Taking Back the City

The Saturday after the September 11 terrorist attack, I was driving with a friend across the Golden Gate Bridge one fine afternoon when a helicopter started flying near the span. My companion nervously looked up through the sunroof, eyeing the 'copter with the dogged gaze of a soldier manning the front lines. I kept watch through the windshield, muttering, "If that thing gets any closer I don't care how many speeding tickets I get--I'm gunning the accelerator and getting the hell outta here!" Then as soon as it appeared, the helicopter turned around, and vanished into the fog. Leaving nothing but patches of clear sky above, the bay sparkling sapphire blue below, and the gorgeous San Francisco skyline postcard-pretty in the distance. As well as two slightly frazzled, rather sheepish, men driving across the bridge in a black Acura coupe.

As someone who's traveled through Third World areas infested with communist rebels, driven across African savannah in an open-air SUV while hungry predators stood 50 feet away, and taken the 14-Mission bus after midnight a few times, you'd think that the mere appearance of flying craft over a bridge would certainly be far from anything panic-inducing. But such is the psychological state of the world after September 11 that even ostensibly harmless occurrences are turned by our collective paranoia into the beginnings of disastrous events.

Of course, the most vulnerable to this phenomenon are residents of America's best-known, best-loved cities. Now that New York has been attacked, some San Franciscans wonder, could we be next? There are certainly some compelling arguments for that thinking. San Francisco is a favored destination for tourists both local and foreign, meaning a strike here would resonate not just in the United States, but around the world. Our landmarks, ranging from the Golden Gate Bridge to our beloved cable cars, have become American icons, and thus inviting targets. And our status as one of the social and economic hubs of the West Coast must make us a tempting prize for any terrorist.

Thus, sayeth some, shouldn't we give some thought to the notion of abandoning the city and heading to less urban, less populated, less attractive sites for potential terrorist attacks? Are the pleasures of city life worth dealing with the mayhem that results should a terrorist group decide to launch a strike? The anecdotes have already started circulating about people whose coping mechanisms have decided that the answer to such dilemmas is simply to move and not deal with it anymore. An acquaintance who works for a large consulting company with offices at the Bank of America building downtown related the story of their receptionist who, after dealing with two post-September 11 evacuations in a row, started panicking, telling her boss that she couldn't deal with such crises any more. And she quit and departed the very next day.

Even if most of not may not have just upped and left town in the aftermath of the September catastrophes, an overwhelming majority of us have no doubt felt just a slight tinge of unease. Fortunately, though, it seems most have seen fit to shrug off that sense of apprehension and continue with their enjoyment of the urban paradise that is San Francisco. Indeed, an article in the San Francisco Chronicle not long after the attacks focused on how our neighborhoods were thriving, with people eating out, shopping, meeting friends, hanging out--living and loving life in defiance of any threat. And why not? Our fair city boasts of some of the world's best shops, restaurants, bars, and other attractions. Each with their own unique lures, all comfortably within the 49 square miles that comprise Baghdad by the Bay.

True, life as we know it has inexorably changed since the 11th of September. We will have to get used to terrorization in different forms coming at us almost every day--yesterday it was anthrax, today it's the bridges, who knows what form it will take tomorrow? Especially so since we live in such a visibly vibrant urban area. Increased security measures will mean more hassles for us as we go about our business and our pleasure about the town. Perhaps we may not even get to enjoy certain things the way we have gotten used to enjoying them--unrestricted access to national landmarks come to mind, as an example.

But methinks in the long run most of will--no, should--shrug these off and instead choose to celebrate the joys of living in the maddeningly magical city that we have come to call home. In an interview in the new urban magazine 7x7, celebrated New York-based hotelier and club impresario Ian Schrager called San Francisco a favorite city of his, because it's a "24 hour gateway city," offering almost any pleasure under the sun 24 hours a day, and 'cause it serves as a gateway to the rest of the world. And that neatly sums up why most of us have chose to call a place like San Francisco home--because it offers a unique combination of atmosphere, attractions, and diversity that no suburban enclave or little farm town could hope to compete with. So, as the world grows a little scarier around us, instead of abandoning our beloved San Fran, we should instead, as Linda Matcham wrote in the Boston Globe, remember that "Home is where the solace is."

As ultimately it all comes down to the question of whether or not we let our fears rob us of the quality of life we have learned to love, in a city that we love so much. Because if we are to give in to these fears and curtail our appreciation and enjoyment of this great place that we live in, then ultimately we have lost the battle, and terrorists living in faraway, God-forsaken hellholes will have won. So let Osama and his ilk rot in their dank little caves in Afghanistan. In the face of all seeming perils that we face, this urban dweller is doing his patriotic duty and going for a night on the town, fighting and winning his own battle against fear, my weapon the urban charms that keep me living large in a city like San Francisco.

Wilson F. Fang
Wilson F. Fang has resided in the City by the Bay for close to five years…long enough to gain a deep appreciation for San Francisco's many charms, but not long enough for him to be jaded about them (or score a really cheap apartment). Originally from Manila, the Philippines, he was the Scene at the Scene columnist and Lifestyle section correspondent for The Manila Times, Asia's oldest English language daily newspaper. An alumnus of Manila's De La Salle University, he double-majored in Communication Arts and Legal Management, and as member of the varsity debating team competed in four World Debating Championships, developing skills now being put to good use arguing with meter maids attempting to give him parking tickets. His day job involves working as the IT Support Manager for an Internet startup, and at night he repairs to his apartment at the Fillmore district, where he lives with his roommate, Dan, two stuffed Old English sheepdogs, and a substantial collection of books, CDs, and valuable vintage pornography.

Photos by Richard Risemberg

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