I
n 1978, a movie named Lady of the House hit American televisions, carrying with it a story that would be preposterous if it weren’t, in fact, true: hard-bitten brothel madam works her way up to become popular mayor of a small town. This was the life story of the legendary Ms. Sally Stanford, who conquered hardship and a third-grade education with a winning combination of sass and street smarts.
Born in 1903 (with the name Mabel Busby) in Baker County, Oregon, the second of five children, Stanford’s wild spirit showed itself early. She eloped at the age of 16 and ran straight into a life of crime, immediately landing herself in prison for cashing checks that her husband had stolen. During her two-year sentence, she learned the art of bootlegging from fellow prisoners. After her release, she headed to Ventura to open a speakeasy. Once she’d saved enough money, a 21-year-old Stanford made the move to San Francisco, and immediately opened a brothel at 693 O’Farrell St. in the Tenderloin. “Madaming is the sort of thing that happens to you,” Stanford wrote in her 1966 autobiography, The Lady of the House. “Like getting a battlefield commission or becoming the dean of women at Stanford University.”
Stanford’s dazzling confidence, wit, and steadfast ability to keep secrets quickly made her an infamous figure in the city. She was arrested repeatedly, but charges against her rarely stuck — in part because of her friends in high places.
“The politics of the town were dominated by Mayor Jimmy Rolph,” she wrote in her memoir. “He was a doll, a political dreamboat … Not only did Jimmy do OK, but the rest of us did pretty well too. For if there ever was a live-and-let-live type, it was Mayor Rolph.” She continued: “At this point [in the 1920s], it was easier to come by professional female company in San Francisco than it was to catch a rash in a leper colony.”
By the early 1930s, Stanford had opened a second bordello in the Tenderloin, this one at 610 Leavenworth. She made such a success of her first two establishments that, by the end of the decade, she had opened four more: 837 Geary, 1526 Franklin, 929 Bush and 1224 Stockton in Chinatown. The madam had no problem finding women who wanted to work for her either.





