Volume 170 01-2005 - Telegraph Hill Dwellers

P AGE 8 Issue #170 • Winter 2005TALES OF TELEGRAPH HILLThe Tankby Parker MadduxReturning from a year of postgraduate schoolin Europe in the fall of 1965, I had thoroughlyconsumed my savings; I had nochoice but to go to work. I found a job downtownfor a salary that wouldn’t get a garage for a monthon Telegraph Hill today, but at the time wasenough to rent an apartment on the Hill and evenfurnish it. I headed immediately for Speedy’s to seeif there was anything for rent. Walking upMontgomery Street. I came on an enormous grayapartment building at the corner of Montgomeryand Green with a “For Rent” sign in one of thewindows. I rang the bell, and met the owner, whomI’ll call “Angelica.” She was dressed entirely inblack. Her age was indeterminate (but somewhatnorth of 60), and she had a blaze of white and grayhair as her only adornment. She glared at me as ifI were from the IRS, but, with promises of goodbehavior, I managed to get her to show me theempty apartment. I took it immediately. The rentwas $125 per month, including utilities, and foranother $7.50 I got a garage in the building. Therewas even a view of sorts—by standing on my toesand craning my head to the right I could see to thecliff at the end of Green Street, and a slice ofTreasure Island and the East Bay.I quickly determined that I was the onlyrenter in the entire building (it had 12 or moreapartments). It took several weeks, but I finallygot acquainted sufficiently well with Angelica toask why I was the only tenant. She mumbledsomething non-responsive, but I later pieced theexplanation together — she was widowed, ornever married, and had inherited the building. Iguessed that since her expenses were apparentlyonly her taxes and food (she had no car, andseemed never to go out except to buy groceries),she had no need for more tenants, and havingmore would have just been a bother.So I passed a few months in the building,rarely even spotting Angelica except to pay therent and when she looked out her window to seewho had closed the front door. I rattled aroundthe apartment, but had no reason to take a lookat any of the other floors or apartment hallwaysin the building, since all were abandoned, darkand not very clean. But one day, moved by a spiritof exploration, I set out to walk down my hallwayto the stairs located in the middle of thebuilding, between two sets of six or so apartmentseach. As I rounded the last corner to the staircase,I came upon an astonishing sight. I was onthe middle floor, so the staircase led both upwardand downward from where I stood. At the topthere was a skylight or windows (I don’t rememberexactly now), and in the gloaming I couldmake out a huge, three story high, dark redwoodtank at least 10 feet in diameter smack in themiddle of the stairwell area and reaching from thetop of the building to the bottom. It was so incongruousto find the huge tank that my jaw musthave bounced off the floor. I couldn’t figure outwhat it might be, guessing that it may have heldwater to supply the building, or perhaps for emergencyuse in the event of a fire or earthquake. Atany rate, I was determined to get an explanationfrom Angelica somehow, notwithstanding herreticence about all things.A few days later I ran into Angelica outsideher apartment. I greeted her in a friendly manner,despite her scowl at the inconvenience ofencountering me, and I asked right out about thetank. She at first expressed a bit of anger that Icontinued on next page