Opening the Gate

For all the fabled glamour of its topless towers and clanking cable cars, San Francisco is a city of anguished minorities. They range from the black ghetto of Hunters Point, scarred by riot in 1966, to the hippie enclave of Haight-Ashbury, from the convoluted alleys of Chinatown to the psychedelic strip-and-clip joints of North Beach, encompassing en route labor unions, symphony lovers and Mayor Joseph L. (for Lawrence) Alioto, 52, the millionaire son of an immigrant Sicilian fisherman.* Last week, a scant 2½ months after assuming office, Joe Alioto was well on the way to opening the Golden Gate for an array of hyperkinetic urban programs.

Careful Cajolery. When he ran for the nonpartisan office last fall, Johnsonian Democrat Alioto—who made his fortune as a lawyer specializing in antitrust cases—was regarded as the least unqualified of a lackluster lot of candidates. He won, with a landslide 15,000-vote margin over the closest of 17 opponents (TIME, Nov. 3), and San Franciscans anticipated another administration devoted to parochial self-puffery. Not so. Alioto has come across like John Lindsay, Western style. Right off the bat he raised the hopes of the city's minorities. After his inauguration at the glittering San Francisco Opera House in January, Alioto scheduled receptions in the predominantly Negro Hunters Point-Bayview section and the Mission District (Mexican-Americans, Filipinos, American Indians). Humming operatic airs, sipping Campari and soda or playing the violin, he wowed the crowds. "The ghetto never goes to the Opera House," he said, "so we'll take the inaugural to the ghetto."

Unemployment was his next concern: Alioto journeyed to Washington and New York—to squeeze 3,000 new maintenance jobs out of San Francisco-serving airlines, create job opportunities in the post office, fire department, trade unions and in the Bay Area Rapid Transit's 75-mile construction project, which includes a tunnel under Market Street. Manhattan Banker David Rockefeller bent to Alioto's urging that a $250 million Embarcadero construction project —known locally as "Rockefeller Center West"—soon get under way. By careful cajolery, Alioto persuaded Warner Bros, to build a public swimming pool in Hunters Point—the ghetto's first —where movies may be filmed and residents can pick up paychecks as extras. Along the way, he helped settle an eight-week newspaper strike.

Coffers & Hoffers. Oldsters who were leaving the city have been encouraged to remain by Alioto's concern: last week he proposed reducing transit fares for San Franciscans over 65 to 50 and, on a subsequent TV "phone-in," said he would try to get buses closer to the curb at pickup. Whether talking of hippies on the Haight ("This is not going to be any police state") or to Department Store Magnate Cyril Magnin (whom Alioto made city protocol chief), the balding, somber-suited mayor is the master of civic ceremony. Last week he redeemed a painful campaign promise to reduce city property taxes 20% by proposing a commuter tax—the first on the West Coast* which, if enacted, will net $14 million a year from San Francisco's 122,000 outside workers. They earn 50% of the city's $3 billion annual payroll, and heretofore have directly contributed not a penny toward the cost of city services.