Tuesday, May 16, 2023

49ers

(NOTE: An earlier version of this essay dates from 2006.)

Currently, one of my favorite sites is Found Magazine. In the collegial spirit of the Internet, I am starting to post similar items, but only those that land directly in front of my house in the Mission District of San Francisco.

My side of the street -- the west side -- is the recipient of many lost items, courtesy of a wind tunnel that swirls through here much as those that used to cause those legendary pop-ups at old Candlestick Park. This one I am posting tonight came drifting into my front yard the other day. 

The note reads: 

Michelle & Justin:

I am trying to sell my car. I need bus money only to get hom(sic) to Detroit. Michelle this is your moms(sic) car. Do you want it? My food stamps didn't come. I don't want to cause anyone any trouble. I just want to get home!! I'll see you later.

The author shares my original hometown -- Detroit -- which makes his story more poignant to me. But San Francisco is not for everyone. I do hope he gets enough bus money to make it back to the Motor City. 

***

Most of us who live here, in this city perched unsteadily above the San Andreas Fault on the tip of a peninsula that measures almost precisely 7 by 7 miles square come from elsewhere, and have spent many years hearing references to a certain number -- 49. 

But how many of us realize how mathematically perfect this number is for our town? We all know, of course about the Gold Rush that built San Francisco back in 1849, and therefore we probably can guess the origin of the moniker "49ers" that in the present day also refers to our professional football team.

But 49 can convey other qualities as well, one of which is boom or bust. You might even call it the San Francisco Sound. It's our cycle of life here, and we all know it goes with the territory, all 49 square miles of it.

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