Boxer Ali preaches at S.F. mosque
Here is a look at the past. Items have been culled from The Chronicle’s archives of 25, 50, 75 and 100 years ago.
1992
July 2: What appeared to be a simple sale of a San Francisco home has turned into an unusual legal battle as revelations of a suicide have moved the new owners to try to cancel the deal. Wai Kai Yeung and his wife Choi Wan are suing the previous owners for failing to reveal that their son-in-law killed himself in the basement 14 months before the sale. The Yeungs, like some other Chinese people, believe death on any property may bring misfortune to its occupants. They learned about the suicide only after they began renovations. They refuse to have anything to do with the house and are asking a San Francisco Superior Court to revoke the sale and order the sellers to refund the $230,000 purchase price. According to state law, homeowners cannot be held liable if an occupant has died more than three years prior to when they sell their home. The law implies, however, that sellers must disclose that information if it occurred within three years of the transaction.
— Mylene Mangalindan
1967
July 3: Muhammad Ali, a minister of the Black Muslim faith and the former heavyweight-boxing champion of the world, was the preacher at special services yesterday at Muhammad’s Mosque Number 26 in the Fillmore District. Ali, whose name was Cassius Clay before his conversion, drew an overflow crowd to the 1000-seat mosque to hear him speak on the subject, “Accept Your Own and Be Yourself.” The line of persons waiting to get inside stretched from the mosque entrance, at 1745 Fillmore Street, for a full half block to Post Street, half an hour after he was scheduled to begin preaching.
Entrance was further delayed because everyone had to check their belongings at the door and were frisked for weapons by members of the Flower of Islam, the special young men’s unit. As is customary, the men and women entered by separate doors and sat in separate sections of the mosque. Many of the women wore the fulllength white robes and head dresses of their religion. White persons, including newsmen present, were not permitted to enter. Ali is currently appealing his conviction for refusal to cooperate with the draft, which led to the loss of his boxing title. He came to the Bay Area to take part in the convention of the Congress of Racial Equality in Oakland. July 7: The Great Haight-Ashbury Detour will start today, The Municipal Railway has announced. The Haight-Noriega line, number 71, and the Haight-Sunset line, number 72, will be rerouted to avoid congestion in the Haight-Ashbury district caused by hippies, tourists, tourists looking at hippies, hippies looking at tourists, hippies looking at hippies, etc.
1942
July 3: This year’s grand and glorious Fourth must be celebrated without fireworks. State Fire Marshall Lydell Peck issued this warning yesterday, adding that sale and use of fireworks is prohibited in the State because of the war. “Exploding firecrackers afford enemy agents an excellent opportunity to work under protection,” he said, “and with California in the combat zone citizens should realize this is no time to be shooting off fireworks for fun.” Chief Peck said that peace officers in every community will enforce the no-sale, no-use fireworks policy.
1917
July 3: The strangest guest the St. Francis has harbored in many a day arrived yesterday, causing an excited flutter among the guests as he toddled into the lobby. His air was dignified as befitted his 75 years, and he passed by the register with a bored look. His name was Mr. Deep Sea Turtle, and he was led at the end of a rope by Chester A. Doyle, official jokesmith of Honolulu, who is visiting with his friend James Wood, manager of the St. Francis. In lieu of a visiting card, the turtle carried on his back a painted inscription: “To James Wood, San Francisco; from Chester A. Doyle, Nekko, Honolulu.” The American and Hawaiian flags were painted there, Doyle said, to show the turtle’s patriotism. Woods received the strange gift with mixed feelings.
“I’ve never owned a turtle before,” he said. “I don’t know whether to send him up to the roof dog kennels or to the Turkish baths, or to the baggage room. Victor Hirtzler, the chef, settled the question. “Ze turtle belong in ze kitchen,” he said grandly. “I shall prepare one big Honolulu dinner for Mr. Woods and his friends. There shall be clear soup, cream soup, stew, steak turtle a la Newburg, turtle a la Maryland, roast and curry. There will be sufficient for 125 people.” The turtle weighs eighty pounds and its shell will be polished and mounted for Mr. Woods. A curious man wanted to know how turtles are killed. To him Victor explained: “Exactly at sundown you cut his throat. Then you hang him up with his head down and let him bleed, and exactly at sunrise he is dead. The meat? It tastes just like young veal.”