Growing Up in San Francisco
by Bill Roddy
From 1929 to 1936 I lived with my grandfather, Spiro Raicevich, at 332 Herman Street between Fillmore and Steiner; the building in the center.
He owned the building of two small flats, the larger was on the top floor. The lot was only 25 by 100 feet, typical Western Addition San Francisco.
Photo courtesy MisterSF.com
My mother, Ellen, my grandfather and I lived on the top floor and my Aunt Nita, and her brother Uncle George, lived in the downstairs flat. There was a door where the garage is in the picture; we didn't need a garage in the 1930s, as we had no car. My room was above the entrance. The living room has the two windows above the garage.
All of our meals and our activities took place at the upstairs flat. It had three small bedrooms, a living room, a parlor, a kitchen, and a small bathroom with a tub, washbasin and water heater. When you wanted hot water you had to light the gas water heater by hand and wait a long time.
The toilet was in a small room on the back porch, which faced North. The seat was always cold.
The porch also had a laundry tub and a cooler; a box that extended from the house with screens on the sides. We kept milk, eggs and butter in it. San Francisco's fog was our refrigerator.
We spent most of our time in the kitchen. There was a gas stove with a trash burner on the side. It would keep the kitchen warm.
My grandfather sat by the stove in a rocker every night grinding coffee beans in a little oak hand grinder. I'm sure you've seen them in antique stores for a lot of money.
My mother did the cooking which was very plain... no steaks, salads or anything fancy like that. There were a lot of soups, all prepared by hand; cut up vegetables, potatoes and bits of stew beef. Sometimes your whole meal would be lentil soup.
There was also stuffed derma, which you may not have heard of. This was cow intestines stuffed with corn meal and boiled. Sounds terrible, but it was pretty good. We also had stewed tripe; which I liked.
All of the meals had one thing in common. They were cheap.
After dinner the adults would clear the table and play whist, while I would sit in the rocker and read.
Sometimes we went in the parlor to listen to the radio, which was a large RCA Victor model with a phonograph in the top. You would sit around the room and look at the radio. Honest.
We loved Jack Benny and Fred Allen and their famous feud.
The adults would listen to Father Coughlin, a priest who had a tremendous following. He didn't speak about religion, but about how President Roosevelt was ruining the country.
In 1936 I became an altar boy at Sacred Heart Church at Oak and Fillmore. And like everything I did, I went into it full force. In fact, I thought I would become a priest. I was taking drama at Everett Junior High School. In fact, it was my drama class teacher who urged me to become a Catholic. Can you imagine what would happen today if a public school teacher tried to do that!
Anyway in one year, I was baptized, had my first communion, and confirmation.
In my bedroom I had a little crèche with statues of Jesus and the Virgin Mary. I even had lighted votive candles.
When Aunt Nita saw it, she threw a fit and made me take it down.
She was having an affair with a married man at the time, and didn't want any reminders of what the church had in store for her.
Grandpa and the "old country"
