For as long as I can remember, I’ve been used to the idea that vaccines simply are part of life. The youthful fear I may have indulged in as a toddler notwithstanding, I’m pretty sure that before I was ten I found that their practical application made sense. Moreover, on more than one occasion throughout my life, my mother related her experience of catching scarlet fever as a very young girl in the 1940s, back when such a thing was commonplace. In fact, her older sister, who was infected at the same time she was, nearly died of the disease.

BY LAUREN PARKER I spent quarantine capturing and rehabilitating street corner cast iron.  I live in a part of Oakland where the curbside economy is thriving. Between freegans, moving dumps, and shops unloading inventory, there’s an understanding that what shows up on the corner is for grabs and, when you’re

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It’s been a dismal time to read about our beloved Paris of the West in the news these days. As it has in the past — notably in the 1980s in the grips of local political assassinations and the HIV crisis — San Francisco is the ire of national outlets

It’s never a great look to hold out hope for a mega-righteous “I told you so” moment, but when it comes to corporate wrong-doing, it’s alright to make an exception. The pharmacy is paying one of the largest sums of money ever recorded from a private company to a city

It’s not a secret that San Francisco sacrificed nearly everything for tech. There were tax breaks for companies like Twitter in an attempt to “revitalize” the Tenderloin/Mid-Market area, but there was little local intervention when landlords increased rent prices to levels even six figure earners couldn’t afford in historically low

On the first day of April — and not as a gag or trick — the San Francisco Chronicle’s editorial board gave readers a look of what might be to come for the Paris of the West. A budget deficit of $728 million, low transit use, and red tape mummifying

On April 18, 1906, five-foot-deep holes cracked through Market Street and ate people whole like cavernous maws to hapless anchovies. Author David K. Randall recounts in Black Death at the Golden Gate how Howard Street’s American Hotel collapsed on firefighter James O’Neill, crushing him beneath. And, when the first intense

by Don Thompson All day and sometimes into the night, buses and vans pull up to three state-funded medical screening centers near California’s southern border with Mexico. Federal immigration officers unload migrants predominantly from Brazil, Cuba, Colombia, and Peru, most of whom await asylum hearings in the United States. Once