As the smoke swirls from Patricia Parker’s cigarette, she reminisces about her childhood. She sits on the same porch she sat on as an eight-year-old. Just a few blocks down from her green-antiquated house are towering grey concrete and modern buildings. Further east, past Potrero Hill and near the old docks, the charming Dogpatch Historic District houses a deep architectural and industrial history.

Along the waterfront of the Bay, the Dogpatch is now a developing area for new residents. The neighborhood, with its historical port location, once thrived on the industry of shipyard and factory work. By the late 1860s, the Dogpatch surfaced as a neighborhood grounded by the migration of Irish, Scottish, and English workers who flocked to the heavy industry.

“I’ve been told the reason it’s called the Dogpatch is because ships would bring things in bulk, like beef, and dogs would gather,” says Peter Gerba, a photographer who works in the neighborhood.

At the end of a nearby residential street is an interestingly designed white cottage with stairs leading to the home of a family apart from the usual in the neighborhood. In front is a metal barricade with a sign reading “Parking for Hells Angels only.” “They’re kind of our neighborhood police. They keep it safe,” says Gerba with a laugh as he sits in front of Piccino café, a contempo-ambient restaurant in a royal blue, old-fashioned corner building.

New businesses like Piccino café are servicing residents of the Dogpatch. “There are photographers and graphic designers everywhere,” says Susan Eslick, president of the Dogpatch Neighborhood Association for over ten years. Eslick is appreciative of the mix of old and new. As a contributor to the project that made
the Dogpatch a historic district in 2003, she is mindful of the architecture that celebrates the neighborhood’s primary historical existence.

“We are not preservationists to the point that we don’t want change in the neighborhood,” she says. “We
just want there to be a certain level of sensitivity.”

Irving M. Scott School is San Francisco’s oldest public school building that still stands in the heart of the
Dogpatch. The school brings back childhood memories to long-time residents like Patricia Parker, who is fifty-five and lives in the same house in which she was raised, just steps away from the schoolyard. “We have some older neighbors who have not changed,” she says peering down Tennessee Street. “We look out for each other.”

Although she accepts change, her passion for historic homes downplays a preference for contemporary lofts. “I hate the ones that look like factories, and this house used to be a great house,” she says pointing over to a grey, withered structure, which was once a cheerful whitewood cottage. “I wouldn’t want to move
to any neighborhood but this one.”

Some neighborhoods in San Francisco are distinctive based on their unique architectural styles alone. The structures in the Dogpatch make the neighborhood one-of-a-kind. There is a classic array of styles varying by the year the houses were built, usually between 1890 and 1910. From the classic Queen Anne to Eastlake-style houses, the homes were primarily dedicated to the town workers.

“Aesthetically, there’s something satisfying about the idea of basic shelter,” says Christopher VerPlanck, a local architectural historian who has performed an extensive architectural survey on the neighborhood. “You don’t need to have a monster mansion. This was basically something to hold you and your family.”

VerPlanck explains that although there is some remnant of Victorian influence in the cottages on Minnesota Street, the outer-décor is less intense than those in other areas. As a neighborhood built on a working-class history, the Dogpatch was not known as an affluent area. “I think it’s important to know that San Francisco wasn’t always a rich person’s playground,” he says. “Buildings are artifacts of history and prior generations of people.”

While modern times bring cutting-edge design, contemporary developments are a thing of the present and future. As the area becomes more desirable, anther building is brought and restored. And though a piece of
history is slightly lost, the historical architecture echoes the memories of a working-class neighborhood. “I hope it stays interesting,” says VerPlanck. “I hope those who have stayed will continue to convey their character to the neighborhood.”