Herb Caen, SF Social/Journalism Royalty; When The Chronicle Was King; Caen Influence Big Time; The Magical Column; Three-Dot Love Through Triumph And Tragedy

HERB CAEN, true SF Giant.

A Bay Area treasure.

I grew up both idolizing and admiring Herb Caen.

Early on, when I was a kid in the 70s I couldn't figure out his popularity. I read the Chronicle. I heard the endless line, "did you read Herb Caen?" --an almost everyday occurence. My family, your famly too, probably, gazed the Chronicle to read Herb Caen. What was all the fuss about, I used to think.

Well, for starters, the man could write. And he could write a lot of words almost every day. Yeah, he had lots of helpers, but still, that column was one long read and absolutely fantastic for the most part.

Even so, I had a complex feeling about Mr. Caen. Why was "the kid from Sacamenna" making fun, snide remarks about Oakland all the time? I thought, here's a guy from Sacramento, hardly a cosmopolitan town making derisive comments about my hometown city. I thought it was odd at best. But oh well, as Herb would have said, "What the hell", (and he did).

As I grew up and lived my formulative years in the 70's, a special time in the Bay Area, I then began to appreciate Herb Caen.

He was unique. He could write anything from nostalgia to joy, to wonderment and excitement to tragedy, sadness, and mayhem. We had a lot of that in the 70's in SF--the Moscone/Milk murders; Jonestown; Patty Hearst and the SLA; the Zebra murders; talk about drama. It was non-stop in the Bay Area.

Caen, thank god, could navigate the madness. His writing neutralized the insanity of it all. He'd set the proper tone and be able to create a certain calm within a populace that badly needed a respite from all this chronic bad news emanating right in our own backyard. The Moscone/Milk tragedy was awful enough made even worse coming off Jim Jones and Guyana only a few weeks earlier..

Caen wondered aloud, "if there was a god, why did he allow all this?" --and how could SF recover? It did, and thank goodness for Herb Caen.

Caen was Mr. San Francisco. The social magnet. The column that everyone dreamed of making.

"Hey, I made 'Herb Caen!"--and if you did, it was BIG NEWS! An instant gratification note and boy, talk about EGO building. For the record, I made Caen's column seven times. I'd call his office and it was either Herb picking up the phone himself, or his cool assistant, Carole Vernier, taking down my item and offering a laugh, sometimes forced. I was a mixed bag, (wink).

Caen was prolific and a master wordsmith. Every Friday he'd write about his lunches at John's Grill, say, with Willie Brown, da mayor! Tadich Grill was a regular spot, so too Perry's and Sam's. In fact, a few restaurant--bars especially, worked hard, paid good money to publicists to get in Caen's column, it was that important and damn good for business.

Years ago, I spotted Caen at The North Beach restaurant schmoozing in the back with 49ers' owner Eddie Debartolo and Carmen Policy. Soon, Willie Brown and Ronn Owens showed up. The red wine was flowing and Herb's "vitamin V" (vodka) was hovering in the background. Pass the french bread and get the oysters. When Lorenzo Petroni (the owner) showed up at the table, I was waiting for the Godfather music to commence.

Maestro, cue it up.