Tucked away inside the lobby of 201 Mission Street is a deceptively simple arrangement of four vitrines and four information stands. I say deceptively because I only expected to spend about twenty minutes browsing the seventy-odd items. An hour later, I was ruminating on an empty container of Burnett’s Cocoaine, a product from 1857 Boston and purportedly “a perfect hair dressing.”
Through the end of January, the Transbay Archaeology Exhibit is on view during building hours, free to any curious passersby. While contractors excavate the future terminal site, archaeologists from William Self Associates, commissioned by the Transbay Joint Powers Authority (TJPA), have pinpointed prime locations for exploratory digs and unearthed a variety of historical artifacts.
If you’re hoping for buried treasure, you won’t find it here. Instead, the archaeologists discovered evidence of rough working-class lives, the remnants of families and businesses in the South of Market neighborhood in the difficult post-Gold Rush time. The exhibition casts an unbiased eye across the selected objects, providing evidence of both virtue (a student’s slate pencil) and vice (an opium pipe).
Burnett’s CocoaineViewing the bluish glass bottle that formerly housed Burnett’s Cocoaine, I was impressed by the sheer number of small business with custom containers. It appears that nearly every pharmacist marketed his own “miraculous” product (most of them mostly alcohol, a tried and true cure-all). Some examples on display: Dr. Rowell’s Fire of Life (made in San Francisco from 1875 to 1897), Emerson’s Bromo-Seltzer (popular for the impressive span of 1889 to 1950), and Dr. J. Hostetter’s Stomach Bitters, a brown embossed vial that once contained a liquid so high in alcohol content it was sold by the glass at saloons.
The objects themselves are intriguing, but the exhibition truly excels in expanding upon the artifacts through the use of written and visual support materials. One featured newspaper clipping from the San Francisco Chronicle, titled “CASUALTIES THE LOT OF THIS SMALL BOY” tells the story of little Joseph Ferry, bit by dogs. The article’s value comes from the telling picture it paints of the neighborhood in 1899.