A small percentage of Skid Row residents were from Mexico and other South American countries. Some of the Mexicans came to America to work as farm laborers during WW2 at the request of the U.S. government.

Upon being evicted, some of the Skid Row residents trashed their rooms.

Skid Row hotel room debris.

Except for the ties, most of the clothing here were old and worn. There were newspapers but no books or empty bottles.

Except for newspapers, there were no other reading material or empty bottles in this room. Not all Skid Row residents were alcoholics.

Since the 1930s, the residents on the Skid Row were mainly transient or single males who worked as merchant marines, dockworkers or in the shipyards. In the 1960s, the residents were mostly white male pensioners. In a year or so, this hotel seen here will be demolished to make way for the Yerba Buena Project.

The Salvation Army cared for most of the homeless alcoholics I met on Skid Row at one time or another. There were very few other resources available.

Most of the men I met on Skid Row where white pensioners. Not all were alcoholics.

On Sundays, when weather permitted, the residents gathered at 4th and Howard Streets to socialize and trade goods. Most of the men were dressed well.

This storeowner was not a resident of Skid Row. I remember his as a happy and friendly guy. He enjoyed posing for my photos.

In 1966, the City of San Francisco approved plans for the Yerba Buena project to redevelop the area known as Skid Row since the 1930s. This project was interrupted by lawsuits in the 1970s as community leaders argued against the displacement of cheap housing. In 1970, the area was mainly dilapidated hotels, industrial buildings and open space parking lots.

This guy made his living as a bike messenger.

This parking lot on 4th and Howard Streets served as a Skid Row social gathering spot on weekends if the weather was nice. People would arrive at first light. These gatherings also served as a local trading post.

A rare couple on Skid row.

This parking lot on 4th and Howard Streets served as a Skid Row social gathering spot on weekends if the weather was nice. People would arrive at first light. These gatherings also served as a local trading post.

This is the heart of Skid Row in the early Sunday morning light.

This parking lot served as a Skid Row social gathering spot on weekends if the weather was nice. The atmosphere was friendly and accepting to all comers. The Spanish speaking group tended to gather amongs their own.

These establishments seemed to cater to middle class men. Don’t recall seeing a Skid Row resident hanging out here.

During the winter rain and cold, I occasionally saw the police rounding up the homeless to take them to jail where they were provided with food and shelter. This action is taken place in a Skid Row alley.

This guy lived on Sixth Street. The few times I bumped into him, he was always able to talk me into buying him a beer. He appointed himself as my “guide and bodyguard.”

These buildings being destroyed had a lot of forgotten stories. They certainly played a role in the history of San Francisco.

This American Indian guy is smiling because I just told him I had never met a real Indian before. He didn’t know where Honolulu was, so we’re even.

Loyd in the Mars hotel on 4th and Howard Streets. He was considered crazy by his peers but socially accepted. He recited Robert Frost poems flawlessly. Given the environment, he got everyone’s attention with his performance. After a spontaneous public recital, he would silently disappear as if a switch was activated. He usually kept to himself but would engage in conversation if others initiated the exchange.

The FX Hotel on 3rd St. The history of this area goes back to the 1850s when San Francisco was an important shipping port. But because of the lack of space and rail lines, Oakland is now the dominant shipping center for this area.

View of Third Street from the Yerba Buena Hotel on 3rd and Howard Streets. The history of this area goes back to the 1850s when San Francisco was an important shipping port. But because of the lack of space and rail lines, Oakland has become the dominant shipping center for the area.

During the cold rainy winter months, some of the homeless were clever enough to get themselves arrested by openly shoplifting. In jail they would be provided with meals and a warm place to sleep. The cops were gentle with these guys and violence or resistance was not an issue.

This Skid Row resident was an Army veteran suffering from alcoholism and mental illness. Gordon who had the patience of a saint is counseling him. Gordon often went out into the streets looking for his clients to check on them if they missed their appointments. I accompanied him on a number of those visits.

This Skid Row resident had difficulty understanding the relocation process and unable to take advantage of the limited help the city had to offer. The social workers here were gifted with patience as many of their clients were suffering from mental illness. Many of the guys had lived on Skid Row for years and were reluctant to move out. Skid Row was their home.

The San Francisco Redevelopment Agency provided a local office to aid the residents in their relocation in preparation for the Yerba Buena Redevelopment Project. This office also served as a medical clinic and a warm place to sit out the cold and rain. The residents were always quiet and respectful to the staff and each other to avoid being kicked out.

The courtyard view from the top floor of a Skid Row hotel. At darkness, rats could be heard amongst the debris when darkness came.

In many of these abandoned Skid Row hotels, the rooms were littered with motivational, religious and travel maps.

Most of these letters were from family and friends concerned about this person’s welfare or sharing family news. It was sad to read them given the environment they were found in. This room had no closets. Most of the rooms had no bed sheets or blankets.

The person who lived in this room had his own large refrigerator. The bottle above the bed was for urine. The size of the rooms varied. Many were very small with just enough room for a bed and chair. This photo was shot with a wide-angle lens with my back against the wall.

It was common to find religious, motivational and travel literature in these abandoned Skid Row hotel rooms. These are the remnants of someone’s hope and dreams. I try to keep an open mind on this…on failure and success. Several of the guys told me they were happiest on Skid Row. Why? Because they felt accepted by their peers and didn’t worry about social pressures.

Courtyard view. During WW2, these Skid Row hotels were temporary homes for merchant marine sailors passing through, shipyard and dockworkers. In the 1960s, the tenants were mostly single male pensioners…and lots of rats.

Skid Row hotel lobby. During WW2, these hotels were very busy homes for merchant marine sailors, shipyard and dockworkers. In the 1960s, the tenants were mostly single male pensioners.

Many abandoned hotel doors were chain locked to keep people out. By this time in my young career, I had served as San Francisco Mayor Joe Alito’s campaign photographer. I called him to give me the keys to the building. Things were much simpler then. Today, you need go to thru’ a ton of paper work and certificates of insurance…and then the system turns you down because your request has become politicalized by then.

Many of the discarded letters were from families voicing their concerns and sharing family updates. There were happy letters and sad letters. The residents were eventually evicted from their Skid Row hotel rooms and relocated. The hotels were subsequently demolished to make room for the Yerba Buena Redevelopment Project.

The San Francisco Redevelopment Agency had a small medical clinic in Skid Row. This doctor worked alone and was much appreciated by the patients he cared for.

The San Francisco Redevelopment Agency had a small medical clinic in Skid Row. This doctor worked alone and was much appreciated. The patient is one of the very few young guys I met on Skid Row. He spent a lot of time unselfishly helping the older guys out. It gave him a lot of personal satisfaction.

Gordon, a social worker with the San Francisco Redevelopment Agency interviewing a client. It was a difficult job trying to relocate them and finding employment for those who needed it and were employable. The workload was endless and many of his clients suffered from mental illness and alcoholism. Soon after this picture was taken Gordon got killed when he got by a bus on the way to work.

Social worker with the San Francisco Redevelopment Agency interviewing a client. The workload was endless and many of the clients suffered from mental illness and alcoholism.

Rodney was a homeless alcoholic on Skid Row. The social workers at the Redevelopment Agency helped to clean him up and got him a job as an insurance company clerk. In the background is a building that he used to live in. A few months later, he went back to the streets again. He felt happier living among his friends and the bottle. He said the stress of hiding his alcoholic past from his well meaning co-workers drove him back to drinking.

Gordon with a client on Howard Street near 4th Street. Gordon was one of the good guys. He treated the residents with respect at all times. One of the best gifts you could give on Skid Row was respect. OK, then there’s the bottle.

Gordon, a San Francisco City social worker with a client. This shot taken in the Mars hotel on 4th and Howard Streets. They were discussing relocation options. The Mars hotel was about to be shut down for demolition to make way for the Yerba Buena Project. Essentially, Gordon was tasked with removing people from their cheap homes. Emotionally, he said that was the hardest part of the job.

This is Leonard in the New Start office of the San Francisco Redevelopment Agency. Their purpose was to help the Skid Row residents relocate to make way for the Yerba Buena Redevelopment Project. Leonard, like many others, had mental illness problems along with alcoholism and was very difficult to deal with. Skid Row was a community where the residents accepted each other. Moving on was hard for most of them.

This guy was always helping others out. He’s on a long distance phone call with his mother telling her “everything is great.”

The Drifter at San Francisco General Hospital. After being assigned a room, he had another period of waiting for medical attention. My photography did not seem to bother him. I can be seen in the mirror on the left with his loyal friend patiently waiting.

The Drifter at San Francisco General Hospital. I got no response from him when I asked about his tattoos. He was still suffering from the head wound he received in a street mugging about a week earlier. He didn’t talk much except with his friend, a Skid Row resident.

The Drifter at San Francisco General Hospital. It was cold that day and the hospital was busy. There was no room in the waiting area so the Drifter was placed in the hallway among others waiting for medical care. The hospital was working on the triage system so the wait was long. He never complained.

The Drifter. He never said much. Most everyone liked him. This photo taken at San Francisco General Hospital while waiting for medical treatment. He was in San Francisco for about two days before he was mugged on Skid Row not far from the Greyhound bus station on Third Street.

This photo was taken after an impromptu street meeting. This social worker knew all they guy’s names and where they could be found. She always allowed time to listen to their stories and complaints. I was touched seeing the trust they had in her.

This social worker on Skid Row was highly regarded by the residents. She would go out into the streets to make contact with the residents to help with their housing relocation, personal and health issues. Many of the residents saw her as an angel.

These guys spent a lot of time together. Both were opinionated and resulted in heated arguments. By the next day, they were friendly drinking together and playing cards at night. Grudges lasting long were not an issue.

Gordon, the social worker, is having his client the Drifter get to the hospital via a cab. He needed stiches on his head removed. About a week earlier, he was mugged. The bad guys hit him in the head with a lead pipe. The guy on the left is a Skid Row resident helping out.

I met few blacks on Skid Row in 1969. Many blacks migrated from the south to the San Francisco Bay Area during WW2 to work on the docks loading ships bound for the Pacific War with Japan.

It was normal to see these guys helping each other without having to ask.

He was oblivious to the camera. This shot is not posed. He talked a lot about his youth and the places he’s been. But he never talked about the present or future. This seemed to be common among the Skid Row residents.

Since the 1930s, the residents on the Skid Row were mainly transient or single males who worked as merchant marines, dockworkers or in the shipyards. In the 1960s, the residents were mostly white male pensioners. The homeless were referred to as “bums or winos.”

He talked about the sadness of being lonely but found peace in being left alone. He asked for a picture of himself. I gave him a copy a few days later.

Old Chateau White Port wine was the popular drink on the streets.Since the 1930s, the residents on the Skid Row were mainly transient or single males who worked as merchant marines, dockworkers or in the shipyards. In the 1960s, the residents were mostly white male pensioners. The homeless were referred to as “bums or winos.”

Skid Row hotel room debris. he Bugler brand was popular since the 1930s.

Some of the abandoned Skid Row hotel rooms were littered with years of accumulated trash.

Except for newspapers, there were no other reading material or empty bottles in this room. Not all Skid Row residents were alcoholics.

Almost all of the Skid Row residents originated from somewhere else. I only met one Chinese guy that qualified as a native of San Francisco.

Since the 1930s, the residents on the Skid Row were mainly transient or single males who worked as merchant marines, dockworkers or in the shipyards. In the 1960s, the residents were mostly white male pensioners. In a year or so, this hotel will be demolished to make way for the Yerba Buena Project.

Since the 1930s, the residents on the Skid Row were mainly transient or single males who worked as merchant marines, dockworkers or in the shipyards.

Since the 1930s, the residents on the Skid Row were mainly transient or single males who worked as merchant marines, dockworkers or in the shipyards.

Since the 1930s, the residents on the Skid Row were mainly transient or single males who worked as merchant marines, dockworkers or in the shipyards.

Even during the demolition, homeless people were seeking shelter in the debris at night.

On Sundays, when weather permitted, the residents gathered at 4th and Howard Streets to socialize and trade goods. I saw few evidence of money being used.

On Sundays, when weather permitted, the residents gathered at 4th and Howard Streets to socialize and trade goods. Very seldom was cash exchanged.

On Sundays, when weather permitted, the residents gathered at 4th and Howard Streets to socialize and trade goods. Most men dressed for the occasion.

Pets were rare on Skid Row.

He was reluctant to give details of his past except to say he had good and bad times; and right now, it was bad.

In 1966, the City of San Francisco approved plans for the Yerba Buena project to redevelop the area known as Skid Row since the 1930s. This project was interrupted by lawsuits in the 1970s as community leaders argued against the displacement of cheap housing. In 1970, the area was mainly dilapidated hotels, industrial buildings and open space parking lots.

This kid was alone when I met him. He said it was OK to take his picture. Then he got up and left. I never saw him again.

I try to not make judgments as to good or bad. I do ask myself how and why?

This parking lot on 4th and Howard Streets served as a Skid Row social gathering spot on weekends if the weather was nice. People would arrive at first light. These gatherings also served as a local trading post.

This is the heart of Skid Row in the early Sunday morning light.

This parking lot on 4th and Howard Streets served as a Skid Row social gathering spot on weekends if the weather was nice. People would arrive at first light. These gatherings also served as a local trading post.

One afternoon on 6th Street, this guy comes up to me offering sex with a white girl. I say no but he keeps pestering me. As we pass a bar, he asks to buy him a drink. Now he got my interest. While we’re drinking our beers, he asks if I take family pictures. Here it is.

Gordon on Market St. on the way to his office in Skid Row.

A quiet rainy Sunday on Third Street at Markey.

These people are waiting for a streetcar on Market near Third St.

When this photo was taken, the Eskimo, a retired merchant marine, a homeless alcoholic, was telling me that one-day he would be rich. A few months later, he died in an alley from exposure. About six months later, a Pinkerton investigator called me to help locate the guy. He was hired by his family to notify him that he inherited a large sum of money as a result of the Alaskan oil find.

Photographer Ted Kurihara and friend on Howard Street. I usually dressed up to photograph on Skid Row. I wanted to make it clear that I was there to take pictures and not trying to “melt” in. I thought it to be dishonest dressing down and trying to sneak pictures of people down on their luck.

I found the Skid Row residents very friendly to each other. One guy explained, “He was comfortable on Skid Row because he felt accepted.”

This homeless alcoholic lived in the ruins of the abandoned buildings on Skid Row. He got food from the local Salvation Army Harbor Lights and occasionally would seek shelter there when desperate. The few times I saw him, he was alone.

It sometimes seemed like a loosing battle for the social workers on Skid Row. Because of alcoholism, mental illnesses and lack of supporting resources, this guy had little chance to become productive and self-supporting again. In his younger days, he served in the U.S. Army and later worked various jobs as a laborer.

This is Loyd in the Mars hotel on 4th and Howard. The tattoo reads: Emlee Jean Foster, Love. I couldn’t get him to talk about it. It was too painful for him.

This photo taken in the New Start office of the San Francisco Redevelopment Agency located on Skid Row. Gordon, the social worker, was tasked with helping the local residents find new housing to make way for the Yerba Buena Project. This was a very difficult task as many of his clients were alcoholics or suffering from mental illness problems.

SF Police on Skid Row arresting the homeless. Often, storeowners who complained of loitering or shoplifting initiated the arrest action. Some of the homeless intentionally caused themselves to be arrested in order to find food and shelter in a jail cell during the winter cold and rain.

Skid Row hotel debris. Often times, the hotel residents would simply throw their trash out the window into the light well and in turn escalate the rat problem.

Sharing a bottle was common on Skid Row. In this shot, they are making their friend beg for a drink. Alcoholism up close is nasty. Watching a man beg for his drink as if his life depended on it was crude because his life did depend on that next drink.

This is one of the very few hotel rooms that came with a private bathroom.

The eviction notice. The San Francisco Redevelopment Agency made a humane effort to help with the relocation of the Skid Row tenants to make way for the Yerba Buena Redevelopment Project. It was sad to see the residents evicted from their homes but on the long run, a good idea. By 1970, these were slumlord dwellings with unhealthy conditions such as accumulated debris, rats and unsanitary bathroom facilities due to negligence. An unknown number of the hotel clerks ran loan shark operations and the local thugs regularly preyed on the alcoholics. They knew exactly when and where a certain person would cash their pension checks and soon after, the muggings.

A number of these slumlord Skid Row hotels did not provide anymore than what you see here. The tenants slept with their clothes on for warmth. In San Francisco, the summer can get very cold from the fog. This was one of the cleaner and larger rooms.

This was not an abandoned room. The guy living here said the hotel did not furnish anything except the room as is. The trash is the accumulation from previous tenants. He had been living here for a few days and will stay until his monthly pension runs out. Most of his pension was spent on liquor and food. Occasionally, he would be mugged when drunk on the streets. He slept on the streets until his next pension check arrived or sought shelter at the Salvation Army Harbor Light facility on 4th and Howard Streets. It depended on the weather.

View from the Netherlands hotel on 4th and Howards Streets. A tenant allowed me into his room so I could take this picture. Seconds after I took this shot, he tried to rape me. Fortunately, he had his pants down around his ankles and I got away. I think this was on the 4th floor. I was out of the room and down the flights of stairs and on to the street in less than thirty seconds. As I ran pass the clerk, he yelled at me “no cameras allowed.” After catching my breath, I continued on with my photography. Being naïve counts. I never felt I was in danger. But I don’t think I want to go back into this environment today.

Empty wine bottles were found in almost every room I saw. It was common for homeless people to break into an abandoned hotel to take the mattresses or whatever was useful to them. In most cases, the abandoned hotels were securely locked. I was able to get the keys from city officials to let myself in. I knew Joe Alito, the mayor of San Francisco. I was his campaign photographer. In those days you could call the mayor and personally ask for help. Being naïve about protocols helped.

During WW2, these hotels were very busy homes for merchant marine sailors, shipyard and dockworkers. In the 1960s, the tenants were mostly single male pensioners. This is the lobby of an abandoned hotel scheduled for demolition.

This is the community room in the Mars hotel on 4th and Howard Streets. The front desk clerks in these Skid Row hotels did not allow visitors with cameras. These guys arranged for me to sneak in by distracting the clerk for a few seconds. At that time, the redevelopment of Skid Row was a big political battle. Politicians and advocates were protesting the removal of cheap housing.

The Drifter at San Francisco General Hospital. He finally got a room assigned. His skid row friend was very loyal and stuck with him throughout the whole hospital visit, about 4 hours of mostly waiting.

The Drifter at San Francisco General Hospital. Finally getting attention after a couple of hours of waiting. He’s the last one in the corridor He still has another two hours to go before they get to him. He has a head wound and the stiches need to be removed and the wound cleaned. Never said where he came from except to say he’s “been around.”

The Drifter waiting for medical treatment at San Francisco General Hospital. This guy was unusually quiet. I couldn’t tell if it was his natural personality or because of the head injury that resulted from a mugging.

I met few blacks on Skid Row in 1969. Many blacks migrated from the south to the San Francisco Bay Area during WW2 to work on the docks loading ships bound for the Pacific War with Japan.

This is 4th Street and Howard Streets, considered the heart of Skid Row. The guy in the wheel chair was tough and argumentive but was still cared for by others. It was common to see acts of kindness as normal behavior in their efforts to survive just one more day. I don’t recall having conversations about the future.

He said he came up from the south, the Texas area. He went from city to city by hitching rides as a hobo on freight trains. He liked medium to small towns because people were kinder to guys like him.

I found it hard not to make judgments. I found his room depressing. He was happy to have a room of his own with a warm bed.

This guy argued with everyone but many of the guys gravitated towards him. It was never boring when he was around.

Many of the alcoholics were part-time homeless. When they ran out of their monthy pension money due to heavy drinking or muggings, they got kicked out of their slumlord hotels.

Photographed on Howard and Fourth Streets. The Netherlands Hotel is on the right. Since the 1930s, the residents on the Skid Row were mainly transient or single males who worked as merchant marines, dockworkers or in the shipyards. In the 1960s, the residents were mostly white male pensioners. The homeless were referred to as “bums or winos.”

Since the 1930s, the residents on the Skid Row were mainly transient or single males who worked as merchant marines, dockworkers or in the shipyards. In the 1960s, the residents were mostly white male pensioners. The homeless were referred to as “bums or winos.”

Almost all of the homeless alcoholics I met in this area were suffering from mental illness.

The Mars Hotel on 4th and Howard Streets was in the heart of Skid Row.

The Salvation Army Harbor Light was one of the very few resources for Skid Row residents.

Graffiti on a Skid Row hotel room wall. In most all the Skid Row hotel rooms I visited, there were no decorative art. Just a plain white wall.

This calendar was a rare “wall art” found on a Skid Row hotel room wall. In most cases, there were no decorative art on the walls.

Some of the Skid Row hotel clerks operated as loan sharks to those desperately in need of a drink. These crutches were taken as collateral that were never recovered.

Since the 1930s, the residents on the Skid Row were mainly transient or single males who worked as merchant marines, dockworkers or in the shipyards. In the 1960s, most residents here were single white male pensioners.

He was proud of his coat and wanted to show it to me. In spite of their fate, many were conscious of being respected by others. Some begged for money on Market Street because they felt “accepted.” But they wouldn’t venture into the Union Square area because of the “way people looked at you.”

View of Howard Street from the Mars Hotel on 4th and Howard Streets. This area was considered the central area of the Skid Row that dates back to the 1930s. On the right is the Netherlands Hotel.

Signs like theses were typical in the Skid Row hotels

Since the 1930s, the residents on the Skid Row were mainly transient or single males who worked as merchant marines, dockworkers or in the shipyards. In the 1960s, the residents were mostly white male pensioners. In a year or so, this scene here will be demolished to make way for the Yerba Buena Project.

The Salvation Army cared for most of the homeless alcoholics I met on Skid Row at one time or another. There were very few other resources available.

Few resources were available to the residents of Skid Row in the 1960-70s. Alcoholics like this guy were easy prey for muggers. They get drunk after receiving their monthly pension check then mugged. Having no money for their hotel room, they get kicked out into the streets until their next pension check. Most muggings were not violent. The victim was just too drunk to put up any resistance.

This gentleman dressed well even in the privacy of his own room. He said he was involved in the academic field in his younger days.

On Sundays, when weather permitted, the residents gathered at 4th and Howard Streets to socialize and trade goods. Very few cash exchanged hands, It was mostly trade.

On Sundays, when weather permitted, the residents gathered at 4th and Howard Streets to socialize and trade goods. Very few cash exchanged hands, It was mostly trade.

Most of the men I met on Skid Row where white pensioners.

On Sundays, when weather permitted, the residents gathered at 4th and Howard Streets to socialize and trade goods. Very few cash exchanged hands, It was mostly trade.

Photographer Ted Kurihara and storeowner. He planned to retire when forced to move out. He was not a resident of Skid Row.

There was a small group of Spanish speaking Skid Row residents mostly from Mexico. Most all Skid Row residents did not venture out of the area. One guy explained that he felt humiliated by the way people looked at him when he ventured out to Union Square to beg for money. On Skid Row, all were accepted socially.

There was a small group of Spanish speaking Skid Row residents mostly from Mexico. Most all Skid Row residents did not venture out of the area. One guy explained that he felt humiliated by the way people looked at him when he ventured out to Union Square to beg for money. On Skid Row, all were accepted socially.

This guy worked as a messenger. His bike was his prized possession and livelihood

This parking lot served as a Skid Row social gathering spot on weekends if the weather was nice. The atmosphere was friendly and accepting to all comers.

San Francisco firetruck in action on Skid Roq.

This parking lot served as a Skid Row social gathering spot on weekends if the weather was nice. The atmosphere was friendly and accepting to all comers. Very few women here.

Don’t know the reason but it semed most of these guys lost their right legs.

Gordon, a social worker, visiting one of his clients who didn’t show up for an appointment. His job was to help these Skid Row residents relocate to make way for the Yerba Buena Project.

This is Sixth Street near Market. There was always a lot of activity here. The young guy on the left is a newspaper delivery boy. The guy on the right managed to talk me into buying him a beer.

This is Sixth Street near Market. My response to this environment was of people trying to survive life, a sense of desperation. On the family farm in Hawaii, we were trying to make a living.

This is Sixth Street near Market. Public alcoholism was pretty common. Was good to have friends around. Unfortunately, many suffered and died alone.

When darkness came, rats ruled. One woman collected garbage from the back of restaurants in the early morning hours. At dawn she fed the rats from her ground floor room window that faced a dead end alley. It was her hobby. A guy who was a minor league pitcher in his younger days killed these rats in the alley by throwing rocks. I paid him $15.00. The City of San Francisco hired me to get photos of rats for their legal battle to redevelop the area.

I came across only about three women on the Skid Row streets. The men treated them with respect. Historically, the San Francisco Skid Row was comprised mostly of single men working the docks or merchant marines passing through. In the 1960s, most of the residents were pensioners.

Skid Row residents often said they were happy in their environment because they were accepted by their neighbors and peers.

In Mars Hotel community room, payment for the coffee was optional. This Skid Row hotel was pretty clean compared to others and the tenants socialized regularly. The few times I visited, they had to sneak me in. Because of the political relocation battle going on, the front desk clerks did not allow anyone with cameras to enter.

Eviction notice on a Skid Row hotel room door posted by the San Francisco Redevelopment Agency. Since 1930s, the area known as Skid Row was cheap housing for laborers, dockworkers and merchant marines passing through. In the 1960s, most of the hotels had become dilapidated and the residents were mostly single white pensioners. Some of the residents had lived here for many years and considered the hotels their home.

I don’t like to take pictures like this. It’s like kicking a man when he is down. But I took this one as evidence that we as a civilized society somehow failed him. Many of these guys served in the Armed Forces during WW2 and the Korean War. They worked as merchant marines sailors and as laborers at dockside and the shipyards. They did contribute to society. One of the guys I personally knew died in the cold after passing out in a Skid Row alley during the winter of 1970. He was an Eskimo who traveled the world as a merchant marine sailor until disabled with alcoholism.

Abandoned hotel lobby. During WW2, these hotels were very busy temporary homes for merchant marine sailors, shipyard and dockworkers. In the 1960s, the residents were mostly single male pensioners. Not all were alcoholics. The feeling I got was of loneliness and desperation when walking through theabandoned area.

I felt I was invading a private area of a person’s life and found it hard not to be judgmental. In a way, I feel we are all responsible for this scene. Many of the guys that lived in this room were veterans of WW2 and the Korean War; and shipyard workers and merchant marine sailors contributing to society. Then again, maybe we are witnessing the Darwinian theory. “Civilization is just a veneer.” Who said that?

There were many hotels like this one on Skid Row. The rent was cheap but the conditions were minimal for the most part. Since the 1930s, these were known as Skid Row hotels.

Night card games were the norm in the Mars hotel. Interesting is that I did not see them drinking while playing cards. Most of the drinking I saw was out on the streets or when they were alone in their rooms. Most did not want me to photograph them in their rooms but it was OK on the streets.

The Drifter at San Francisco General Hospital having stiches removed from his head wound. After these pictures were taken, I saw him a few more times on Skid Row then he disappeared. I hope he made it through life OK. He was a gentle likeable guy.

The Drifter at San Francisco General Hospital waiting to get the stiches removed from his head and the wound cleaned. His head injury was the result of a mugging on Third and Howard Streets on a cold Sunday afternoon. The mugging by three guys took less than a minute. They took his belt, shoes, wristwatch, wallet and emptied his pockets. Then they simply walked away laughing and examining their loot without looking back. I saw it from across the street. Skid Row.

The Drifter at San Francisco General Hospital. He woke up asking for his buddy who went out to get some cigarettes. He smoked a lot but I never saw him drink alcohol in public. The hospital was busy so our “waiting room” was in the hallway next to a guy on a gurney.

San Francisco General Hospital hallway “waiting area”: The friendship between these guys was precious. Their conversations were quiet and intimate. Somehow, my presence with a camera did not affect their behavior. The guy with the hat, the Drifter, needs to have stiches removed from his head as a result of a mugging about a week earlier.

The Drifter and his friend in a cab on the way to San Francisco General Hospital. The Drifter, the guy with the hat needed stiches in his head removed. The guy on the left, a Skid Row resident, was often seen helping out the other guys. He said helping others gave meaning to his life.

This is a room in the Mars hotel. There was a healthy community spirit and socializing in this hotel. It seemed like this particular hotel had its own culture. The rooms were clean and the tenants participated in keeping it clean in comparison to the Netherlands hotel across the street. The Netherlands was truly a health hazard.

This guy lived in the Mars hotel that was relatively clean compared to the Netherlands hotel in the background. The community toilets/shower rooms on the 3rd floor of the Netherlands had been out of order for a long time. At night, the tenants would urinate in the hallway rather than go to the next floor.

Smoking and drinking were the drugs of his era. He bummed around for most of his life. Lost his leg when he fell asleep under a train car in a train yard. The car he was under got bumped by a locomotive being parked in a siding and the train wheels cut his leg off.

The cut in his jacket was the result of a knife fight. That’s all he admitted to. He was a loner and most all of the residents avoided him. I did ask his permission to take his picture.

Rodney on the left and his best friend. whenever I found them together, they were drunk having a good time.

The Mars Hotel on 4th and Howard Streets was in the heart of Skid Row. It will be soon torn down to make way for the Yerba Buena Redevelopment Project.

In this particular abandoned room, there was no literature.

Often, when exploring these ruins, I would bump into a homeless person. Most were suffering from alcoholism and mental illness. I did not have the courage to take their pictures because it was too private a moment. They were vulnerable with no power or ability to object. I thought the least I could do was respect their privacy.

On Sundays, when weather permitted, the residents gathered at 4th and Howard Streets to socialize and trade goods. Most of the men were dressed well.

On Sundays, when weather permitted, the Skid Row residents gathered at 4th and Howard Streets to socialize and trade goods. Very seldom was cash exchanged.

Photographer Ted Kurihara and friend. Having grown up on a farm in Hawaii, I never heard of Skid Row until I got here.

This scene is in the ruins of an abandoned building. In a short while, these ruins will be gone. Skid Row existed since the 1930s.

In 1966, the City of San Francisco approved plans for the Yerba Buena project to redevelop the area known as Skid Row. This project was interrupted by lawsuits in the 1970s as community leaders argued against the displacement of cheap housing. In 1970, the area was mainly dilapidated hotels, industrial buildings and open space parking lots.

This woman was quite popular with the guys. They treated her with warmth and respect.

Trash, the breeding grounds for rats was common in the area.

This guy lived on Sixth Street. The few times I bumped into him, he was always able to talk me into buying him a beer. He appointed himself as my “guide and bodyguard.”

Many of the guys on Skid Row were eager to find work but this alcoholism thing kept getting in their way. In this office of the San Francisco Redevelopment Agency, these two are waiting for counseling from a social worker to help in getting a job and relocated from the area scheduled to be redeveloped.

This is Loyd in the Mars hotel on 4th and Howard. He lived off his pension and was a neat person. His room was very tidy compared to others. He saved the caps from his liquor bottles and had a doll collection. Loyd suffered from mental illness and alcoholism.

Loyd in the Mars hotel on 4th and Howard Streets. He was friendly when approached by others but was usually a loner. Skid Row was his home and he could not conceive of moving out. This was his biggest concern at the time these photos were taken. He was proud of his room and allowed me to visit and take photos. Within a few months, he will be evicted.

A Mars hotel room on 4th and Howard. This hotel was relatively clean and the tenants socialized comfortably. Of course, not all residents of the area were alcoholics. These guys were employed and lived here because the rent was low.

Literature like this was found in many of the rooms. Like all of us, they were trying to survive the best they could. In the 1960-70s, there were very few community resources available except for the Salvation Army.

Notice to vacate. I’m not sure if the busted mirror had anything to do with this note but the room was trashed.

Compared to others, this guy left a lot of stuff behind. Chances are that after this picture was taken, someone would break into this abandoned hotel and take the clothing. Later, he would be trading it at the Sunday flea market of 4th and Howard when the weather was comfortable. The paperbacks were usually traded for other paperbacks.

The owner of this refrigerator had a sense of humor. Refrigerators in rooms were rare. I suspect this belonged to a tenant who was a permanent hotel guest.

Skid Row hotel interior “courtyard.” I could not find an entrance to this “courtyard.” I suppose they climbed through the windows. Many wine bottles here. Many of the men who lived here served our country as dockworkers, laborers and as merchant marines and soldiers during WW2 and the Korean War.

Religious literature was found everywhere along with some girlie magazines. Paperback novels were the most popular.

Sunrise view from the top of a Skid Row hotel. Pictured in the scene is my friend Fuji, an artist. He came along to keep me company. As an army veteran and world traveler, he thought it not safe for me to go out to Skid Row alone so early in the morning. He was sort of right. A few months later, I was robbed at gunpoint on Sixth and Market in the middle of the day. They took my wallet but not my camera. I was happy about that.

Having originated from Hawaii, I went in to get a hometown paper. No such luck.

Photographer Ted Kurihara exploring the Skid Row buildings under demolition. At first, I went out exploring out of curiosity. I took pictures and then I sort of got involved and explored more. I filed these negs away in about 1970 and had not seen them again until 2020. I thought I should post these pictures to preserve the fact that these guys existed and were trying to survive the best they could with what they had.

San Francisco General Hospital. The Drifter and his friend are on their way to their assigned room to have stiches removed from his head wound he received as a result of a mugging on Skid Row. No one objected to my photography in the hospital. Today, with all the privacy laws, you can’t.

San Francisco General Hospital. The Drifter is still waiting to have the stiches in his head removed. The doctor suggested that his brain injury might be permanent. I was there when three guys mugged him by hitting his head with a lead pipe on Third Street and Howard. I hailed a cab, waving him down by standing in the middle of the street. The Drifter was unconscious and bleeding when I dragged him into the cab. On the way to the hospital, the cab driver was yelling at me about cleaning up the blood. When we got there, he saw how badly wounded the Drifter was, never asked for the cab fair and went on his way. Then the hospital prevented me from checking him in because I wasn’t a relative nor did I even know his name. So when they opened the door for another patient, I quickly dragged the unconscious Drifter into the hospital. I was in shock throughout and never took a picture.

This social worker was very special to the residents on Skid Row. When out on the streets, she never ignored a person she knew. She would engage them in a conversation and within a few minutes, a small crowd would appear.

This is the waiting room of the New Start office of the San Francisco Redevelopment Agency on Skid Row. These guys are seeking shelter from the rain and cold. At the same time, the social workers would attempt to assist in their relocation to make room for the Yerba Buena Project. The relocation was tough for everyone.

The Cab Driver taking the Drifter and his friend to San Francisco General Hospital. He never said a word. The fair was paid for by the City of San Francisco.

The New Start waiting room of the San Francisco Relocation Agency office on Skid Row. It was raining and cold outside when this photo was taken. These guys were content to sit for hours in the heated room to be out of the weather. Conversation there was done in a whisper. All “behaved” to prevent being asked to leave.

This photo taken in the Mars hotel. These guys were often seen together. The guy in the middle…I never heard him speak. These guys were alcoholics but I never saw them drinking when they were socializing like this. I did see them drinking in public.

This is Sixth Street near Market. My response to this environment was of people trying to survive life, a sense of desperation. On the family farm in Hawaii, we were trying to make a living.

View of Howard Street from the Yerba Buena Hotel on 3rd and Howard. This area was known as Skid Row since the 1930s. In the 1970s the Yerba Buena Project redeveloped this area.