You Can Own a Piece of Eternal San Francisco

I don't usually write about houses I'm selling, but I have an upcoming magical listing that, at 118 years old, has more than her share of character and appeal. And if her walls could talk, this eternally enchanting lady would have a thing or two to say about San Francisco’s past and present. 

She sits just below Liberty Hill, a half block from Dolores Park, and only a two-minute walk to the “the Golden Fire Hydrant That Saved San Francisco.”  Said fire hydrant reputedly quelched the fire that ravaged the Mission district during San Francisco’s Great Earthquake and Fire, though that’s not quite the whole story.

On April 18,1906, firefighters and volunteers dynamited (or let burn) the structures on the north side of the 3700 block of 20th Street as a fire break. Rescued from destruction by that intervention and by the nearby “Little Giant” hydrant, the stately homes on the south side remain intact, date back to the late 1800s and are part of the Liberty Hill Historic District. Almost daily, groups of people gather with their tour guides to gawk at those stately facades.

Those tourists often linger to gaze at the opposite side of the street and particularly the beguiling property at 3746 20th Street. She’s a delightful Victorian built in 1907 on the lot made vacant by fire and dynamite in 1906. Today she’s flanked by a couple of handsome multi-unit buildings that were constructed later. Folks are curious about the “little lady” Victorian with the storybook picket fence, because there’s nothing like her in seven square miles. (Come see and you’ll see what I mean.)

In the middle of an ordinary day, I stop in my tracks to realize that she and all those Victorians have stood there for well over a century. They practically loom over pedestrians, like members of a jury. Observing, listening, judging. Vigilant.

After the 1906 quake, the south-side homes watched silently as the Mission rose from the heap of ashes strewn from 20th Street up to Market. They stood by as the train tracks on the block were ripped out and – later – new sewer mains planted and utility poles erected (and, more recently, buried). They’ve outlasted the graves of the Jewish Cemetery that once filled the space that is now Dolores Park.

They’ve repeatedly seen the street repaved and its sidewalk squares torn out and re-poured. They’ve observed hundreds of painting crews changing their neighbors’ colors over the years. They’ve watched the city skyline change and their view of it become obscured by tall trees. 

They’ve endured as San Francisco soldiers marched off to at least six wars. They’ve surveyed crowds of people thronging toward Mission or Market to protest for women’s suffrage, civil rights, gay rights and the saving of our democracy.

The women who’ve slept in their bedrooms have worn corsets and bustles, or miniskirts, or all-leather ensembles and multiple piercings. People from all over the globe have called them "home." Recently, children have grown to adulthood in their rooms, but cannot leave because they can’t afford a place of their own.

Sometimes at twilight, if I squint my eyes just right, I can imagine all the houses are new. It’s the 1890s or the 1910s. There are no cars. There are no hipsters toting 12-packs of PBR to everyone’s favorite park. There are no skateboarders bombing the hill on Dolores. The Great Earthquake is still 15 years away and the California Gold Rush is not so far in the past.

We think we have all the time in the world, but San Francisco's present is constantly becoming its history. Everything – including the venerable Victorians on the 3700 block of 20th Street – will change and – eventually – fade away. But don’t you think it’d be lovely to take shelter NOW in an enduring, time-traveling home like 3746 20th Street?

Call me and I’ll make an introduction! This curious, ever-youthful “painted lady” goes on the market in early April, and she can’t wait to get acquainted with you.