ForeverMissed
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His Life

Dad's essay recollecting growing up on the Presidio watching the Golden Gate Bridge's construction

September 20, 2021
I was born in Lettermen General Hospital which is located in the Presidio of San Francisco on January 9th, 1930. My father, Herschell Edwards, was stationed in Fort Winfield Scott (the coastal area of the Presidio) for 21 years in the 6th Coast Artillery. He likely holds the record for being the longest stationed there. He arrived in 1922 at the Presidio until he left for the war in 1943. I lived at the Post until I was 13 when my father was shipped overseas to serve in Africa and went through Africa and Sicily with General Patton’s Army and then into Italy under General Mark Clark. He came home on a hospital ship near the end of the war. After living on the post for 21 years, our family had to move to the city when he was sent overseas.

I also served in the army for two years in 1953-55, in Allied Occupied Germany as part of a regimental combat team guarding the Czechoslovakia border. I was stationed at Straubing, Germany, located on the Danube River.

When born, we lived next to the Presidio’s Crissy Field in what they called the Mine Dock area. One of the mine sweeping ships that placed the mines during WWII under the Golden Gate Bridge to protect against submarines, was called the Slocum. In the Humphrey Bogart film Dark Passage, Bogart drives right by our duplex on Crissy Field. We saw a number of planes that crashed in the bay being towed up the seaplane ramp to the hangers. The winds were very tricky which I think is why they more or less closed the airport around 1936.

My brother and I enjoyed the unique experience of watching the Golden Gate Bridge being built above us from our home on Crissy Field. The. Golden Gate Bridge was “born” on January 5, 1933, a few days before my 3rd birthday, with my brother 5 years old (my brother is 2 years, 2 months and 2 days older than me). When they were building the Golden Gate Bridge, they built two high concrete silos on the beach to supply the concrete for the bridge construction. They hired my grandfather who lived with us to turn on the lights at the top of the silos at night and turn them off in the morning. This included the replacing of burnt out bulbs.It was a hairy experience to climb to the top to replace the bulbs, but something my older brother James and I were itching to do. We were probably 6 and 8 at the time and finally convinced our grandfather to take us up with the admonition to never tell our mother.

My father and grandfather both fished and crabbed alot off of the mine dock, which is where they stored the mines in and outside the bay.We also had all the abalone we wanted, because along the seawall to Fort Point there were large boulders in the bay and they would use a tire iron to pry the abalone off the boulders.

Also that year our duplex on Crissy Field burned down (next door neighbor had a still in his house which blew up) and we had to move to the Lancaster housing area of the Presidio for a short time only because it was located where the current toll plaza was to be built and the bridge opened in May 1937.

Our next home was an old generals house on the hill above the Mine Dock which they had converted into a duplex. It had a sunporch, faced east, and had a beautiful view of the bay. The dirt road leading to it and two other houses is still there but the houses are gone.

After a year or two there, we moved to new duplexes in the Stotzenburg area which is on the western side of the Presidio overlooking the ocean. The homes were located next to four 12” inch gun batteries. Each gun battery had four 12 inch mortars which I guess were obsolete since we played in and around them all the time until the war started. The guns had 20 to 25 foot embankments around them and under the embankments were ammunition and other storage and quarters for the soldiers. Today those areas are used for wine storage, at least partly. Across the road from our houses was part of the Presidio Golf Course, which is still in operation.

When WWII started, they fenced off the gun batteries, made us put up blackout curtains, and had two sentries walking about ten yards behind each other guarding our area. Food and gas (we got 4 gallons per week) were rationed. We also saved anything that would support the war effort, such as the tin foil from our gum wrappers, metal, paper, etc. Both the Presidio and Fort Scott, which anyone could enter before the war, became restricted areas with gate guards etc.

Things I remember:

I'll never forget the broadcast the morning of December 7th, 1941. We were at Playland at the Beach located near the famous Sutro Baths (no longer standing) and Cliffhouse Restaurant at a shooting gallery when an announcement came over the radio for all military personnel to report immediately to their posts. Interestingly, as I remember, they did not during this broadcast mention that Pearl Harbor had been attacked.

When they played Retreat and lowered the flag each night at 5 PM, if you were a soldier and driving on the post, you stopped the car, got out and saluted until Retreat was finished. The bugler would play the two melodies, and sometimes they’d fire a canon. I can remember the song distinctly.

The small fishing and crab boats going out each morning through the golden gate (we called them the putt, putt boats because of the sound of their motors) and their later return. This was especially true when we lived at the mine dock area very close to the beach.

Saturday parades on the parade grounds located within the half circle of the barracks.

My brother and I had jobs as paper boys on the Post, including Letterman General Hospital’s wards filled with soldiers. We’d ride our bikes to deliver papers each afternoon (usually the Call Bulletin, an afternoon paper) all over Fort Scott. On Sunday mornings I delivered and sold the San Francisco Examiner around the post and also sold them in the wards of Letterman General Hospital. Some wards had young men in them whose hair had literally turned white from their harrowing experiences in the war, something we called “shell shocked” at the time.

We eagerly awaited letters from our father overseas serving in Africa and Italy, as my Mom, brother and I were all terrified he could be killed or injured or taken prisoner. And later, when he came home on a hospital ship, he was sent to White Sulfa Springs in Georgia to recuperate. This is where FDR famously spent much of his time to treat his polio. It had been turned into a military hospital during the war.

Our dad, a man of few words, when we asked him what the war was like, he simply said, “War is hell.”

The post was kept clean and the grounds manicured by Army prisoners riding in the back of trucks with a guard carrying a rifle.

On Thanksgiving the families of the soldiers assigned to each barracks were invited to dinner in the mess hall of that barracks.

Early on, there were no movie theaters on the Post, except for a small theatre upstairs in the YMCA. On Sunday nights, if you went to Vespers services, then you would get to see the movie for free. So we boys often went to the Vespers services. Later in the 30s I believe, they added a modern theatre in the Presidio, which has recently been totally renovated. They also added a wartime theatre in Fort Winfield Scott, which we went to often. Before the war, we got the films after they appeared in the public. Once the war started, we got the movies before they went public. The only church before the war was in the Presidio. But after the war started, they built a church in Fort Winfield Scott as well.

My father died in 1951 and my mother 1986. Both are buried in the Presidio Cemetery. My brother James, who died recently in 2017, is one of the last people to be permitted to be buried in the Presidio, alongside my parents. Since he was in the Air Force and served from 46-50, he was given a military funeral.

One of the things that became obvious immediately, was that the nations and people became united and pulled together in an unprecedented, patriotic way. Once the war started, it brought the nation together; uniting the people in the great effort to save our democracy.

-Don Edwards