The Hearst Corporation’s media empire — including the San Francisco Chronicle — began in 1880 with the acquisition of the San Francisco daily Examiner by gold mining mogul George Hearst. His son, William Randolph Hearst, took over the paper in 1887, following his expulsion from Harvard University and his father’s successful ascension to the U.S. Senate.

Willliam Randolph Hearst immediately left his imprinteur on the paper by embracing sensationalism — big, lurid headlines, illustrations, photos and comics used to pique casual interest from workingclass and immigrant readers. Eight years after assuming control of the Examiner, W.R. Hearst moved to New York, where he used $180,000 from a $7.5 million gift his mother had given him that year to acquire the New York Journal. Hearst’s Journal was soon to employ the same sales-stimulating sensationalism that marked the Examiner, and the continentspanning Hearst media empire was born.

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Ten of us — homeless men — were transported to 1399 McAllister Street gymnasium, behind Reverend Amos Brown’s Third Baptist Church. We were provided a blanket and a mat for the night — but not before a disdainful “they send us a lot of drunks” was executed by a macho-male staff person. I could not ignore the tenor of his words, although I remained un-affected. I know others at the shelter who are deeply affected by such “sticks and stones” that internally bruise and maim the spirit.

At 5:00 a.m. I rose up to prep for the day. Once at the lavatory, I opened the water-faucet valves to discover nothing but cold water. I asked the man next to me if the water at the number-two lavatory was cold also. He said it was. I protested loud enough, saying that I understood the costs associated with providing housing services, but that this is ridiculous. A man behind me said something.

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