In 1867, St. Peter's Church, the city's first Irish parish, was founded around the corner from where La Victoria Bakery stands today, turning the southeast corner of the Mission into a working-class Irish stronghold. 24th Street became its bustling commercial hub.
After the 1906 earthquake, disputes over building codes delayed the reconstruction of SOMA, which had been almost entirely razed by fire. A wave of English, Scottish, Irish, German, and Scandinavian union laborers was pushed out to the Mission to live. The area ceased to be a leafy suburb and became part of the hurly-burly of the rebuilding city, becoming less affluent and more densely packed.
Anna Latino
Denise Gonzalez of Luz de Luna thinks businesses have to be versatile or perish.
Anna Latino
Sidewalk Juice owner Jason Nazzal, a second-generation merchant, sees 24th Street becoming another Valencia.
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And it emerged as a hotbed of labor activism. In 1907, the Streetcar Strike claimed 31 lives after railroad bosses hired gunman to disrupt protests. The strike's spiritual leader was Rev. Peter York of St. Peter's Church, and many of the union workers lived in the Mission. The strike ultimately failed, but it bestowed on the Mission a political capital sealed in blood.
The neighborhood remained a mostly white progressive stronghold through World War II. But after the war, the Mission's residents began drifting out to the newly built suburbs, including the Sunset District and Visitation Valley, joining a national "white flight." Latinos rose to become the neighborhood's dominant force.
The first arrivals spilled out from SOMA in the 1930s, when construction of the Bay Bridge brought thousands of workers to the district. More followed, gradually clustering around the church and bakery. White bohemians also drifted in. The Mission went from one-tenth Latino in 1950 to nearly half Latino by 1970.
White laborers forged the Mission as a neighborhood and put it on the progressive map, but they saw it as a way station on their path to greater economic prosperity. The Latinos who arrived after the war, though, made the area their own. They breathed new life into it.
In the 1960s, Latino neighborhood groups managed to fight off the urban revitalization program that ultimately proved disastrous in Western Addition and the Fillmore. Chicano activism flourished, and Mexican-style murals began to color the neighborhood. Galería de la Raza was founded in 1970 at the corner of 24th and Bryant streets.
In the '70s and '80s, political turmoil in Central America drove another wave of Latinos to the Mission, generating some infighting in the community that paralleled the rise of gangs. Meanwhile, affluent gay men starting spilling out of the Castro into the Mission's northeast corner.
The Mission was politically weakened when dot-com money hit the city's veins like a speedball in the 1990s. Developers took advantage of a 1988 law easing zoning restrictions for live-work lofts, replacing many of the Mission's idle industrial buildings with polished residences. Tech workers followed, lured, too, by easy access to the freeways that lead south to Silicon Valley.
The population of the 94110 ZIP code, which encompasses the Mission and Bernal Heights, swelled by nearly 4,000 between the 1990 and 2000 censuses before settling around 70,000 people in 2010. The median household income rose in the '90s from $29,874 to $53,108 — almost a 30 percent jump even after adjusting for inflation. Rents and housing prices went up, and many longtime homeowners sold. Businesses cropped up to cater to the newcomers: Valencia Street, previously occupied by appliance stores, became a row of boutiques and top-tier restaurants.
The influx remade the northwest corner of the Mission, but delivered only a modest trickle of newcomers to the southeast corner before the dot-com boom went bust. The 24th Street commercial district remained largely unchanged.
But now, with a second boom reshaping the city's economy, changes in the 24th Street corridor are accelerating. For business owners, the news isn't necessarily bad. The influx of money is a business opportunity for those able to seize it.
"I think it all depends on the business people's ability to adjust and to realize that they may want to still serve traditional customers, but they have to create new ways to serve new customers," Martinez says.
La Palma Mexica-tessen, opened in 1953, is almost always jammed with a mix of white and Latino customers. The Roosevelt sees steady traffic of white and Latino patrons of all ages. Over the summer, Woody Allen filmed scenes for his upcoming movie, Blue Jasmine, at Casa Lucas bodega before having lunch at Wise Sons.
Along the 24th Street corridor, nearly a third of proprietors, including Maldonado, own their stores outright, insulating them from spikes in commercial rents.
Indeed, some of the current turnover has more to do with generational change than rising rents. Discolandia went out of business when owner Silvia Rodriguez retired. The woman who ran Angela's Gifts, which sold mostly religious items, became too infirm to run the store. The husband-and-wife owners of Frutilandia restaurant, who had been commuting from Antioch, retired and sold the business to a younger Latino couple. In December, World Pioneer Video went the way of many video stores, but the owners, an Asian family that also runs the Chinese restaurant at 24th and Bryant, plan to open a natural grocery next door to the now-empty space.
Luz de Luna is one of a handful of new Latino-owned stores on 24th Street, when it moved in June from a cramped spot on sleepy 25th Street. In a historical echo of Maldonado's ouster of Murphy's Pharmacy, Luz de Luna took over the space J.J. O'Connor Flowers left behind when it closed after more than a century in business.