Before it burned down the first time, San Francisco’s Cliff House, perched above the roiling Pacific Ocean, was a haven for wild and obstreperous events.
Some called it “Wicked fun” while others -were aghast at the rumors of drinking, gambling, and lewd and loose women making whoopee.
People spoke in hushed tones about the cadre of young, wealthy, sons of San Francisco society who frequented the back rooms. These roues – frisky and carefree – reveled in partaking in all things banned at their respective clubs downtown.
No one knew if it was a Flood, a Fair or the Hopkins boy who started the fight, which knocked over the huge table that fell into the roaring fire and started the conflagration.