Audio
Captain Cornelius Sullivan
Transcript
Martini: Interview with Captain Cornelius C. Sullivan, retired of the San Francisco Fire Department, January 23, 1976. Carried out in his home in the Sunset District.
Cornelius: To my oncoming story I wish to state who I am and where I came from. I was born in Bere Island in Bantry Bay, County Cork, Ireland. This island was heavily fortified as a naval and military base and was a closely restricted zone. After graduating from grammar school, I worked as an apprentice at the General Blacksmithing, including horseshoeing.
After receiving my certificate as a journeyman, I immigrated to the United States to the city of Fall River, Massachusetts, where I worked at my trade for some time. After saving sufficient money, I went west to San Francisco shortly after the turn of the century and worked steady at the Horseshoe Trade for the few years where I made my future home in San Francisco. My name is Cornelius C. Sullivan, retired Captain San Francisco Fire Department, from which I retired to take the position of Chief of the Naval facility at Treasure Island at the Navy's request during the war.
The following is the story of my memories of many jobs I held from my arrival in San Francisco to my release from the Navy as Fire Chief at Treasure Island. San Francisco at that time was a great and growing commercial city where all the regular transportation was horse drawn, hence the demand for horseshoeing shops and Horseshoers; we made top pay. I worked steady and saved my pay reasonably well. I attended night classes at the Old Mission High School at 18th and Church Streets, which were destroyed by fire some time later and where the present high school now stands. I was anxious to improve my knowledge and understanding of local people and activities, which I absorbed with pleasure, and which helped me through the years in the future. The native young men and women of the classes made me welcome and accepted me with sincere warmth. On Sundays, I had much time to travel to the parks and beaches, where there was an abundance of fresh air. I longed for the outdoors and traveling to different sections of the city.
Browsing through the main Post Office at 7th and Mission on a Sunday afternoon, I saw an ad for a vacancy on the lifeboat crew at Fort Point Life-Saving Station at the Presidio, in what is now the west end of the present Chrissy Field. I applied and got the job on the crew. My experience in the handling of boats as a boy in my native Ireland served the purpose as I blended in with the crew of fine men, experienced seaman from whom I learned much and which I applied on many occasions during my years of public service. At this station, I learned a lot about the Presidio and its environment, including shipping in and out of the harbor with incidence of great importance, forts and types of arms protecting our gate. From now on I wish to avoid the word "I" as much as possible and use the word "we" for the reason that without the advice, assistance, and good fellowship of the men with whom I worked, could not be accomplished.
We saw ships of every nation enter and leave the harbor and from all ports of the world, which was an education which few experienced. The British, German, French, Holland, Swedish, and Norwegian, all freighters, commonly called tramp steamers, bringing in cargoes of every nature and taking out our products to many parts of the world. Our own ships supplied the ports of faraway places also. The Pacific mills, two ships, The Manchuria and Mongolia sail semi-monthly to the ports of Japan, China, and the Philippines. The Matson Lines sail to many of the Islands of Hawaii. The Spreckled Steamers to Australia and islands of South Pacific
All the above ships were square or four and a half rig so that they could use sail and when winds were favorable, they'll save on coal. The Pacific Coal Steamers sailed to ports from Puget Sound to San Diego, all carried freight and passengers. A fleet of steam schooners, carrying loads of lumber from the great forest of our coast, to Meg’s [inaudible] to Albert lumber docks, where it was processed and made ready for building of our San Francisco. We recall the first Japanese merchant vessels to enter our port, [background horn] they were beautiful vessels, painted white with yellow superstructure and had clipper bows. The officers were British and American temporarily.
There were two serious incidents, which we recall, both sailing vessels with carbs of coal for San Francisco from New Castle, Australia. The ship Shenandoah entering port during a heavy fog grounded on the north edge of Potato Patch. Luckily, the surf was smooth through the effort of the lifeboats and tugs, she was pulled off without serious damage and proceeded in tow to the coal docks. She was an American vessel. A similar case occurred under light conditions, a Bridge of Bark, The Falls of Clyde, while in the doldrums, grounded at Long Beach, which is now called Baker's Beach, on a sandy bottom and was pulled off without injury. We the crew took part in both occasions. The steamer Alameda while clearing for Australia in a daylight proceeding through the gate during a heavy tule fog grounded on the East Reef off Fort Point Seawall. She was pulled off at the next high tide, with slight damage.
Shortly thereafter, a light occurrence came when the British freighter, The Demara, loaded with grain for Liverpool. Lighters came alongside and much of the cargo was unloaded, lightening the vessel. She also was pulled off without serious injury. This occurred at midday and all due to a tule fog, that dense fog, that floats from the Delta out through the gate about 50 feet above waterline. Many of the wrecks occurred at the heads and in the straits during our service at Fort Point Life-Saving Station. The fuel on all vessels those days was coal, oil came later. The fertile valleys of Marin [inaudible 00:10:18] and Inverness whose dairy products, butter, eggs, and vegetables came to the city market, by small vessels operated by gas engines and sail. The crews of those boats were torrid seaman who understood the actions of wind and wave and who took advantage of it all. We, on lookout duty, heard the putt-putt of their motors or the shadow of their sails while making the journey to market.
They always traveled before dawn in order to get to the market in time for the markets' opening. Other vessels on the same ardent, bringing in produce from the Petaluma Valley, using what was then called the Petaluma Slough. They made their regular trips to the city market. The hay scouts from the hay pastures on the river delta and the brick scholars, hauling their cargo from the brickyards at McNear’s Point. All those small vessels were assured of a return cargo of goods and equipment for their farm industry. Two beautiful speedy vessels, The Arrow and The General Frigsby ran regularly from the Ferry Building in San Francisco to the Naval Shipyard at Mare Island and the City of Vallejo in that neighborhood. Carters and cargo, traffic was heavy as this was the then principal means of transportation.
We recall the Norwegian sloop, Gogol, which sailed the northwest passage under the command of the great explorer and navigator, Roland Amiston, with its crew of hardy Northmen, which took three years. She was pulled ashore at the foot of Fulton Street during a gentle surf and placed in the berth in the Golden Gate Park. After years in this position, she was taken back to her native home in Norway. We saw her come in and we saw her leave. Our famous ferry boats bringing the workers to San Francisco offices and trades and delivering them safely there home. The beautiful stern wheeler river boats, were called floating palaces, plying between San Francisco Dockside to Sacramento in whose decks and ballrooms great and happy times were held. All of this, of course, was before motorized traffic. One of the highlights of our tour of duty at the Fort Point Life-Saving Station was the arrival of the Great White Fleet commanded by Admiral Fighting Bob Evans under his flagship, the battleship Connecticut, which led the Armada battleship cruisers torpedo boats and collies and other supply vessels.
This was the greatest Naval fleet ever to enter our bay, up to that time and was indeed a beautiful sight. We recall this happened around May the 12th, 1908. As the fleet sailed up the bay, thousands of vessels of every shape, form were out to bid the Navy welcome. Due to the heavy ferry boat traffic, the fleet took up anchorage in the South Bay of Potrero Shores, and thereafter was called Man of War Row. During our tour of Fort Point we saw, heard, and took part in many things particular to the Presidio and surrounding. All Fort Point which in our time was known as Fort Winfield Scott. The fort was built for the purpose of preventing the entrance of enemy vessels to our harbor. It's in exact facsimile of Fort Sumpter in Chesapeake Bay, where the civil war started and where ironclad ships with auxiliary steam begun. Our fort was built around three sides of a large courtyard, with accommodations for artillery companies to man the guns. The building had three terraces, the first two was stationary gun ports, firing from fixed positions.
While on the top, our roof battlements were guns mounted on tracks, operated in our swivel position to cover the entrance and out towards the heads and down the Bay. And then outside of the court level, we'd located an endless chain lift bucket type, similar to our present day ditch diggers using a crank style operation filled with two crank handles, each handle, two men worked to complete the operation. This was the way cannonballs were taken to the gun. As history tells us, war and merchant ships were wooden-built those days, therefore to sink the enemy, it was arranged to use red hot balls to set fire to the ships. A large furnace was in position close to the chain lift, where the balls were at the white heat, they were placed on the bucket by means of heavy tongs, which was used on its way from the furnace to the guns, thus completing the cycle. When the ball strikes an enemy vessel, it sets it on fire and of course sinks it.
When on beach patrol, we walked around the Fort and many times through the courtyard, talking with the company and members on duty, thus acquiring firsthand knowledge of the functional apparatus. While visiting there a few years ago, we saw no evidence of the furnace or the bucket equipment.
The building was a great work of architectural achievement up to that time, considering the isolation from material. The great artisans and engineers and workers were men of sterling work. The great seawall made up of an arm was chiseled pieces of granite dovetailed together, making a wall, which storm or earthquake didn't crack or budge. Underneath the courtyard there was a large system where water was stored by saving rain water from the watershed type on the roof, using flumes and pipes to the system. The Lighthouse Keeper’s homes were also supplied for a watershed and storage tanks in tandem and gravity.
Our look-out tower was at the extreme south end of the watershed. The watershed was enclosed with a fence of white pickets to keep cattle, grazing on the slope from entering and spoiling the surface. The Lighthouse Keeper’s home… [stammering and correcting]. During our time Captain Brankin was in command of the lighthouse; a bridge connected the lantern housing on the roof of the fort. The cannon balls were used throughout the base for decorated borders for shrubbery and flowers. During the First World War, all were collected and belted over for more essential use, accounting for so few in evidence today.
Martini: Have you been to the Fort in the last couple of years and seen it?
Cornelius: That's the reason I was out there. My daughter and son [inaudible 00:18:52] up me up through there. That's the reason I couldn't see any trace of that lift or the furnace, you know.
Martini: They did tear it out, but they're going to rebuild it.
Cornelius: Are they?
Martini: Yes.
Cornelius: That's good. I'm glad of that.
Martini: They are restoring it.
Cornelius: Otherwise it wouldn't be complete, you know.
Martini: Really?
Cornelius: Yes, they couldn't toss those balls up with the guns.
Martini: A long ways to walk.
Cornelius: On the west slope to the Presidio where large grasslands on which grazed a herd of dairy cows, which supplied milk, butter and so forth to the base, a number of men with farm background cared for the cows, pigs and chickens. The sergeant in charge at that table was William Hoffman, who we knew well. He later married Nelly Rankin, the Lighthouse Keeper's daughter. After serving from the army he worked for the standard oil company at Richmond and progressed well with that company.
During the Philippine insurrection, a regiment of soldiers was beat up on the east side of the parade ground. A young lieutenant was attached to the troop while awaiting transportation to the war zone. His name was Cordell Hull, he afterwards became Secretary of State in Franklin Roosevelt's cabinet. For years this section was called Tennessee Hollow. Have you heard the expression?
Martini: I've heard the name.
Cornelius: Yes. That's who he [crosstalk 00:20:26].
Martini: Don't know too much about him though.
Cornelius: That regiment of Tennessee soldier, Vivian, they were waiting to go to the Philippines, do you see?
Martini: With Cordell Hull?
Cornelius: And Cordell Hull was a young lieutenant there. In passing, we recall another man who later distinguished himself in our country's history. It was Lieutenant Colonel Percy, with the coast artillery, who later with dispatch with the regiment to the Mexican border to prevent Poncho Villa from raiding our border towns.
While occupied at this duty, his home of the Parade Grounds, The Presidio, caught fire and burned down, killing his wife and children. One boy was saved however. This is what this man found on his return from the Mexican expedition. Later he became General in charge of our forces in Europe and was nicknamed, Black Jack Percy. In the event of the weather being rough at the gate and distress calls came in from the heads, our course was all hands walked over to an auxiliary boat house on Long Beach, in which was housed another lifeboat. This often served us well. Later, this station became a nursery when we received at Fort Point a power lifeboat brought around the horn on the deck of a freighter. This was the first power boat on the Pacific Coast. The crew at the station was made up of men from many countries, all excellent seaman, somewhat navigational experience.
Many went out as Officers known as Merchant Marine during the First World War and a few lost their lives on duty. All were cherished friends of ours, we're so happy to know they were part of our young experience. The station was in a sand spit and when arrangements were made for 1915 Fair, it was moved northwest about a quarter a mile to its present location and is now a beautiful Coastguard Station.
Martini: Before the arrival of the power boat, is all rowing?
Cornelius: All rowing, yes.
Martini: Oh my God.
Cornelius: You threw yourself into that ash.
Martini: How many Fortsmen did you have?
Cornelius: There was six on the ore, there was eight men at the crew and one would be on watch duty and the other would be his day off, you see?
Martini: Mm-hmm [affirmative].
Cornelius: The Coast Guard was formed at the beginning of the First World War by bringing together the Revenue Service, the Life-Saving Service and the Lighthouse Service, all three were then called the Coast Guard. Members were transferable from one to the other. We recall some of the revenue cutters, namely the McCallum, Marblehead, and Cheeshin; their home anchorage was in Richardson Bay opposite Sausalito. They were all brigantine-rigged [inaudible 00:23:31] of their tubes of duty on the Alaskan Coast. Sails were used whenever possible, steam only when necessary. To protect our commerce on the coast of China, we, with other countries maintain naval vessels. Ours was called the Delta Patrol, small craft, easily navigable. They usually remained on duty for three years or over. On their return from foreign service on entering our port, they flew what was known as the Homeward Bound Pennant. This pennant flew from the gaff about 20 feet and looked resplendent. They use sail when possible. In those days, we recall a lighthouse on Alcatraz Island and a military barracks housing a company of guards supervising the misdemeanor prisoners held there.
Each weekday about 10:00 A.M. a tugboat took the prisoners to the dock or the Presidio Shore on the north side of the Parade Grounds, where they picked up news and dump carts and where they cleaned and swept the streets and roads at the base. About 4:00 P.M, the tug returned them to the prison. We'd like to mention the pilot boats, beautiful schooners, three we remember The Gracie’s, The Lady Mine and The America. I'm going out to their station, at the light ship during an afternoon, heading into a stiff west wind, they sail beautifully into the wind, tacking and luffing with tight sheets.
Their duties were for pilots to guide foreign and local vessels coming from foreign port into our harbor and to be inspected by the health department of [inaudible 00:25:26]. The red brick barracks and the west side of the Parade Grounds, we were told, were built in conjunction with the old fort and the laying out of the Parade Ground, thus establishing our first Coast Artillery, which took care of all forts along the coast. After the more modern forts which we saw, an actual operation and which the old emplacements are still visible south of the present Toll Plaza.
Cornelius: I’m getting very shaky
Martini: Would you like to take a break?
Cornelius: Can you shut it off?
Martini: Oh, sure.
Cornelius: Ya. I just need…[inaudible, tape scratches] In those emplacements were disappearing rifles. They were maintained in perfect working conditions by a company of engineers called Sappers. Those batteries performed twice each year, in the fall and in the spring, fighting towards a moving target on a barge, on which was erected, a large canvas frame with red painted center. This target was towed by an Army tug through a method of hydraulic and recoiled system, the guns were lifted from the pit, raised rapidly, fired towards the target and disappeared behind the parapet, hence the name disappearing riffle.
The targets were towed across the gate, six miles distant. Other batteries, which we recall are Battery Blakely, with the remains you can see as you travel towards the plaza. It is almost entirely covered by shrubbery also at Fort Miley and Fort Funston. Fort Funston was a monitor battery, Fort Baker was a large cannon on an elevated plateau high above Lime Point Lighthouse. This was Battery Slaughter, which was the highest elevation in the bay. Fort Barry was located north of Point Bonita Lighthouse, and the Life-Saving Station on the Point [Point Bonita] also.
During the Spanish-American War and Philippine Insurrection, we found ourselves with few troops and cargo ships, depending much in foreign vessels. The United States Army transferred service reform. We purchased many British ships, which were conditioned for the service and we recall their names of a few, all were named after Civil War generals. Sherman, Sheridan, Logan, and a large, [inaudible 00:28:22] called the Slocum. The docks were at the foot of Folsom Street, which became an inadequate after few years, so a new series of docks were built on the west shore of Fort Mason and the gas house coal section. Locations have changed again and a new name is given the service. On the east side of Fort Mason was called Black Point Cove. On Angel Island were two lighthouses, one west and one east; also, Fort McDowell with a company of soldiers policing the area. An immigration station was maintained there.
We had immigrants arriving from Asia, which housed during health examination and allowed to enter the country or denied to enter. Neither Angel or Alcatraz islands had any natural water supply, except what could be save by watershed. Consequently, a water boat was in constant use, giving clean domestic water at all time. One man on our crew was George Murray, a third generation San Franciscan who gave us much to learn about the early Presidio. His grandfather, who after the Civil War, under the release from the service with others in lieu of wages, was given a parcel of land with some dairy cattle, in which is what is now called the Marina. His name was Sargent Farley. He, with another soldier named McGull, developed and maintained a dairy farm for some years, giving service to the families in the neighborhood. Those men married and raised families. This area was then and is still called Cow Hollow. [To Martini] Oh, there’s another hollow [referring to previously mentioned Tennessee Hollow].
George Murray joined the San Francisco Fire Department and rose through the ranks to the position of Chief. A night of which comes to mind is the way soldiers and their families may do on the base.
Cornelius: We passed their homes on our way to the lookout duty and became their neighbors. One of the boys went to the academy in New England and became an officer in the Coast Guard. They were all good, hardworking people. The suds water from their wash tubs flowed from the tubs to the beach. This little group was known as Sud-side Road.
Martini: Sudside Road?
Cornelius: Sudside Road, yes.
Martini: I'd never heard that one.
Cornelius: Well, that's one for the book
Martini: I like that. It's beautiful.
Cornelius: After the arrival of the White Fleet, they arrived in port, four first class cruisers, all four stackers, and equipped with torpedo tubes at the bow. Their names were California, South Dakota, Tennessee, and West Virginia, they joined the fleet at Man-o-war Row. Shortly thereafter the Navy began to change from white to battleship gray and to oil instead of coal. One such with the oil burner built in Bere Island, we saw her come through Raccoon Straits heading out to sea. She was painted battleship gray and was an oil burner and was fitted with a nail reel called Marconi. The wires were strong between the mast and the wireless operator was called Sparks. The name of this beautiful Navy supply ship was the Prometheus.
This is one I'll have to put up later. Fort Mason, locally called Black Point, was the headquarters and residence of the commanding General of the Western frontier. On his way to the Presidio office, he was taking on a mule-drawn coach out Lombard street, a driver and footman where his attendants.
Our city showed great reverence and pride in our national and state holidays in those days. On Memorial Day, all business ceased, devoting all to reverence for those who served our country. The Grand Army of the Republic, GAR veterans, regaled in splendor uniforms, paraded from the City Hall to the National Cemetery in the Presidio [tape skips]. The early days, Italian fishermen who, in their small boats, singly operated from the waterfront along the Presidio shore to the old fort, using their oars while trolling, happy and singing in their work. Returning home, they set their lateen sails, still trolling on the way to the early market.
Those fisherman and wives raised families of men and women who, through their hard work and devotion, gave them an education fitting them for positions of trust and importance in some of the highest offices of the country. With credit to themselves and their parents, who through hard work and devotion made it all possible. Other instances of family devotion in other nationalities also covered the same, love of parents and children seem to us as the great and loyal foundation of our country. I believe I've covered the memories as well as I can. Still, now I thought some more.
I have two more pages. That was where I stopped when I was in to see Mrs. Hansen.
While mulling over what I've written, I find I forgot a certain account of early history of a landmark, which was called Harbor View. It was operated by the brothers Hampton. One was a licensed physician. This group of buildings included a hotel and rest complex with rooms fitted with separate bathing facilities, using hot salt water and steam from the Bay by means of their own power plant. All or nearly all visitors were recommended by physicians in the city to take those health-giving baths. Visitors took the exercise from a day to a week, according to their needs. The staff was made up of a group of competent men and women, including nurses. The whole surround was inducive to cheerfulness and their turn to good health. The owners of this facility were men from Bavaria, Germany where they learned firsthand the health guaranteed from health spas. With this knowledge they built, and put into operation, this beautiful compound called Harbor View.
It had an entrance on the bay side, a little wharf where boats could tie up, bringing guests to the spa. A railway running from the Ferry Building called The Union Street Railway routed along the Union Street to a turnable station in the Presidio, close to the Letterman Hospital. A shuttle-car ran along Baker Street, from main lane to Harbor View, bringing visitors and patients to the spa. George Heisey, a member of our crew, was a frequent visitor there. His cousin was a member of the staff. The little railroad car turned on a turnstile for the return trip.
The facility was surrounded by beautiful gardens with well trimmed hedges, making all a thing of beauty. When clearing for the 1915 Fair (San Francisco World’s Fair, the Panama Pacific International Exposition) on this ground, the California Building was erected, a facsimile of the Santa Barbara mission. The gardens were preserved as part of the exposition. On the way down Baker Street on the east side of the road was another beautiful family picnic ground called the Germania Gardens. Great refreshments served at tables, and in the gardens with music and dancing with the fine carriage train. Off the West side of the road was the Chinese Sunken Gardens where Chinese raised various vegetables. This is all preserved as a sunken garden exhibit by the Fair Committee.
The German people as a whole participated in all facets of city government. They were industrious in all buildings, banking, education, and mechanical fields. They maintained hospitals, schools, and gymnasiums. They were a splendid people.
[Pages turning, coughing] We hear from time to time through the media, where some individuals or group suggests, they can find the wreck of the steamer Rio de Janeiro, lost while making port during a heavy fog on the night of February 22nd, 1901. This incident, as told to me, and as entered in the log at the station at Fort Point by the man who reported it at the time, Mark Ellingson, a member of the crew, a fine, retiring, man, a native of Trondheim, Norway. During night patrol from the old Fort, along the rugged coast to the auxiliary board house at Long Beach. On this patrol we carried a lighted lantern and two rockets, like Roman candle type, for signaling purposes. On the return trip he heard voices from beyond the surf. He held, waved his lantern and fired the rocket to get their attention, which he did from a voice in English stating he was in a lifeboat with a number of the crew, all Chinese, from the steamer Rio de Janeiro, which struck by rock, tearing her hull apart, and she slipped into deep water with heavy loss of life.
Mark Ellingson gave this voice, his location and encouragement to hold on while he called for help. He climbed the bluff to the lookout, phoned the station, who in return called the Custom House Marine Exchange and tugboats. The life boat was manned and launched in all haste and proceeded to the ship's lifeboat, where the English speaking person gave the same account. All this was, as always, recorded in the station log. The opinion of those in authority at the time was that the vessel slid into deep water and salvaging was remote. Portions of the top hamper's wreckage was found along the shores, even into the Bay, while the tides, rips and otherwise, the weather could account for. This section of the rugged beach was pictured in the magazine [to Martini] That I was telling you ...
Martini: California Living-
Cornelius: California Living last Sunday. Two years later, the Lighthouse Service erected a tower-like lighthouse on the highest rock with a foghorn. Now it is operated in remote control. In that same year, President McKinley, christened the battleship Ohio, launching at the Union Iron Works in San Francisco. On his return to Washington DC, he was assassinated in Buffalo, New York and Theodore Roosevelt was sworn in as President. Some of my statements may seem incorrect to some, but in essence, as far as my memory serves me, I believe they are correct.
Now, this is what I have here ... This fragmentary story of my memories of the dim past, is a feeble way of stringing together my thoughts as I recall them. Almost all are happy memories in fact. Those men from whom I learned much have all passed into their honorable rewards. One thought I never forgot was the fact that I was in a country which gave me a chance and privilege to work and live with my family with safety and freedom. Hallelujah.
Martini: That's excellent. I like that.
Cornelius: Do you think it has any value?
Martini: I think so. You've touched on in there a whole lot of areas, which, if we don't control, which fascinate us because there's a lot of us, pretty young people, who are really interested in the history of this area.
Cornelius: Well, I still can see that old General leaving Fort Mason with the mules and this beautiful coach, you know, and the driver, a young soldier, a footman sitting at the back.
Martini: Riding after the Presidio?
Cornelius: He was, I forget his name. He was old, the first one I recall was an old Civil War veteran, a General. So you see the way it is?
Martini: When did you sign on? You know what the year was when you started at the Fort Point Station?
Cornelius: I think it was 1907 I believe, I'm not quite sure. You'll notice I've shied clear of exact dates in everything, except just that one where the Great White Fleet came in and I wasn't quite sure of that. But I said, "I believe," as I said they made-
Martini: I believe that is the correct date too, as I mentioned.
Cornelius: I am not sure because my mind is ... See while I was reading how shaky I got? I had to hold myself, you see, that's what I have to be careful of, is anything that agitates me. That's the doctor's orders. But this thing, with the help of that fine lady, Mrs. Hansen, I couldn't help but get down to business and write it as far as my memory serves me, you know.
Martini: Your heart was really in it when you wrote that too.
Cornelius: Oh yes. It all comes back and it just comes rolling over the hill like a fog.
Martini: Sure.
Cornelius: So you live in Daly City?
Martini: I used to live in Daly City. I grew up there and now I live over in Marin County, Sausalito.
Cornelius: Sausalito used to be a beautiful village, like an old country village in my time. And the wonderful picnics we used to have, go over on the ferry boats and go up to Schuetzen Park. That was on the way just before you enter San Rafael, so it's was on the right hand side. The trains would be sidetracked there, it was a German outfit, that ran it. And, boy, did they have entertainment there, they had everything that was good.
Martini: Those Germans could really have good parties.
Cornelius: Yeah, they're fine people, they're fine people.
Martini: Did you ever go on ... there was a little train that ran up to the top of Mount Tamalpais too?
Cornelius: Yes, yes. That's right. That's right. It always went to the level board. The rear wheels were way below the front ones, so it kept it a level.
Martini: Going up the grade. Well, when you were at Fort Point at the Life-Saving Station there, were you transferred ever to any of the other stations [crosstalk 00:16:04]?
Cornelius: Yes.
Martini: You moved around?
Cornelius: I did duty at the station out at the end of the Golden Gate Park, did duty up at Point Bonita, and Point Reyes.
Martini: Were those like temporary basis and everybody operated out of Fort Point, was that like the headquarters?
Cornelius: No, Fort Point had the powered lifeboat. So when it was really too rough, like one time we had a distress call from Duxbury Reef, a ship was wrecked there, and there was heavy loss of life there. I forget her name. And then the Steamer Queen caught fire up outside Point Reyes. So we were able to go with the powered lifeboat. Whereas the pulling boats couldn't make it you see? In fact it would be a waste of time.
Martini: Let me grab something here for a second [tape skips]. He talks about in 1915, the wreck of a steamer Eureka right there at Point Bonita?
Cornelius: Yes. Yes.
Martini: He talks about two men, Al Fisher from on one of the lifeboats and Alex Martin, the Light Keeper, trying to get down to the thing descending by ropes down.
Cornelius: We used to have what they called the breeches buoy. You know, I had a little gun called the Lyle gun, had a little projectile and the lifeline was attached to that. And that was fired over the wreck, it would land over the highest part of the wreck, the intention of it, it didn't always make it. But then if they failed, they'd try again, do you see?
But then the people on board the wreck they had pulled that small line out and attach it was a hawser. They'd make and attach to the hawser. There was a little board telling him what to do. One side was English and the other side was French. They'd make that fast to the highest point, and the people ashore then, they dug a hole and put in what they called ... [pausing to think] it sat on the little car, two heavy pieces of timbers laid together. But they were bound together in the center by a bolt and pull you ... [pausing to think] it was buried in the ground anyhow, in like a cross and then covered up. What's the matter with me, that, that?
And then they had blocks and tackles, and they'd pull on the hawser, so it would lift up off the surf, do you see? Tighten it up. And then they'd send out another set of rope. They'd make that fast, and then one side you pull on it, to pull the breeches buoy out. There was a snatch block that rolled on this hawser, like a wheel and it went out, the other side you'd pull the part in, the breeches buoy in, that's the way they rescued you.
Martini: That must have been a heck of a ride.
Cornelius: Oh. But it was ... the emblem of the Life-Saving Service at that time was a life buoy, an oar and boat hook crossed. I heard the fellow on the television one night telling about, he said it was two oars crossed, but no, it was an oar and a boat hook.
Martini: Seems [inaudible 00:20:40].
Cornelius: Yes.
Martini: Now, Point Bonita Light [lighthouse] is now closed to the public, but I used to be able to go out there and he could walk out and look down that cliff, you can still see the rails and the old sheds, and the old buildings. Those are the only ones left.
Cornelius: Oh, in my time it was solid, but I understand it's been washed away considerable.
Martini: Oh, in some places it's only about five feet wide, the whole Point.
Cornelius: In my time there was a captain at the station there, his name was Nutter, Bill Nutter.
Martini: I have his name down here for-
Cornelius: You have?
Martini: Oh yeah, the book mentions several names. Mmm-hmm [affirmative] Bill Nutter.
Cornelius: At Point Reyes, there was a captain there, his name was Hogan.
Martini: Mmm-hmm [affirmative]
Cornelius: And they were all men, you know, with experience, they was experienced seamen. Have you a name John Cart down there?
Martini: No, I don't. I only have three names down.
Cornelius: John Cart was a German. He was from Hamburg I think.
Martini: John Cart? It mentions Point Bonita must've been a very Godforsaken place before the building of the bridge.
Cornelius: Oh yes it was, it really was. Now, that Slocum that I mentioned, that army transport, that ran from the foot of Folsom street, the old docks, to Point Bonita, it left nine o'clock in the morning and took passengers and other things out and then took the people coming back to the city returning. They went again in the afternoon at four o'clock.
In fact, we had a great interest in the men who formed the Boy Scouts here. They was Raymond Hanson, he was, he lived in Daly city and there was a German by the name of Herman Tiedemann. The two together, they used to bring the groups of boys to the Life-Saving Station. The seamen would show them how to make knots and splices and sew canvas and all that, you see, get the children interested. But those two men, they were very fine men. And we used to take, at times, take trips on the Slocum to Point Bonita and the boys would have their packs and everything, you know, and take trips to Big Lagoon.
They put up there, that's a few miles north of Point Bonita along the coast. There's a road going over the hill, goes down to it now. And then another day's trip would be to Willow's Camp. It's on the way to Bolinas ... Salinas isn't it? Bolinas?
Martini: Bolinas.
Cornelius: Bolinas yeah. And then another day's trip coming back, and they'd be picked up by the Slocum and brought back to the city.
Martini: Nice cooperation.
Cornelius: Oh, as I say, it was wonderful because those little boys, they were so anxious with everything, they always used to ... We used to make, at Big Lagoon, we'd make ... fix up a log, two or three logs together. They were making fires and cooking. Each kid carried a certain supply of food.
And then, in order to tie the logs together, lots of that heavy grass around there, and we'd make the grass ropes,
Martini: Braid your own, huh?
Cornelius: From willows you can make a little thing that you can work like this and make the rope out of grass and pay out the grasses. You'd make it quite a distance. And then you'd secure it at both ends and hold it tight, and swing that around the logs, you know, and keep them together. And then we push it through the surf and the kids would dive off of it in the lagoon. Oh, it was all action.
Martini: Today the Coast Guard, it's almost a branch of the military. Were the old Life-Saving Service and the Lighthouse Service were they considered part of the military too?
Cornelius: No, no, no. Not until the first World War. That was the time it was really brought in, and of course, during war it's under the direction of the Navy.
Martini: Did you stay with it after it became Coast Guard?
Cornelius: No, no, no. I was out of it way before it was ... I was in the Fire Department when it was turned over to the Coast Guard.
Martini: How do you think today's Coast Guard now compares to yours?
Cornelius: Oh, they are wonderful, they're wonderful. Often times we'd say if it was possible that there'd be some way of going out to those wrecks or those vessels in distress out there. Now they have helicopters and wonderful cutters and everything. But look that old power boat. That was the only one on the coast, the first of its kind. Oh, they've made great strides. They're a wonderful organization now. They really are. Every time I read of their work, I feel a little pang of pride.
Martini: Yeah, you were there at the start of it.
Cornelius: Huh?
Martini: You were there back in the early days.
Cornelius: Yes, that's right. We used to have capsize drill, off the foot of Fulton Street. On Tuesday morning, if the weather was anywhere reasonable, if it wasn't raining, and the people would come out and it was all dirt roads along there, there was no Great Highway then.
And the horses would pull the boat out into the surf and turn around and then we'd push it off the carrier and onto the surf and push the boat through the surf and jump in and man the oars and away we go. And the Captain of the station, he had the steering oar, great big sweep, you know. And when we'd be heading in for a big breaker he'd say, "Give way." So all of sudden those oars, and then he'd say, "Oars." You'd dip the handle of the oars down, and the blade would go up, and you'd go through that. And you'd have your leg locked against a brace underneath the top. Otherwise you'd be left up in the air and she'd come down with a bang. And then we'd have capsize drill.
The boats had a bulkhead at either end, do you see? Where the boat, when it was bottom up, it would be riding at those bulkheads, we could look underneath between the gunnel and the water. You could see the people ashore. You could look all around. Sometimes we’d have those lifelines at the side, and bring her over and then all of a sudden he'd say, "Keep going," and we'd go round and round and round.
Martini: Oh, people must have loved that.
Cornelius: Oh, yes. Yes they did. And during my time there, there was a very fine gentlemen. He was the last of the Royal Family of Hawaii. His name was Duke Kahanamoku, I wonder if you ever heard of him?
Martini: Sure. Great swimmer, surfer.
Cornelius: And he lived in a pension from the United States. And he had a man servant, one or two there, taking care of ... the government had a nice little home out, I think it was 45th Avenue, where he lived. And he loved to go through that surf. When we'd be going out, it'd be nothing to look over the side and see him swimming beside us like a seal, you know. Oh, he was a perfect gentleman, mild mannered, big man. And he used to teach us how to take care of ourselves in an undertow. Oh, we learned a lot from that man.
Martini: I'll turn this thing off ... Do you know-
Cornelius: I think it was a [inaudible 00:00:11]. You know, there's so many happy things that it's a continual story, as far as I am concerned. Because all through my life, I happened to be, while I had the faculty of being kind to people. It's no effort to give a man a pat on the back, instead of being grouchy. That's the reason I got along so well, when I was put in that position of Drill Master, where I was training young men coming in. And the older men, they always went along nicely. We used to put on some wonderful demonstrations at the Drill Tower. Sometimes we'd have night drills there and have facilities there, make it appear that we were burning down the building, flames coming out of every window, smoke and then throwing up the ladders and bring you up the lines of hose and all that kind of stuff. And then we had bleachers there. The people would love to come and see those demonstrations.
Martini: On Treasure Island out there?
Cornelius: No, no. This was at the regular Drill Tower. No, we had no demonstrating Treasure Island, because that was war time and most of the time, there was no lights at all in the night. Everything had to be done in complete darkness. [Pausing to think] It was a great experience anyhow. Gee, the last group from any service that we gave instructions to was 28 men and two Sergeants from an airfield in some place in Utah. I forget the name of it.
Martini: No idea.
Cornelius: They were all Black men. They came down to here and we trained them. But of course, each man, one of our own regular men with him and showed him everything that he was to do. But, boy, one day they were trained, they were a [inaudible 00:02:45] men. Why, they didn't know their own strength. And they were willing and agreeable men. That's what I often say. People say, "That kind, the park would be ruined with those." Well, I said, "Don't worry about that."
Martini: Some people.
Cornelius: "They'll be all right when they are trained and they feel their responsibility. They'll be all right, too. Don't worry." But anyway, it was a great experience. You know the way we fix the lighting system to make it appear that the whole thing was burning down?
Martini: No.
Cornelius: We'd have a five-gallon can of water with about a cup full of gasoline floating on the top of it on each floor. Then when the bell would ring, the man attending each floor, he had a kind of a swab there. Do you see?
Martini: Mm-hmm [affirmative].
Cornelius: And he'd light the gasoline. And up would come the flame and, of course, a lot of smoke, and the window's open and fellows crying at the windows to be rescued.
Martini: [Laughing] Real show.
Cornelius: The whole thing, they'd throw up the ladders and then rescue them, carrying down on their backs, and the hose lines coming up. The whole thing was done in precision, you know. It had to be. And then the life nets, men jumping into the life nets. Oh, but it was great. It was great to be a part of it. But the wonderful men we trained, most of them are all retired now. Some of them are Chiefs and so on. And my son, Joe, the youngest boy, when he sees them, what they talk about, "How's your dad? And how's he getting along and all that? What a wonderful time we had when he was training us, when we came in first."
But as I say, they're all happy thoughts.
Martini: I know a man who is the Chief Engineer. I don't know if you know. His name is Linus Cole and he works down at Pump Station Number 2 at Fort Mason.
Cornelius: Oh yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. No, I don't know him. But you know how the Pumping Station came into being?
Martini: I've heard different stories, but [crosstalk 00:05:26]-
Cornelius: That was a part of our high pressure system. The people, through a bond issue, they put through the high pressure system. 11 billion gallons tank on top of Point...
Martini: Twin Peaks?
Cornelius: Twin Peaks. You see how I lose track of myself at times?
Martini: I do it all the time.
Cornelius: No, no, you don't. No, you don't.
Martini: Oh, you'd be surprised.
Cornelius: Anyway, attached to that tank, it's all gravity flow and controlled by valves, you know. But the pressure from the tank at sea level is 320 pounds per square inch, and no group of human beings could hold onto a line of hose with that pressure. So they have reducing valves all in order to control the system. So the people bonded themselves to put through that in order that they'd have a separate system of fighting fire from the domestic system. That's the way that those big hydrants... You see some painted white with a black top and some with a blue top. That gives the pressure at that particular hydrant or that vicinity. And then it can be shut off in districts. You can shut off the whole thing and have it on just one district alone, well in the event that anything would happen by earthquake or otherwise to the system from the Twin Peaks tank.
They built a pumping station at Black Point and a pumping station at Second and Townsend [Second Street and Townsend Street]. Now the one at Second and Townsend [Second Street and Townsend Street], in order for the water to come in from the Bay, they've got a deep well. And from the well out to well below low water was a tunnel. So the water from the bay flowed freely into the big well. Then the pumps could take that water and pumping it into a certain zone. Same way with foot of Van Ness Avenue at Fort Mason. But originally, that building, of course it was built on the government property, but it got the permission to build it there. And of course, their pumps are right on the water. They don't have to build any tunnel to get... But the idea was to develop electricity for Fort Mason. I don't know whether that's still...
Martini: No, we finally got PG&E.
Cornelius: Oh yes.
Martini: But the generators are still there, just in case.
Cornelius: Yes, yes.
Martini: In fact, since The Park Service took over Fort Mason from the Army, we now own a lease on the Pump Station.
Cornelius: Oh, now you know what I'm talking about.
Martini: I've been down there many times. It's fascinating. It's a beautiful place.
Cornelius: So the engineers, they may never use, but they are still there as an auxiliary. It just goes to show you how the people of San Francisco, through the bond issue, prepared for emergencies.
Martini: Prepared for the worst.
Cornelius: Same thing, they've bonded the city to put in Hetch Hetchy system. It took years and years, and finally, it came to be. You see all the beautiful hillsides down along The Peninsula? New groups of homes built there? They could never build those unless they had the water from Hetch Hetchy. Every once in a while on a hillside, you see a big tank? Well, hat's water from the Hetch Hetchy. Otherwise, those developers couldn't build, because they'd have no water. And it's a pity, every once in a while, you'll see where some of them start in and issue a little abuse to San Francisco, the big brother getting it in the neck.
Martini: That's right, from the upstart.
Cornelius: Well, you see, they don't understand. They wouldn't be there unless it was the water from San Francisco. But however, as long as they're happy, that's the main thing. Now I'm keeping you too long.
Martini: Oh, not really. It's just I have to get back and file some stuff. But I want to thank you very much.
Description
Interview with Captain Cornelius Sullivan about his time in the United States Life Saving Service, which later became the United States Coast Guard, while working at Fort Point and Pont Bonita.
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