Mission Local is publishing a daily campaign dispatch for each of the major contenders in the mayor’s race, alternating among candidates weekly until November. This week: Aaron Peskin. Read earlier dispatches here.
Art Agnos first met Aaron Peskin in the late 90s. “I didn’t like him,” says Agnos, echoing a statement made by Willie Brown a week ago. “He was a pain in the ass.”
At the time, Agnos was in the Clinton administration heading Region IX at the Department of Housing and Urban Development (better known as HUD). At the time, Peskin was some guy who lived in North Beach.
Peskin and some of his neighbors were trying to stop the Colombo building, a local landmark, from being torn down as part of City College’s plans to build a new Chinatown campus. Peskin thought Agnos could save it. “It wasn’t a federal issue,” Agnos continues. “I kept saying,’I’m sorry, you’ve got to go to the Board of Supervisors.””
That did not dissuade Peskin. Sure, Agnos was managing federal housing for California, Arizona, Hawaii, and Nevada now, but had also been mayor of San Francisco (1988-1992), and Peskin was putting himself through a self-administered boot camp on how the city actually worked. “He was a newbie,” says Agnos. “I knew my way around. He wanted me to help. And I did. Ultimately.”
Two decades and change later, on a Wednesday evening in North Beach, Agnos is trying to get Peskin elected mayor. Soon, he’ll be making a speech to that effect, but right now, Agnos is holding court in the kitchen of a fundraiser hosted by Dick Grosboll, a local lawyer and progressive mover and shaker, and Esther Marks, who Agnos introduces as a legendary cook and “a rock of the Democratic Party.” The apartment where the fundraiser is being held is of a type that is particular to a certain kind of long-term North Beach resident: modest, comfortable, beige, jaw-dropping view of Alcatraz.
Marks is standing at the absolute center of the kitchen directing an all-campaign-staff-and-volunteer crew in the production of passed hors d’oeuvre trays (mushroom tarts, salmon on crispbread, little spoons of caviar, fresh mulberries) with the style and precision of a dance instructor. The kitchen is approaching steam room ambiance and the younger people present, who dressed up for this, are starting to sweat through their dress shirts. Agnos, no stranger to the microclimates of crowded fundraisers, came prepared in a summery pink and white shirt and baby blue sportcoat from his days of traveling out to Sacramento to work in the California Assembly.
Like Mark Leno, Agnos is convinced that Peskin is the best candidate because he has the management skills and focus to deal with the behemoth of San Francisco city government — the 121 different commissions, the 35,000 employees. Agnos has met with Daniel Lurie a few times to talk politics, he says. “He’s a smart, committed, fine young man.” But Agnos was surprised at how little Lurie seemed to know about the actual functioning of City Hall — how the commissions work, and how all the departments work. “He’s never been a part of the city administration,” says Agnos. “I’d love to have him as a son-in-law, but not as a mayor.”
“When Art was mayor was when the homeless crisis first started coming to life,” says Pattie Tamura, meticulously prepping corn fritters. “People were camping in Civic Center Plaza.” De-institutionalization, urban redevelopment in areas that once had the most affordable housing, and damage to SRO hotels in the Loma Prieta earthquake were beginning to converge into a situation that has come to define San Francisco. “All that time,” says Tamura, “and we’re still trying to figure out what is the right answer.”
Agnos’ campaign was the first Tamura worked on. She had just moved to San Francisco and was still learning. People got mad at her for not knowing the precise cultural variations between Cow Hollow and the Marina. She kept at it. These days, she says, it’s harder to get people to open their doors or to answer the phone, but the ones that do are still interested in talking. Her favorite thing about doing voter outreach — reaching out to people who think they don’t know anything about politics, and helping them understand that they do — still happens.
“The best part of a campaign is doing this,” adds Agnos, gesturing expansively around the crowded kitchen and living room, “Talking to people. Getting their ideas. Sharing your ideas. Seeing their reaction. Making friends.
“The worst part was asking for money. It’s awful. I hated it.”
In speeches, Peskin often mentions the fact that he’s the only candidate in the mayor’s race who isn’t backed by at least one billionaire. “In my day, it was more millionaires,” says Agnos. “We didn’t have the kind of free-floating billionaires that all come from tech now. It was real estate. Realtors. Offices. Big buildings. Because I was for rent control and vacancy control, I was not popular with the real estate industry.”
When the time for mingling is over and the time for speeches has begun, Grosboll, the host, name-checks everyone who has already donated to the campaign. He adds, by way of encouragement, “One great thing when you’re donors for these local campaigns is $500 is all you can give.” He introduces Moe Jamil, who is running for Peskin’s seat in District 3. “And now it’s my pleasure to introduce the man who many of us consider the greatest mayor in our lives in San Francisco,” says Grosboll, gesturing to Agnos.
“So many of you have gray hair like I do…” says Agnos.
“Silver!” yells someone from the crowd.
“So many of you volunteered on my campaign 35 years ago,” Agnos continues. “As I came in, this young man says to me, “What’s your name?”
The entire room bursts into laughter. “You’re in trouble,” shouts Peskin.
“Good kid,” says Agnos. “I asked, ‘When were you born?’ He said ‘2001.’ I get a lot of that these days.”
“I know that your being here means a lot to Aaron,” Agnos continues. “You folks got me into the mayor’s office in 1987. I was at 15 percent in the polls. My opponent was Jack Molinari. We started just the way you all are now, and brought me to 73 percent on election day.”
Being mayor of San Francisco was the hardest work he ever did, says Agnos, and that’s why he’s endorsing Peskin. “Every time something gets into City Hall that nobody else wants to deal with, he steps up.” In 1988, the year Agnos took office, the city faced its biggest deficit since the Great Depression, the worst drought in 500 years, and the biggest unemployment rate in some 15 years. Agnos launched into a story about meeting with then-congressman Joe Kennedy II, and being interrupted by Kennedy’s sister, Courtney, when she overheard Agnos talking about being forced to spend the first month of his administration raising taxes, laying off workers, freezing wages and cutting programs to meet the city’s balanced budget requirement. “It’s his job,” she said, gesturing at Agnos. “But what the hell are we getting our picture taken with him for?”
“There’s gonna be some of that next year,” says Agnos, to the room. He doesn’t bother to explain further. Everyone here knows about the city’s looming budget crisis.
“He’s gonna need you. Not only now, but then as well.”
