By Erin Sherbert
By Howard Cole
By Erin Sherbert
By Erin Sherbert
By Leif Haven
By Erin Sherbert
By Chris Roberts
By Kate Conger
Of all the historical figures considered quintessentially San Franciscan -- Herb Caen, Joe Alioto, Scott Newhall, et al. -- the most quintessential of all may have been Howard Luck Gossage. As the 1950s and '60s ad man who created Beethoven sweat shirts and a paper-airplane contest promoting Scientific American magazine, his commercial legacy was modest. But his intellectual legacy, which consisted of a deep contempt for his chosen field, made him the "Socrates of San Francisco," in the words of an Advertising Agehomage.
Advertising, he once wrote, possesses "'a disregard for the decent opinion of mankind." It is a field "as curiously innocent of the shape of evil as a ten-year-old. There is no real comprehension of sin. The industry, it's true, is awash with condemnations of bad practice, but one gets the same feeling when a child evangelist preaches against fornication. It is unlikely that he knows what he is talking about.''
The intellectual house of mirrors Gossage lived in -- he thrived financially in a field dedicated to presenting things as they aren't, a field he claimed to despise -- is a quintessentially San Franciscan house.
San Francisco's reputation describes it as the most egalitarian and eclectic of places, yet it is an island where social class and political connections are crucial to prominence. It's a city whose mere name evokes the idea of leftist, Everyman-first political sensibilities; yet the city is run by a clubby, moneyed clique that always takes care of its own. San Francisco was the crucible of the 1960s national intellectual enlightenment, yet our city's political spawn now run, both here and in Sacramento, one of the most corrupt political machines in the country.
As confidant to Herb Caen and Tom Wolfe, Howard Luck Gossage was America's most literary-minded ad man. As the man who did charity ad work for the early Sierra Club, along with quixotic efforts to end the Vietnam War with newspaper ads, he was an intellectual patron to San Francisco's current clique of political leaders. So it is right and just and good that his biological legacy, the killer Eben Gossage, would become a parable for the culture of hypocrisy we now live in San Francisco.
In 1969, at the height of his ad-writing powers and amid his anti-war campaign, Howard Luck Gossage died of leukemia. Eben and his sister, Amy, split their father's $50,000 life insurance policy, with Eben using his half to buy four months' worth of heroin. Eben then forged checks in his mother's and grandmother's names. Eben's mother agreed to aid the prosecution of Eben, and proceeded to drink herself to death. Eben spent nine months in Marin County Jail, got out, and took to wheedling heroin money from his sister, whose lissome physical beauty had allowed her to acquire a string of older boyfriends who had cash to spare.
On a winter morning in 1975, after an argument over money the previous evening, Eben returned to his sister's Telegraph Hill apartment and, he later told police, found her door locked. He called the building's manager, and together they discovered Amy Gossage's mutilated body, undressed but for panties and a bloody T-shirt. Some 17 blows with a hammer had smashed her right temple and fractured her jaw. Her neck, side, and back were perforated with 45 shallow stab wounds, which were later found to have been made after she was dead. Eben acted shocked by the scene, but police searched his apartment, and found a cardboard box containing a blood-covered hammer, a pair of bloody scissors, and a wad of bloodstained clothes. Eben's attorney, LeRue Grim, entered a plea of not guilty, suggesting drug dealers had killed Amy. Framing Gossage was "the diabolical sort of thing a drug dealer who hadn't been paid might do," Grim was quoted as saying.
Eben pleaded not guilty to a murder charge, claiming he had killed his sister in self-defense; a jury convicted him of voluntary manslaughter. After serving a 2-1/2-year prison sentence, he went back to stealing and heroin use. In 1978, he was found guilty of reckless driving and, later, driving while intoxicated. In 1981, Eben was convicted of possession of heroin and driving while under the influence. In 1982 theft charges were dropped after Eben paid the victim compensation for the stolen goods. Eben then stole a watch from somebody else, and was sent back to jail.
Upon his parole in 1984, Eben reformed. He stopped using drugs and alcohol, finished college, and entered Golden Gate University Law School, having admired the skill with which Grim had handled his earlier case. He earned his degree in 1991, passed the bar exam in 1993, and applied for a law license to the California State Bar, beginning a process that ended in a state Supreme Court decision last week to endorse reason, and to deny Eben Gossage the right to practice law.
Although killers and thugs have become lawyers in the past -- our own district attorney, after all, pleaded guilty to battery when he was young -- Eben will not become a lawyer, the court decided. In coming to this decision, the court did not reach back into the past and revisit Eben's hammer tattoo on his sister's head. Instead, the court focused on his more recent conduct, which included multiple bench warrants -- i.e., warrants issued by judges who were perturbed by his failure to show up in court as ordered -- that Eben had earned for himself while actually attending law school. Also, the Supreme Court took notice that on his Bar application, which is signed under penalty of perjury, Eben failed to list more than half of the 17 criminal convictions that have attached, through the years, to his name.