the carved word is one of the most complex expressions memory made manifest it’s something that straddles past and future without ever quite being present or rather it at first seems indifferent to the present there’s a tension of a most unfathomable nature the word desires to be understood to have meaning but you somehow feel that it’s not you yourself that the word is addressing it washes over you holding a dialogue with something arcane that’s maybe not mortal and you feel intrigued captured even you’re aware of a deeper existence maybe a temporary reassurance that indeed there is no beginning no end and all at once the outward appearance of meaning is transcended and you find yourself struggling to comprehend a deep and formidable mystery I’m dying you are dying second by second all is transient does it matter do I bother yes I do life is fantastic it never ends it only changes flesh to stone to flesh and round and round best keep walking
In this episode, I’m diving into one of my favorite San Francisco stories—the kind that lives right at the intersection of journalism, mischief, and outright audacity. It centers on two unforgettable characters from the San Francisco Examiner: the hard-driving, razor-sharp editor Bill Wren, and the wildly charismatic columnist Bob Patterson—better known to readers as Freddie Francisco. Bob was one of the most charming and fascinating men I’ve ever met.
This was the clash of two monumental titans over the use of the word “poontang” in the newspaper.
I walk you through Wren’s almost rise, a tale of grit and termination—from a runaway kid riding the rails west to becoming one of the most feared and respected newsroom bosses in the country—and how he hired Patterson, a brilliant writer with a criminal past, a trickster at heart. Their relationship was equal parts respect and chaos, which made what happened almost inevitable.
At the heart of the story is a ridiculous, very San Francisco kind of bet they made about whether the word “poontang”would ever appear in the paper again, after Bob used it in one of his columns.
What followed is pure Freddie Francisco: clever, subversive, and brazen.
It’s a small story on the surface, but it captures something bigger about Frisco, the era, and the kinds of characters who used to run the show.
