This is an old article, but every time I read it I can hear my maternal gramp’s voice. A lot of old SF’ers sounded like the cabbie in Dark Passage. Gramps was a cabbie in 1947 too, after coming back from the war and having the first of 3 children before age 25. Workin’ class folks in the Mission and Haight and old money the closer you got to the Bay, with the exception of North Beach, which is where the old Italians played pool, smoked in the little cafes (which used to be on every block) and made the Sacripantina that my grandma would travel across town for. That was SF.

How to talk like a Sampanciscan

Author: Subterraneans

"My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends— It gives a lovely light!" ~E. St. V. M.