It Will Always Be The Sir Francis Drake To Me

The Sir Francis Drake was one of the grand dames of classic San Francisco hotels, like the Fairmont and Palace Hotel.  This lesser-known jewel of San Francisco hotels became the Beacon Grand Hotel in 2021, but it will always be the Sir Francis Drake to me.  

When it opened in 1928, at the height of the Jazz and art-deco era, its 21 floors dominated the fashionable Union Square neighborhood.  It would be more than 45 years before another hotel in the area would eclipse that height.  Unlike the aforementioned hotels, I learned the craft of hospitality in the three years I worked at the Drake (as the locals call it).  First as a bellman then, officially, my first real concierge job.  

Compared to my first job in hospitality as a graveyard-shift bellman where the staff was cold and indifferent, the bellmen at the Drake couldn’t have been more welcoming.  At that time in the 1990s, I had just earned my BA in Film Production from San Francisco State University.  Having worked my way through college in hotels, I found myself vacillating between film gigs and on-call hotel jobs after graduation. While I pursued work in the film industry, I worked on-call in a variety of hotels, covering vacations, illnesses, etc.

It was on one of those on-call jobs when I first crossed the Drake’s threshold.  Being a lover of history and architecture, every time I entered that grand lobby, I strangely felt at home.  It was from that concierge desk a nascent career began though I didn't know it at the time.

The Sir Francis Drake Hotel (now the Beacon Grand Hotel) Lobby

After a few bad film production experiences and just as many positive hotel experiences, I was at a crossroads with the art and career I had pursued since I was a teenager.  A career for which I received a bachelor's degree in, and committed blood and treasure for.  I loved living in San Francisco and began setting down roots, but film gigs were often sporadic.  I found an aptitude in, and a calling for hospitality, but it was a career I stumbled into not one I was pursuing.

I had to decide: Do I move back to Los Angeles and throw myself into the film business. Or give it all up, stay in San Francisco, and pursue hospitality.  

It was a difficult leap-of-faith, but I threw caution to the wind, bit my lip and plunged head-first into the craft of concierge as intensely as I did for the craft of filmmaking.  

I was now an eager student of the concierge arts, and the Sir Francis Drake Hotel became my concierge college where I went to learn every day.

I’ve worked in a number of hotels where the areas marked, ‘Employees Only’ looked like any basement of a tall building.  Unlike modern hotels of the post-war era, the Drake’s lower levels were a Byzantine labyrinth of twisty narrow tunnels that snaked through the bowels and back areas of the building, unseen by the guests.  

Though not the most famous hotel, the Sir Francis Drake did have a couple of notable feathers in its cap.  From just about any part of Union Square you can see the neon-lit 'Starlite Room' sign.  Crowning the building is a bar and club with views of the city, and has been a prominent feature since it opened during the administration of Calvin Coolidge.

The Art Deco Sir Francis Drake Hotel and Starlite Room

The other prominent feature is sadly no more.  For 43 years the friendly doorman in the Beefeater outfit held sway at the Powell Street entrance.  Up until the day he retired in 2020, Tom Sweeney was the first and last person you saw while you stayed there.   In my bellman days at the Drake, before I became a concierge, I often spent time at the main entrance and worked with Tom.  First and foremost, Tom Sweeney is probably the nicest person I have ever met.  I mean he is really nice.  I mean like Minnesota-nice.

Probably the most famous doorman – and citizen! – in San Francisco, Tom Sweeney was, I would say, beloved.  They may not have known his name or where he worked, but every San Franciscan knew the Beefeater-clad doorman. He would probably pose for a hundred pictures a day, and not just for guests, but for passersby as well.   He was so well known that he would get invited to charity events, which he often attended in uniform. 

He had the uncanny ability to halt a conversation in mid-sentence and later remember it exactly, even if that conversation was picked up hours later.  Many times we would be standing on the street talking.  When a cab dropped off a guest to check in, he would stop talking and help the guests out of their taxi.  He would then put their luggage on a cart, and once that was done, I would bring it to the front desk while the guests checked in.  

Me and Tom Sweeney, the Drake's legendary Doorman for 43 years

Sometimes a long stretch of time would go by before I went back to the street, but he could pick up the conversation we’d begun hours earlier, right where we left off.  Many times I had to take a moment to remember what that topic was.  

He was also a civic institution.  From members of Congress to mayors, an unofficial endorsement from Tom was highly sought after.  I used to joke with him and ask if he would contact my local representative for me to fix a pothole on my street, because I knew they would take his call.

Over time, new mayors and other local politicians would get elected, and I would ask Tom for his opinion because he had met them all.  But he was too professional for that, and would never talk politics or indicate which side of the political fence he fell.  He would only comment on trivial facts, such as that Senator So-and-so had a firm grip when they shook hands, or that Mayor So-and-so wore a strong cologne.

For all his notoriety, he was down to earth, with a penchant for speaking really fast.  One night after we’d coincidentally finished our shifts at the same time, I ran into him on a city bus.  Ironically we lived only about five blocks from each other.  

“Tom, doesn’t every limo guy and cab driver owe you a million favors?” I asked.  “Why do you take the bus?”  

He humbly said, in his quiet rat-at-tat manner, “Pete I couldn’t do that.  It wouldn’t be right.  It’s just bad karma.”  So he would ride the city bus just like the rest of us.

Tom is also an athlete and regularly competes in marathons, which served him well when he once stopped a crime in progress.  As the story goes, a purse snatcher ran by him.  Without missing a beat he chased down and caught the perpetrator, in full Beefeater uniform regalia. 

Even as it approaches its one hundredth anniversary, this grand dame on Union Square still welcomes visitors and weary travelers alike into the 21st century.  And although it is now called the Beacon Grand Hotel, in my heart it will always be the Sir Francis Drake to me.