Helping Hand to Homeless in San Francisco

Homeless woman eating lunch thanks to Tennessee Grill

Yesterday, I made my semi-monthly trek for a late breakfast at Tennessee Grill. It's an old-fashioned diner complete with counter seating and booths on Taraval Street and 22nd Avenue in San Francisco's Outer Sunset district.

As I was about to enter the restaurant, there was a homeless woman in her 40's or 50's standing outside the restaurant talking to herself. If you've lived in San Francisco long enough, this is a common sight. Most of us, including me, did the usual:  walk past the homeless person and go about your business.

I grabbed a seat at the counter and ordered my favorite, Lou's Special (an egg scramble with corned beef, spinach, onions and mushrooms). A few minutes later, the homeless woman I saw outside was inside the restaurant. She sat at a counter seat near the door, still talking to herself yet wasn't a nuisance or disrupting any customers.

The manager on duty came over shortly afterwards and started talking to her. Within a few minutes, he instructed a waitress to put in a food order for the homeless woman. When I finished my meal, I made a quick run to Walgreens across the street and saw her eating (see above picture). By the time I came out of Walgreens and headed back toward the restaurant to where my car was parked, she was gone. 

I can't remember the last time I saw a restaurant feed a homeless person on their dime. This small, but meaningful and very humane gesture didn't resolve her homelessness, nor did it provide treatment for her disturbed mental state. But it's one less day a homeless person goes hungry. 

Weekend practice

Lincoln High School, San Francisco

Gym Entrance, Lincoln High School

On my way home from errands this morning, I drove past a familiar spot I haven't visited in 20+ years, San Francisco's Abraham Lincoln High School. I stopped, rolled down my car window, shot the above photos, smiled and gave pause to remember my time there.

Lincoln High was where my first organized sports activity in San Francisco began. I played basketball in Lincoln's gym every Saturday morning, from 9 to 12, for about 3 years (1984-1987). Brenda, a former Sharper Image co-worker/fellow hoopster invited me to join her.

After a few months, Brenda stopped coming. I didn't. I became close friends with several of the girls. When the program ended, my friendship with Alice, Ada, Karen and Karyee exceeded well past the years we played basketball together.

Every few months for the next 10 years or so, the five of us would go out to dinner on a Saturday night. We'd pick up dessert, and hangout at one of our places until midnight or so. I'd often come home with a hoarse voice from laughing so hard. The gatherings eventually ended when Alice, Karen and Karyee got married and Ada moved to San Jose.

When my basketball playing days ended, I got back into playing softball. Again, Brenda, now a former co-worker, made the introduction. This resulted in an activity that lasted off and on for about 15 years, much longer than basketball.

My first co-ed team held Saturday morning practices for about 3 years at various softball fields such as Rossi, Glen Park, West Sunset, Jackson, Rolph or McAteer High School. My second co-ed team, Sunday morning practice at Potrero for about 5 years. Then lunch. Always.

Tomorrow, I'll have bowling practice at Classic Bowl with friends from my Wednesday night league. I can't describe it exactly, but I find it serene and comforting to see the same groups of people every week practicing a sport they love as much, if not more, than I do.

The classic NBC-TV series Cheers describes it best:
Music and Lyrics by Gary Portnoy and Judy Hart Angelo

Sometimes you want to go
Where everybody knows your name,
and they're always glad you came...