Dart writes this letter after his first foray into San Francisco. He realizes with some dismay how narrow his thinking had become; he was assuming that ‘Frisco and Cleveland were roughly the same size and was awed to learn that SF was approximately three times as large as his hometown.
He writes with his typical eye for detail about the feel of his host city. Even though Market Street, the “main drag” is very wide, it feels crowded and cluttered. There are antiquated trolley cars running steadily in both directions. The streets are crawling with drunken sailors and “easy pick-ups in tight clothing and short skirts.” Pretty girls abound, but none as pretty as a certain girl back east.
“Three streetcar, three bus and two cable car systems, town lousy with USOs and similar servicemen’s clubs, plenty of big movie houses, several legitimate theaters, a couple of opera houses and concert halls, ‘burleycue’ houses with their bawdy ads traveling the streets on open trailers, joints, joints and more joints of every description. Shore patrol very much in evidence directing traffic in place of city cops.” That tumbling, chaotic sentence seems to capture the essence of the city itself.
He continues with “The whole main street looks and sounds like a cross between a dignified business street and an amusement park. Department stores and Bank of America (or California) stand high and stern beside the open-all-night juke joints and ‘front-windowless places’ where doubtful goods are purveyed by doubtful characters barking their wares and displaying souvenirs, slot machines, two-bit photos, orange juice and trinkets, all at devastating prices.” I thought the mention of orange juice was a little odd. Then I wondered if that was a novelty of California before refrigerated shipping enabled the transport of oranges and juice as far east as Ohio. Maybe Dot can shed some light on that.
He expresses a desire to go sightseeing off the main section of town to explore Chinatown, the waterfront and Golden Gate Park.
For now, he will continue trying to catch up on his laundry chores. He reports having great luck using Fitch’s soap to shampoo the yellow cast out of his white stripes.
He sends all his love and remarks that he’s eagerly awaiting the receipt of her first letter (and all the others to follow).
