COLUMNS
86'd Stories: Sammy Reid and Jeff Dickinson
/ Jennifer Blowdryer
10.17.09
Sammy Reid was the first great adult I ever met. He came walking into this warehouse on Howard Street in San Francisco in 1978, just when my band was auditioning keyboard players. He had on sweat pants and mariachi sandals, and casually sat down and dominated my Fender Rhodes with this full, peppy, ‘60s sound. I gave up playing ensemble piano on the spot because this man, a former musical prodigy from Philly, scrappy, tough, and fun, was so real and good. A lot of how I tell a story or a joke today, 30 years later, is from listening to Sammy talk when I was a teenager: any mortal humiliation can become a triumph if the timing’s right. I still believe that. Sammy has been evicted from multiple apartments in downtown San Francisco and kicked out of a few restaurants. Bring on the evictions! Life, is that all you got?!
86ed: So, you were evicted from three apartments, all of them on Bush Street! Do you remember the first place you were evicted from?
Sammy: I think it was in 1974. It was the very first apartment I ever had here. I was 19. 797 Bush St. It was right on the corner of Bush and Mason, a basement apartment. I had a separate basement entrance, so you could enter my apartment by coming downstairs from the lobby or you could come in through this side door that came off of Mason Street. I was the only person in the basement. It was kind of like the lowlife apartment.
I didn’t have much of an income – this is the bad part – so I had put an ad in the paper to sort of attract business. A few people came over. I guess it was prostitution, but I didn’t do it for very long. You know, considering this story and a few other stories, I wasn’t really cut out for it.
I had a landlady who lived on the first floor. One night this guy comes over. I don’t remember much about him. He had dark hair, you know, he was kind of shady, and as far as I remember I charged $35 at that time. I remember at the store across the street, milk was 28 cents a gallon, so you could think of it like that. It was actually pretty good money.
Please don’t tell the law or anybody about this. He came over. I had this little drawer set right near the door, and 'cause he was real shady, I asked for the money either halfway through or before anything started. It wasn’t even that much we did but I took the money. I put it in the drawer, which was right near my door when you leave the apartment. So anyway, not much happened. I forget what I had on but it wasn’t very much. I think shorts, you know, cut-offs.
Just when he was leaving I thought I heard the drawer open and close, I heard the noise, and I thought, “I wonder if that fucking guy is taking the money.”
He left the apartment, and I ran right over to the drawer. I opened the drawer. The money was gone. So I just kind of like – I just saw red. I ripped the door open. He’d gone out the lobby way, upstairs. I ran up there, opened the door. I saw him. He had a VW Bug that he’d parked right outside the door.
86ed: So, you were evicted from three apartments, all of them on Bush Street! Do you remember the first place you were evicted from?
Sammy: I think it was in 1974. It was the very first apartment I ever had here. I was 19. 797 Bush St. It was right on the corner of Bush and Mason, a basement apartment. I had a separate basement entrance, so you could enter my apartment by coming downstairs from the lobby or you could come in through this side door that came off of Mason Street. I was the only person in the basement. It was kind of like the lowlife apartment.
I didn’t have much of an income – this is the bad part – so I had put an ad in the paper to sort of attract business. A few people came over. I guess it was prostitution, but I didn’t do it for very long. You know, considering this story and a few other stories, I wasn’t really cut out for it.
I had a landlady who lived on the first floor. One night this guy comes over. I don’t remember much about him. He had dark hair, you know, he was kind of shady, and as far as I remember I charged $35 at that time. I remember at the store across the street, milk was 28 cents a gallon, so you could think of it like that. It was actually pretty good money.
Please don’t tell the law or anybody about this. He came over. I had this little drawer set right near the door, and 'cause he was real shady, I asked for the money either halfway through or before anything started. It wasn’t even that much we did but I took the money. I put it in the drawer, which was right near my door when you leave the apartment. So anyway, not much happened. I forget what I had on but it wasn’t very much. I think shorts, you know, cut-offs.
Just when he was leaving I thought I heard the drawer open and close, I heard the noise, and I thought, “I wonder if that fucking guy is taking the money.”
He left the apartment, and I ran right over to the drawer. I opened the drawer. The money was gone. So I just kind of like – I just saw red. I ripped the door open. He’d gone out the lobby way, upstairs. I ran up there, opened the door. I saw him. He had a VW Bug that he’d parked right outside the door.
