One hundred and 20 years ago this week, in the Emanu-El issue of Oct. 17, 1902, the entire first four pages were advertisements — and further ads were liberally sprinkled throughout.
What was being sold ranged from prosaic to extravagant, but each one allows us a peek into the life and times of a San Francisco that would change drastically in a few years when the earthquake of 1906 shuttered many businesses, some for good.
Right in the middle of page 1 is an advertisement for Sperry’s flour, made using a patent roller. Sperry’s was a powerhouse of a company at the time and would have been familiar to anyone who patronized a grocery store. While the flour company had an office in San Francisco, its mill was in Stockton. Founded in 1852, according to the Downtown Stockton website, Sperry’s became the second-largest California milling operation, famous for its “drifted snow” flour.
There were plenty of ads for household goods, but life wasn’t all prosaic. After all, San Francisco’s Jews needed to be entertained, and on page 3 were the theater and opera advertisements, including one for the Orpheum.
There’s an Orpheum theater in San Francisco today, but the ad isn’t for the one on Market Street at Hyde Street; that was built in 1926 and originally called the Pantages. The older Orpheum was a Jewish-owned theater and part of vaudeville’s “Orpheum circuit.”
The circuit was managed by a Jewish immigrant from the Austro-Hungarian empire, Martin Beck, who turned it into the powerhouse vaudeville organization that dominated entertainment for years (he was also the man who put Harry Houdini, another Jewish Hungarian, on big stages, turning him into a superstar).
In 1902, the Orpheum was around 5 years old and located on O’Farrell Street, where, 120 years ago this week, you could see the musical act “Klein, Ott Brothers and Nickerson,” and on the same bill “the Astounding ATHOS FAMILY, Six in Number.” The theater was destroyed in the fire that followed the earthquake and rebuilt at a different location.
After a show you need to eat, no? On the same page there was an advertisement for the Techau Tavern, famous — according to the ad — for its steaks, oysters and ice cream. The “restaurant and family resort” was located on Mason Street in 1902 (post-earthquake it was located on Powell Street).
The New York Public Library collection has a range of menus from the Techau Tavern that make it clear the restaurant positioned itself as an upscale, after-theater joint. The elegant menus show that, besides the oysters, of course, in 1905 you could get a half a fried chicken in cream sauce for 75 cents or, more modestly, a chicken tamale for 25 cents.
Going back to the ordinary for a moment, one of the rare photographic (rather than text only, or engraved) illustrated advertisements in the whole issue is for Conklin Bros. carpets, at 333 Golden Gate Ave. Pictured in a buggy with a pair of mules, a white-bearded man is ready to pick up and deliver carpets for cleaning or repair.
In 1902, automobiles had only started being seen on the streets of the city (and they were controversial machines, considered a menace).
But though things have changed a great deal since then, Conklin carpets still operates in San Francisco today, offering carpets and other floor coverings to the residents of the city just as it did 120 years ago — though not, unfortunately, by way of mules.