Mindy’s and my trip to San Francisco was not so
eventful. Or, at least not in that way. The
flight down was pleasantly routine – a Friday evening departure from Toronto,
and a short shuttle ride to our hotel. Granted the shuttle skirted the Tenderloin district and we saw a "homeless hotel" along one of the streets, but we didn't know yet just how bad that area was. Our hotel room - which was not at sidewalk level - was small and, aside from
a curious layout where the bathroom looked into the bathroom of the neighbouring
room (I noticed a woman walk into the other bathroom and quickly close the
blinds), it was exactly what I wanted at 3am Toronto time! Before drifting off
to sleep, we booked a few more adventures in Japan; this trip still seems
unreal! (Those stories will come as the adventures happen. Stay tuned!)
With 8 hours to explore San Francisco on a Saturday, what better to do
than book a 6.5 hour tour? Our converted trolley car – which made us a tourist
attraction as we went about town – met us at Union Square at 7:45am.
We traversed Lombard Street – the crookedest street there is,
and climbed many of San Francisco’s 9 major hills.
The main attraction of the morning, however, was the
Rock. I don’t mean Dwayne Johnson, but
Alcatraz!
Originally named for the gulls that populate the island,
Alcatraz has served as a military base protecting the San Francisco Bay, a
military prison, and the most notorious prison in the USA. Al Capone may have
been one of the most prominent prisoners of Alcatraz, but the Birdman and Machine
Gun Kelly were some of the most deadly and horrific of them. Touring the facility today highlights the
principles of the era, when prison was not meant to rehabilitate, only to
punish and segregate.
Prisoners at Alcatraz were guaranteed the necessities of
life – food, medical care, and shelter.
Anything else was considered a luxury, and had to be earned with good
behaviour (or rescinded as punishment). While the cells were small and the “special
treatment units” (“the hole”) claustrophobic, the food was considered very
good. Prisoners were invited to take as
much as they wished, provided they ate all that they took. A rowdy riot at
meal-time – when every prisoner is armed with a metal knife, fork, and spoon –
might have also carried a digestif of tear gas, as canisters were built into
the ceiling of the dining hall. As our
tour pointed out, it is a good thing that these canisters were never used. The
three guards on the floor would never have survived the resultant chaos.
Notwithstanding that they were among the most violent and
irredeemable men of the time, guards at Alcatraz stepped onto the prison floor
armed only with a whistle. (Well, that was policy, anyway. Apparently, many of them also secreted in a
leather-wrapped club as back-up.) Guards overlooking the rows of cells from
elevated cages were armed with guns. During one ill-fated escape attempt, a
prisoner starved himself to be able to slip through the bars of the gun cage,
knocked the guard out and stole his guns and keys. When the would-be escapees couldn’t open the
door to the outside, they vented their frustrations on the hostaged
guards. Two guards and three prisoners
ultimately died that day, with two more prisoners executed for their roles in
the escape attempt.
Alcatraz had its share of escape attempts, but most were
equally unsuccessful. Three brothers
managed to escape, but to what end?
No-one knows. (An aside: that three brothers made it to Alcatraz, each
on his own, is another story that is worth exploring. That kind of social commentary was not part
of the tour today.) The brothers created dummy heads of hair from the barber
shop clipings, cement mix, toilet paper, and anything else they could get their hands
on. With these dummies fooling the
guards on the night counts, the brothers slipped through their ventilation
grates, and crawled silently to the roof inside the walls. They slipped past guard-houses and made it to
the water’s edge with a raft fashioned out of rain-coats. And then they……? Some believe they drowned in San Francisco
Bay. Others believe they made it to
South America, putting to use the Spanish classes they had each been taking at
prison. They escaped Alcatraz island,
but no-one knows whether they escaped the true prison. It wasn’t just the walls of the cell house
and the sightlines of the marksmen in the towers, the cold choppy waters of San
Francisco Bay were the ultimate barriers to freedom.
Prison is as much about psychology as anything else, and I
can only imagine the psychological effect of tantalising, downright beautiful
views of San Francisco from the island prison.
Many of the guards, including the prison wardens, lived on
the island with their families. Children
went to school, and gardens lined the streets.
It was a very small town with a very bad neighbourhood.
After decades of use as a prison of one sort
or another, Alcatraz has now been taken over by the National Parks Service, and
is home only to the birds that nest there.
After Alcatraz, we went for lunch at the Bodin Bakery, known
for its sourdough loaves of unusual shapes:
Then we were off to an engineering marvel of the modern
world, the Golden Gate Bridge!
A feat of human ingenuity, it is inspiring just to look upon
the bridge. Of course, the beautiful
backdrops of San Francisco Bay and the Marin headlands don’t hurt, either. Top
it off with a sea lion playing in the waters off Fort Point (I did not catch a photo of that,
but trust me, it was there), and you’ve got yourself a great time in San
Francisco!
The tour wrapped up with a drive through the Presidio, a
little neighbourhood nestled amongst majestic eucalyptus and fir trees beside
San Francisco proper.
We returned to
Union Square and made our way back to our hotel for a shuttle back to the
airport. This ride was a little less uneventful
than the ride out, as our driver nearly killed a woman crossing the
street. One of those scenarios where I
was too stunned to speak as we kept driving toward her as she crossed the road…
Finally, she became aware of the oncoming van and ran out of the way. About that time, our driver seemed to notice
her, too. Eek!
We checked into our flight to Tokyo; this trip to Japan
still doesn’t seem real! On Saturday evening in San Francisco, we boarded a
ten-hour flight that would land us in Japan on Sunday night. Whether it feels
it or not, this trip is real. Japan,
here we come!
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