• Storied: San Francisco

  • By: Jeff Hunt
  • Podcast

Storied: San Francisco

By: Jeff Hunt
  • Summary

  • A weekly podcast about the artists, activists, and small businesses that make San Francisco so special.
    Copyright 2024 Storied: San Francisco
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Episodes
  • Michael "Spike" Krouse/Madron Art Bar, Part 2 (S6E21)
    Aug 20 2024
    Part 2 picks up where we left off in Part 1. Spike shares details of his West Coast road trip, the one where he shopped for a city to move to and possibly lay down roots. It was 1993 and, of all those West Coast cities, San Francisco won. "The energy, the feeling that you belonged, the creative draw," they all contributed to Spike's decision to move to The City. "This is where I wanted to be," he says. He had $600 to his name, which was possible back then. He rented a basement room and got a job at SF Golf Club as a caddie. Spike saw an ad for a creative assistant at an advertising agency in the newspaper, and he got the interview. The other candidates came prepared with portfolios. They were all design-school grads. Not Spike. He brought in painted golf balls and comics. John McDaniels (famous for the well-known "Pardon me, do you have any Grey Poupon?" ads) ran the agency and hired Spike. They bonded over comics, of all things. They became friends in the two years Spike worked for John, and enjoyed (I mean, really enjoyed) lunch together every Friday. Then, in 1995, a New York agency bought the firm and hoped to force John into retirement. They took Spike to lunch and offered him more money and a promotion. But Spike saw how they thought of his mentor, and decided to bail. He took a buyout and went to Paris for a year, where he drew comics and took language classes. He tried to get his comic, Man vs. Woman, syndicated in newspapers. That didn't work out, but it was a learning experience. And so Spike came back to his 4,000-square-foot loft in South of Market, kept the comics going, and got a job bartending at many places all over SF. One of the places he sent his single-panel comics to was The New Yorker. He'd included a bottle of wine in one of his shipments, and that helped him stand out. Spike got an invitation to the magazine's office the next time he was in NYC. Folks at the table that day told him to go experience life, but keep doing comics. One of the things they told him to do was paint. And so, upon his return to The City, Spike picked up a paint brush. Eventually, he started to earn a master's degree in painting from the San Francisco Art Institute (RIP), but never graduated. He made important connections at the school, though, and picked up skills along the way. He kept bartending while going to SFAI. When he stopped going to grad school, he realized that his life had two streams—bars on the one hand, and art on the other. In 1997, his buddy Alex had the idea to take over what was called Jack's, a bar/venue at the corner of Fillmore and Geary. Alex asked Spike to help open the new spot—newly dubbed The Boom Boom Room—and Spike agreed. They started with the gutted shell of a space. They aimed to create a classic Fillmore-style juke joint, a throwback to the incredible legacy of the neighborhood. Folks from the hood brought in photos of old spots, and Alex and Spike did their best to simulate that look and feel. Through his time with Alex opening The Boom Boom Room, Spike started to get to know so many musicians, some of whom play at Madrone to this day. After Boom Boom opened, though, Spike went on to bartend at other spots around town, places like Tunnel Top, Tony Nik's, and Paragon. A new baby, his first kid, was on the way, and he tried to figure out a way to make more money. Managing a place could mean more money, but he also didn't want to manage for anyone else. He wanted to be his own boss. For the next five years, Spike developed a vision of what it could mean to have his own place. Along the way, he'd sometimes stop in at The Owl Tree and chat with the owner. He thought, "I could do a place like this." He mentioned buying the place from Bobby, who owned it. But Bobby wasn't ready. Then Bobby told Spike, "OK, when I'm ready, I'll sell it to you. But I'm not done!" Bobby died a month after that, and so it never happened. Then the spot that would become Madrone became available. Starting in 2004, the Madrone Lounge opened. Spike would come to the hood a lot and liked the place. He knew the original owner, Layla, from their time at SFAI. Spike and I sidetrack just a bit to talk about the history of the building and the space. Built in 1886, it was formerly a pharmacy. That shut down after the 1989 earthquake, and Burger King, who wanted a 30-year lease, wanted to take over. But folks in the immediate area opposed that plan. It was then that Layla got a liquor license and opened Madrone Lounge. Layla ran the place for the first four years, until the day-in, day-out took its toll. And so she began to think about selling the place, but not to just anybody. She wanted the new owner to share a similar vision of what the place could be. Needless to say, that person was none other than Spike Krouse. But it didn't happen overnight. Spike wasn't able to get the money together, but they had talked about the place enough that Layla came to ...
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    35 mins
  • Michael "Spike" Krouse/Madrone Art Bar, Part 1 (S6E21)
    Aug 13 2024
    Michael "Spike" Krouse's arrival on this planet was something of a miracle for his parents. In this episode, get to know the founder of Madrone Art Bar (currently one of my favorite places in San Francisco). Spike's dad, a fighter pilot who flew missions in World War II, was much older than his mom. He flew for the Navy when the U.S. went to war with Korea as well. He ended up stationed in Alameda. When he retired from the Navy, in 1967, he took a job in Las Vegas, where the pay was good and the housing was affordable. His dad was director of operations for a nuclear test site in Nevada. Over the years, he dealt with his share of PTSD, and to cope, started gambling. Spike's mom was born in Paris during the German occupation of that city. Her father was "on a train," meaning he was headed to a concentration camp. He ended up being liberated from Dachau years later, but the experience took a toll on him—mentally, physically, and spiritually. He passed away and his family was devastated. Spike's mom, then an infant, was sent to live in the basements of different churches. Her earliest memory is of Allied troops liberating Paris in 1944. US troops handed out chocolate bars to French kids along the Champs-Elysees. When she was 13, she followed her older brother to Israel. After that, she migrated to Italy, where she was recruited to do TV commercials. With that success, Spike's mom moved back to Paris, where she danced for a living. She got into some movies, also. With that, travel picked up—New York, LA, and eventually, Las Vegas. In Vegas, she ended up doing a one-woman burlesque dancing show. Maybe you can see where this story is headed, but Spike's dad was in the audience at one of these shows. Soon after this, the two headed up to San Francisco and got married. Spike was born about a year later. By his dad, Spike has a half-brother and a half-sister, who was close to his mom in age (his sister has since passed away). But it was his mom's first marriage and Spike was her first, and only, kid. Spike says that the Vegas where he grew up was more like a small town where everyone knew each other. It was nothing like it is today, in other words. Among other activities, Spike and his friends would lock up their bikes and go pool hopping at the various casino resorts back in the 1980s. His family traveled around a bit when Spike was a kid. They visited his aunt and uncle (his mom's siblings) in Paris several times. Because his mom was born in France during German occupation, she hadn't been given citizenship at birth. But in the early 1990s, thanks to a reparations trial, that happened. And it extended down to her offspring and their offspring. Today, Spike's kids enjoy French citizenship, as does he. The family also visited San Francisco, when Spike was around nine or 10. He remembers riding cable cars and going to Fisherman's Wharf. They'd travel places in their pop-top van that was equipped with an RV hookup. They also went to San Diego, where his dad received cancer treatments around the time Spike was 13. In his high school years, he and his friends threw lots of parties, and Spike was the one who made flyers for these shindigs. There'd be illicit boxing matching between rival schools. There'd be kegs, there'd be gambling. He was into New Wave and metal, but his taste was really all over the board. Thanks to his parents, there was jazz at home, Serge Gainsbourg, Edith Piaf. And he'd go to all-ages clubs in Vegas. Spike never really played instruments, though. His talents around music were mostly visually artistic. He played sports—football, baseball, golf. As a kid, he and his friends stole golf balls from a nearby course. His punishment was to hit balls at a driving range for two months. Thanks to this, he got pretty good at the sport. But, especially by the time he went off to college, sports took a backseat to throwing parties. College meant Marquette University in Milwaukee. Spike talks about the art scene in Milwaukee and how much he liked it. His school didn't offer any art degrees, otherwise he would have majored in that. But someone at Milwaukee's art museum had amassed quite a collection of German Expressionist art, and Spike liked to check that out. He says he chose the school partly because it was so far from Las Vegas. He shares the story of a ballroom in Milwaukee that he rolled into looking for work. It was his first foray into the business side of parties. He was only 18, but that was OK back then. He got a job barbacking, and three months in, got promoted to bartender when someone called in sick. There was a Vegas connection to the place—it was part of a money-laundering ring that involved cash from casinos in Nevada. So, in a sense, Spike was right back where he started. Sort of. The place had big-name acts at its upstairs, 2,500-seat venue. Acts like Pearl Jam, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and the up-and-coming Smashing Pumpkins. ...
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    33 mins
  • The Anchor Brewing Union (S6 bonus)
    Aug 6 2024

    Patrick Costello used to work at Anchor Brewing, where he was the production lead for the bottling and keg lines. He was also a member of the Anchor Brewing Union, where he served as a shop steward—essentially the union rep on the floor. Anchor's union was part of Local 6 of the ILWU. But Patrick wasn't exactly born into all of this.

    His mom and dad met at a house party in the Mission in the 1980s. Patrick's dad was stationed in the Presidio and his mom came here from Nicaragua. His dad wouldn't leave his mom alone at this party, or so the story goes. They were married at a church in the Presidio soon after that. (Patrick and his wife recently got married nearby, at Tunnel Tops park.)

    The family moved to Germany shortly after his mom and dad got married. This is where Patrick was born, in fact. They moved back in time for his younger brother to be born in The City. Then they went to Sacramento, where he went to school. After graduation, Patrick made his way back to The Bay, around 2010.

    He worked for a while at Farley's on Potrero Hill, where he met Jerry, a maintenance worker from the nearby brewery. Farley's gave Anchor employees free coffee, and they paid it back with a keg now and then. Patrick loved chatting with the guy. One day, Jerry mentioned that the brewery was opening a bar and that Patrick should apply.

    When he visited, the place was packed, with a line out the door. But the manager told Patrick that they didn't need help. He came back a week later—same thing. Same response. It went on three or four more times before the tap room figured out that they weren't going to get rid of this guy. They'd be better off hiring him.

    He came on as a barback at first and hit the ground running. This was around the time that the Warriors were starting to win, and the place was always packed. Patrick learned fast.

    When COVID hit, all the service jobs disappeared. But folks who ran the brewery brought a lot of the tap room workers over, to help keep them employed and also to keep up with demand. This is how Patrick got into the brewery. A production lead left, and he took over.

    At this point in the recording, we take a step back as Patrick tells the story of how the Anchor Union came about. He says there'd been talk of forming a union for some time before Sapporo took over, because workers felt that management wasn't listening to their demands. When the Japan-based company bought Anchor, they felt it was a good time to try, with a large corporation now in charge.

    At first, the efforts centered around educating employees on what a union means, countering popular misconceptions along the way. The campaign was tough and it took a minute, but they organized and got it done in 2019.

    We do a sidebar on the rebranding of Anchor that happened, something most area beer lovers (including me) were not happy about. Not at all. Union members knew it was coming, but they didn't get into a room during the development stage, and it was too late. Many union members agreed, but they wanted to give it time for the beer-drinking public to decide.

    The reaction was overwhelmingly negative, but ownership doubled down. The union made a statement. But it didn't matter. What was done was done.

    Patrick says that workers felt the closing coming on. Orders had slowed down. There was a brooding feeling in the air. Supply chain issues affecting markets worldwide hit them. Then, in 2023, came the news that Anchor wouldn't be making its famed and beloved annual Christmas Ale. Shortly after that announcement, Anchor would be shut down totally.

    Leading up to that, Patrick says employees found a way to get as much beer made and distributed as humanly possible. Even though he was a brewery guy, Patrick joined bar staff and worked for free the last night that the tap room was open. He says lines were out the door and that the whole thing was bittersweet.

    In May 2024, Chobani yogurt founder and CEO Hamdi Ulukaya bought Anchor. My initial reaction was wondering whether Ulukaya would bring brewery employees, and therefore, the union, back to work. Not only is it the right thing to do, but also, no one knows the product or the equipment better. Ulukaya has said publicly that he wants to do this, but nothing is certain even as of this writing.

    We recorded this podcast at Lucky 13 in Alameda in July 2024.

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    34 mins

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