Bay Area, but California as a whole in the last half of the 19th century. Today when driving down Brannan Street or stopping at one of its intersections, perhaps residents and visitors alike wonder what or who the name Brannan refers to. They may be surprised to discover that he was a mover and shaker of his day and the pioneer California capitalist, the first in a long line of many.

An elder in the Mormon Church, he arrived in 1846 from New York on the ship Brooklyn leading a group of 238 Mormons to the West. The intention was to meet up with a group of Mormons coming overland. Brigham Young, however, decided to stop with his group on the shores of the Great Salt Lake rather than continuing on to the coast. Later when Brannan was accused of flagrantly diverting tithe money for his own investments in California, Young sent out a group of church deputies from Salt Lake to retrieve 'the Lord's money' from Brannan. Brannan told this group that he would do so when he received a receipt signed by the Lord. No receipt was forthcoming but expulsion from the Mormon Church was.

Taking seriously the continuous rumors of a significant gold discovery along the American River, Brannan bought up every available item that he thought would be a mining necessity and filled his store and warehouses with them. He then earned $36,000 in the first nine weeks of the [[The_Gold_Rush:_Behind_the_Hype|Gold Rush]] selling equipment and provisions to the miners. Brannan single-handedly set off the rush by running up and down Montgomery Street and around Portsmouth Square with a glass jar filled with gold. Waving it over his head, he declared to all he encountered that gold had been discovered on the American River.

Word spread like wildfire and San Francisco was on its way to becoming the City of Gold and the Queen City of the West. The rush became a stampede and in the process, the City was transformed. Part of the transformation was caused by the multitudes of eager would-be miners pouring into the City which ultimately led to a significant increase in crime. That led to the formation of a [[Vigilante_Committees|vigilante group]] of which Brannan was one of the founders. Later he would be expelled from its leadership.

With presses brought from New York, Brannan set up the [[San_Francisco_Newspapers|City's first newspaper]], the ''California Star'', which became a forum for his outspokenness. In the late 1850s, he bought land in Napa Valley intending to create a resort capitalizing on the area's natural hot springs. He wanted to establish the "Saratoga of California", the names combined into Calistoga. It was charming and pleasant and we all still enjoy it today, but it did not become the moneymaker he envisioned.

Brannan strutted around the City dressed elegantly in beaver hats and fancy clothes. He was the man-about-town who entertained lavishly and contributed generously to charities while at the same time hedging on paying his taxes. In addition to the California Star, he owned a flour mill, the best land in the area and speculated on the constant stream of goods that regularly poured into the City. For a while, everything he touched seemed to turn into gold.

Brannan became the first millionaire in California due to the Gold Rush and yet never mined a day in his life. Changing times changed his fortunes and as land values in the Bay Area fell, Brannan found himself overextended. It was the turning point for him exacerbated by excessive drinking and gambling, plus an expensive divorce settlement. He drifted down to San Diego County and the man who had talked big and bought big died impoverished in an Escondido boarding house in 1889. Brannan was 70 and for a year, his body was stored until burial costs could be raised.

[[category:1840s]] [[category:1850s]] [[category:Famous characters]] [[category:Gold Rush]] [[category:Newspapers]]

Star of the Sea School

2009-09-08T16:58:36Z

KMorris:

''' Unfinished History '''

[[Image:StarOfSeaSchool1926.jpg]]

Students from Star of the Sea School, seated on the steps of the Richmond District branch of the Public Library, 1926. Star of the Sea school was founded in 1909 to serve the congregation of Star of the Sea Catholic Church in the Richmond District.

''Collection of the San Francisco Museum and Historical Society.''

Star of the Sea School

2009-09-08T16:57:26Z

KMorris:

Star of the Sea School

2009-09-08T16:56:32Z

KMorris: Created new page

''' Unfinished History '''

[[Image:StarofSeaSchool1926.jpg]]

Students from Star of the Sea School, seated on the steps of the Richmond District branch of the Public Library, 1926. Star of the Sea school was founded in 1909 to serve the congregation of Star of the Sea Catholic Church in the Richmond District.

File:StarOfSeaSchool1926.jpg

2009-09-08T16:52:09Z

KMorris: Star of the Sea parish school, 1926.

Star of the Sea parish school, 1926.

Fremont Older - Newspaperman

2009-08-25T23:50:14Z

KMorris:

''' Unfinished History '''

''by Hank Chapot''

[[Image:Fremont Older June 1930 AAD-2962.jpg]]

'''Fremont Older, 1930'''

''Photo: San Francisco History Center, SF Public Library''

Fremont Older (30 August 1856 - 3 March 1935) was born in a log cabin in Wisconsin. He was a newspaperman and editor in San Francisco, California for nearly fifty years. He is best known for his campaigns against civic corruption and efforts on behalf of [[TOM MOONEY|Tom Mooney and Warren Billings]], wrongly convicted of the Preparedness Day bombing of 1916.

Older began his working life at age twelve as an apprentice printer, he claimed, after reading the story of Horace Greeley. He worked in Virginia City, Nevada, on the ''Enterprise'', then moved on to the ''Redwood City Journal'', later writing for the ''Alta California''.

In 1895, Older became managing editor of the ''San Francisco Bulletin'' (later merged with the ''San Francisco Call'' in 1929), and gained notoriety when he took on the [[Abe Ruef and the Union Labor Party|Boss Abe Ruef machine]] in San Francisco, during the mayoralty of Eugene Schmitz, which led to the corruption trials during the rebuilding of San Francisco following the 1906 Earthquake and fire.

At one point, Older was kidnapped and threatened with murder by persons unknown, but said to be working for the grafters. In his later years at the Bulletin, Older was offended by the owner's rewriting of his editorials and refusal to commit to a lifelong appointment, so after twenty-three years of service, he resigned in 1918 and went to William Randolph Hearst's paper, the ''San Francisco Call''. Along with talented staff, he brought the Mooney case and numerous other stories that the ''Bulletin'' owner had refused to carry, including the Fair will case involving a state Supreme court justice and a bribe amounting to $100,000.

Older originally believed Mooney was guilty, but changed his mind and spent twenty years working for Mooney and Billings release, although it was reported that he disliked Mooney, thinking him worthy of jail for real crimes, but not for the bombing at Steuart and Market for which he was jailed. For his efforts, Older was called a Communist, a Wobbly, a syndicalist and traitor, but Hearst backed him. Older died a few years before Mooney was pardoned by California Governor Culbert Olson in 1939.

Older was also an early defender of [[Prostitute March 1917|prostitutes]], having published a story at the ''Bulletin'' in 1917 entitled "A Voice from the Underworld, by Alice Smith".The article also increased the circulation of the ''Bulletin''.

Older was a long time friend and correspondent with Clarence Darrow and was known as a friend to the poor. He regularly tried to reform drunkards and criminals with mixed success. After twenty years of attempting to help such persons, Older said, "I'm sorry, but I must admit that of the scores I have helped, all but one or two have failed me."

* The World War II Liberty ship, the ''S.S. Fremont Older'', was named for Older.
* The "Fremont Older Open Space Preserve" is also named for Older.

'''Resources'''

''Gaudy Century, the story of San Francisco's hundred years of robust journalism'' - John Bruce - Random House N.Y. 1948

''My Own Story - Fremont Older'' - Macmillan N. Y. 1926. Focuses on the San Francisco newspaper and political scene 1895-1917, rather than on Older's biography.

See also, [[Fremont Older: Newsman, Statesman, Thinker|Fremont Older]].

[[category:media]] [[category:newspapers]] [[category:Famous characters]] [[category:1890s]] [[category:1910s]] [[category:1920s]] [[category:1900s]] [[category:Labor]] [[category:Power and Money]]

Fremont Older - Newspaperman

2009-08-25T23:47:09Z

KMorris: fixed broken link

''' Unfinished History '''

''by Hank Chapot''

[[Image:Fremont Older June 1930 AAD-2962.jpg]]

'''Fremont Older, 1930'''

''Photo: San Francisco History Center, SF Public Library''

Fremont Older (30 August 1856 - 3 March 1935) was born in a log cabin in Wisconsin. He was a newspaperman and editor in San Francisco, California for nearly fifty years. He is best known for his campaigns against civic corruption and efforts on behalf of [[TOM MOONEY|Tom Mooney and Warren Billings]], wrongly convicted of the Preparedness Day bombing of 1916.

Older began his working life at age twelve as an apprentice printer, he claimed, after reading the story of Horace Greeley. He worked in Virginia City, Nevada, on the ''Enterprise'', then moved on to the ''Redwood City Journal'', later writing for the ''Alta California''.

In 1895, Older became managing editor of the ''San Francisco Bulletin'' (later merged with the ''San Francisco Call'' in 1929), and gained notoriety when he took on the [[Abe Ruef and the Union Labor Party|Boss Abe Ruef machine]] in San Francisco, during the mayoralty of Eugene Schmitz, which led to the corruption trials during the rebuilding of San Francisco following the 1906 Earthquake and fire.

At one point, Older was kidnapped and threatened with murder by persons unknown, but said to be working for the grafters. In his later his years at the Bulletin, Older was offended by the owner's rewriting of his editorials and refusal to commit to a lifelong appointment, so after twenty-three years of service, he resigned in 1918 and went to William Randolph Hearst's paper, the ''San Francisco Call''. Along with talented staff, he brought the Mooney case and numerous other stories that the ''Bulletin'' owner had refused to carry, including the Fair will case involving a state Supreme court justice and a bribe amounting to $100,000.

Older originally believed Mooney was guilty, but changed his mind and spent twenty years working for Mooney and Billings release, although it was reported that he disliked Mooney, thinking him worthy of jail for real crimes, but not for the bombing at Stuart and Market for which he was jailed. For his efforts, Older was called a Communist, a Wobbly, a syndicalist and traitor, but Hearst backed him. Older died a few years before Mooney was pardoned by California Governor Culbert Olson in 1939.

Older was also an early defender of [[Prostitute March 1917|prostitutes]], having published a story at the ''Bulletin'' in 1917 entitled "A Voice from the Underworld, by Alice Smith".The article also increased the circulation of the ''Bulletin''.

Older was a long time friend and correspondent with Clarence Darrow and was known as a friend to the poor. He regularly tried to reform drunkards and criminals with mixed success. After twenty years of attempting to help such persons, Older said, "I'm sorry, but I must admit that of the scores I have helped, all but one or two have failed me."

* The World War II Liberty ship, the ''S.S. Fremont Older'', was named for Older.
* The "Fremont Older Open Space Preserve" is also named for Older.

'''Resources'''

''Gaudy Century, the story of San Francisco's hundred years of robust journalism'' - John Bruce - Random House N.Y. 1948

''My Own Story - Fremont Older'' - Macmillan N. Y. 1926. Focuses on the San Francisco newspaper and political scene 1895-1917, rather than on Older's biography.

See also, [[Fremont Older: Newsman, Statesman, Thinker|Fremont Older]].

[[category:media]] [[category:newspapers]] [[category:Famous characters]] [[category:1890s]] [[category:1910s]] [[category:1920s]] [[category:1900s]] [[category:Labor]] [[category:Power and Money]]

User:KMorris

2009-08-24T23:51:38Z

KMorris: Kristin's profile page

'''Kristin Morris''' is the Associate Curator of the San Francisco Museum and Historical Society and a member of FoundSF's Editorial Committee.

I have a B.A. in history from the University of Virginia and an M.A. in history from the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. I grew up in San Mateo County and prior to working in San Francisco, I was a curator and educator at History San Jose.

In my work, I've studied a wide variety of topics relating to U.S. history from beginning to end. I especially like to think about migration and how the dynamics of migration impact individuals, families, and societies. I am particularly fond of the Great Depression but find myself more and more drawn to the Cold War. I have conducted oral histories, worked in a variety of museum and archives settings, and met some really awesome history enthusiasts.

I do believe that anyone can study history, write history and contribute to our understanding of the past. I enjoy being part of this community which gives people a platform to share their stories and add depth and nuance to so many stories that have already been told.

I can be reached at kmorris@sfhistory.org.

Samuel Brannan

2009-08-21T19:19:34Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Monika Trobits

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society'' May 2009

Samuel Brannan (1819-1889) arrived in in California in the late 1840s and turned into a real San Francisco character. He not only impacted San Francisco and the Bay Area, but California as a whole in the last half of the 19th century. Today when driving down Brannan Street or stopping at one of its intersections, perhaps residents and visitors alike wonder what or who the name Brannan refers to. They may be surprised to discover that he was a mover and shaker of his day and the pioneer California capitalist, the first in a long line of many.

An elder in the Mormon Church, he arrived in 1846 from New York on the ship Brooklyn leading a group of 238 Mormons to the West. The intention was to meet up with a group of Mormons coming overland. Brigham Young, however, decided to stop with his group on the shores of the Great Salt Lake rather than continuing on to the coast. Later when Brannan was accused of flagrantly diverting tithe money for his own investments in California, Young sent out a group of church deputies from Salt Lake to retrieve 'the Lord's money' from Brannan. Brannan told this group that he would do so when he received a receipt signed by the Lord. No receipt was forthcoming but expulsion from the Mormon Church was.

Taking seriously the continuous rumors of a significant gold discovery along the American River, Brannan bought up every available item that he thought would be a mining necessity and filled his store and warehouses with them. He then earned $36,000 in the first nine weeks of the [[The_Gold_Rush:_Behind_the_Hype|Gold Rush]] selling equipment and provisions to the miners. Brannan single-handedly set off the rush by running up and down Montgomery Street and around Portsmouth Square with a glass jar filled with gold. Waving it over his head, he declared to all he encountered that gold had been discovered on the American River.

Word spread like wildfire and San Francisco was on its way to becoming the City of Gold and the Queen City of the West. The rush became a stampede and in the process, the City was transformed. Part of the transformation was caused by the multitudes of eager would-be miners pouring into the City which ultimately led to a significant increase in crime. That led to the formation of a [[Vigilante_Committees|vigilante group]] of which Brannan was one of the founders. Later he would be expelled from its leadership.

With presses brought from New York, Brannan set up the [[San_Francisco_Newspapers|City's first newspaper]], the California Star, the ''California Star'', which became a forum for his outspokenness. In the late 1850s, he bought land in Napa Valley intending to create a resort capitalizing on the area's natural hot springs. He wanted to establish the "Saratoga of California", the names combined into Calistoga. It was charming and pleasant and we all still enjoy it today, but it did not become the moneymaker he envisioned.

Brannan strutted around the City dressed elegantly in beaver hats and fancy clothes. He was the man-about-town who entertained lavishly and contributed generously to charities while at the same time hedging on paying his taxes. In addition to the California Star, he owned a flour mill, the best land in the area and speculated on the constant stream of goods that regularly poured into the City. For a while, everything he touched seemed to turn into gold.

Brannan became the first millionaire in California due to the Gold Rush and yet never mined a day in his life. Changing times changed his fortunes and as land values in the Bay Area fell, Brannan found himself overextended. It was the turning point for him exacerbated by excessive drinking and gambling, plus an expensive divorce settlement. He drifted down to San Diego County and the man who had talked big and bought big died impoverished in an Escondido boarding house in 1889. Brannan was 70 and for a year, his body was stored until burial costs could be raised.

[[category:1840s]] [[category:1850s]] [[category:Famous Characters]] [[category:Gold Rush]] [[category:Newspapers]]

Samuel Brannan

2009-08-21T19:15:05Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Monika Trobits

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society'' May 2009

Samuel Brannan (1819-1889) arrived in in California in the late 1840s and turned into a real San Francisco character. He not only impacted San Francisco and the Bay Area, but California as a whole in the last half of the 19th century. Today when driving down Brannan Street or stopping at one of its intersections, perhaps residents and visitors alike wonder what or who the name Brannan refers to. They may be surprised to discover that he was a mover and shaker of his day and the pioneer California capitalist, the first in a long line of many.

An elder in the Mormon Church, he arrived in 1846 from New York on the ship Brooklyn leading a group of 238 Mormons to the West. The intention was to meet up with a group of Mormons coming overland. Brigham Young, however, decided to stop with his group on the shores of the Great Salt Lake rather than continuing on to the coast. Later when Brannan was accused of flagrantly diverting tithe money for his own investments in California, Young sent out a group of church deputies from Salt Lake to retrieve 'the Lord's money' from Brannan. Brannan told this group that he would do so when he received a receipt signed by the Lord. No receipt was forthcoming but expulsion from the Mormon Church was.

Taking seriously the continuous rumors of a significant gold discovery along the American River, Brannan bought up every available item that he thought would be a mining necessity and filled his store and warehouses with them. He then earned $36,000 in the first nine weeks of the [[The_Gold_Rush:_Behind_the_Hype|Gold Rush]] selling equipment and provisions to the miners. Brannan single-handedly set off the rush by running up and down Montgomery Street and around Portsmouth Square with a glass jar filled with gold. Waving it over his head, he declared to all he encountered that gold had been discovered on the American River.

Word spread like wildfire and San Francisco was on its way to becoming the City of Gold and the Queen City of the West. The rush became a stampede and in the process, the City was transformed. Part of the transformation was caused by the multitudes of eager would-be miners pouring into the City which ultimately led to a significant increase in crime. That led to the formation of a vigilante group of which Brannan was one of the founders. Later he would be expelled from its leadership.

With presses brought from New York, Brannan set up the [[San_Francisco_Newspapers|City's first newspaper]], the California Star, the ''California Star'', which became a forum for his outspokenness. In the late 1850s, he bought land in Napa Valley intending to create a resort capitalizing on the area's natural hot springs. He wanted to establish the "Saratoga of California", the names combined into Calistoga. It was charming and pleasant and we all still enjoy it today, but it did not become the moneymaker he envisioned.

Brannan strutted around the City dressed elegantly in beaver hats and fancy clothes. He was the man-about-town who entertained lavishly and contributed generously to charities while at the same time hedging on paying his taxes. In addition to the California Star, he owned a flour mill, the best land in the area and speculated on the constant stream of goods that regularly poured into the City. For a while, everything he touched seemed to turn into gold.

Brannan became the first millionaire in California due to the Gold Rush and yet never mined a day in his life. Changing times changed his fortunes and as land values in the Bay Area fell, Brannan found himself overextended. It was the turning point for him exacerbated by excessive drinking and gambling, plus an expensive divorce settlement. He drifted down to San Diego County and the man who had talked big and bought big died impoverished in an Escondido boarding house in 1889. Brannan was 70 and for a year, his body was stored until burial costs could be raised.

[[category:1840s]] [[category:1850s]] [[category:Famous Characters]] [[category:Gold Rush]] [[category:Newspapers]]

Samuel Brannan

2009-08-21T19:07:50Z

KMorris: Created page with '''' Historical Essay ''' ''by Monika Trobits ''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society'' May ...'

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Monika Trobits

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society'' May 2009

Samuel Brannan (1819-1889) arrived in in California in the late 1840s and turned into a real San Francisco character. He not only impacted San Francisco and the Bay Area, but California as a whole in the last half of the 19th century. Today when driving down Brannan Street or stopping at one of its intersections, perhaps residents and visitors alike wonder what or who the name Brannan refers to. They may be surprised to discover that he was a mover and shaker of his day and the pioneer California capitalist, the first in a long line of many.

An elder in the Mormon Church, he arrived in 1846 from New York on the ship Brooklyn leading a group of 238 Mormons to the West. The intention was to meet up with a group of Mormons coming overland. Brigham Young, however, decided to stop with his group on the shores of the Great Salt Lake rather than continuing on to the coast. Later when Brannan was accused of flagrantly diverting tithe money for his own investments in California, Young sent out a group of church deputies from Salt Lake to retrieve 'the Lord's money' from Brannan. Brannan told this group that he would do so when he received a receipt signed by the Lord. No receipt was forthcoming but expulsion from the Mormon Church was.

Taking seriously the continuous rumors of a significant gold discovery along the American River, Brannan bought up every available item that he thought would be a mining necessity and filled his store and warehouses with them. He then earned $36,000 in the first nine weeks of the Gold Rush selling equipment and provisions to the miners. Brannan single-handedly set off the rush by running up and down Montgomery Street and around Portsmouth Square with a glass jar filled with gold. Waving it over his head, he declared to all he encountered that gold had been discovered on the American River.

Word spread like wildfire and San Francisco was on its way to becoming the City of Gold and the Queen City of the West. The rush became a stampede and in the process, the City was transformed. Part of the transformation was caused by the multitudes of eager would-be miners pouring into the City which ultimately led to a significant increase in crime. That led to the formation of a vigilante group of which Brannan was one of the founders. Later he would be expelled from its leadership.

With presses brought from New York, Brannan set up the City's first newspaper, the ''California Star'', which became a forum for his outspokenness. In the late 1850s, he bought land in Napa Valley intending to create a resort capitalizing on the area's natural hot springs. He wanted to establish the "Saratoga of California", the names combined into Calistoga. It was charming and pleasant and we all still enjoy it today, but it did not become the moneymaker he envisioned.

Brannan strutted around the City dressed elegantly in beaver hats and fancy clothes. He was the man-about-town who entertained lavishly and contributed generously to charities while at the same time hedging on paying his taxes. In addition to the California Star, he owned a flour mill, the best land in the area and speculated on the constant stream of goods that regularly poured into the City. For a while, everything he touched seemed to turn into gold.

Brannan became the first millionaire in California due to the Gold Rush and yet never mined a day in his life. Changing times changed his fortunes and as land values in the Bay Area fell, Brannan found himself overextended. It was the turning point for him exacerbated by excessive drinking and gambling, plus an expensive divorce settlement. He drifted down to San Diego County and the man who had talked big and bought big died impoverished in an Escondido boarding house in 1889. Brannan was 70 and for a year, his body was stored until burial costs could be raised.

Shigeyoshi Murao

2009-08-21T18:47:35Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society'' Summer 2009

Shigeyoshi Murao was arrested on June 3, 1957 for selling a copy of [[Allen_Ginsberg|Allen Ginsberg’s]] Howl and Other Poems to two undercover San Francisco police officers for 75 cents at the famed [[Publishers_as_Enemies_of_the_State:_City_Lights_Books|City Lights bookstore]]. Some years later, his incredulous exclamation captured the disbelief at the heart of San Francisco’s [[The_Howl_Obscenity_Trial|famous obscenity trial]]: “Imagine being arrested for selling poetry!”

Much of the publicity surrounding the Howl trial focused on Lawrence Ferlinghetti, the bookstore’s owner and a close associate of many influential writers of the Beat movement. However Murao, who managed City Lights for more than two decades, committed the actual act of selling a book of poetry deemed obscene for its raw, explicit language and graphic sexual and homosexual imagery.

Ferlinghetti would later say that Murao sacrificed more than he did to stand up for First Amendment rights and freedom of speech and artistic expression. A Nisei whose family had been interned in a camp in Idaho during World War II, Murao’s arrest brought great shame to his family within the Japanese community. “To me, he was the real hero of this tale of sound and fury, signifying everything,” Ferlinghetti wrote in later years.

Murao’s name was cleared when the prosecution could not prove that the bookstore manager had knowledge of the book’s contents when he sold it. The American Civil Liberties Union defended both Murao and Ferlinghetti. In October 1957, Judge Clayton Horn, who happened to teach Bible classes on Sundays, ultimately found the poem “of redeeming social importance.” The Howl trial was a major victory for freedom of artistic expression.

Commonly known as Shig, Murao was a fixture in his North Beach neighborhood and behind the cash register at City Lights, where he could usually be spotted drinking a Coca-Cola. His personality set the tone for the famous bookstore and many patrons considered him the heart of the literary gathering spot. Shig managed the bookstore until 1976.

In his novel ''The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test'', Tom Wolfe described Murao as "the Nipponese panjandrum of the place, sat glowering with his beard hanging down like those strands of furze and fern in an architect's drawing, drooping over the volumes by the cash register."

A Seattle native, he served with the U.S. military intelligence service during the occupation of Japan after being released from internment camp.

He walked with a limp after a motorcycle accident, and once said that before the Howl affair, he planned “a quiet life of reading, listening to music and playing chess.”

Instead, Murao’s act of ringing up a book purchase put him at the center of one of the nation’s landmark battles over literary censorship and freedom of expression.

Later in life, Murao suffered from diabetes, several strokes and a severe accident in his electric wheelchair. He died in a convalescent hospital in Cupertino, California, in 1999.

More sources on Shigeyoshi Murao:

Morgan, Bill & Nancy J. Peters. ''Howl on Trial''. San Francisco: City Lights Books, 2006

Ball, Gordon. “’Howl’ and other victories: A friend remembers City Lights’ Shig Murao.” ''San Francisco Chronicle'', November 28, 1999.

[http://www.citylightsbooks.com City Lights Booksellers & Publishers]

[[category:Beats]] [[category:1950s]] [[category:North Beach]] [[category:Japanese]] [[category:Dissent]]

Shigeyoshi Murao

2009-08-21T18:42:58Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society'' Summer 2009

Shigeyoshi Murao was arrested on June 3, 1957 for selling a copy of Allan Ginsberg’s ''Howl and Other Poems'' to two undercover San Francisco police officers for 75 cents at the famed City Lights bookstore. Some years later, his incredulous exclamation captured the disbelief at the heart of San Francisco’s famous obscenity trial: “Imagine being arrested for selling poetry!”

Much of the publicity surrounding the Howl trial focused on Lawrence Ferlinghetti, the bookstore’s owner and a close associate of many influential writers of the Beat movement. However Murao, who managed City Lights for more than two decades, committed the actual act of selling a book of poetry deemed obscene for its raw, explicit language and graphic sexual and homosexual imagery.

Ferlinghetti would later say that Murao sacrificed more than he did to stand up for First Amendment rights and freedom of speech and artistic expression. A Nisei whose family had been interned in a camp in Idaho during World War II, Murao’s arrest brought great shame to his family within the Japanese community. “To me, he was the real hero of this tale of sound and fury, signifying everything,” Ferlinghetti wrote in later years.

Murao’s name was cleared when the prosecution could not prove that the bookstore manager had knowledge of the book’s contents when he sold it. The American Civil Liberties Union defended both Murao and Ferlinghetti. In October 1957, Judge Clayton Horn, who happened to teach Bible classes on Sundays, ultimately found the poem “of redeeming social importance.” The Howl trial was a major victory for freedom of artistic expression.

Commonly known as Shig, Murao was a fixture in his North Beach neighborhood and behind the cash register at City Lights, where he could usually be spotted drinking a Coca-Cola. His personality set the tone for the famous bookstore and many patrons considered him the heart of the literary gathering spot. Shig managed the bookstore until 1976.

In his novel ''The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test'', Tom Wolfe described Murao as "the Nipponese panjandrum of the place, sat glowering with his beard hanging down like those strands of furze and fern in an architect's drawing, drooping over the volumes by the cash register."

A Seattle native, he served with the U.S. military intelligence service during the occupation of Japan after being released from internment camp.

He walked with a limp after a motorcycle accident, and once said that before the Howl affair, he planned “a quiet life of reading, listening to music and playing chess.”

Instead, Murao’s act of ringing up a book purchase put him at the center of one of the nation’s landmark battles over literary censorship and freedom of expression.

Later in life, Murao suffered from diabetes, several strokes and a severe accident in his electric wheelchair. He died in a convalescent hospital in Cupertino, California, in 1999.

More sources on Shigeyoshi Murao:

Morgan, Bill & Nancy J. Peters. ''Howl on Trial''. San Francisco: City Lights Books, 2006

Ball, Gordon. “’Howl’ and other victories: A friend remembers City Lights’ Shig Murao.” ''San Francisco Chronicle'', November 28, 1999.

[http://www.citylightsbooks.com City Lights Booksellers & Publishers]

[[category:Beats]] [[category:1950s]] [[category:North Beach]] [[category:Japanese]] [[category:Dissent]]

Shigeyoshi Murao

2009-08-21T18:37:08Z

KMorris: Created new page

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society'' Summer 2009

Shigeyoshi Murao was arrested on June 3, 1957 for selling a copy of Allan Ginsberg’s ''Howl and Other Poems'' to two undercover San Francisco police officers for 75 cents at the famed City Lights bookstore. Some years later, his incredulous exclamation captured the disbelief at the heart of San Francisco’s famous obscenity trial: “Imagine being arrested for selling poetry!”

Much of the publicity surrounding the Howl trial focused on Lawrence Ferlinghetti, the bookstore’s owner and a close associate of many influential writers of the Beat movement. However Murao, who managed City Lights for more than two decades, committed the actual act of selling a book of poetry deemed obscene for its raw, explicit language and graphic sexual and homosexual imagery.

Ferlinghetti would later say that Murao sacrificed more than he did to stand up for First Amendment rights and freedom of speech and artistic expression. A Nisei whose family had been interned in a camp in Idaho during World War II, Murao’s arrest brought great shame to his family within the Japanese community. “To me, he was the real hero of this tale of sound and fury, signifying everything,” Ferlinghetti wrote in later years.

Murao’s name was cleared when the prosecution could not prove that the bookstore manager had knowledge of the book’s contents when he sold it. The American Civil Liberties Union defended both Murao and Ferlinghetti. In October 1957, Judge Clayton Horn, who happened to teach Bible classes on Sundays, ultimately found the poem “of redeeming social importance.” The Howl trial was a major victory for freedom of artistic expression.

Commonly known as Shig, Murao was a fixture in his North Beach neighborhood and behind the cash register at City Lights, where he could usually be spotted drinking a Coca-Cola. His personality set the tone for the famous bookstore and many patrons considered him the heart of the literary gathering spot. Shig managed the bookstore until 1976.

In his novel ''The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test'', Tom Wolfe described Murao as "the Nipponese panjandrum of the place, sat glowering with his beard hanging down like those strands of furze and fern in an architect's drawing, drooping over the volumes by the cash register."

A Seattle native, he served with the U.S. military intelligence service during the occupation of Japan after being released from internment camp.

He walked with a limp after a motorcycle accident, and once said that before the Howl affair, he planned “a quiet life of reading, listening to music and playing chess.”

Instead, Murao’s act of ringing up a book purchase put him at the center of one of the nation’s landmark battles over literary censorship and freedom of expression.

Later in life, Murao suffered from diabetes, several strokes and a severe accident in his electric wheelchair. He died in a convalescent hospital in Cupertino, California, in 1999.

More sources on Shigeyoshi Murao:

Morgan, Bill & Nancy J. Peters. ''Howl on Trial''. San Francisco: City Lights Books, 2006

Ball, Gordon. “’Howl’ and other victories: A friend remembers City Lights’ Shig Murao.” ''San Francisco Chronicle'', November 28, 1999.

[http://www.citylightsbooks.com City Lights Booksellers & Publishers]

Jon Sims

2009-08-21T18:05:46Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society'' Summer 2009

Jon Reed Sims was born in 1947 in Smith Center, Kansas—the geographic center of the nation’s 48 contiguous states. However from an early age, relatives said Sims showed more sophistication and musical ability than most residents of the small wheat farming town.

After studying music composition at Wichita State University and earning a masters degree in music at Indiana University, Sims moved to San Francisco to be a music teacher. He taught high school band in Daly City, but ultimately devoted himself full-time to developing gay and lesbian musical groups throughout the Bay Area.

Sims is best known for founding the San Francisco Gay Freedom Day Marching Band and the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus. In 1978, he decided the local Gay Freedom Day parade could use more music. He posted fliers around town, ultimately gathering together a few wind and percussion instrumentalists to form a marching band.

What was supposed to be a summertime-only effort morphed into a permanent fixture. Today, the marching band claims to be the world’s first openly, publicly identified gay cultural art group.

Band members would joke about Sims’ Kansas heritage, calling him Dorothy and likening their marching to following him down the yellow brick road.

Sims’ lesbian and gay chorus group ultimately spawned a variety of musical offshoots, including a concert band, jazz band, swing choir, string orchestra, ragtime ensemble, even a trombone ensemble. Every group shared Sims’ founding commitment to promote gay and lesbian culture.

Thanks to Sims, hundreds of gay men and women across the Bay Area found mainstream acceptance through the universality of music.

The groups he founded earned a variety of accolades and spawned similar organizations across the country. In 1981, the Gay Men’s Chorus embarked on a nationally acclaimed tour of the country. The former band teacher from America’s heartland had become the patriarch of a large-scale movement that helped dispel prejudice and bring gays and lesbians into the mainstream through their musical talents.

However Sims’ musicians contributed more than music to the city. He formed the gay marching band in 1978, at the height of Anita Bryant and Jerry Falwell’s anti-gay movement. California was hotly debating Proposition 6, which would have banned gays and lesbians from working in public schools. That same year, the Gay Men’s Chorus made its debut performance at a candlelight vigil at City Hall after the assassinations of [[HARVEY_MILK_A_Reflection_by_Harry_Britt|Harvey Milk]] and [[Mayor_George_Moscone|Mayor George Moscone]].

In a 1982 newspaper interview, Sims said he was burned out, suffering exhaustion-related symptoms he compared with hepatitis. Two years later, in January 1984 he was diagnosed with a little-known disease called AIDS. He died six months later, on July 16.

One week after Sims’ death, more than 1,500 people attended a service at [[Grace_Cathedral|Grace Cathedral]] to remember the gifted musician. Attendees wore rainbow-colored armbands and entered under a rainbow archway of balloons. The service made the front page of the Examiner the next day.

When Sims died, so little was known about AIDS that his obituary in the San Francisco Examiner included a definition of the disease. At that time, AIDS had claimed the lives of 200 men in San Francisco, and 2000 nationwide. Sims’ death expanded awareness of an often-misunderstood disease that would go on to ravage San Francisco’s Francisco’s [[The_1980s|gay community]].

As one friend said in Sims’ newspaper obituary, he gave gays “an alternative to the baths and the bars.” Sims’ cultural impact is still evident at the Jon Sims Center for the Arts. The center in the South of Market neighborhood is named in his honor and dedicated to education and cultural arts among the city’s gay, lesbian and transgender community.

''More resources on Jon Sims:''

John Sims obituary, San Francisco Examiner July 17, 1984

San Francisco Examiner August 4, 1984

San Francisco Exmainer January 27, 1982

[http://www.jonsimsctr.org/History.html Jon Sims Center for the Arts]

[http://www.sfgmc.org San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus]

[[category:Gay and Lesbian]] [[category:1970s]] [[category:1980s]] [[category:Performing Arts]]

Jon Sims

2009-08-21T17:43:06Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society'' Summer 2009

Jon Reed Sims was born in 1947 in Smith Center, Kansas—the geographic center of the nation’s 48 contiguous states. However from an early age, relatives said Sims showed more sophistication and musical ability than most residents of the small wheat farming town.

After studying music composition at Wichita State University and earning a masters degree in music at Indiana University, Sims moved to San Francisco to be a music teacher. He taught high school band in Daly City, but ultimately devoted himself full-time to developing gay and lesbian musical groups throughout the Bay Area.

Sims is best known for founding the San Francisco Gay Freedom Day Marching Band and the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus. In 1978, he decided the local Gay Freedom Day parade could use more music. He posted fliers around town, ultimately gathering together a few wind and percussion instrumentalists to form a marching band.

What was supposed to be a summertime-only effort morphed into a permanent fixture. Today, the marching band claims to be the world’s first openly, publicly identified gay cultural art group.

Band members would joke about Sims’ Kansas heritage, calling him Dorothy and likening their marching to following him down the yellow brick road.

Sims’ lesbian and gay chorus group ultimately spawned a variety of musical offshoots, including a concert band, jazz band, swing choir, string orchestra, ragtime ensemble, even a trombone ensemble. Every group shared Sims’ founding commitment to promote gay and lesbian culture.

Thanks to Sims, hundreds of gay men and women across the Bay Area found mainstream acceptance through the universality of music.

The groups he founded earned a variety of accolades and spawned similar organizations across the country. In 1981, the Gay Men’s Chorus embarked on a nationally acclaimed tour of the country. The former band teacher from America’s heartland had become the patriarch of a large-scale movement that helped dispel prejudice and bring gays and lesbians into the mainstream through their musical talents.

However Sims’ musicians contributed more than music to the city. He formed the gay marching band in 1978, at the height of Anita Bryant and Jerry Falwell’s anti-gay movement. California was hotly debating Proposition 6, which would have banned gays and lesbians from working in public schools. That same year, the Gay Men’s Chorus made its debut performance at a candlelight vigil at City Hall after the assassinations of [[HARVEY_MILK_A_Reflection_by_Harry_Britt|Harvey Milk]] and [[Mayor_George_Moscone|Mayor George Moscone]].

In a 1982 newspaper interview, Sims said he was burned out, suffering exhaustion-related symptoms he compared with hepatitis. Two years later, in January 1984 he was diagnosed with a little-known disease called AIDS. He died six months later, on July 16.

One week after Sims’ death, more than 1,500 people attended a service at [[Grace_Cathedral|Grace Cathedral]] to remember the gifted musician. Attendees wore rainbow-colored armbands and entered under a rainbow archway of balloons. The service made the front page of the Examiner the next day.

When Sims died, so little was known about AIDS that his obituary in the San Francisco Examiner included a definition of the disease. At that time, AIDS had claimed the lives of 200 men in San Francisco, and 2000 nationwide. Sims’ death expanded awareness of an often-misunderstood disease that would go on to ravage San Francisco’s Francisco’s [[The_1980s|gay community]].

As one friend said in Sims’ newspaper obituary, he gave gays “an alternative to the baths and the bars.” Sims’ cultural impact is still evident at the Jon Sims Center for the Arts. The center in the South of Market neighborhood is named in his honor and dedicated to education and cultural arts among the city’s gay, lesbian and transgender community.

''More resources on Jon Sims:''

John Sims obituary, San Francisco Examiner July 17, 1984

San Francisco Examiner August 4, 1984

San Francisco Exmainer January 27, 1982

[http://www.jonsimsctr.org/History.html Jon Sims Center for the Arts]

[http://www.sfgmc.org San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus]

Jon Sims

2009-08-21T17:41:50Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society'' Summer 2009

Jon Reed Sims was born in 1947 in Smith Center, Kansas—the geographic center of the nation’s 48 contiguous states. However from an early age, relatives said Sims showed more sophistication and musical ability than most residents of the small wheat farming town.

After studying music composition at Wichita State University and earning a masters degree in music at Indiana University, Sims moved to San Francisco to be a music teacher. He taught high school band in Daly City, but ultimately devoted himself full-time to developing gay and lesbian musical groups throughout the Bay Area.

Sims is best known for founding the San Francisco Gay Freedom Day Marching Band and the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus. In 1978, he decided the local Gay Freedom Day parade could use more music. He posted fliers around town, ultimately gathering together a few wind and percussion instrumentalists to form a marching band.

What was supposed to be a summertime-only effort morphed into a permanent fixture. Today, the marching band claims to be the world’s first openly, publicly identified gay cultural art group.

Band members would joke about Sims’ Kansas heritage, calling him Dorothy and likening their marching to following him down the yellow brick road.

Sims’ lesbian and gay chorus group ultimately spawned a variety of musical offshoots, including a concert band, jazz band, swing choir, string orchestra, ragtime ensemble, even a trombone ensemble. Every group shared Sims’ founding commitment to promote gay and lesbian culture.

Thanks to Sims, hundreds of gay men and women across the Bay Area found mainstream acceptance through the universality of music.

The groups he founded earned a variety of accolades and spawned similar organizations across the country. In 1981, the Gay Men’s Chorus embarked on a nationally acclaimed tour of the country. The former band teacher from America’s heartland had become the patriarch of a large-scale movement that helped dispel prejudice and bring gays and lesbians into the mainstream through their musical talents.

However Sims’ musicians contributed more than music to the city. He formed the gay marching band in 1978, at the height of Anita Bryant and Jerry Falwell’s anti-gay movement. California was hotly debating Proposition 6, which would have banned gays and lesbians from working in public schools. That same year, the Gay Men’s Chorus made its debut performance at a candlelight vigil at City Hall after the assassinations of [[HARVEY_MILK_A_Reflection_by_Harry_Britt|Harvey Milk]] and [[Mayor_George_Moscone|Mayor George Moscone]].

In a 1982 newspaper interview, Sims said he was burned out, suffering exhaustion-related symptoms he compared with hepatitis. Two years later, in January 1984 he was diagnosed with a little-known disease called AIDS. He died six months later, on July 16.

One week after Sims’ death, more than 1,500 people attended a service at Grace Cathedral to remember the gifted musician. Attendees wore rainbow-colored armbands and entered under a rainbow archway of balloons. The service made the front page of the Examiner the next day.

When Sims died, so little was known about AIDS that his obituary in the San Francisco Examiner included a definition of the disease. At that time, AIDS had claimed the lives of 200 men in San Francisco, and 2000 nationwide. Sims’ death expanded awareness of an often-misunderstood disease that would go on to ravage San Francisco’s Francisco’s [[The_1980s|gay community]].

As one friend said in Sims’ newspaper obituary, he gave gays “an alternative to the baths and the bars.” Sims’ cultural impact is still evident at the Jon Sims Center for the Arts. The center in the South of Market neighborhood is named in his honor and dedicated to education and cultural arts among the city’s gay, lesbian and transgender community.

''More resources on Jon Sims:''

John Sims obituary, San Francisco Examiner July 17, 1984

San Francisco Examiner August 4, 1984

San Francisco Exmainer January 27, 1982

[http://www.jonsimsctr.org/History.html Jon Sims Center for the Arts]

[http://www.sfgmc.org San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus]

Jon Sims

2009-08-21T17:16:33Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society'' Summer 2009

Jon Reed Sims was born in 1947 in Smith Center, Kansas—the geographic center of the nation’s 48 contiguous states. However from an early age, relatives said Sims showed more sophistication and musical ability than most residents of the small wheat farming town.

After studying music composition at Wichita State University and earning a masters degree in music at Indiana University, Sims moved to San Francisco to be a music teacher. He taught high school band in Daly City, but ultimately devoted himself full-time to developing gay and lesbian musical groups throughout the Bay Area.

Sims is best known for founding the San Francisco Gay Freedom Day Marching Band and the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus. In 1978, he decided the local Gay Freedom Day parade could use more music. He posted fliers around town, ultimately gathering together a few wind and percussion instrumentalists to form a marching band.

What was supposed to be a summertime-only effort morphed into a permanent fixture. Today, the marching band claims to be the world’s first openly, publicly identified gay cultural art group.

Band members would joke about Sims’ Kansas heritage, calling him Dorothy and likening their marching to following him down the yellow brick road.

Sims’ lesbian and gay chorus group ultimately spawned a variety of musical offshoots, including a concert band, jazz band, swing choir, string orchestra, ragtime ensemble, even a trombone ensemble. Every group shared Sims’ founding commitment to promote gay and lesbian culture.

Thanks to Sims, hundreds of gay men and women across the Bay Area found mainstream acceptance through the universality of music.

The groups he founded earned a variety of accolades and spawned similar organizations across the country. In 1981, the gay men’s chorus embarked on a nationally acclaimed tour of the country. The former band teacher from America’s heartland had become the patriarch of a large-scale movement that helped dispel prejudice and bring gays and lesbians into the mainstream through their musical talents.

However Sims’ musicians contributed more than music to the city. He formed the gay marching band in 1978, at the height of Anita Bryant and Jerry Falwell’s anti-gay movement. California was hotly debating Proposition 6, which would have banned gays and lesbians from working in public schools. That same year, the gay men’s chorus made its debut performance at a candlelight vigil at City Hall after the assassinations of Harvey Milk and Mayor George Moscone.

In a 1982 newspaper interview, Sims said he was burned out, suffering exhaustion-related symptoms he compared with hepatitis. Two years later, in January 1984 he was diagnosed with a little-known disease called AIDS. He died six months later, on July 16.

One week after Sims’ death, more than 1,500 people attended a service at Grace Cathedral to remember the gifted musician. Attendees wore rainbow-colored armbands and entered under a rainbow archway of balloons. The service made the front page of the Examiner the next day.

When Sims died, so little was known about AIDS that his obituary in the San Francisco Examiner included a definition of the disease. At that time, AIDS had claimed the lives of 200 men in San Francisco, and 2000 nationwide. Sims’ death expanded awareness of an often-misunderstood disease that would go on to ravage San Francisco’s gay community.

As one friend said in Sims’ newspaper obituary, he gave gays “an alternative to the baths and the bars.” Sims’ cultural impact is still evident at the Jon Sims Center for the Arts. The center in the South of Market neighborhood is named in his honor and dedicated to education and cultural arts among the city’s gay, lesbian and transgender community.

''More resources on Jon Sims:''

John Sims obituary, San Francisco Examiner July 17, 1984

San Francisco Examiner August 4, 1984

San Francisco Exmainer January 27, 1982

[http://www.jonsimsctr.org/History.html Jon Sims Center for the Arts]

Jon Sims

2009-08-21T17:14:48Z

KMorris: New page on Jon Sims

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society'' Summer 2009

Jon Reed Sims was born in 1947 in Smith Center, Kansas—the geographic center of the nation’s 48 contiguous states. However from an early age, relatives said Sims showed more sophistication and musical ability than most residents of the small wheat farming town.

After studying music composition at Wichita State University and earning a masters degree in music at Indiana University, Sims moved to San Francisco to be a music teacher. He taught high school band in Daly City, but ultimately devoted himself full-time to developing gay and lesbian musical groups throughout the Bay Area.

Sims is best known for founding the San Francisco Gay Freedom Day Marching Band and the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus. In 1978, he decided the local Gay Freedom Day parade could use more music. He posted fliers around town, ultimately gathering together a few wind and percussion instrumentalists to form a marching band.

What was supposed to be a summertime-only effort morphed into a permanent fixture. Today, the marching band claims to be the world’s first openly, publicly identified gay cultural art group.

Band members would joke about Sims’ Kansas heritage, calling him Dorothy and likening their marching to following him down the yellow brick road.

Sims’ lesbian and gay chorus group ultimately spawned a variety of musical offshoots, including a concert band, jazz band, swing choir, string orchestra, ragtime ensemble, even a trombone ensemble. Every group shared Sims’ founding commitment to promote gay and lesbian culture.

Thanks to Sims, hundreds of gay men and women across the Bay Area found mainstream acceptance through the universality of music.

The groups he founded earned a variety of accolades and spawned similar organizations across the country. In 1981, the gay men’s chorus embarked on a nationally acclaimed tour of the country. The former band teacher from America’s heartland had become the patriarch of a large-scale movement that helped dispel prejudice and bring gays and lesbians into the mainstream through their musical talents.

However Sims’ musicians contributed more than music to the city. He formed the gay marching band in 1978, at the height of Anita Bryant and Jerry Falwell’s anti-gay movement. California was hotly debating Proposition 6, which would have banned gays and lesbians from working in public schools. That same year, the gay men’s chorus made its debut performance at a candlelight vigil at City Hall after the assassinations of Harvey Milk and Mayor George Moscone.

In a 1982 newspaper interview, Sims said he was burned out, suffering exhaustion-related symptoms he compared with hepatitis. Two years later, in January 1984 he was diagnosed with a little-known disease called AIDS. He died six months later, on July 16.

One week after Sims’ death, more than 1,500 people attended a service at Grace Cathedral to remember the gifted musician. Attendees wore rainbow-colored armbands and entered under a rainbow archway of balloons. The service made the front page of the Examiner the next day.

When Sims died, so little was known about AIDS that his obituary in the San Francisco Examiner included a definition of the disease. At that time, AIDS had claimed the lives of 200 men in San Francisco, and 2000 nationwide. Sims’ death expanded awareness of an often-misunderstood disease that would go on to ravage San Francisco’s gay community.

As one friend said in Sims’ newspaper obituary, he gave gays “an alternative to the baths and the bars.” Sims’ cultural impact is still evident at the Jon Sims Center for the Arts. The center in the South of Market neighborhood is named in his honor and dedicated to education and cultural arts among the city’s gay, lesbian and transgender community.

''More resources on Jon Sims:''

John Sims obituary, San Francisco Examiner July 17, 1984

San Francisco Examiner August 4, 1984

San Francisco Exmainer January 27, 1982

Jon Sims Center for the Arts - http://www.jonsimsctr.org/History.html

Jade Snow Wong

2009-08-21T17:08:31Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society'' Summer 2009

Jade Snow Wong was born on a rare snowy January day in San Francisco in 1922, and given the English name of Constance. A lifelong San Franciscan, she was the fifth of nine immigrant children. Growing up she was taught to expect a particular type of life, laid out for her by tradition and her elders. Through education, determination and hard work, Wong went beyond these traditions to pursue her passion and talent for the arts.

Wong attended San Francisco City College and later Mills College, where she majored in economics and sociology. She worked as a secretary in a shipyard office during World War II, but was introduced to pottery through an art class during her last semester of college. Ceramics would become a lifelong passion. Wong worked at studios in Chinatown, Jackson Square and, most prominently, on Russian Hill. When she first began pursuing ceramics, she persuaded a Grant Avenue merchant to let her throw pots on her wheel in the shop’s front window.

Her 1950 autobiography, ''Fifth Chinese Daughter'', tells of Wong’s childhood as one of nine children growing up in Chinatown. Wong worked in her parents’ small clothing factory and spoke only Chinese until she was five years old. As a female in a male-prizing society, and one of a large number of children, Wong was raised to behave properly and define herself by the traditional female roles of daughter, then wife and mother. Her father forbade her to date and refused to pay for a college education, believing it wasted on a daughter. Jade chafed against these prohibitions, writing “I can’t help being born a girl... I am a person besides being a female! Don’t the Chinese admit that women also have feelings and minds?”

''Fifth Chinese Daughter'' describes Wong’s efforts to balance her identity as an American woman with her more traditional role as a Chinese daughter in a close-knit immigrant family. The book is written in the third person, allowing Wong the opportunity to look at issues of identity from a slight distance. She wrote, “There were alas no books or advisers to guide Jade Snow in her search for balance between the pull from two cultures. If she chose neither to reject nor accept ''in toto'', she must sift both and make her decisions alone.”

Critics still hail it as a pioneering work of Asian-American literature, one of the first to express the issue of multiple identities for daughters of immigrants and minority cultures. Her book was so popular that the U.S. State Department asked Wong to tour Asia in 1953. She spoke to more than 200 groups across the continent about the life of a first-generation Chinese American. She describes this trip, along with a 1972 visit to the People’s Republic of China, in her second autobiography ''No Chinese Stranger''.

While Wong is more widely known as a writer, she also won tremendous acclaim as a ceramics artist, displaying her works at the M.H. de Young Memorial Museum, the Museum of Modern Art, the Art Institute of Chicago and New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art, among other locations.

She married fellow artist Woodrow Ong in 1950, and the pair worked together for many years, both in the arts and later managing a travel agency.

Wong was an especially devoted alumna of Mills College, leading the drive to build a new alumnae center in 1945. She secured donations, hired an architect, and purchased furniture for the completed Reinhardt Alumnae House. She was awarded an honorary doctorate by Mills College in 1976. That same year, ''Fifth Chinese Daughter'' was made into a half-hour special for public television.

When Wong died in 2006, she was still receiving visits and letters from fans both local and across the world, telling her how much her story of Chinese-American girlhood resonated with them.

[[category:Women]] [[category:1950s]] [[category:Chinese]]

Juana Briones

2009-08-21T17:06:35Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society'' Spring 2009

[[Image:JuanaBriones_cropped.jpg]]

''This is believed to be a photograph of Juana Briones taken in the 1860s, but it has not been definitively identified. Image Courtesy of'' Point Reyes National Seashore Museum.

Juana Briones was born in March 1802 in Villa de Branciforte, a secular village established by the Spanish at the site of present-day Santa Cruz. Like many of her contemporaries, Juana was a mestiza of mixed Spanish and Native American heritage. Her father and grandfather arrived as part of Spain’s very first push into Alta California, with the expeditions of Gaspar de Portolá and Juan Bautista de Anza.

Young Juana spent the first 10 years of her life in a wattle-and-daub house, before her father moved the entire family to the San Francisco Presidio. There she married Apolinario Miranda, a soldier, when she was 18 (a somewhat late age for women of her generation). Briones gave birth to 11 children, but four did not survive past childhood in the rugged frontier environment. Three of their children died within one month in 1828, and a fourth only one year later.

As a girl, Briones was under her father’s total authority until she married and that responsibility transferred to her husband. While Juana’s full married name was Juana de la Trinidad Briones y Tapia de Miranda, she used the name Juana Briones in all her business dealings. Her children used the surname Miranda.

In 1840, Briones brought a suit against her husband for physical abuse after repeated episodes of violence. Her husband was literate, while Juana could neither read nor write, but she navigated the male-leaning legal system, hiring people to write on her behalf. Society considered marriage indissoluble at the time, but Briones appealed to courts repeatedly and was ultimately granted a separation. Apolinario Miranda died in 1847 at age 54.

In the 1830s, Briones established her own homestead down the road from the land she previously occupied with her husband at the Presidio. Her claim in the town of Yerba Buena was in the area of the current North Beach neighborhood. Today [[Juana Briones at Washington Square|Washington Square occupies the land that once served as her corral and dairy farm]].

Here Briones set up her own farm with her children. In Yerba Buena she sold milk, took in sewing and offered nursing and healing services. She most likely also sold produce, beef, chicken and eggs to keep the household profitable. Throughout her life Briones was also known in the area for her abilities as a curandera, with native and herbal medicine and healing.

Briones briefly established another home at [[Mission Dolores | Mission Dolores]] but in 1844 she purchased the 4,400-acre Rancho La Purísima Concepción in the foothills near present-day Palo Alto. She bought the land from its Native American owners to expand her cattle ranching business. Briones’ status as a female landowner was unusual in an era where women generally could only possess land they inherited from a deceased husband. Despite her lack of formal education, Briones was a keen businesswoman with a seemingly intuitive understanding of how to make her case with the Mexican governmental system.

However when California became part of the United States and gained its statehood in 1850, Briones and her Hispanic contemporaries were required to certify their land ownership before the U.S. Land Commission. This legal process included a number of hurdles for all Mexican landholders, but especially for women and racial minorities.
The legal process was too difficult or expensive for many people who had owned land under Mexican law. Briones could neither read nor write, but she hired an astute lawyer and navigated the court system carefully and precisely. Her legal battle for property ownership ultimately made its way to the U.S. Supreme Court.

Through persistence, her business abilities and several legal battles aided by an effective lawyer, she ultimately emerged with documented ownership of her ranch and the property in Yerba Buena. Briones later purchased other tracts of land—five total in her lifetime—and eventually moved to the town of Mayfield, now part of Palo Alto. She built a home there in 1884 and remained in Mayfield until her death in 1889.

Briones’ life reflects California’s transition from the rugged Spanish and Mexican frontier to a more formalized society as part of the United States. The adobe home Briones built on her original rancho around 1845 still stands today in Palo Alto. Historians are working to convert the home into a hands-on history center.

More Resources on Juana Briones -

''Juana Briones of 19th Century California'', by Jeanne Farr McDonnell (The University of Arizona Press, 2008)

[http://www.brioneshouse.org Juana Briones Heritage site]

[[category:Women]] [[category:1823-1846]] [[category:Mexican]]

Jade Snow Wong

2009-07-31T21:54:06Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society''

Jade Snow Wong was born on a rare snowy January day in San Francisco in 1922, and given the English name of Constance. A lifelong San Franciscan, she was the fifth of nine immigrant children. Growing up she was taught to expect a particular type of life, laid out for her by tradition and her elders. Through education, determination and hard work, Wong went beyond these traditions to pursue her passion and talent for the arts.

Wong attended San Francisco City College and later Mills College, where she majored in economics and sociology. She worked as a secretary in a shipyard office during World War II, but was introduced to pottery through an art class during her last semester of college. Ceramics would become a lifelong passion. Wong worked at studios in Chinatown, Jackson Square and, most prominently, on Russian Hill. When she first began pursuing ceramics, she persuaded a Grant Avenue merchant to let her throw pots on her wheel in the shop’s front window.

Her 1950 autobiography, ''Fifth Chinese Daughter'', tells of Wong’s childhood as one of nine children growing up in Chinatown. Wong worked in her parents’ small clothing factory and spoke only Chinese until she was five years old. As a female in a male-prizing society, and one of a large number of children, Wong was raised to behave properly and define herself by the traditional female roles of daughter, then wife and mother. Her father forbade her to date and refused to pay for a college education, believing it wasted on a daughter. Jade chafed against these prohibitions, writing “I can’t help being born a girl... I am a person besides being a female! Don’t the Chinese admit that women also have feelings and minds?”

''Fifth Chinese Daughter'' describes Wong’s efforts to balance her identity as an American woman with her more traditional role as a Chinese daughter in a close-knit immigrant family. The book is written in the third person, allowing Wong the opportunity to look at issues of identity from a slight distance. She wrote, “There were alas no books or advisers to guide Jade Snow in her search for balance between the pull from two cultures. If she chose neither to reject nor accept ''in toto'', she must sift both and make her decisions alone.”

Critics still hail it as a pioneering work of Asian-American literature, one of the first to express the issue of multiple identities for daughters of immigrants and minority cultures. Her book was so popular that the U.S. State Department asked Wong to tour Asia in 1953. She spoke to more than 200 groups across the continent about the life of a first-generation Chinese American. She describes this trip, along with a 1972 visit to the People’s Republic of China, in her second autobiography ''No Chinese Stranger''.

While Wong is more widely known as a writer, she also won tremendous acclaim as a ceramics artist, displaying her works at the M.H. de Young Memorial Museum, the Museum of Modern Art, the Art Institute of Chicago and New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art, among other locations.

She married fellow artist Woodrow Ong in 1950, and the pair worked together for many years, both in the arts and later managing a travel agency.

Wong was an especially devoted alumna of Mills College, leading the drive to build a new alumnae center in 1945. She secured donations, hired an architect, and purchased furniture for the completed Reinhardt Alumnae House. She was awarded an honorary doctorate by Mills College in 1976. That same year, ''Fifth Chinese Daughter'' was made into a half-hour special for public television.

When Wong died in 2006, she was still receiving visits and letters from fans both local and across the world, telling her how much her story of Chinese-American girlhood resonated with them.

[[category:Women]] [[category:1950s]] [[category:Chinese]]

Juana Briones

2009-07-31T21:47:58Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society''

[[Image:JuanaBriones_cropped.jpg]]

''This is believed to be a photograph of Juana Briones taken in the 1860s, but it has not been definitively identified. Image Courtesy of'' Point Reyes National Seashore Museum.

Juana Briones was born in March 1802 in Villa de Branciforte, a secular village established by the Spanish at the site of present-day Santa Cruz. Like many of her contemporaries, Juana was a mestiza of mixed Spanish and Native American heritage. Her father and grandfather arrived as part of Spain’s very first push into Alta California, with the expeditions of Gaspar de Portolá and Juan Bautista de Anza.

Young Juana spent the first 10 years of her life in a wattle-and-daub house, before her father moved the entire family to the San Francisco Presidio. There she married Apolinario Miranda, a soldier, when she was 18 (a somewhat late age for women of her generation). Briones gave birth to 11 children, but four did not survive past childhood in the rugged frontier environment. Three of their children died within one month in 1828, and a fourth only one year later.

As a girl, Briones was under her father’s total authority until she married and that responsibility transferred to her husband. While Juana’s full married name was Juana de la Trinidad Briones y Tapia de Miranda, she used the name Juana Briones in all her business dealings. Her children used the surname Miranda.

In 1840, Briones brought a suit against her husband for physical abuse after repeated episodes of violence. Her husband was literate, while Juana could neither read nor write, but she navigated the male-leaning legal system, hiring people to write on her behalf. Society considered marriage indissoluble at the time, but Briones appealed to courts repeatedly and was ultimately granted a separation. Apolinario Miranda died in 1847 at age 54.

In the 1830s, Briones established her own homestead down the road from the land she previously occupied with her husband at the Presidio. Her claim in the town of Yerba Buena was in the area of the current North Beach neighborhood. Today [[Juana Briones at Washington Square|Washington Square occupies the land that once served as her corral and dairy farm]].

Here Briones set up her own farm with her children. In Yerba Buena she sold milk, took in sewing and offered nursing and healing services. She most likely also sold produce, beef, chicken and eggs to keep the household profitable. Throughout her life Briones was also known in the area for her abilities as a curandera, with native and herbal medicine and healing.

Briones briefly established another home at [[Mission Dolores | Mission Dolores]] but in 1844 she purchased the 4,400-acre Rancho La Purísima Concepción in the foothills near present-day Palo Alto. She bought the land from its Native American owners to expand her cattle ranching business. Briones’ status as a female landowner was unusual in an era where women generally could only possess land they inherited from a deceased husband. Despite her lack of formal education, Briones was a keen businesswoman with a seemingly intuitive understanding of how to make her case with the Mexican governmental system.

However when California became part of the United States and gained its statehood in 1850, Briones and her Hispanic contemporaries were required to certify their land ownership before the U.S. Land Commission. This legal process included a number of hurdles for all Mexican landholders, but especially for women and racial minorities.
The legal process was too difficult or expensive for many people who had owned land under Mexican law. Briones could neither read nor write, but she hired an astute lawyer and navigated the court system carefully and precisely. Her legal battle for property ownership ultimately made its way to the U.S. Supreme Court.

Through persistence, her business abilities and several legal battles aided by an effective lawyer, she ultimately emerged with documented ownership of her ranch and the property in Yerba Buena. Briones later purchased other tracts of land—five total in her lifetime—and eventually moved to the town of Mayfield, now part of Palo Alto. She built a home there in 1884 and remained in Mayfield until her death in 1889.

Briones’ life reflects California’s transition from the rugged Spanish and Mexican frontier to a more formalized society as part of the United States. The adobe home Briones built on her original rancho around 1845 still stands today in Palo Alto. Historians are working to convert the home into a hands-on history center.

More Resources on Juana Briones -

''Juana Briones of 19th Century California'', by Jeanne Farr McDonnell (The University of Arizona Press, 2008)

[http://www.brioneshouse.org Juana Briones Heritage site]

[[category:Women]] [[category:1823-1846]] [[category:Mexican]]

Juana Briones

2009-07-31T21:36:47Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society''

Juana Briones was born in March 1802 in Villa de Branciforte, a secular village established by the Spanish at the site of present-day Santa Cruz. Like many of her contemporaries, Juana was a mestiza of mixed Spanish and Native American heritage. Her father and grandfather arrived as part of Spain’s very first push into Alta California, with the expeditions of Gaspar de Portolá and Juan Bautista de Anza.

Young Juana spent the first 10 years of her life in a wattle-and-daub house, before her father moved the entire family to the San Francisco Presidio. There she married Apolinario Miranda, a soldier, when she was 18 (a somewhat late age for women of her generation). Briones gave birth to 11 children, but four did not survive past childhood in the rugged frontier environment. Three of their children died within one month in 1828, and a fourth only one year later.

As a girl, Briones was under her father’s total authority until she married and that responsibility transferred to her husband. While Juana’s full married name was Juana de la Trinidad Briones y Tapia de Miranda, she used the name Juana Briones in all her business dealings. Her children used the surname Miranda.

In 1840, Briones brought a suit against her husband for physical abuse after repeated episodes of violence. Her husband was literate, while Juana could neither read nor write, but she navigated the male-leaning legal system, hiring people to write on her behalf. Society considered marriage indissoluble at the time, but Briones appealed to courts repeatedly and was ultimately granted a separation. Apolinario Miranda died in 1847 at age 54.

In the 1830s, Briones established her own homestead down the road from the land she previously occupied with her husband at the Presidio. Her claim in the town of Yerba Buena was in the area of the current North Beach neighborhood. Today [[Juana Briones at Washington Square|Washington Square occupies the land that once served as her corral and dairy farm]].

Here Briones set up her own farm with her children. In Yerba Buena she sold milk, took in sewing and offered nursing and healing services. She most likely also sold produce, beef, chicken and eggs to keep the household profitable. Throughout her life Briones was also known in the area for her abilities as a curandera, with native and herbal medicine and healing.

Briones briefly established another home at Mission Dolores but in 1844 she purchased the 4,400-acre Rancho La Purísima Concepción in the foothills near present-day Palo Alto. She bought the land from its Native American owners to expand her cattle ranching business. Briones’ status as a female landowner was unusual in an era where women generally could only possess land they inherited from a deceased husband. Despite her lack of formal education, Briones was a keen businesswoman with a seemingly intuitive understanding of how to make her case with the Mexican governmental system.

However when California became part of the United States and gained its statehood in 1850, Briones and her Hispanic contemporaries were required to certify their land ownership before the U.S. Land Commission. This legal process included a number of hurdles for all Mexican landholders, but especially for women and racial minorities.
The legal process was too difficult or expensive for many people who had owned land under Mexican law. Briones could neither read nor write, but she hired an astute lawyer and navigated the court system carefully and precisely. Her legal battle for property ownership ultimately made its way to the U.S. Supreme Court.

Through persistence, her business abilities and several legal battles aided by an effective lawyer, she ultimately emerged with documented ownership of her ranch and the property in Yerba Buena. Briones later purchased other tracts of land—five total in her lifetime—and eventually moved to the town of Mayfield, now part of Palo Alto. She built a home there in 1884 and remained in Mayfield until her death in 1889.

Briones’ life reflects California’s transition from the rugged Spanish and Mexican frontier to a more formalized society as part of the United States. The adobe home Briones built on her original rancho around 1845 still stands today in Palo Alto. Historians are working to convert the home into a hands-on history center.

More Resources on Juana Briones -

''Juana Briones of 19th Century California'', by Jeanne Farr McDonnell (The University of Arizona Press, 2008)

[http://www.brioneshouse.org Juana Briones Heritage site]

[[category:Women]] [[category:1823-1846]] [[category:Mexican]]

File:JuanaBriones cropped.jpg

2009-07-31T21:35:09Z

KMorris: uploaded a new version of "File:JuanaBriones cropped.jpg"

Likely portrait of Juana Briones

Juana Briones

2009-07-31T21:31:47Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society''

Juana Briones was born in March 1802 in Villa de Branciforte, a secular village established by the Spanish at the site of present-day Santa Cruz. Like many of her contemporaries, Juana was a mestiza of mixed Spanish and Native American heritage. Her father and grandfather arrived as part of Spain’s very first push into Alta California, with the expeditions of Gaspar de Portolá and Juan Bautista de Anza.

Young Juana spent the first 10 years of her life in a wattle-and-daub house, before her father moved the entire family to the San Francisco Presidio. There she married Apolinario Miranda, a soldier, when she was 18 (a somewhat late age for women of her generation). Briones gave birth to 11 children, but four did not survive past childhood in the rugged frontier environment. Three of their children died within one month in 1828, and a fourth only one year later.

As a girl, Briones was under her father’s total authority until she married and that responsibility transferred to her husband. While Juana’s full married name was Juana de la Trinidad Briones y Tapia de Miranda, she used the name Juana Briones in all her business dealings. Her children used the surname Miranda.

In 1840, Briones brought a suit against her husband for physical abuse after repeated episodes of violence. Her husband was literate, while Juana could neither read nor write, but she navigated the male-leaning legal system, hiring people to write on her behalf. Society considered marriage indissoluble at the time, but Briones appealed to courts repeatedly and was ultimately granted a separation. Apolinario Miranda died in 1847 at age 54.

In the 1830s, Briones established her own homestead down the road from the land she previously occupied with her husband at the Presidio. Her claim in the town of Yerba Buena was in the area of the current North Beach neighborhood. Today [[Juana Briones at Washington Square|Washington Square occupies the land that once served as her corral and dairy farm]].

Here Briones set up her own farm with her children. In Yerba Buena she sold milk, took in sewing and offered nursing and healing services. She most likely also sold produce, beef, chicken and eggs to keep the household profitable. Throughout her life Briones was also known in the area for her abilities as a curandera, with native and herbal medicine and healing.

Briones briefly established another home at Mission Dolores but in 1844 she purchased the 4,400-acre Rancho La Purísima Concepción in the foothills near present-day Palo Alto. She bought the land from its Native American owners to expand her cattle ranching business. Briones’ status as a female landowner was unusual in an era where women generally could only possess land they inherited from a deceased husband. Despite her lack of formal education, Briones was a keen businesswoman with a seemingly intuitive understanding of how to make her case with the Mexican governmental system.

However when California became part of the United States and gained its statehood in 1850, Briones and her Hispanic contemporaries were required to certify their land ownership before the U.S. Land Commission. This legal process included a number of hurdles for all Mexican landholders, but especially for women and racial minorities.
The legal process was too difficult or expensive for many people who had owned land under Mexican law. Briones could neither read nor write, but she hired an astute lawyer and navigated the court system carefully and precisely. Her legal battle for property ownership ultimately made its way to the U.S. Supreme Court.

Through persistence, her business abilities and several legal battles aided by an effective lawyer, she ultimately emerged with documented ownership of her ranch and the property in Yerba Buena. Briones later purchased other tracts of land—five total in her lifetime—and eventually moved to the town of Mayfield, now part of Palo Alto. She built a home there in 1884 and remained in Mayfield until her death in 1889.

Briones’ life reflects California’s transition from the rugged Spanish and Mexican frontier to a more formalized society as part of the United States. The adobe home Briones built on her original rancho around 1845 still stands today in Palo Alto. Historians are working to convert the home into a hands-on history center.

More Resources on Juana Briones -

''Juana Briones of 19th Century California'', by Jeanne Farr McDonnell (The University of Arizona Press, 2008)

[http://www.brioneshouse.org Juana Briones Heritage site]

[[category:Women]] [[category:1823-1846]] [[category:Mexican]]

File:JuanaBriones cropped.jpg

2009-07-31T21:29:07Z

KMorris: Likely portrait of Juana Briones

Likely portrait of Juana Briones

Juana Briones

2009-07-31T21:24:09Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society''

Juana Briones was born in March 1802 in Villa de Branciforte, a secular village established by the Spanish at the site of present-day Santa Cruz. Like many of her contemporaries, Juana was a mestiza of mixed Spanish and Native American heritage. Her father and grandfather arrived as part of Spain’s very first push into Alta California, with the expeditions of Gaspar de Portolá and Juan Bautista de Anza.

Young Juana spent the first 10 years of her life in a wattle-and-daub house, before her father moved the entire family to the San Francisco Presidio. There she married Apolinario Miranda, a soldier, when she was 18 (a somewhat late age for women of her generation). Briones gave birth to 11 children, but four did not survive past childhood in the rugged frontier environment. Three of their children died within one month in 1828, and a fourth only one year later.

As a girl, Briones was under her father’s total authority until she married and that responsibility transferred to her husband. While Juana’s full married name was Juana de la Trinidad Briones y Tapia de Miranda, she used the name Juana Briones in all her business dealings. Her children used the surname Miranda.

In 1840, Briones brought a suit against her husband for physical abuse after repeated episodes of violence. Her husband was literate, while Juana could neither read nor write, but she navigated the male-leaning legal system, hiring people to write on her behalf. Society considered marriage indissoluble at the time, but Briones appealed to courts repeatedly and was ultimately granted a separation. Apolinario Miranda died in 1847 at age 54.

In the 1830s, Briones established her own homestead down the road from the land she previously occupied with her husband at the Presidio. Her claim in the town of Yerba Buena was in the area of the current North Beach neighborhood. Today [[Juana Briones at Washington Square|Washington Square occupies the land that once served as her corral and dairy farm]].

Here Briones set up her own farm with her children. In Yerba Buena she sold milk, took in sewing and offered nursing and healing services. She most likely also sold produce, beef, chicken and eggs to keep the household profitable. Throughout her life Briones was also known in the area for her abilities as a curandera, with native and herbal medicine and healing.

Briones briefly established another home at Mission Dolores but in 1844 she purchased the 4,400-acre Rancho La Purísima Concepción in the foothills near present-day Palo Alto. She bought the land from its Native American owners to expand her cattle ranching business. Briones’ status as a female landowner was unusual in an era where women generally could only possess land they inherited from a deceased husband. Despite her lack of formal education, Briones was a keen businesswoman with a seemingly intuitive understanding of how to make her case with the Mexican governmental system.

However when California became part of the United States and gained its statehood in 1850, Briones and her Hispanic contemporaries were required to certify their land ownership before the U.S. Land Commission. This legal process included a number of hurdles for all Mexican landholders, but especially for women and racial minorities.
The legal process was too difficult or expensive for many people who had owned land under Mexican law. Briones could neither read nor write, but she hired an astute lawyer and navigated the court system carefully and precisely. Her legal battle for property ownership ultimately made its way to the U.S. Supreme Court.

Through persistence, her business abilities and several legal battles aided by an effective lawyer, she ultimately emerged with documented ownership of her ranch and the property in Yerba Buena. Briones later purchased other tracts of land—five total in her lifetime—and eventually moved to the town of Mayfield, now part of Palo Alto. She built a home there in 1884 and remained in Mayfield until her death in 1889.

Briones’ life reflects California’s transition from the rugged Spanish and Mexican frontier to a more formalized society as part of the United States. The adobe home Briones built on her original rancho around 1845 still stands today in Palo Alto. Historians are working to convert the home into a hands-on history center.

More Resources on Juana Briones -

''Juana Briones of 19th Century California'', by Jeanne Farr McDonnell (The University of Arizona Press, 2008)

[http://www.brioneshouse.org | Juana Briones Heritage site]

[[category:Women]] [[category:1823-1846]] [[category:Mexican]]

Juana Briones

2009-07-31T21:23:33Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society''

Juana Briones was born in March 1802 in Villa de Branciforte, a secular village established by the Spanish at the site of present-day Santa Cruz. Like many of her contemporaries, Juana was a mestiza of mixed Spanish and Native American heritage. Her father and grandfather arrived as part of Spain’s very first push into Alta California, with the expeditions of Gaspar de Portolá and Juan Bautista de Anza.

Young Juana spent the first 10 years of her life in a wattle-and-daub house, before her father moved the entire family to the San Francisco Presidio. There she married Apolinario Miranda, a soldier, when she was 18 (a somewhat late age for women of her generation). Briones gave birth to 11 children, but four did not survive past childhood in the rugged frontier environment. Three of their children died within one month in 1828, and a fourth only one year later.

As a girl, Briones was under her father’s total authority until she married and that responsibility transferred to her husband. While Juana’s full married name was Juana de la Trinidad Briones y Tapia de Miranda, she used the name Juana Briones in all her business dealings. Her children used the surname Miranda.

In 1840, Briones brought a suit against her husband for physical abuse after repeated episodes of violence. Her husband was literate, while Juana could neither read nor write, but she navigated the male-leaning legal system, hiring people to write on her behalf. Society considered marriage indissoluble at the time, but Briones appealed to courts repeatedly and was ultimately granted a separation. Apolinario Miranda died in 1847 at age 54.

In the 1830s, Briones established her own homestead down the road from the land she previously occupied with her husband at the Presidio. Her claim in the town of Yerba Buena was in the area of the current North Beach neighborhood. Today [[Juana Briones at Washington Square|Washington Square occupies the land that once served as her corral and dairy farm]].

Here Briones set up her own farm with her children. In Yerba Buena she sold milk, took in sewing and offered nursing and healing services. She most likely also sold produce, beef, chicken and eggs to keep the household profitable. Throughout her life Briones was also known in the area for her abilities as a curandera, with native and herbal medicine and healing.

Briones briefly established another home at Mission Dolores but in 1844 she purchased the 4,400-acre Rancho La Purísima Concepción in the foothills near present-day Palo Alto. She bought the land from its Native American owners to expand her cattle ranching business. Briones’ status as a female landowner was unusual in an era where women generally could only possess land they inherited from a deceased husband. Despite her lack of formal education, Briones was a keen businesswoman with a seemingly intuitive understanding of how to make her case with the Mexican governmental system.

However when California became part of the United States and gained its statehood in 1850, Briones and her Hispanic contemporaries were required to certify their land ownership before the U.S. Land Commission. This legal process included a number of hurdles for all Mexican landholders, but especially for women and racial minorities.
The legal process was too difficult or expensive for many people who had owned land under Mexican law. Briones could neither read nor write, but she hired an astute lawyer and navigated the court system carefully and precisely. Her legal battle for property ownership ultimately made its way to the U.S. Supreme Court.

Through persistence, her business abilities and several legal battles aided by an effective lawyer, she ultimately emerged with documented ownership of her ranch and the property in Yerba Buena. Briones later purchased other tracts of land—five total in her lifetime—and eventually moved to the town of Mayfield, now part of Palo Alto. She built a home there in 1884 and remained in Mayfield until her death in 1889.

Briones’ life reflects California’s transition from the rugged Spanish and Mexican frontier to a more formalized society as part of the United States. The adobe home Briones built on her original rancho around 1845 still stands today in Palo Alto. Historians are working to convert the home into a hands-on history center.

More Resources on Juana Briones -

''Juana Briones of 19th Century California'', by Jeanne Farr McDonnell (The University of Arizona Press, 2008)

[http://www.brioneshouse.org| Juana Briones Heritage site]

[[category:Women]] [[category:1823-1846]] [[category:Mexican]]

Juana Briones

2009-07-31T21:22:00Z

KMorris:

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society''

Juana Briones was born in March 1802 in Villa de Branciforte, a secular village established by the Spanish at the site of present-day Santa Cruz. Like many of her contemporaries, Juana was a mestiza of mixed Spanish and Native American heritage. Her father and grandfather arrived as part of Spain’s very first push into Alta California, with the expeditions of Gaspar de Portolá and Juan Bautista de Anza.

Young Juana spent the first 10 years of her life in a wattle-and-daub house, before her father moved the entire family to the San Francisco Presidio. There she married Apolinario Miranda, a soldier, when she was 18 (a somewhat late age for women of her generation). Briones gave birth to 11 children, but four did not survive past childhood in the rugged frontier environment. Three of their children died within one month in 1828, and a fourth only one year later.

As a girl, Briones was under her father’s total authority until she married and that responsibility transferred to her husband. While Juana’s full married name was Juana de la Trinidad Briones y Tapia de Miranda, she used the name Juana Briones in all her business dealings. Her children used the surname Miranda.

In 1840, Briones brought a suit against her husband for physical abuse after repeated episodes of violence. Her husband was literate, while Juana could neither read nor write, but she navigated the male-leaning legal system, hiring people to write on her behalf. Society considered marriage indissoluble at the time, but Briones appealed to courts repeatedly and was ultimately granted a separation. Apolinario Miranda died in 1847 at age 54.

In the 1830s, Briones established her own homestead down the road from the land she previously occupied with her husband at the Presidio. Her claim in the town of Yerba Buena was in the area of the current North Beach neighborhood. Today [[Juana Briones at Washington Square|Washington Square occupies the land that once served as her corral and dairy farm]].

Here Briones set up her own farm with her children. In Yerba Buena she sold milk, took in sewing and offered nursing and healing services. She most likely also sold produce, beef, chicken and eggs to keep the household profitable. Throughout her life Briones was also known in the area for her abilities as a curandera, with native and herbal medicine and healing.

Briones briefly established another home at Mission Dolores but in 1844 she purchased the 4,400-acre Rancho La Purísima Concepción in the foothills near present-day Palo Alto. She bought the land from its Native American owners to expand her cattle ranching business. Briones’ status as a female landowner was unusual in an era where women generally could only possess land they inherited from a deceased husband. Despite her lack of formal education, Briones was a keen businesswoman with a seemingly intuitive understanding of how to make her case with the Mexican governmental system.

However when California became part of the United States and gained its statehood in 1850, Briones and her Hispanic contemporaries were required to certify their land ownership before the U.S. Land Commission. This legal process included a number of hurdles for all Mexican landholders, but especially for women and racial minorities.
The legal process was too difficult or expensive for many people who had owned land under Mexican law. Briones could neither read nor write, but she hired an astute lawyer and navigated the court system carefully and precisely. Her legal battle for property ownership ultimately made its way to the U.S. Supreme Court.

Through persistence, her business abilities and several legal battles aided by an effective lawyer, she ultimately emerged with documented ownership of her ranch and the property in Yerba Buena. Briones later purchased other tracts of land—five total in her lifetime—and eventually moved to the town of Mayfield, now part of Palo Alto. She built a home there in 1884 and remained in Mayfield until her death in 1889.

Briones’ life reflects California’s transition from the rugged Spanish and Mexican frontier to a more formalized society as part of the United States. The adobe home Briones built on her original rancho around 1845 still stands today in Palo Alto. Historians are working to convert the home into a hands-on history center.

More Resources on Juana Briones -

''Juana Briones of 19th Century California'', by Jeanne Farr McDonnell (The University of Arizona Press, 2008)

[http://www.brioneshouse.org|Juana Briones Heritage site]

[[category:Women]] [[category:1823-1846]] [[category:Mexican]]

Juana Briones

2009-07-31T21:19:10Z

KMorris: /* Juana Briones (1802-1889) */

Historical Essay

Allecia Vermillion
San Francisco Museum and Historical Society

''' Historical Essay '''

''by Allecia Vermillion

''San Francisco Museum and Historical Society''

Juana Briones was born in March 1802 in Villa de Branciforte, a secular village established by the Spanish at the site of present-day Santa Cruz. Like many of her contemporaries, Juana was a mestiza of mixed Spanish and Native American heritage. Her father and grandfather arrived as part of Spain’s very first push into Alta California, with the expeditions of Gaspar de Portolá and Juan Bautista de Anza.

Young Juana spent the first 10 years of her life in a wattle-and-daub house, before her father moved the entire family to the San Francisco Presidio. There she married Apolinario Miranda, a soldier, when she was 18 (a somewhat late age for women of her generation). Briones gave birth to 11 children, but four did not survive past childhood in the rugged frontier environment. Three of their children died within one month in 1828, and a fourth only one year later.

As a girl, Briones was under her father’s total authority until she married and that responsibility transferred to her husband. While Juana’s full married name was Juana de la Trinidad Briones y Tapia de Miranda, she used the name Juana Briones in all her business dealings. Her children used the surname Miranda.

In 1840, Briones brought a suit against her husband for physical abuse after repeated episodes of violence. Her husband was literate, while Juana could neither read nor write, but she navigated the male-leaning legal system, hiring people to write on her behalf. Society considered marriage indissoluble at the time, but Briones appealed to courts repeatedly and was ultimately granted a separation. Apolinario Miranda died in 1847 at age 54.

In the 1830s, Briones established her own homestead down the road from the land she previously occupied with her husband at the Presidio. Her claim in the town of Yerba Buena was in the area of the current North Beach neighborhood. Today [[Juana Briones at Washington Square|Washington Square occupies the land that once served as her corral and dairy farm]].

Here Briones set up her own farm with her children. In Yerba Buena she sold milk, took in sewing and offered nursing and healing services. She most likely also sold produce, beef, chicken and eggs to keep the household profitable. Throughout her life Briones was also known in the area for her abilities as a curandera, with native and herbal medicine and healing.

Briones briefly established another home at Mission Dolores but in 1844 she purchased the 4,400-acre Rancho La Purísima Concepción in the foothills near present-day Palo Alto. She bought the land from its Native American owners to expand her cattle ranching business. Briones’ status as a female landowner was unusual in an era where women generally could only possess land they inherited from a deceased husband. Despite her lack of formal education, Briones was a keen businesswoman with a seemingly intuitive understanding of how to make her case with the Mexican governmental system.

However when California became part of the United States and gained its statehood in 1850, Briones and her Hispanic contemporaries were required to certify their land ownership before the U.S. Land Commission. This legal process included a number of hurdles for all Mexican landholders, but especially for women and racial minorities.
The legal process was too difficult or expensive for many people who had owned land under Mexican law. Briones could neither read nor write, but she hired an astute lawyer and navigated the court system carefully and precisely. Her legal battle for property ownership ultimately made its way to the U.S. Supreme Court.

Through persistence, her business abilities and several legal battles aided by an effective lawyer, she ultimately emerged with documented ownership of her ranch and the property in Yerba Buena. Briones later purchased other tracts of land—five total in her lifetime—and eventually moved to the town of Mayfield, now part of Palo Alto. She built a home there in 1884 and remained in Mayfield until her death in 1889.

Briones’ life reflects California’s transition from the rugged Spanish and Mexican frontier to a more formalized society as part of the United States. The adobe home Briones built on her original rancho around 1845 still stands today in Palo Alto. Historians are working to convert the home into a hands-on history center.

More Resources on Juana Briones -

''Juana Briones of 19th Century California'', by Jeanne Farr McDonnell (The University of Arizona Press, 2008)

Juana Briones Heritage site: [http://www.brioneshouse.org]

[[category:Women]] [[category:1823-1846]] [[category:Mexican]]

Jade Snow Wong

2009-07-31T19:56:39Z

KMorris: biography of Jade Snow Wong

Historical Essay
by Allecia Vermillion, San Francisco Museum and Historical Society

== Jade Snow Wong (1922-2006) ==

Jade Snow Wong was born on a rare snowy January day in San Francisco in 1922, and given the English name of Constance. A lifelong San Franciscan, she was the fifth of nine immigrant children. Growing up she was taught to expect a particular type of life, laid out for her by tradition and her elders. Through education, determination and hard work, Wong went beyond these traditions to pursue her passion and talent for the arts.

Wong attended San Francisco City College and later Mills College, where she majored in economics and sociology. She worked as a secretary in a shipyard office during World War II, but was introduced to pottery through an art class during her last semester of college. Ceramics would become a lifelong passion. Wong worked at studios in Chinatown, Jackson Square and, most prominently, on Russian Hill. When she first began pursuing ceramics, she persuaded a Grant Avenue merchant to let her throw pots on her wheel in the shop’s front window.

Her 1950 autobiography, ''Fifth Chinese Daughter'', tells of Wong’s childhood as one of nine children growing up in Chinatown. Wong worked in her parents’ small clothing factory and spoke only Chinese until she was five years old. As a female in a male-prizing society, and one of a large number of children, Wong was raised to behave properly and define herself by the traditional female roles of daughter, then wife and mother. Her father forbade her to date and refused to pay for a college education, believing it wasted on a daughter. Jade chafed against these prohibitions, writing “I can’t help being born a girl... I am a person besides being a female! Don’t the Chinese admit that women also have feelings and minds?”

''Fifth Chinese Daughter'' describes Wong’s efforts to balance her identity as an American woman with her more traditional role as a Chinese daughter in a close-knit immigrant family. The book is written in the third person, allowing Wong the opportunity to look at issues of identity from a slight distance. She wrote, “There were alas no books or advisers to guide Jade Snow in her search for balance between the pull from two cultures. If she chose neither to reject nor accept in toto, she must sift both and make her decisions alone.”

Critics still hail it as a pioneering work of Asian-American literature, one of the first to express the issue of multiple identities for daughters of immigrants and minority cultures. Her book was so popular that the U.S. State Department asked Wong to tour Asia in 1953. She spoke to more than 200 groups across the continent about the life of a first-generation Chinese American. She describes this trip, along with a 1972 visit to the People’s Republic of China, in her second autobiography ''No Chinese Stranger''.

While Wong is more widely known as a writer, she also won tremendous acclaim as a ceramics artist, displaying her works at the M.H. de Young Memorial Museum, the Museum of Modern Art, the Art Institute of Chicago and New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art, among other locations.

She married fellow artist Woodrow Ong in 1950, and the pair worked together for many years, both in the arts and later managing a travel agency.

Wong was an especially devoted alumna of Mills College, leading the drive to build a new alumnae center in 1945. She secured donations, hired an architect, and purchased furniture for the completed Reinhardt Alumnae House. She was awarded an honorary doctorate by Mills College in 1976. That same year, ''Fifth Chinese Daughter'' was made into a half-hour special for public television.

When Wong died in 2006, she was still receiving visits and letters from fans both local and across the world, telling her how much her story of Chinese-American girlhood resonated with them.