Trailblazers

WHILE passing through the Western Addition section of San Francisco recently, I came across an African-American community center whose front wall was adorned with the painted portraits of its past leaders. "These were our trailblazers," the painting seemed to say, "honor them, and be guided by them."

As I stopped to admire the mosaic of painted portraits, I wondered why we don't have a similar way of honoring our community's trailblazers. But, of course, before we can honor them, we first have to know them.

Because precious little has been written about them, we can only rely on the oral accounts provided by those who knew them.

One such source of personal knowledge about our local history is Fred Basconcillo, the man who first told me about Olympic gold medalist Victoria Manalo Draves.

Born in San Francisco in 1937, Fred became the first Filipino to head a national union when he was elected president of the American Ironworkers Union -- AFL-CIO, a union which he led for 17 ½ years. As one of the few minorities in the national leadership of the AFL-CIO, he pushed aggressively for the union-made glass ceilings of labor to be open for other minorities.

Now retired, Fred has countless stories about different Filipino community leaders of the 30s, 40s and 50s. But none was more colorful than his own father, Artemio "Arte" Basconcillo, a past national president of the fraternal order of the Legionarios del Trabajo (LDT). The Legionarios fraternity was one of the three major national Filipino fraternities at the time, the other two of which were the Caballeros de Dimsalang (CDA) and the Gran Oriente Filipino (GOF).

Arte immigrated to the US in 1924, not as a farm worker as a vast majority of the Filipinos did, but as a young man in search of business opportunities. With the ratio of Filipino men to women at 14 to 1, Arte was one of the lucky few to meet, fall in love with, and marry a Pinay (Filipina) in America.

The Pinay was Mary Velasco whom Arte met in San Francisco shortly after she arrived in search of a job. She had been brought to the US as a tutor only to learn, upon her arrival, that her American employer had suddenly died and that his family could no longer afford a tutor for the kids.

Together with his wife, Arte opened a Filipino restaurant in the heart of Manilatown which was then an 8-block community on Kearney Street in San Francisco's Chinatown.

Arte's New Luneta Café was no ordinary restaurant, however, because aside from having a pool hall and a barber shop, it also contained a "speakeasy," which was a hidden place that sold liquor during the prohibition era of the 1920s and 30s. Not only did Arte's basement "speakeasy" sell liquor, but it was also a gambling hall complete with slot machines.

The New Luneta Café (which later became the Mabuhay Restaurant) was in the building adjacent to the old International Hotel on Kearney between Washington and Jackson. It was also on the block next to the Hall of Justice, headquarters of the criminal courts and the San Francisco Police Department. (The old Hall of Justice is now the site of the Holiday Inn by Portsmouth Square).

The New Luneta Cafe was a favorite spot of San Francisco's high society as well as of its elected officials, commissioners, judges and police officers. Not once was it ever raided even though it was next door to the police headquarters.

Fred recalled a photo of him as a young boy sitting on the lap of a blonde who, his father told him, was Sally Stanford, San Francisco's most notorious madam. Another photo showed his father with Pat Brown, the man who later became San Francisco District Attorney, California Attorney-General, and California Governor.

Fred once asked his father why, with all the money flowing through his hands, his family didn't become rich. His father explained that the profits from the business were used to help other Filipinos who were hard up, especially those who were facing deportation, which became a common occurrence after 1935 when strict US immigration laws were applied to Filipinos even though Filipinos were still US "nationals."

Fred's father worked actively with Artemio "Timmy"Areja, the president of the Gran Oriente, and Celestino Alfafara, the head of the Caballeros. Instead of competing with each other and succumbing to the "crab mentality" of putting other Filipinos down, these Filipino leaders worked together to help their fellow countrymen.

Fred's South of Market home became the home of so many Filipinos who couldn't afford to live in hotels because they had no jobs. Fred's father would find employment for them from among the wealthy customers who frequented his "café."

One time, Fred recalls, Arte received a call from a Pinay in Salinas who also came from his hometown of Villasis, Pangasinan. The woman was cooking in a Filipino labor camp when the gas stove she was using exploded, burning parts of her face and body. She had no money to pay for her hospital bills as her employer had fired her after the accident (there was no workers compensation at the time) because he needed another cook to replace her and he couldn't pay for two cooks, he said.

Arte drove to Salinas and picked up the Pinay at the hospital after paying for her hospital bills. She stayed at his San Francisco home while recuperating from her burns. Fred's father introduced her to him as "Auntie Aning," one of countless aunts and uncles Fred met in his youth.

Arte then asked one of his regular customers if he needed a nanny for his three boys. After being introduced to "Auntie Aning," the customer hired her on the spot to take care of his three boys -- Phil, John and Bob.

The three boys Aning took care of in their youth grew up to be elected officials in California. One was Congressman Phil Burton; the other was State Senator John Burton and the third was my colleague on the College Board, Trustee Bob Burton.

Rep. Phil Burton later became a main sponsor of the 1965 Immigration Act which expanded the number of Filipinos and others who could immigrate to the US from 50 a year (since 1935) to 20,000 a year.

The Burton brothers became among the most pro-Filipino, pro-minority of the elected officials of their time and since. Aning taught them well.

One day, there may be a park, school or street named after Arte Basconcillo, the Filipino gambling den owner who helped so many Filipinos get through the difficult years of 30s , 40s and 50s, paving the way for so many of us. Perhaps, the honor can start with a simple painting of his portrait on the wall of a Filipino community center.

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