Water Street's links to S.F. past may ultimately face the wrecking ball
From today’s Chronicle, “Water Street (map) is a blocklong slice of San Francisco that fits together with deceptively ramshackle ease.”
“This hodgepodge shouldn’t be anything special, but it’s an anomaly in this ever-more-affluent city. And an ominous sign suggests that Water Street could begin to evolve into something quite different: yet another piece of the Bay Area rendered dull, where the odd, mysterious nooks are replaced by generic real estate that fills a need but doesn’t stir the imagination. The ominous sign is the one that says “for sale” on the two gray warehouses from 1929 where A. Friscia Seafoods did business from the 1940s until it closed in 2004.”
“Now, the Friscia property is on the market for $2.75 million. A sale is pending. The site is zoned for 40-foot residential, which probably means we’ll see another pastel stucco box like so many others on this end of North Beach that fades into Fisherman’s Wharf.”
“It’s been looked at very seriously by developers. … The city really needs housing,” says Gloria Rogan, the agent handling the property for McGuire Real Estate. She hastens to add, “We have a real profound interest in the quality of whatever happens. … I love Water Street, and I’ve always loved walking down it. It’s a beautiful street.”
“What’s beautiful isn’t the architecture, but the sense that you’ve stepped into a living part of the city with palpable links to the past.”
“Now? Our fast-fading residential boom tipped the balance. There’s a hole in the middle of the block where construction crews are excavating a garage for a 21-unit complex, and a fenced-off lot that signals that another is on the way. The last single-story structure has a demolition permit in the window.”
“And yes, even if Water Street’s buildings stay the same, there will be homogenization and gentrification as today’s owners move on. Telegraph Hill looks much as it did 50 years ago, for instance, but that doesn’t mean you’ll find young would-be artists in the neighborhood — unless they’re on their way to Caffe Trieste.”
“But as long as those settings exist, they remind us of what was. They’re physical shadows of a sort, prodding us to look beyond the present and contemplate how our world came to be. The buildings and landscapes we inherit should not be disposed of lightly or sold to the highest bidder as a matter of routine. Because once they’re gone, they’re gone forever.”
