Go back to Words&Wit pageSAN FRANCISCO, Nov. 7 -- Those of us who covered the East Bay Hills fire remember all too well those who lost their homes and escaped with a few mementos or family pictures. Now we are those people, hold the fire.
In the days before the San Francisco newspaper strike of 1994, some reporters moved out their Rolodexes, files and personal photos. Many did not. For most of us, a strike was unthinkable. Thinking rationally, we thought everyone was too rational to let it happen. Not so.
Herb Caen left his trusty Royal, his phone list and his letters in the building. He had to write his first column for the Free Press longhand. I left everything but my phone-and-date book, my dictionary and my picture taken with the Village People. All that remains is the journalistic equivalent of a landfill.
Almost everyone who is picketing on the sidewalk misses something he or she left in the building. Like those people in the East Bay, they never planned foranything like this to happen.
"My yogurt, I miss my peach yogurt," said Chronicle social columnist Pat Steger. "'It's from Nordstrom. Also, I wish I had my Rolodex."
Also, said Steger, "I really wish I had filled in my last expense account."
Examiner news editor Linda Strean left nothing as rich as peach frozen yogurt for scabs to eat. "I left an old oatmeal bowl with old soup packages and some dusty tea bags."
Unlike many strikers, Examiner writer Craig Marine remembered to take his picture of his kid with him when he left the building for the last time. He also brought out most of his collection of PR freebies -- cups, hats and the like. "All the payola is safe," he said. "The flacks will be glad to hear that."
Chronicle outdoor writer Paul McHugh was genuinely upset about having left his irreplaceable collection of 600 outdoor guidebooks in his office. "I thought it wasn't going to happen," he said. "I have a little angst over those books. I hope people come to their senses."
Lynn Forbes, Examiner food editor, left a most appropriate picture drawn by her child. The picture shows a boss at a desk, connected by wire to Forbes' desk located below her. The boss is yelling Forbes' name.
Out on the streets around the Chronicle and Examiner, there is that same sense of loss of a home as people had in Oakland and Berkeley after the fire. Okay, so it's just the loss of a cubicle, and we're trying to fight our way back. We have the anger and the hurt of the dispossessed.
Mary Kay Mitchell, a graphic artist in the marketing department, said, "I left behind my wedding pictures, which are not replaceable, and all my aspirin and Advil, which I hope doesn't fall into the hands of management."
Let's hope they don't find it. They must need it.
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