Name	Edmund Patrick Fewer Sr.1
Birth	4 Jul 1884, Waterford, Waterford, Or Aglish, Kilkenny, Ireland2,1,3
Death	1 Feb 1947, San Francisco, San Francisco, CA4
Baptism	4 Jun 1884, Aglish, Kilkenny, Ireland1
Father	Richard Fewer (~1859-)
Mother	Catherine Phelan (~1856-)

Marriage

7 Nov 1907

Spouse	May Anne Devine
Birth	13 Aug 1882, Kerry, Ireland
Death	1 Mar 1984, Santa Clara, Santa Clara, CA
Baptism	15 Aug 1882, St. Brendan's Clogher Ballymacelligott2
Emigration	17 Apr 1902, From Ireland
Soc. Sec. #	568-30-9648
Father	Brian (Or Bernard) Devine (-1916)
Mother	Catherine Savage

Children

1 M	Edward Patrick Fewer Jr.
Birth	20 Mar 1908, San Francisco, San Francisco, CA, USA

Spouse	Philomenia
Marriage	6 Sep 1960

2 M	Brian Richard Fewer
Birth	21 Sep 1911, San Francisco, San Francisco, CA, USA

Spouse	Ruth Webster
Marriage	14 Mar 1942

Spouse	Mimi
Marriage	4 Nov 1989, San Francisco, CA

3 M	Robert Beau Fewer
Birth	2 Jun 1913, San Francisco, San Francisco, CA, USA

Spouse	Dorothy Demaria
Marriage	31 Jan 1942

4 F	Gertrude May Fewer
Birth	15 Jun 1915, San Francisco, San Francisco, CA, USA
Death	26 Nov 1971, CA, USA

Spouse	James Jasper Dorais
Marriage	6 Jun 1936, CA

5 F	Helen Fewer
Birth	18 Jul 1921, San Francisco, San Francisco, CA, USA

Spouse	Leo John Maselli
Marriage	30 Sep 1961

Spouse

Charles Blair

Notes for Edmund Patrick Fewer Sr.

came to US to live with Uncle Matthew Phelan²

Misc. Notes

I found the following directory listings:

1905:
FEWER, Edward, salesman, r. 1833 Hyde
Thomas, condtr, Cal. St. RR, r 1833 Hyde

1908/09:
FEWER, Edward P., lab., r. 374 26th av
Thomas, gardener, r. 422 8th av
Walter, refiner, US Mint, r. 350 9th av

1909/10:
FEWER, Walter, refiner, US Mint, r. 704 8th av

1911:
FEWER, E., cond., r. 374 26th av
Thos., lab., r. 422 8th av
Walter, refiner, r. 1152 Clement

in the 1982 phone book were:
FEWER, B. (no address listed)
Brian, 731 41st av
Robt, 731 41st av
⁵

Misc. Notes

The earliest memory that I have of Dad is when I was about three years old. It could not have been that I was older, as I was still the only child.

The memory is delightful even now eighty two years later.

It is of Dad washing me just before bedtime. I was sitting on the old wooden drain board in the kitchen of the original two room shack, which had been 'improved' just that last year. Improved from what actually was only a floor and a roof with walls of tarpaper. By the time I reached the age of three, wood had been put on over the tarpaper walls, doors and windows installed and a cold water faucet over a sink. Not that I was being washed with cold water. Oh no, the water
was wonderfully warm and Dad had a wonderful soft touch with the face cloth. When I occasionally use a blade razor, instead of an electric shaver, and run a warm face cloth over my face, it brings back memories.., and tears.

The water was warm, as I learned later, in the wood burning kitchen stove, which had a 'water-back' This water-back was a few short lengths of water pipe installed in the fire box. As the water heated it flowed into a thirty gallon tank behind the stove.
The wood burned in the kitchen stove was chopped by Dad. When I got a little older I piled the wood as he chopped. The wood obtained from a all over San Francisco. Seems Dad spotted buildings where there had been a fire, or were being torn down and offered to cart the old lumber away. He always knew where to borrow a horse and wagon. I was taken on a few of these trips.

One I remember well, which was told on old KGO radio. About 1917 Dad was a conductor on Car 42 of the Hyde Street Cable Car Line. On his trips up and down Hyde Street, he noticed that one of the old mansions on Hyde Street was being torn down. He stopped the car in the middle of the block and went to the wrecking site to ask the foreman of DOLAN'S wrecking crew if he could haul some of the lumber away. The foreman said ... 'yes, take the old outside lumber but leave all of the frescoes and inside wood. A couple of days later Dad borrowed a horse and wagon and took me down to ''help' load the lumber on the wagon, Well, in a couple of hours the wagon was more than full of real choice fire-wood-lumber. Dad clucked the horse out onto Hyde Street and started up the hill. Anyone that knows San Francisco knows Hyde Street is quite a hill. And at that time is was paved with cobble stones. The poor horse, with its tremendous load kept slipping on the stones. We, I mean Dad, did not dare to turn and head down hill... we would have landed in the Bay. So he pulled the horse and wagon and lumber and me over to the side of the street. There we waited for the next Cable Car to come up the hill. Dad flagged it down. Of course he knew both the conductor and the Gripman. In a few minutes the three of them had a rope tied to the back of the car and the other end to the front of the wagon. I can still hear the horse saying "thank God" and this was before long before Ed the Talking Horse. In a few minutes we were at the top of the hill and on our own and on the way to 26th and Clement with a load of fine lumber, soon to be converted in fire-wood by Dad.

Dad liked to chop wood. Perhaps he worked off some of his frustrations by this physical activity.. .and god knows he had aplenty of them, as only he and I knew about. ..and now I only know. He was without a doubt the most malaligned man I ever knew. As far as I know the only 'exercise' that Dad ever engaged in was chopping wood. He chopped and I piled. Oh, he did introduced Rounders to the neighborhood, but actually he did not play very often. So where he got his physical strength I don't know. He was the strongest man I ever knew. Most people resisted shaking hand with him a second time... .and he did not squeeze hard to be mean.. there was not a mean bone in his body.. .he could carry tremendous weights of wood, as he did in carrying drift logs from Bakers Beach, for firewood naturally.

Often Dad would take me for a walk down to China Beach and we would wade in the cold water on the soft sand. He often said that if one would walk in the cold water every day he would never grow old

When I was very young Dad was a sewer cleaner. He and a couple of other fellows would walk about the City every day with long shovels, maybe ten or twelve feet long with the blades set at a sharp angle. They would pull the grates of at each corner and dig out the silt and other debris Pile it up on the corner awaiting another crew with a horse and wagon. That job did not suit Dad and he got another one at Kinghams Ham & Bacon Co. smoking hams. Soon he moved up to Conductor on old #42.

As an education, and entertainment I was once in awhile give a couple of nickels to pay my streetcar fare down and back to Hyde Street where I would wait for old 42. When 42 hove in site I would climb aboard and ride to the end of the line and back, with instructions to memorize the names of the street. Dad would very somberly collect a nickel from me. This I could not understand, believing that he should let me ride free. Later I was told that I was a passenger and had to pay like everyone else besides there might be an INSPECTOR on board, watching.

About this time....1921 Uncle Den Devine (Mom's brother) got on the Police Force, as it was called in those days. He came out one evening to tell us about the job and to show off his paraphernalia, We were in rapt attention over the star shivered at the night-stick and billie club could hardly look at the pistol and found the handcuffs very inter- esting, especially when Uncle Den demonstrated them to all of us by handcuffing Dads hands together, to then remember he had left the keys at home. With mush embarrassment Dad had to ride the Clement Line streetcar down to Uncle Den's home on Larken Street....like a criminal yet.

Dad wanted to be a Policeman nothing would stop him. Still a conductor on the Hyde line, he started Civil Service night school. After a few months notices were posted that the Fireman's examination and then the Police examination were about to be held. Dad took and passed both of the examinations. However he scored a little higher on the fireman's and was soon called up. He really was not anxious to be a Fireman, but it paid better than THE Cable Cars and besides the hours were much better in that he would no longer have to get up at four thirty every morning as a Conductor, and would no longer have to cover his chest with newspaper before putting on his shirt. The Cars were bitter cold in the mornings as they were wide open to the wind and fog of San Francisco.

So Dad became a Fireman.... for about a year, then his name came to the top of the list on the Police roll. So I'll never forget, the excitement was terrific...his dream come true-he was in Blue.



There was never a man more proud of his uniform. At five foot eight he stood a foot taller, and commanded and got the respect due the uniform and badge from those residents of his varied Beats.

As long as the subject of his height has been open, this would be a good place to remind the reader that the minimum height required to be a San Francisco Police Officer was five feet eight inches. Dad was not quite five feet eight, and this showed up on the physical examination. Imagine he passed the written exam fairly high, passed all the physical tests of running, lifting, carrying, jumping with high scores and now he is faced with the fact that he is a little too short. Well the examining doctor was a human being. He told Dad to go home and stay in bed for a week, have someone pull his legs a couple of times a day and then come back for a re-exam And that's what Dad did, We kids pulled several times everyday. When the day of the exam came we called friend who owned a truck... . in the back of that truck we hauled Dad down to the examining depot and almost carried him in for the second measurer Needless to say he passed the test and was taken home to shrink back to hi original five feet seven and seven eighths inches.

In the early day's on 26th Avenue Dad grew dahlias and potatoes. All thought the Richmond District the soil was virgin sand. . we had better potatoes than anywhere in Ireland… . and we had the best, largest, most colorful dahlias anywhere. We also had the largest and most abundant blossoms of Baby Roses, Year long there at least two hundred Baby Roses (Probably today called Tea Roses). Men on their way to work, walking down 26th Avenue would stop and pick buttoneirs every morning .

There are two other occupations of Dad's that I remember well. He cut our hair. . at least the hair of the three boys. I think Gertie and Helen escaped. In the beginning the victim sat on a stool in the kitchen and Dad hacked away with a comb and scissors. As he gained more expertise, and a few dollars, a hand activated clippers was added. Seems that if the clipper was moved faster than it was squeezed it would pull the hair and we would yelp. I once accused him of pulling my hair out instead of cutting it.

Dad also repaired our shoes. He bought a shoe-makers last and a box of tacks. The last had three or four different size cast iron shoe's onto which our various size shoes would be fitted and a piece of leather would be tacked on. One word about the leather. At this period Dad was a Conductor of old #42 Cable Car. These cars were cable-cars, that is there was a moving cable under the tracks, that when hooked onto would pull the car. Movement of this cable was produced by a big motor in the basement of the car-barn In this process large leather belts were used. They were more than a foot wide and many feet long. Frequently the belts would break and have to be repaired. Dad got the leather scraps and used them for shoe leather. This leather after having been used as a motor belt was as hard as iron, and when used as shoe leather would last longer than the original.

Dad was a strong, physical man, but he had one weakness. That was his skin. Policemen took their turns at traffic duty, and when Dad's turn came to direct traffic, say at the corner of Fulton and the Great Highway, he would come home the color of a tomato. His body was the whitest white, and could not be exposed to the sun. This maybe one of the reasons that he never went on picnics or summer vacations with us. I can remember once, we were all up at Guernewood Park for a month's summer enjoyment (more about that later) and Dad came up on the train for a weekend. . I'm sure he miserable the entire time. He sat on the beach with us dressed in a blue serge suit complete with white shirt and tie, only sans a jacket. Sweating and turning red .

That was his one and only vacation with us. We used to go on picnics every Sunday. These started shortly after we bought our first car, in the Spring of 1923. I would phone, oh yes, by then we had a phone, The number was 108. Anyway, on Friday evening I would phone various friends, who had cars in the family, such as Noel Waite, Pinky Robinson, Al Pottero to see if they could go the next Sunday, always asking what room they would have in the car for anyone who did not have a car, but would like to go. Then I would call those who did not have a car, who (Whom) would like to go, such as Rosy Rosenberg, Seymore Pearson, Fritz Pfeffer and those whom I have forgotten. We would arrange to meet, after Mess, and caravan to the picnic. This caravanning was important, because three or four cars could not be expected to go about forty miles without trouble. . . . and it was always nice to have help with the trouble.

So we would gather Sunday morning about eleven o'clock and drive to the picnic area which would usually be Woodside Creek, Searsville, Half Moon Bay or once in awhile Almaden. We had GREAT TIMES. Every body brought their specialty food and we feasted like kings. Hiked and swam and sometimes shot, with our twenty-twos, at ground squirrels (never ever hitting a one,) I can not ever remember Dad going on one of these picnics.
Before we had the car a RED SAXON (More about that Later). . Dad and the entire family, which became more numerous as time went by, would take Sunday walks, almost always to the Park. Of course to San Franciscans there is only one park. . Golden Gate Park. Sometimes we would go to the concerts at the open air pavilion near the Conservatory. Many other times we would walk to a lake near twenty forth and Fulton, take our lunch and have a day walking thru the bambow jungle and trying to catch a fish in the lake. A great day but always a long walk home.
As I remember from about the age of three years, Dad always 'played' Santa at Christmas. Early on, he was Santa only to me and Mom. At what could be his first performance we had a fire. There was a Christmas Tree established on the kitchen table, decorated with homemade ornaments and lighted with candles. Well, Santas beard (Of cotton) got too near a candle and every thing light up. But Santa being omniscient, grabbed a pan from under the sink and doused the flames. Little Ed was asking the next day, 'How did Santa know where the pans were ?"
Dad ran this Santa routine for about thirty five years, before brother Dib took over the job.
Dad set the pattern for Dib to follow, he would tour the neighborhood for all jolly good fellows to follow him, all the while singing, down to 374 - 26th Avenue, where we would all gather at Mom's candle light tree, for small gifts and a few good swallows, and then off to Midnite Mass. There is no doubt that a few milk-warmers were enticed to follow.

At a very early age I can remember Dad & Mom and I going to the local movie house on Friday nights. . . in a short while Dib was added and very soon Beau came along. The movie house was at 23rd and Clement, and was named The Nicloludium.. . That's exactly what is was. The NICK and you could get in for a nick, or a nickel.

They had great movies. W.S. Hart . who NEVER kissed the GIRL . Charlie
Chaplin. Fattie Arbuckle W.C. FIELDS and so many others, Trials of
Pauline., .Fu-Manchu. . . ( if the author needs more I will re-search).

As we filed to the theater. . . Mom, Dib (maybe Beau) and I, we push and pull so that we could sit any where but next to Dad. He was exuberant His laughter carried thru out the theater, in fact even started the laugh. And just in case you, sitting next to him, did not catch the joke, or what ever was funny, you got a 'nudge' in the ribs from Dad's elbow to help you catch the 'funny'. Ones rib might not break, but then you remembered when the next family together movies took place.
After the movie we all ran home. . . all the way claiming 'firsts' on the bathroom. What am I saying we had no bathroom. There was a kitchen sink and a shed about thirty feet back of the house. . . a pre Chic Sales. And let me say one thing about an outside Privy. There is nothing whatever that has contributed more to CONSTIPATION than a privy in cold damp foggy San Francisco .

One of the things that stands out in my mind, is that I was NEVER conscious of being poor. I guess we probably were poor most of the time, but kids never knew it. Well, after all, we were always well fed. Always in a nice, snug bed, even if two slept up and two slept down. Thats to-That's We were always well clothed. . . . some of mine were new some of my clothes came from McCallister Street and all were handed down to Dib And then they to Beau. And after all those little kids didn't know new from old. But were kept warm and dry.

Yes, warm and dry. Well these modern kids don't know what that means. Let me help them. San Francisco, not now, but eighty years ago was a cold and damp place to live. Our little shack on 26th Avenue at 374, was cold drafty, uninsulated. One layer of wood or. the floor and one layer of wood on the walls. The windows and doors leaked air like a gale. Now that can and was cold. Mom would get Dad off with breakfast about five AM. Then with the kitchen stove red-hot we kids would get a call. maybe ABOUT SEVEN. They last of us, probably me, would dragged out to the kitchen to get dressed. Mind you we had only two rooms - kitchen and bedroom . . . privy in BACKYARD. "BUT MOM I Don't HAVE TO GO".

All of us would dress standing on stools or chairs, because it was warmer up off the stone cold floor. . I can remember, there was a shelf about shoulder hight when I seated on the chair, on the shelf was a can containing Mom's buttons. It was an old tobacco can. Every morning I would read the printed matter on the sides of the tobacco can, and to this day I can recall the printed matter almost as well as I can my prayers. " United Tobacco. . . . etc. " Ask Dorothy, she has the can.
³

Misc. Notes

Our Father Edward Patrick Fewer

Dad also came from Ireland on a ship. Come to think of that, how else could one get here at that time? The first job he worked at , was shoveling gravel off of a "flat car" in Stockton during the hot summer time.

Our Dad was something. Along with hand me down clothing, he cut our hair , re-soled our shoes with belt leather scraps. Sometimes the tacks did not get bent over enough on the iron last, leaving the points up toward the soles of our feet; we used cardboard to ease up on the ouches, until he got out the ""iron last"" again.

⁶

Census

"Edmund" resident at home in 1901, agricultural labourer¹

Notes for May Anne Devine

Birth & Baptismal Certificate
Parish of Ballymacelligott, Diocese of Kerry, St. Brendan's Ballymacelligott by Rev. D. McCarthy
Parents Bernard Devane, Catherine Savage
Sponsors Patrick Devane, Johanna Scanlon
Signed M. O'Donoghue, 23 Sep 1965, Ballymacelligott²

Misc. Notes

Our Mother May Devine Fewer

Mom came on a ship from Ireland, alone, at the mature age of sixteen. She ventured westerly, after a short stay with her sister in Waterbury, Connecticut.

Her two brothers, Pat and Den preceded her to San Francisco; they and another brother, John, came to this country earlier. Not long after Mom's arrival, the City was demolished by the 1906 earthquake and fire. She and some friends rode a wagon to San Mateo until things cooled down. When life was fairly calm in San Francisco, she returned to take up where she left off. She finished her studies (I believe the school was Hastings), and soon went to work for a Law firm.

Our dear Mother took three of us to the 1915 Panama Pacific Worlds Fair in the Marina District; most of the Fair was erected on filled ground The Palace of Fine Arts is the only retraining building which was restored and should last another hundred years.

Upon arriving at the Fair by streetcar, our Mother discovered that she had left the baby's food at home. Two of us remained at the Fair, while Mom took streetcars back home for the food and then back to the Fair. One act at the Fair was a motorcycle stunt. This very noisy motorcycle was driven around and around on the inside walls of a structure resembling a very large sewer pipe that was standing on end; also there were stunt flying airplanes over the San Francisco Baby. I believe they took off and landed at Crissy Field. I heard say that San Francisco was the only major city with an airport inside the city limits. We probably had food from the Fair booths, but I do not remember now.

There were the years when most of what you needed came to you. Freed Teller & Freed the coffee and tea merchant came regularly to 26th Avenue in a horse drawn buggy. The horse was tethered with a leather strap with a roundish weight on the pavement One day , while he was getting an order from Mom and the neighbors, my older brother picked me up and put me on the horses back; not being a saddle horse, he bucked me off and as I landed his hind hoof caught me in the ribs and then my forehead contacted the curb. Dr. Thompson stitched the forehead closed.

The Ice Man came several days a week. His horse drawn wagon was enclosed with the back end closed with canvas. The Ice Man wore a leather apron and back of the shoulder piece. He would deliver whole slabs, half or quarter. We hung around his wagon for the chips of ice to suck on.

The Vegetable Man drove a horse and wagon open on both sides. His scales hung from the back of his seat; several neighbors would approach the wagon at the same time, for the usually fresh vegetables.

Peoples Bread came in a truck having metal sides and top. It was the best smelling vehicle, loaded with trays of bread, donuts, coffee cake and so on. ( About twenty years later, my son Brian bought a used panel truck labeled "Peoples Bread'").

The Rag Bottle Sack Man drove a horse drawn slat sided wagon. One could hear him approaching from the California street side of the hill. Truthfully, he bleated just like a goat , he did not pronounce words but everyone knew when he was approaching. Our Mother and he got along famously. She would have her wares ready for him, usually a gunny sack or two of rags , a few bundles of paper and some metal , maybe an old sprig and frame of a bed. He saw her at the garage door and alighted from his wagon.

The conversation went like this: Good morning Main, what have you got there? Good morning, I have just these few .... .Ah lady, ~papers don't bring a thing these days but I could take them off your hands. Not at all.. Now how much will you give me for the rags? The most would be 50¢... And how much for the metal?... Believe me lady, 35¢ would be generous... I appreciate your kindness, now for all of this, you can have it for $1.95....But lady...but...but...In the end Mom won out. Every time the Rag Bottle Sack man came, the bartering was repeated .

Mom was a great cook, she handled the old wood burning stove without any trouble; she produced many loaves of irish soda bread, muffins, biscuits, cakes and pies. Corn beef and cabbage was one of her specialties, The best part was making hash with hand grinder the next day.

⁶

Misc. Notes

Something I must find out, you stated that Gram was sixteen when she came over - she told me she was eighteen??? Also two of her brothers went back to Waterbury and picked her up and brought her out here so they could take proper care of her. (Her words) According to Mom & Dad's marriage certificate on the 30th day of October 1908 she was 22yrs and Dad was 23yrs old.
They were married on the 2nd day of November 1907. Walter and Ella Fewer were witnesses.²

Notes for Edward Patrick (Child 1)

We could write a lot of fiction about the O'Fewers (didn't know about that I'll bet), but if you want to keep it straight, here are a couple.

Dr. C.P. Thompson, who lived in a large house on Clement St. right across from Lincoln Parks seventh green, did NOT attend the birth of any of the O'Fewer children.
Lady
All of we children were birthed by two midwives. A little old, she seemed old when Brian was born, by the name of Mrs. McManus, mostly known as Grandma Mack, attended the birth of the first three. over the years we became very well acquainted with Granma Mack. She used to visit even when her services were not needed, and I can remember going to visit her when she real was old. Not just old in years but that too, being well into her eighties, but also old with the aches and pains of arthritis and almost blind. But still a cheerful little leprechaun.

During therein of Grandma Mack, we did have a family doctor, while not actually attending the birthings, did drive by to she that everything was OK. Did I say 'drive-by' ? Yep that's what she did. In her two seater electric automobile. Instead of a steering heels she steered with a tiller arm. (If I remember her name I'll send it along)

The forth and fifth children were birthed by a midwife by the name of Mrs. Strethers. She was I believe from the deep South and ingrained with the custom of 'totes'. She came to the house every day, as did Grandma Mack, and stayed all day feeding the other children, getting Dad dinner ready, and doing a little house work. Upon leaving every day she would take a 'tote'. What the 'tote' was varied. Some days it would be a couple of spoonfuls of sugar or a half a cupful of flour, a few beans, a little tea or a couple of cookies. But always something.. This was in no way considered stealing, it was and expected part of her compensation. But it did irk Mom. She would always ask, 'what-did-she- take-today." Mrs. Strether was a nice lady, probably English; her family settling probably in Georgia. She lived on Clement Street over Kenny's Bazaar.

Robin also assisted in the birthing of the two girls. The fourth and fifth children of this saga.

Robin, ah me. What a lady. What a friend. What a nice person. So thoughtful of others, So kind. So positive. A fat lump of a person who could not cook or sew or darn socks, or do housework. Just plain did not know how to do any of these things. But there were things she did know how to do. She knew how to support those around her. She could really buoy one up. She would say, 'think positive, God will help.' THIS in the 1920s ! I believe that she never worried for one second in her whole life. She was always thinking of helping someone else. Every single day of her life she wrote short letters or just cards to various people. These were re cards with notes of inspiration and cheer. In the letters she alway enclosed a dime or a quarter to help the needy that she was writ to. How does Ed know this ? Well may is the time that I ran down the hill to the Post Box or Mail box with the missives, just in time to catch the 'last-pick-up, after writing her notes she would read Robin sure did influence my life. Them aloud and ask, 'how does this WHO in the world is Robin. " Sound/'

Well Robin was Mrs. C.R. ROBINSON who lived next door....no, she lived two doors up the hill on 26th Avenue.
She was my second mother.

Robin and her husband Charles and her only "child, Frances Charles Robinson were ~ very good neighbors. It was like we were all one family. If we needed they had~if they needed we had. Not just of things, but of physical help, advice, cheer, and being good friends, criticism.

In the Robinson household lived another person. Robin's sister Nan. ~whose pen name is Fannie A. Charles. A quiet T.~well know author~ in the early 1900s. Now comes a part of this missive that the re-writer is on his own as to whether or now includes it. However it is the truth, and all the parties involved are dead and gone, I see no problem in publishing the truth, even if its a little scandal I have another 26th Avenue scandal to write about a little later, unless Dib beats me to it.

Frances, better known as Pinkey, was the only son in the Robinson household at 372 - 26th Avenue. But he was not the son of Charles Robinson and Sally (Robin) Mrs. Charles Robinson. He was the son of Charles Robinson and Nan, aka Fannia A. Charles, Mrs. Robinson's sister. This is a pretty well kept secret. As of this date I am probably the only one privy, even to some details such
as...
Our ~Mom Fewer ~expended much physical effort helping Robin 'catch up on her house~keeping, clearing out closets that had become catch-all places, and even helped on her darning and clothes repair. At these things Robin was helpless. ~Mom also helped tie a pillow on Robin's abdomen , under her dress' Whenever Robin would need to leave the house to go to the store or to go to Church. This pillow stunt was of course to simulate pregnancy, so that Robin could appear to the world as the mother of Frances. In all the years that we lived as neighbors I never saw Aunt Nan leave the house. Not even to go into the backyard. Never went to church or shopping or even a ride in their beautiful red Stevens Durea touring car.
Pinky was even christened after his birth mother ic Frances Charles.

Just to keep all the scandal on the same page there is the story of the couple that lived next door to the Robinsons. This story may be forgotten now that it is sixty years later, but it was no secret at the time. Headline~ screamed at the time from the Chronicle, Examiner, Call and the Daily News. I remember one headline it read - DING LONG DADDY OF THE "D" LINE. These neighbors were £4.& Mrs. Leffingwell. A quiet and apparently well behaved couple, with no children. Mrs. Lefffingwell was a short plump individual, but old George was FAT and short. He used to not walk up our hill on 26th Avenue, he waddled. But was a pleasant, even jolly good neighbors
> was conductor on the ijuni line that ran along~ Van ~Ness Avenue and up to the Presidio It was the "2" line~y~ me George was the worlds most unlikely man to be attractive to a women. Shows that one can never be sure what goes on in the female mind. Believe it or not, at the time~was Living in married bliss~ on 26th Avenue, he had a second wife at the other end of the "D" line.

Don't 1~know whatever happened to this couple. They both left 26th Avenue, and their cottage was vacant for a long long time I guess the wife probably ~got sore at George. You never know about the female.



Dib - on your page One, just below MORE ON THE DOCTOR LATER, you may want to add the following.

When Dad and Mom were first establishing~ themselves and their first child on 26th ~venue the Richmond District was very primitive. On 26th Avenue in my earliest memory there were only a small cluster of houses, plus a saloon called the Red Front (because it was painted red). The saloon was on the south side of Clement between 25th and 26th. Of an evening when the boys were whooping it up, and even having a few fights, it could all be heard in our little house. One reason all this gaiety could be heard was of course the saloon was only about a hundred yards, as the crow flies, from our home. The other reason we could hear so plainly was that there was a great deal of fog in those days, and sound travels much better ma foggy atmosphere. People living in San if Francisco today don't know what for really is. Now we are talking about 1910 forward. That's when we had FOG. Even in the 1930s we had fog that was so thick that when ~ c~driving a car 'are could not see the radiator. Manys the time driving out Clement or Geary returning from a movie on Filmore Street, I have had to open the drivers door and look straight down at the car tracks in order to keep her headed straight.

There was one instance on Clement between twenty seventh and twenty eighth at night when the trolly came off the wire. The conductor had to get off the stalled car to pull on the rope and get the trolley back in place. The streets behind could not see them in the fog and ran into the stalled car. Killed the conductor. He was a neighbor, lived on Clement within a block of the accident. He was the father of three of the prettiest Irish girls in the City.

The fog used to pour in like milk.

I can remember having a golf date, to play at Lincoln Park, rather early in the morning. In my car I was to pick up a friend to play with, at the corner of mist and Geary. Well I drove out Geary, all the while watching the car tracks to keep me straight. Counting and calculating the rise of the hills until I was Pretty sure I was near 4lst Avenue. I could see nothing, I mean nothing, let alone see my friend standing on the corner. So I stopped and shouted, "Doug are you there?". Somewhere off in the near-distance a voice answered, Yeah, I'm here, where are you". Even though my lights were on he could not see me, and we were within 200' of each other. How could we play go in that kind of a situation ? well my answer is 'Not very well."

The FOG had some things about it that I liked, altho over all it depresses me what I liked was laying in bed at night and listening to the fog horns. There were several. Now today, I suppose most San Franciscans don't even know what a Fog Horn is.... and may not have ever heard one.

We had Fog Horn~in various places in the Golden Gate District and one or two in the Bay. Each one had its own very distinctive sound and number of bleats, and we got to be able to identify each one. Of course the captains and pilots of any ship or boat maneuvering about the Bay or going in or out of t~the Straight, was obligated to know exactly which horn sound and tempo of bleat for each location. We had Fog Horns at Point Reyes Fort Chronkite, Fort Baker, Mile Rock... (Dib,You can do better at this than I)
We used to listen to them after going to bed. To some they are a most mournful sound, if they have ever heard them. They lulled us to sleep.

Today they are hardly heard. And I have a theory why.

In the early '20s and thirties, conditions were different in San Francisco and we had fog . . . fog in capital letters. What San Franciscans have today in comparison is only a mist.

What probably is the reason for the fog being less dense these days as compared to the 1920s and 30s, is that there are more people in City now. Each individual person gives off heat. Each house adds heat to the atmosphere from cooking and lighting and heating the house. Each automobile gives off lots of heat. All the street lights give off heat. Then we have all the large buildings and some factories belching heat. The air being warmer, reduces the fog . Unless one was born and grew up in the area it is hard to imagine how sparse the area was settled. For instance I can remember, that from our little home or 26th and Clement there was not one single structure between 26th Avenue and the Cliff House. Nothing but sand dunes with yellow and blue lupin and gold poppies.

One word about that.
I understand that the burial ceremony of Chinese includes attention to the deceased 's voyage into the next world. And at the time of the burial, food is cooked, on what we now call a barbeque, but permanently installed at the site so that the deceased has sustenance for the long trip into the here-after. After the burial ceremony, at the grave site, the food is left for the spirit of the departed, to pick up and take along with him on his journey. However some of the departed spirits made the journey in a hungry state, because on a couple of occasions, I, watching the goings on from neighboring bushes, saw tramps, derelicts and such type persons, who had been lurking in the bushes, come out and have a fiesta.

Dib, this is what I saw and believe. But before publishing, so that no one is offed by the O'Fewers, you might call the local Chinese Church and see how they feel about it. Your call could only give more credibility to the saga, but would induce a wider reading audience. Who know, you might get info that would lead to more lineage. AND THAT IS WHAT WE NEED.
^^^Document Error^^^&f^^^Document Error^^^Now while I'm making notes, boy, I hope you have a good editor with my spelling
and grammar and punctuation you will need one, by now I'm sure you are understanding how I function. If not, here it is: "Get it dowon paper, even if you, yourself can't read it. Get it down while it's in your mind. Then there's the problem of my typewriter.. . .I used to use it a lot, have written a lot, but over the last three years NOTHING. Its apleasure to get back and oil the machine. If some of the words seem like I'm a drunk, seems that I am. Drunk with possibilities of what our written words can lead to. On word of caution because I see to possibilities~ maybe far and beyond a District Paper. If the O'Fewer chronicles&of o~ San Francisco develops into what I think t:it can, we must be aware, that a story once published in any form, no~ matter how good it is, s~o~stops there If this goes into A Buddy paper. That is the end. Dib, I think you hare latched ont a GREAT IDEA. Publishers
every day give large advance sums to a writer, on the submission of only a "first chapter" and an outline of the writing. I believe YOU have a book in the offing. Believe ne, I have no interest in any 'credit.' I'll write what I can. When we have a few thousand words down, then we should get together for A COUPLE Of WEEKS and set it all in gross order. Then we can submit and call in the experts.

This project smells good to me.

There is no doubt that we were an unusual family. And we lived in a very unusual time.

Our first car.

For many weeks we were talking about, how nice it would be to have a car. Not Mind you none of knew how to drive, or had the slightest idea what made a
car go. We may have been, at the most, in Uncle Den's Model T, once or twice.

But it would be nice to have one .

If we bought one, we decided it would not be a red car. What a decision Absolutely it would not be an open touring car. We read the advertisements day after day. Then one day we say an ad for a car, 'Runs good, only $150.00 So Mom and I, Ed age 14, went down to a garage, best I can say is, 'close to Post & Steiner." The man showed us this gorgeous car. All shiny and RED and an omen touring car. The garage owner said some nice things about the car, which neither Mom nor I understood. And then took us for a short ride. When we got back to the garage , he said, 'well how do you like it?'!. Well what the hell ? Neither one of us had ever been in the front seat of a car before, and probably the only ride we had ever had was in Uncle Dens Ford, as back seat riders. So how did we like it.? For Fetes Sake, just the ride was terrific. . . and to ride in the front seat ? well these days one would not understand .



The Man said come back tomorrow and I'll give you another lesson and give you a drivers license If you can think of any questions, write them down and I will answer them for you.

So we went back the next day with $150.00 and a fist full of questions. The Man took us on another drive and answered all of my questions. Said I was a good driver, made out the forms and gave me a California Drivers License.

About three o'clock Mom and her chauffeur left the garage and drove all the way to 26th and Clement and di not run into anything. The next day we were going to take a little spin, and I found that the gears were stuck in ' first and also reverse.' So we phoned the garage Man. He came out to the hose right away and dis-engaged the gears and showed me how to do it. Seems like this problem was likely to occur if one dilly-dallied in shifting. Shifting had to be a decisive motion. From then on little or no problems in THAT department. But every ever problem that a car can have was experienced in the year to follow. I used to work on the Saxon every afternoon after school in order that SHE be in running condition for Sunday.

Despite weekly cleaning the plugs and filing the points and adjusting the carburetor, this big old hunk of iron lost power. One night after dinner, I mentioned this some friends, the Gillons, who had justed by for a visit. This one question and its elaborated answer was a big influence on my life to follow.



The Gillans were a family that lived on Lake Street between 24th ~ 25th. Ar. Gillan (who I really did not know) years~ Gillan a real nice woman on the large heavy side. The oldest son, who later became an officer in Wells :Fargo Bank. Two daughters and a son my age by the name of Robin.
Anyway on this particular evening Mrs. Gillan and the younger daughter and her boy friend were over for a visit . The boy friend, about twenty five year old, owned a garage at the corner of twenty fifth and California, was also a pilot and owned his own plane. His Name Ed deLarm. A native Indian and I thought the smartest man I had ever known. I explained the problem of "no power" in the car. He advised that I grind and adjust the valves. I had no idea what he was talking about, and said so. So Ed deLarm asked for some paper and a pencil. Mom produced some large sheets of butcher paper, and he went to work making diagrams down to the minutest details of how to get the valves out. Bow to make a few inches of broomstick handles into a 'grinder' and how to get the valves back in the engine, and then how to adjust them.

The next day when I opened the engine and started to take the valves out, being careful to mark everything to back in the same place, I marveled at how he knew where each and every part was and how in was to come out and more importantly, how it was to go back in.

Well the job took more than a week of after school time and a weekend. Then came the time to fire her up. Like a miracle she started and ran like the proverbial Swiss Watch. Ed deLarm was some teacher. I'd have thought of him thousands of times . . . . and thanked him;

The Saxson gave us lots of problems. She was big in body and engine, the engine was an enormous six cylinder International. The cylinders~ were the side of one pound coffee cans. The biggest problem ~was flat tires. Today if one has a flat tire, they call the DA and in a short while the truck comes and puts on the spare. Away you go. . In those days, one got out and go under Find the best place to sit the jack on the s~are to be uneven road surface. Think th~that's easy ? Try it on a 1925 highway of gravel. 'Then struggle to get the tire, which came off the wheel with the rim. Lay the rim and tire down, dis-engage the lock on the split rim and pry the tire off with an old spring leaf and a large screwdriver, all the while being careful to not cause another p~problem by sticking the tools into the inner tube. After the tire has been cried off the rim, the pull the inner tube out and try to find where it is leaking. If the leak is found it has to be patched, either with a cold parch which is just a piece of rubber cemented on over the hole, or with a hot patch, which was mostly a Shaler-patch. This was a piece of rubber placed over the hole in the tube and clamped there with a piece of tine between the clamp and the patch that contain some sulphur. The sulphur was then lighted with a match and the heat generated vulcanized the patch and the tube together When the patch was finally on, the inside of the tire casing was dusted with a talcum powder, and the tube was placed inside~, all the while being careful that no wrinkles or pleats developed in tube ~y~ The casing, tube now inside was then mounted on the split rim, very carefully. The rim spread and the lock lever moved into place. Now we are ready for some air. Where the hell do we get air. Not from a station, we are out in the boon docks. Air comes from the pump stowed under the back seat. Unfortunately no tire pumps that I have ever met work very well . So you pump, not hard, just a little. Then bounce the tire up and down to make out any possible wrinkles in the tube, then back to the 'salt-mines' and pump 'till you are blue in the face Once you turn blue there's a possibility that you have the required fifty pounds pressure. Once there, you put your ear to the tire casing and if your are either lucky or deaf, you will hear no air leaking. I have known this full procedure to be performed thirteen times going over the grade East from Holland. In those days Motoring was Real fun.





Dib - Additions for your page?

In our kitchen where most meals were eaten we nap a very nice looking floor on inlaid aid linoleum A rather pensive floor covering, that was partly paid for by an insurance company at after our second In order to heat the house we had in addition to the kitchen stove, which was going most of the time, we had a Perfection kerosine heater. This was a round sheet metal thing about thirty inches tall and ten inches in diameter, its four short legs supported a one gallon tank at the lower end, which we kept filled with 'coal-oil' or kerosine. Above the tank, was a wick of cotton. The wick was circular, about three inches in diameter and had a large hole in the center. More or less like a donut. This wick could be extended by a screw on the side, to make it longer or shorter. Turned 'up' or long it burned with a bigger flame and thus produced more heat. We had to be careful not to turn it too high as then it would smoke and smell badly. Well one afternoon the perfection heater was on in the dining room, next to the sewing machine close to the doorway to the kitchen. It got turned over, oil spilled all over the floor and a fire started . It could well have burned the entire house, if it we not for the quick action of Mom. She threw the heater into the kitchen, when a second fire started, picked it up a gain, all ablaze , and heaved it out the b back door. Mean while , Dad, who happened to be home, raced down to Clement Street to a store that had a phone to CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT. Almost got run over in his excitement, by a street car. The fire department was there in a flash. The Fire House being only about a block away, up 26th avenue. Its hard to believe what happened next. By then of course Mom had the fire out. But when the Fire Engine stopped almost in front of our house, they could see no smoke
and really did not know which house was involved. One of the firemen jumped off the truck grabbed a bucket of dirty water that was on the sidewalk in front of the Robinson's house , two doors up the hill, then ran up the front steps of the Lonergan's house, between us and the Robinsons, rang the doorbell, did not wait for an answer, just opened the front door and threw the dirty water into their hallway;. 'There was much running around and hollering outside. Inside there was Mom, cool as a cucumber, dusting her scorched hand with Arm ' and Hammer.

This was actually our second fire. When I was about three years of age we had our first. It was Christmas and we had a Tree complete with home-made permanent and lighted with candles. In those days, 1910, no homes yet were supplied with electric current, so candles were commonly used. The stores had for sale, small metal clamps like a clothespin that had a little cup on one. side just the right size to accept a thin candle. Our decorated tree was set on top of the kitchen table, all decorated and candle lit. If I was bug-eyed then imagine my absolute astonishment when Santa appeared all dressed in red, complete with cap and white whiskers. With a Merry Christmas
Christmas and a few 'Ho Ho Hos,' leaned over to distribute- a few gifts Leaned too close to the candle lit tree and the flame leaped to his cotton whiskers, started a small blaze on the tree and table. Quick as a Flash (I noticed) Santa reached under the sink and grabbed a pan filled it water and doused the flames. No real damaged.

The next day I'm asking Mom, "How did Santa know where the pans were?" I had noticed that they were concealed by a small curtain that hung from the bottom of the sink. If I got an answer it has long been forgotten. After all that was eighty three years ago.
Lad continued to play Santa on Christmas Eve for the next twenty years. In th years following 1911 many friends and neighbors joined in on the fun. Santa would roam the avenue gathering up neighbors like the Pied Piper, and our little home would overflow. Since the early 1930s Brian took over the job, in much the same manner, and hasn't missed for over sixty years. Aren't we lucky!


More to add to your page 2
In the early days, ~when there were only the two boy children, we had no bathroom. The was an early model of a Chic Sales out in the back yard and there 'bias a cold water spigot over a sink in the one of two rooms, which was the kitchen. The only other room was the bedroom, later converted to a dining room when the other two rooms were added . 'Then Saturday night came along. Mom would drag out a big round ~galvanized tub. I think they were called wash boilers. Well anyway, the tub was set down in the middle of the kitchen floor and filled with water that had been heated on top of the cast-iron stove. Other days than Saturday we were bathed in the kitchen sink. Well no matter where it took place , the Fewer kids were clean. Oh, I don't mean we didn't get dirty, but we never sat down to eat or went to bed dirty. That little rule was one of the many that has been remembered these many long years.

Eventually a bathroom was added off the kitchen, Actually it was a covered back porch, before it was walled in. It was one step down from the kitchen and was complete with a basin, tub and toilet. The toilet looked much the same as what we know today, but was flushed by pulling a thin chain which opened a valve in a metal lined ~ wooden tank that hung on the wall about six feet off the floor.

The other end of the porch became a small closet size room when twin tubs were hung on a wall. I seem to remember that even today these twin tubs are called laundry-trays. Mom had washed all of clothes in these tubs, stepped out the door to a side porch to hang the clothes out to dry.

In two corners of the porch there were pullies thru which a ropes was strung. At the other end of the yard, probably thirty feet away, here was a pulley on top of a couple of poles . The 'clothes line was also strung thru these pullies and Mom could stand on the porch, clothespin a sheet to the line, pull the line a little over the pullies and make room for another sheet. The line would get old and the wet clothes were heavy. The line would break and our hearts would bleed as we gathered them up off the sand for Mom to do over.

Dib . . down near the bottom of your page ~.

Mom did not go to Hastings. I went to Hastings for more that two years. It was and is today a Law School.
Mom went to Healds, which to this day continues to be an outstanding institution . She studied shorthand and typing, some English and math. As soon as she Graduated she got a job as Legal Secretary in a law office. She kept this job until I came along.

Dib. . . on same page below MORE ABOUT MOM LATER


Dad's name was not Edward, it was Edmund. He was born in .City of Waterford, County
Waterford~probably 1895. Birthdate July 4th. ~Waterford is where the famed
Waterford glass is made.

The reason for Dad being in Stockton shortly after he arrived in this country, is that he had an uncle there. Uncle Phelan, Mary Sanborn's father. I don't remember his first name if l ever heard it. Nor did I ever hear his wife's name She was always called by everyone Auntie Phelan!.

³

Notes for Brian Richard (Child 2)

nickname-Dib entered Navy 4/6/1942

Misc. Notes

" THE FEWERS "

" Remembering the Good Ole Days of San Francisco "
by Dib Fewer

Five Fewer children were born on 26th Avenue near Clement street; all born in the family home at 374 26th Avenue.

Doctor Thompson was the attending physician for all five in the years 1908, 1911, 1913, 1915, 1921. As far as we knew, he was the only doctor in the entire Richmond district. His office was located on the second floor, above a market, at 24th Avenue and Clement street. He was a tireless worker, one of those doctors that make you feel good just by his presence; beside from his hospital visits and office time, he made house calls at anytime of the day or night , (it was rumored that he became one of the owners of the St. Francis Hospital).

MORE ON THE DOCTOR LATER

The Richmond district from Arguello Blvd. , extended out westerly to the beach and Cliff House area. The further one traveled westerly, the more sand dunes one would see, homes appeared sparser as well as paved streets. On 26th Avenue there were a number of vacant lots and dune areas.

The 300 block of 26th Avenue was an unusual block, for it went uphill from Clement street for a half a block and then downhill to California street.

The Richmond District is not flat by any means, being a sand dune area, considerable grading for streets and building development were necessary. Leveling the empty lots for home building, in many cases was accomplished by a team of horses pulling a "Fresno." (A Fresno is a large steel blade) that skims off the high dunes; the horses directed by the driver, pull the scoop around to a low area, the driver lifts the handle, spreading the load of sand).

Repeated trips from the high area to the low one, in time leveled off the property. The more homes that were built, the more the drifting sands were controlled. Nature provided dunegrasses, lupin and other plants for only partial sand control.

The Sea Cliff area was a very large piece of open land along the cliffs and beaches; it was one of the last areas to be developed. In season, it was a sight to behold when the acres and acres of gold and blue lupin were in bloom.

MORE ON SEA CLIFF LATER

The Fewer's modest home was probably built in 1907 by our father, uncles and friends. The bathroom was in the rear of the house , next to the large kitchen. The bathroom had a cast iron tub perched on four legs. The toilet had the typical box tank on the wall , which was activated by pulling the chain
The kitchen was furnished with an unfinished wood table, covered with oil cloth for family meals. The large cast iron wood burning stove produced the best meals and baked goods one could wish for and at the same time heated water for washing, laundry and bathing. We did not have a shower. The firebox in the stove was equiped with water pipes which in turn heated the water for storage in a galvanized tank or boiler, behind the stove. To find out if there was enough hot water for bathing or laundry, all one had to do was to touch the tank and determine the amount of hot water, by how high up the warmth was. Believe you me, that kitchen was quite warm if baking was going on during a warm day.

The dining room was in the middle of the house. If a person was in the kitchen and wanted to leave, he would have to go through the dining room and the front room to get to the front door. The dining room was used mostly for special meals, such as birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas and company. When any of us were "bad" this was the room where we had to go kneel in the corner, as punishment.

The bedroom was next to the dining room and alongside of the front room. I believe there were three beds in it , along with some closet space.

The front room was just a big square room. When one entered the home, it was through the front door from a moderate size porch; I do not remember the front door ever having been locked. A small pot belly stove rested on bricks across the room from the front door. The home never had central heating, but when the little stove was stoked and going good its sides glowed red.

We did have a front yard, just soil, not many plants growing; it was a play area, a place to build "coasters."

MORE ON THE HOUSE LATER

Our Mother May Devine Fewer

Mom came on a ship from Ireland, alone, at the mature age of sixteen. She ventured westerly, after a short stay with her sister in Waterbury, Connecticut.

Her two brothers, Pat and Den preceded her to San Francisco; they and another brother, John, came to this country earlier. Not long after Mom's arrival, the City was demolished by the 1906 earthquake and fire. She and some friends rode a wagon to San Mateo until things cooled down. When life was fairly calm in San Francisco, she returned to take up where she left off. She finished her studies (I believe the school was Hastings), and soon went to work for a Law firm.

MORE ON MOTHER LATER

Our Father Edward Patrick Fewer

Dad also came from Ireland on a ship. Come to think of that, how else could one get here at that time? The first job he worked at , was shoveling gravel off of a "flat car" in Stockton during the hot summer time.

MORE ON FATHER LATER

All five children attended Rochambeau grade school, two blocks away from home. The three story building was an all wood structure having a wide steel fire escape from the top floor to the school yard level. Important directions or announcements were made by members of the faculty from the first landing of the fire escape.

Most of the yard was black pavement , a strip of open ground was left on the 24th Avenue side, the school entrance was an 25th Avenue. The school yard did not have feces; the strip of open ground was a favorite area for playing marbles. Remember roundsies, fudging, steelies, doughbabies , puries? You can can imagine how dusty the pants legs were when it was time to return to class. Another remembrance of Rochambeau was the serving of milk ard buttered white bread during mid morning.

MORE ON SCHOOL LATER

The Richmond and the rest of the City had very heavy fog in those days; during the foggy time of the year, the streets and sidewalks were quite damp, the overhead wires dripped large dope and the street lights ware very dim. If we rode a bicycle just for a few blocks , the clothing ( especially sweaters ) , looked like white frost. Now, the foggy days are fever, the season of fog is shorter and when the fog does come in, it generally "burns" off by mid day.

MORE ON WEATHER LATER

We were fortunate to have a very good "Trolley" transportaion. Streetcars ran on California St., Clement St., Geary Blvd. and Fulton St. The #5 ran along Fulton St. and when there was just a few passengers aboard and not many stops to make , the motorman would open the throttle to full speed and that car would sway and twist lickety split along the rails until you would think the car was going to leave the rails. Thcse who rode the #5 knew it to be the fastest line in the City. Our uncle Pat used to work on the steam train along Fulton, before the electric streetcars came to be. Perhaps, the same rails served both the steam train and the trolley and that was the reason for the unusual swaying of the streetcar on its run.

It seemed that all of the streetcar lines had the same problem of squeaking wheels as they rounded a curve. The high pitch squeal could be heard for blocks. Frequently, one coambuld sea a man with a long spouted oil can, lubricating the rails on the curves with a heavy black oil, eliminating the squeak for a while. By the way, all fares ware 5¢.

Controls on the streetcars were operated by a motorman usually wearing heavy leather gloves. The start and speed controlled by a handle on the control box starting slowly from the first notch and than gently through the following notches to gain speed. During wet weather the motorman could press a button with his foot to release sand on the tracks and give the car better traction The conductor worked on the back end, taking care of the fare box and the transfers. After the passengers boarded the car, the conductor would lean out to make sure he was not missing anyone, then pull the rope that rang "ding ding" , above the motorman, to proceed. One "ding" from the conductor was the signal to stop promptly.

Sometimes when the car was about to start, kids would sneak a ride on the rear "Cow Catcher," which was inn the upright position . The "Cow Catcher " on the front and was always in the down position, preventing pedestrians from winding up under the car during an accident.
Auto mobiles

In those good ole days, one applied for and received a License to Drive which was good for life. Of course they changed that soon after. Car insurance was not required. Accidents were kinda settled on the spot. Gas stations were few and far in between. Gasoline averaged 12 a gallon. Owners usually fixed their own car problems , including punctures and flat tires.

Usually the cars were easily jacked up; taking the casing off the rim was the most difficult of the operation. There were several ways to patch a tube; the patch could be glued on or melted on; both worked well. If the tire had a hole in it, a "boot" should be installed inside the casing, covering over the hole to prevent the tube from coming in contact with the paving; then you installed the repaired tube into the casing, pumped air into it and prayed it would hold the air pressure. If it leaked out you probably had pinched the tube when you put it together... so now you have to go through the whole operation again.

MORE ON AUTO MOBILES LATER

Our dear Mother took three of us to the 1915 Panama Pacific Worlds Fair in the Marina District; most of the Fair was erected on filled ground The Palace of Fine Arts is the only retraining building which was restored and should last another hundred years.

Upon arriving at the Fair by streetcar, our Mother discovered that she had left the baby's food at home. Two of us remained at the Fair, while Mom took streetcars back home for the food and then back to the Fair. One act at the Fair was a motorcycle stunt. This very noisy motorcycle was driven around and around on the inside walls of a structure resembling a very large sewer pipe that was standing on end; also there were stunt flying airplanes over the San Francisco Baby. I believe they took off and landed at Crissy Field. I heard say that San Francisco was the only major city with an airport inside the city limits. We probably had food from the Fair booths, but I do not remember now.

MORE ON MOM LATER

One project assigned to us in Rochambeau school, was to build a clay castle having fortress walls, a moat, etc. I heard of a vein of clay down at " China Beach ", now Phelan Beach; so I filled a couple of buckets and headed home to work on the castle. While working on it, I got woozy and developed a fever. During the night Mom called Dr. Thompson who quickly arrived in his jolly old way. I wound up at San Francisco General Hospital with scarlet fever , for a four day stay; I never did know what mark I got for the castle project.

As kids we always expected "hand me downs ." Never got store bought clothes. We have an enlarged photo of my brother Bob and I, the clothes we are wearing are something, we look like immigrants from Russia (joke). My brother is wearing high button shoes and mine were high top with hooks for the laces. His coat looks like velvet, mine a tweedy looking home hemmed garment.

I remember a few times getting new Keds; they were high top, black made for all sports and uses. It was such a delightful feeling, like you could take off and run forever, ""like Nickademus".

MORE ON KIDS LATER

Our Dad was something. Along with hand me down clothing, he cut our hair , re-soled our shoes with belt leather scraps. Sometimes the tacks did not get bent over enough on the iron last, leaving the points up toward the soles of our feet; we used cardboard to ease up on the ouches, until he got out the ""iron last"" again.

MORE ON DAD LATER

There were the years when most of what you needed came to you. Freed Teller & Freed the coffee and tea merchant came regularly to 26th Avenue in a horse drawn buggy. The horse was tethered with a leather strap with a roundish weight on the pavement One day , while he was getting an order from Mom and the neighbors, my older brother picked me up and put me on the horses back; not being a saddle horse, he bucked me off and as I landed his hind hoof caught me in the ribs and then my forehead contacted the curb. Dr. Thompson stitched the forehead closed.

The Ice Man came several days a week. His horse drawn wagon was enclosed with the back end closed with canvas. The Ice Man wore a leather apron and back of the shoulder piece. He would deliver whole slabs, half or quarter. We hung around his wagon for the chips of ice to suck on.

The Vegetable Man drove a horse and wagon open on both sides. His scales hung from the back of his seat; several neighbors would approach the wagon at the same time, for the usually fresh vegetables.

Peoples Bread came in a truck having metal sides and top. It was the best smelling vehicle, loaded with trays of bread, donuts, coffee cake and so on. ( About twenty years later, my son Brian bought a used panel truck labeled "Peoples Bread'").

The Rag Bottle Sack Man drove a horse drawn slat sided wagon. One could hear him approaching from the California street side of the hill. Truthfully, he bleated just like a goat , he did not pronounce words but everyone knew when he was approaching. Our Mother and he got along famously. She would have her wares ready for him, usually a gunny sack or two of rags , a few bundles of paper and some metal , maybe an old sprig and frame of a bed. He saw her at the garage door and alighted from his wagon.



The conversation went like this: Good morning Main, what have you got there? Good morning, I have just these few .... .Ah lady, ~papers don't bring a thing these days but I could take them off your hands. Not at all.. Now how much will you give me for the rags? The most would be 50¢... And how much for the metal?... Believe me lady, 35¢ would be generous... I appreciate your kindness, now for all of this, you can have it for $1.95....But lady...but...but...In the end Mom won out. Every time the Rag Bottle Sack man came, the bartering was repeated .

The Fish Man drove an enclosed wagon; ice was used to keep his merchandise fresh. He blew a long horn to alert his customers that he was coming. the horn was similar to those that the fans blow for The 49ers.

The garbage trucks had steps from the front seat area op to the open top of the truck; there were no wheels on the garbage cans, each man carried his own collection can hooked on his shoulder. He would carry his can door to door, until he had all he could carry and then walk the load up the stairs and dump it in the truck. They must of had legs of iron in those days.

Street sweeping was done by men pushing hand brooms. The sweepers pushed whatever was on the streets, mostly drifted sand in the outer areas, into piles. A wagon would follow with a crew who scooped the piles in- to the open sides of the wagon. The wagons were designed~ to dump the load out of the bottom, at the dumping site.

All the fire engines were horse drawn. The closest fire house was a block away, on 26th Avenue just south of Geary Blvd.; in fact the Fire House has been remodeled and is still there. Stalls for the horses were close ~the fire engines, the bits, bridles~ and reins were suspended from the rafters in front of the apparatus. When an alarm bell rang, the horses were quickly led into position, the gear then lowered and the horses were buckled up; in a very short time, they were ready to go. The men responded with speed, those on the second floor slid down the brass pole (I believe the brass poles are still being used). The only fire engines I remember were the Hook and ladder and the Steam Engine. This was the most colorful, having a steam engine and stack on the back end. The engine and stack were trimmed in brass. A fire was started -~ in order to develop steam power to pump more water pressure when hooked up to a hydrant.

One bad scene happened at 24th Avenue and Clement Street. The Steam Engine was approaching the corner, the bells were ringing ( they were not equipped with sirens in those days); the horses and engine slammed into the side of a #2 streetcar, killing the two horses and the driver. It was a bloody mess for a nine year old to see.

I do not believe that the Police had prowl cars then. One of the first vehicles they used was the Paddy Wagon, in which they would carry individuals off to the Hokey Pokey. Patrolmen walked their beats in those times.

MORE ON TRUCKING LATER

Things for kids to do, had to be invented or made.

Next door to our home was a very large empty lot. Our older brother rigged up, ( all of us helped ), a Flying Dutchman. It resembled a high Teeter Toter. A heavy 1O'X 1OX 6 long post was buried in a vertical position, leaving the post 4" tall. The post was capped with a piece of tin; then a plank was bolted over the tin, so that the plank could freely turn with a shove. Handles were nailed on each end allowing one or two passengers to sit. Grease was applied to the surface of the tin. Now it was ready.

One or two brave ones could sit on each end and two took their place near the center of the plank. The two shoved and got the Flying Dutchman spinning around, faster and faster. Sometimes it took an effort to remain seated, on occasion a rider would lose his grip and go flying.

A cable and trolley line was another ""plaything"' that we put together. Our porch was much higher than the vacant lot next door; from the porch we fastened a cable that was pulled taught and wrapped around a post down in the lot. The ""car"" to ride had two small wheels that were grooved, at one time, to hold rubber tires,( without tires they fit over the cable); the ""car"" was a platform suspended from the above cable , on the grooved wheels. A rope was used to pull the ""car"' up to the porch where the rider boarded; when it was released it went scooting down the cable. The cable had a sag from the weight of the rider who was able to drag his feet before smacking the anchor for the cable.

The hill we lived on was just right for riding coasters or push- mobiles. Usually wheels were hard to come by; a typical coaster had skate wheels on front. Union Hardware were the skates then; the skates would be taken apart and each half was nailed on the outer ends of a short 2 X 4; another 2 X 4 was rigged with baby buggy wheels, or whatever, for the rear. A board was best to span between the front and back wheels. The front 2X4 was bolted so that it could turn direction by pulling a rope that was fastened to it. As time went on, we made the coasters fancier; a wooden box nailed up in front, made it look like the hood of a car. Stand on brakes helped to save shoe leather; a piece of old carpet made sitting down more comfortable. A tin can opened on one end made a ""headlight"' when nailed to the hood and a short candle was inserted and lit. Later we rigged a wheel for steering the coaster; an old broom handle was inserted through drilled holes in the hood and the ropes for steering were brought up inside the hood and wrapped around the broom handle. Many days we spent riding down the hill or repairing the coasters when needed.

A pump mobile generally consisted of a short 2 X 4 with half a skate nailed on each end; a wooden box fastened to the front end was what steadied the rider while he pushed the apparatus along, using one leg at a time. Years later metal scooters came out with rubber tires, handlebars which helped to steer the scooter; these were store bought.
Kite flying was very popular as there was plenty of room in the sand dunes to launch them; we always made our own, using the thinnest sticks we could find or make. The shape was usually a diamond which took only two sticks; the octagon shape needed three sticks. The paper used was news- paper or butcher paper, rarely did we find tissue or gift wrapping paper; flour and water made good paste. Old rags torn into strips mad the tails. If one of us had a kite that nose dived into the ground and broke a stick, we would run home and made the repairs needed. Some times our rushing did not give the pasting time to dry. On one of these trips to repair, I grabbed an apple on the way out. In my haste, I started biting on the apple as I ran and bit down where a bee was sharing a bite with me; it proceeded to leave his stingers in the back end of my tongue. I promptly lost interest in kites and ran home screaming, of course. Was not able to tell my mother what the problem was, but she soon realized it and removed the stinger.

MORE ON KIDS STUFF LATER

We had various pets over a period of time; the most notable was a female Airdale dog named Peggy, was easy going, good with children, protective by her presence only. She lived a long life on a diet of table scraps. There was not such thing as dog food then or shots, veterinarians, pet licenses etc. She had approximately six litters of pups. As they started to grow we supplemented their diet with pens of broken up bread in milk. When the pan was placed down for them, they just waded into it feet and all, would lap it up and soon looked like they were going to pop, their tummies were so fat.

In the back yard, Dad made a screened-in raise chickens mainly for egg laying. He one time, but I do not know if he was of
area with chicken wire, to brought home a Bantam Rooster any use.

Dad also made a large cage for Canary birds which was kept in the back porch; beside seed they were fed hard boiled eggs. In order to increase the number of his canaries, he converted a typical wire cage into a two story one. We took it to the Sea Cliff, the area with all the beautiful Lupin plants; the top floor of the cage contained one of the birds from home, the down section was left open, having a long thread attached to the gate it. We sat silently about a hundred feet away, waiting for the home bird to sing and attract the wild ones; when they curiously inspected the lower part of the cage, the thread was pulled and the capture was made. Several return visits succeeded in increasing the canary count at home.

NO MORE ON PETS

Things that we did not have include:
An electric refrigerator; we had what they called a cooler, ( a narrow closet with shelves that was vented to the outside).
An electric vacuum carpet cleaner. Our first carpet cleaner was a Bissel. When manually pushed across a carpet or floor, small brushes whirled around and the dirt was 1/2 picked up and deposited in small bins or storage places under the machine.
Electrically powered meat grinder. We had a cast iron hand cranked model used especially for making hash.
Electric beaters, vegetable slicers, etc, all came later. Electric toaster and waffle iron. The toaster , two or four sided, rested on the hot stove for browning bread; the waffle iron was heated the same way. Electric blanket or heating pad. To attempt to warm up the cold sheets, iron lids from the stove top were heated end then wrapped in newspaper and placed between the sheets. All these and many more comforts for the home were slow in coming. SEE WHAT WE DID HAVE

WHAT WE DID HAVE

Electricity
Telephone (one), Bayview 108.; an operator answered and made your connection.
A crystal set radio; homemade by your older brother; wire wrapped around a Quaker Oats round container was the coil for receiving. A clothes washing machine. The tank was copper with corrugated sides with an agitator that looked like a wooden four legged stool hanging upside down. A hand wringer was attached to it.
We probably had more electrical appliances, but can not recall now.

CARS

Our first car was a maroon Saxon touring one. The families chance to travel down The Peninsula for picnics and outings. It was fairly reliable. We all had a hand in washing and polishing it. One polish we used was a mixture of oil and gasoline, the car shone with the application but it picked up dust very soon. One evening our family was divining east on Fulton street out near The Great Highway, the car coughed and sputtered like it was low on gas. Mom was in the front passenger seat and the spout to fill the gas tank jutted out from the dashboard in front of her; she unscrewed the cap, put her mouth to the spout and applied enough of her air to blow the car all the way home.

Our best car in those days was a black (what else), Motel T sedan. It was equipped with Rocky Mountain brakes, special coil springs for easier riding; anyway, it was used more than the Saxon while we had it. . The "T" carried us on annual vacations up the Russian River, like Guernwood Park, Monte Rio, Rio Nido, etc. The highway between Monte Rie and Guernwood Park was very narrow and twisty; one day, a friend took us for a ride in a seven passenger Lexington touring car; it was so long, that frequently the driver had to back up to maneuver the curves; we were on the down side heading for Guernwood when he came around a curve and there in front of us was a "brand new'" model "T" black sedan , laying on its side blocking the narrow dirt road. We helped the driver unload some of his gear and all joined in getting the car right side up. We eventually got back to camp.
More on cars later.

Mom was a great cook, she handled the old wood burning stove without any trouble; she produced many loaves of irish soda bread, muffins, biscuits, cakes and pies. Corn beef and cabbage was one of her specialties, The best part was making hash with hand grinder the next day.

During and after World War I, we had rationing; sugar was one item rationed. Each one of us got his her own glass of sugar, and how it was used during the week was up to the individual. As kids we did not understand what W.W. 1 was all about. We marched in our own little parade on the block with the other kids; someone drew the Kaiser's head and pointed helmet on a fence which we stoned now and then, when we thought about it. Our breakfast usually included hot H.O. mush with milk or if cold cereal, would had to be Corn Flakes.

One evening I was asked to go to the grocers on the corner to get milk. I took my bike (a hand me down), purchased two bottles (qts), 5¢ each; put my purchase in the wire basket hanging on the handle bars. As I was crossing the bumpy street-car tracks, had to hurry as the oncoming car was not slowing down; just my luck, both bottles bounced out of the basket and smashed on the street. Believe it or not, I had to go home for two more nickels. Milk could only be bought out the store in quart bottles, including two inches of cream on top.

There was a time when Mom thought her boys were too thin, so after we came home from school, she would insist that we have chocolate and Graham crackers to build us up. Hot chocolate in those days was made with can milk and Nestle's ground chocolate. I am not sure how long we were on this refreshment, but the whites of our eyes became yellowish, and on the subsequent visit to doctor Thompson, he diagnosed it as Jaundice and ended the chocolate treatment.

More on food LATER

The Market Street Lines, ran streetcars #1 and #2 out Clement street; one line turned over 33rd Avenue and then out Geary to the Car Barn at Sutro Baths, the end of the line. I believe the #2 line turned on 33rd Avenue through the East end of Lincoln Park to the Lands End area. Two way tracks wandered along the steep cliffs of Lands End, also terminating at the Car Barn at Sutro Baths. About half way along that picturesque trip, was an attractive building with verandas for the visitors to stretch and to admire the outstanding views.
Refreshments were available at this stop. Sodas were made with a squirt of syrup and the glass was then filled with plain soda. Coca-Cola and Green .... (?) were amongst the first soft drinks; none of the soft drinks came in cans or bottles. Most of the ice cream parlors served sodas the same way, along with milk-shakes, ice cream-sodas and banana splits, etc. On foggy nights, the Car Barn at the beach end of the lines was the gloomiest, coldest and most uninviting place around. There was another Car Barn on Clement street and 32nd Avenue, now the location of a Safeway supermarket. Streetcars generally were built the same: one entered by the rear of the car, passengers could leave by the front or rear ends. The center of the car had long bench-like seats on each side several brass poles to steady oneself as well as leather straps to hang on while standing. This center section of the car had a sliding door on each end; the sections fore and aft were very drafty as there were no windows, only bars to protect one. Sitting outside could be chilly or on a warm day, very comfortable.
⁶

Notes for Robert Beau (Child 3)

entered Army 6/5/1942

Notes for Helen (Child 5)

First off I have a couple corrections to give and a couple of points I would like to have cleared up

Helen was born in 1921 not 1920, I don't mind being 72 but quit pushing 73 okay okay. Next Helen went to Alamo grammar school not Rochambeau, I went there thru 3rd grade until we moved to 41st Ave. I was eight when we moved there. Wasn't an original part of the house the shack that came from the park area after the earthquake--we remember Mom telling us that! ! ! When did the outhouse go?? I'm sorry I don't remember that one.

I do remember Dad sleeping in the room outside of the kitchen over some other part of the building. Also, the bathroom off the kitchen and the potty. As to how many other rooms there were I draw a blank over that, I do remember when you were sick and quarantined in that bedroom - you stood in the doorway and we stood outside of the doorway. As to what else was in that room . Now to the front room that I have very pleasant memories of with our special Mother. Days when I was not feeling well I can remember her cuddling me up with a blanket and giving me Citrate of Magnesia to drink (I really got a taste for the stuff). I do remember our Mom always got involved in the PTA at our schools and was always there for any good or bad things that we did at school. We could always depend on Mom being there to fix things for us as best she could under all the circumstances

I can remember the Halloween parades on Clement Street that my big brothers and sister marched in, I think I was pulled in a wagon once by you my dear Dib. Am I right or wrong. Seems the dog got to help at that time too. Also after the parades I can remember the cooking of potatoes and whatever over at the Lonergan ' s, what fun that was. I was only the baby but was included anyhoo. In later years I went to one of the brothers for teeth work, Jerry I believe over in the Sunset district

I remember the Weavers, Joveta and Charlie. I remember one time being over there with Gertrude and sitting on their balcony railing felt something crawling on my neck and almost collapsed a big, big (and I mean big one) spider was crawling up from under my dress. Can't stand spiders to this day! I also remember the Blooms, Lou and his wife, one Christmas they took us down to their store (Mom and I) and let me pick out a doll for Christmas. That was sure a big special time for a kid.
Names escape me these days but I remember all the neat ladies our Mom was friends with on the block. Robin, Sallie Grey, Lonergan, and all of these from Mom's memory book, Aunt Rose, Weavers, Harpers, Hills, Johnstons, Wells, LaRue, Janda s, O'Conner's and many more. All our neat relatives on both sides. All the trips by trolley car to visit friends and relatives, long trips but well worth it.

Yes I remember Dr. Thompson and his son Bob that took over the practice. I can well remember having my styes lanced especially when I had more than on in my eyes. Yikes that was uncomfortable. Somewhat like the boils you had dear brother Dib, right!

I can remember the man that came by with the animal pulling the cart and having our pictures taken, I have one of Naomi, Gertrude and I. Also the theater on Clement Street, and later on the Alexendrea on Geary next to the Coffee Cup, also having a shake or chocolate at the Coffee Cup. Mustn't ' t forget the Coliseum. Not sure if I'm jumping the years with these theaters but dates I am not sure of. One thing that stands out loud and clear is the delightfully delicious sweet penny candy store around the corner on Clement. A child's dilemma, having a penny and deciding which one was the best, would last the longest, was the best buy, drool child and I did. I also was allowed in the above days to play dressup with Gertrude and Naomi, big deal for a little gal.

Then there was the incident with PEGGY (I remembered her name brother Dib). I had a brand new Easter dress that MOM had just made for me new patent leather shoes, I was told I looked beautiful, that was before I took Peggy for a walk, wrapped the leash around my wrist and we took off down the hill. Whoops all of a sudden PEGGY saw either a cat or dog across Clement and was in a hurry to get to visit them. Needless to say I held on for dear life(remember the leash was wrapped around my wrist) and went flying down the sidewalk on my stomach. Of course the dress was ruined, as were the shoes and my feelings. My beautiful dress was gone. ( Maureen remembers Gram telling her this one.)

Can ' t remember any particular times with Dad whenever he comes to mind I blank out. Some things are real prominent but don't bear repeating here or anywhere for that matter. Maybe some day I can face that particular time in my life but I shall have to wait for that.

Hope this suffices for now, I will keep trying to dust out the upstairs closet and see if anything comes up.
Something I must find out, you stated that Gram was sixteen when she came over - she told me she was eighteen??? Also two of her brothers went back to Waterbury and picked her up and brought her out here so they could take proper care of her. (Her words) According to Mom & Dad's marriage certificate on the 30th day of October 1908 she was 22yrs and Dad was 23yrs old.
They were married on the 2nd day of November 1907. Walter and Ella Fewer were witnesses.
All for now till I remember more or whatever.
²

Last Modified 11 Oct 1999

Created 5 Nov 1999 by Reunion for Macintosh