San Francisco, the War in Vietnam and Anchor Steam Beer

A few weeks back, I was in Wegman’s beer section which is a vast collection of beer and ale and stout from everywhere.  I grabbed a six pack of Anchor Steam Beer brewed for more than a century in San Francisco.  It was beer with a special memory for me.

In August of 1969, my college friends Mike Rosenberg and Larry Kaye and I were halfway through a cross country camping trip.  Mike was going to do a super-senior year, in the fall, Larry had already started teaching biology, but for me this trip was the last page of my youth, with the first page of real life about to open at Chittenango High School in early September.  

We had come from Yosemite into San Francisco.  I can’t remember the exact order of events, so much time having passed, but a very important thing we had to do when we arrived was pick up my close hometown friend Barry at the San Francisco airport.  It was the Vietnam era, and Barry had joined the Air Force and had flown commercial, compliments of the USAF, to California.  The next morning he had to be at an air base, name forgotten, about an hour out of the city.  We had talked in Webster and realized that I might be arriving in SF at the  same time Barry would, and maybe I could pick him up.  Thank goodness, it happened that way.

Barry was on his way to Thailand to work on the jet fighters that were battling in Vietnam.  We got to the airport on time to see Barry coming down to the luggage pickup.  When he saw us, the expression on his face went from acceptance to happiness.  His last night in the U.S. of A. would be spent with a friend.

Now comes the part about the Anchor Steam.  We wandered across the Golden Gate that evening and found ourselves in the little bayside town of Sausalito.  It was once the subject of a song with the forgettable chorus, “Sausalito is the place to go.”  We found a great bar on the main street of the town.  Each table had a chessboard built into the top.  The beer on tap was a local called “Anchor Steam.”  I had a couple, loved it, and never forgot about it.  When I think about “Steam” I am transported back to that night.

Nothing monumental happened.  We drank in the little bar, then drove to the campground/chopped cornfield where we were tenting.  The next morning we drove Barry to the air base, dropped him at the gate, and wished him well.  I was so glad it had worked out.  We were on a trip without itinerary, and yet serendipity brought us together at the right time to see Barry off to war.

We were in San Fran for a few days.  We ate at Fisherman’s Wharf, rode the cable car, went to Giardelli Square, and saw a strip show in the Tenderloin district.  Then we headed south toward Los Angeles a day or two before Charles Manson and friends would begin their gory spree.  We had a great and memorable time in San Francisco.  And the Anchor Steam was great, too.