Bernal Heights

That bald hill with the odd contraption on top is the geographical high point of a neighborhood that plays it close to the vest. Despite the cultural and sociological foment of the Mission District to the north and the goings-on of the Google crowd in Noe Valley to the northwest, Bernal Heights is a sanctuary of folks who go to work and then come home to their families, their partners, their pets, their hobbies, and their artistic pursuits without making a big fuss about it. They eat dinner—from a local take-out Thai place, a taqueria, the corner pub, or their own kitchen from vegetables they grow in their own backyard—and then pursue their private lives quietly. These are not showy people. There’s no cinema, no theater, no fancy shopping district here. What there is looks pretty much like a solid, residential area in an older city on, say, the East Coast, or in Chicago. Were it not for Bernal Hill and the views it gives of San Francisco from many angles, it would be hard to distinguish this area from any number of places in the Bay Area as well.

Yet, that hill and its crowning microwave tower make all the difference, for Bernal Hill not only gives the neighborhood its name but also the elevation necessary to distinguish it from the surrounding areas. Historically part of a large Mexican rancho run by José Cornelio de Bernal, to whom it was deeded, the slopes were cut up after California became a U.S. state into small lots settled by European immigrants, who farmed and operated dairy ranches on them. Their practices kept the top of the hill as communal pasture, free of the cookie-cutter development that befell much of the rest of the city during the 19th century. After the 1906 earthquake and fire (from which the neighborhood was mostly spared, thanks to Bernal hill's serpentine bedrock and the fact that most dwellings weren’t constructed in cheek-by-jowl fashion), people moved to Bernal Heights in increasing numbers, attracted by its curved and winding streets (remnants of the animal trails and footpaths of its farmland past) and patchwork of yards, seeking a respite from the grid and grind of the rest of San Francisco.

During World War II, more blue-collar workers came, attracted by the steady work and good pay offered by the naval shipyards of Hunters Point. By the late 1960s and early ’70s, enough anti-Vietnam War activists had settled here to make the neighborhood a kind of political hotbed, second to the Haight. Then came a decline, as the area succumbed to drug traffickers and related crime. The renewal of the 1990s is still being felt today, as young families, lesbians, artists, and single professionals revive a hodgepodge of homes, some Victorian and impressive, others from the mid-20th century and of modest architectural origins, all of them essential to a close-knit neighborhood where people swap news over backyard fences and across front porches, as they might in any small town.

The town feeling of Bernal Heights is evident in its leafy streets, the care with which people tend the flowers and greenery of their yards, and the fierceness with which they support their parks. Bernal Heights is known as a dog-lover’s haven, to a great degree because canine guardians (they would never call themselves “owners”) have convinced their landlords of their passion (leases often allow dogs of all sizes) and also because they have lobbied City Hall to keep Bernal Heights Park an “off-leash zone” for humankind’s best friends, ensuring that poop bags are available to placate the joggers and walkers and other mammals who use its many trails (which they, in turn, enjoy for marvelous views of downtown, Twin Peaks, and the East Bay). Neighborhood artists, tinkers, activists, and average residents host an annual “illegal” soapbox derby (it has been shut down by police on occasion in the past) in the fall, with the steep Bernal Heights Boulevard transformed into a track for the imaginative vehicles that compete.

Holly Park, which used to be little more than a swingset and slide on top of an oval hillock that rarely got mowed, has been transformed of late into a dream playground, with brightly colored play equipment, benches, and tables. Even Precita Park, a relic from 1894 on the lower northern flank of the Bernal Heights, facing the Mission District, has been cleaned up and made safer, a far cry from its days as a decrepit, depressing place for drug addicts to congegrate. St. Mary’s Playground and Recreation Center, on the south-facing side of Bernal Heights, near Alemany Boulevard, also gets high marks from locals for its tennis courts, capacious gymnasium, and dog walk with grass and paved areas. The large rec center has activities for tots (ages 1 to 3), kid's gym, and peewee sports.

That everybody in this neighborhood of roughly 25,000 gets along and looks at parks as integral to their quality of life—walker, jogger, dog-runner, and parent alike—is a testament to the mellow, cooperative nature of the place. (U.S. Census Bureau figures peg its population at more than 60 percent white, with Asians [20 percent] and African Americans [10 percent] accounting for large segments as well.)

The city’s longest-standing farmer’s market (established in 1947, among the first in California) assembles every Saturday from dawn to dusk in the huge lot at 100 Alemany Blvd. The enormous selection of fresh produce includes standards (beans, tomatoes, aparagus, strawberries, peaches, corn, etc.) as well as Asian veggies (bok choy, daikon, et al.) and has of late tipped toward locally grown (rather than trucked in from far-flung Central Valley farms) and, to a lesser degree, organic. Plus, prepared-food stalls and hot take-away items like pizza, pupusas, and kebabs.

Despite all the improvements in public spaces, crime still visits the area: Vehicle break-ins and auto thefts, robbery, burglary, and disturbing the peace occur every day or so along the main commercial strips of Cortland Avenue, Mission Street, and Cesar Chavez Street, according to San Francisco Police Department stats. There’s a spillover of gang activity from the Mission District to the north, which means that not only vandalism but also assault and other violent crimes are committed here. (The area has counted five homicides in the last three years.)

Though the area is not known for public transit on every corner, buses do crisscross Bernal Hill: the 24 on an east/west path, the 67 north and south. The 23 cuts across its southern half, while the 27 does so on the north. A trolley (the J Church) skirts its western edge, along San Jose Avenue. The 24th Street BART station is within walking distance for many residents on the north side of the hill. Though many residents own cars and drive to work (highway access to downtown and Silicon Valley is good from the neighborhood), parking is generally easy, though steep hills discourage many drivers, so quiet streets prevail.

Elementary schools, both public and private, are spaced strategically around the slopes of Bernal Heights: Paul Revere (public K-8) on the east, and Leonard R. Flynn (public K-5) and St. Anthony’s Immaculate Conception (Catholic, K-8) on the north.

The neighborhood has one hospital within its boundaries—California Pacific Medical Center (formerly St. Luke’s)—and another, San Francisco General Hospital, blocks away, on 24th Street and Potrero Avenue.

Single-family homes have been a considerable bargain here for years; the ones purchased long ago have held their value while newer ones are still lower in price than the rest of the city. A single-family, two-bedroom home on a quiet street can sell for anywhere from $650,000 to $800,000, while a one-bedroom condo might fetch around $350,000. Rents are cheaper here, too: a studio can occasionally be found for under $1,000 a month, and one- and two-bedroom units on main streets are frequently around $1,500 a month.

The main shopping sections are along Mission Street from Cesar Chavez Street south, and also on Cortland, with its hilltop collection of cafes, bars, restaurants and markets (anchored by Good Life Grocery). Emmy's Spaghetti Shack, on Virginia near Mission, caters to the neighborhood’s no-nonsense residents who hunger for big portions and relaxed surroundings, as do a number of other casual venues (Liberty Café on Cortland, Blue Plate on Mission, and Caffe Cozzolino on Precita Avenue). The stretch of Mission from Cesar Chavez to 30th Street offers a number of Latin American restaurants, funky boutiques, a hardware and auto parts store, as well as a Safeway (with parking) at its southern end. Of all streets in Bernal Heights, this is where the melting pot is most in evidence.