Friday, August 22, 1975 Well, they settled the strike. Mayor Alioto, who’s not up for re-election, stepped in and gave us the 13.5 percent raise that the charter mandated — BUT, we won’t receive it for six months. Meanwhile, everybody … Continue reading
Tuesday, August 19, 1975 This is fucked-up. We’re on strike! Standing outside of Park Station with a picket sign, I’m watching people drive by and give us the finger. I’m pissed at the city. I’m pissed at the Police Officers’ … Continue reading
Friday, August 15, 1975 The fog’s in, and I can barely see the street below: Feels like I’m living inside a huge cotton ball. Strike One: I finally saw Gina again yesterday, but it wasn’t good. I’d been calling and leaving … Continue reading
Tuesday, August 5, 1975 God, what an beautiful morning when I woke up. The Bank of America building and the Pyramid were floating atop a white carpet of fog that extended as far as I could see. I got some … Continue reading