By Bill Cereske
North American Alarm Company
San Francisco
(c) 1993  Bill Cereske            

In 1906, San Francisco was a bustling, busy metropolis.  
Although telephones were rare, San Francisco had excellent 
fire protection, for it boasted a municipal fire alarm 
system second to none.  It still does.                    

Since 1865, when The City had installed it's system - the 
fifth or sixth installation in the world - the system had 
worked superbly well.  It had to.  San Francisco was a 
city "built to burn" and without telephones, fireboxes 
were the only means of calling firefighters. To say it was 
a vital link is an understatement.                    

Nobody knew this better than William R. Hewitt, who had 
stewardship of the system.  A native San Franciscan, he 
learned his love of things electrical in The City's 
schools and joined the Fire Alarm Telegraph service at 20 
years of age in 1888.  Two years later, knowing that he 
needed more education, he attended Columbia University in 
New York.  He was offered the position of Superintendent 
of the Fire Alarm Telegraph immediately upon his return in 
July 1894.                    

On January 8, 1900 the Department of Electricity was 
formed, with the care of the fire alarm it's primary 
responsibility.  Hewitt became it's first Chief that day.               

In 1906, the fire alarm office was located at 15 Brenham 
Place at Portsmouth Square, and work was wrapping up to 
move into a new, $45,000.00, fire alarm office at the 
newly constructed City Hall. It was finished, and final 
acceptance tests were done on April 17, 1906.  It was to 
be occupied in the next day or two, but it was not to be.              

On April 18, 1906 at 5:14 AM the great quake struck.                    

The 600 batteries that powered the entire system from 
Brenham Place were in glass jars, 556 of which crashed to 
the floor and shattered, rendering the system useless.  A 
small fire erupted, but was quickly extinguished by the 
three men on duty.                    

Out of the disaster, Chief Hewitt emerged as a hero (or a 
bit of a bandit, depending on your point of view).  Hewitt 
found his alarm station at Brenham Place in ruins. He 
hurried to City Hall to save important records and the new 
fire alarm equipment there, hoping to restore service.              

Upon his arrival at City Hall, he was confronted by 
Federal troops, who forbade him to remove any of the new 
equipment, which had survived the quake without damage.  
Despite his efforts, the troops prevailed, with the result 
that all the new equipment burned when the conflagration 
tore through City Hall.  He then had his staff move the 
old equipment from the old office to Portsmouth Square and 
bury it to save it from the oncoming fire.  By 1:00 AM on 
April 19, 20 hours after the quake, the fire alarm office 
was ashes.               

On April 21, just as it looked like the Van Ness Avenue 
fire line would hold, Hewitt assembled his staff at 
Lafayette square and "immediately took possession" of an 
available residential flat five blocks from the fire lines 
at 2034 Steiner Street, "without asking the consent of the 
proprietor". In other words, he broke in and took over!  
By Monday the 23rd, he had also occupied the lower flat at 
2032 Steiner.                    

The equipment was salvaged from Portsmouth Square by horse 
drawn wagon "over still hot bricks and debris" and 
installed in their Steiner Street quarters.  The quotes 
are from Hewitt's own writings.                    

A crew of workers salvaged the wires from the undamaged 
sections of town and fully reestablished service in the 
unburned sections by April 23, a mere 5 days after the 
shake.  In their haste to get things on line, the crews 
were known to nail their wires to people's houses.  Rumors 
still persist that he "made" his own meal chits, in order 
to feed his men at military facilities.              

The restoration was made just in time, for a large fire 
rekindled in the coal bunkers immediately North of the 
ferry building that same morning.  Had that fire spread, 
more damage would have been done to The City, and the 
docks could well have been destroyed.  Needed relief 
supplies would have been unable to unload.  San Francisco 
would have suffered two great fires, not just one.                    

This residence was to serve as the fire alarm office for 
the next 2 1/2 years.  Records show that a rent of 
$1440.00 per year was paid to the owner.                    

On October 15, 1908, a temporary central fire alarm 
station was occupied at 55 Fulton Street, while design and 
location was decided for the permanent alarm station.  The 
Steiner Street building returned to residential use.  The 
emergency was at last over.             

Nine days later, on October 24, Chief Hewitt was suspended 
without pay by the fire and police commission.  William J. 
Nixon was appointed to replace him for "a day, week or a 
month".  News reports said Nixon had no intention of 
becoming permanent chief, nor was he eligible.                    

The post earthquake political winds did not fare well for  
Chief Hewitt.  He had been alternately criticized for 
having put too many men to work on the repair of the fire 
alarm, then condemned when he cut the work force back, 
even though he did so on orders from a commissioner.                    

He was also charged as negligent for building fire alarm 
boxes at a cost of $225 each when boxes could be purchased 
for $185.  The commissioners ignored Hewitt's testimony 
that the cost of his department-made boxes was $67.55, and 
in fact, ridiculed him.  No source was ever documented for 
the $225 figure.  He was also blamed for the fact that 
another City bureau had never issued a permit to United 
Railroads, Western Union and others for the installation 
of private telegraph wires.                    

The newspapers made hay of the fact that Chief Hewitt was 
a nephew of Sam Rainey, a recently deceased local 
political figure. Apparently, that was enough to put 
Hewitt on the political hit list. The "R" in his middle
name was,in fact,"Rainey".                   

Finally, on December 10, 1908 William Hewitt resigned, 
moments before a termination hearing.  Nixon was appointed 
to replace the outgoing chief and promptly accepted.                    

Nixon enjoyed a $500 per year pay raise to almost $3000 
annually, and a large percentage of the work force was 
immediately dismissed.  Nixon's first annual report 
contained a notation that Hewitt had resigned in October.                    

Hewitt returned to his home at 3000 Sacramento St. and 
became employed at the William McCormick Co. which sold 
and shipped wholesale lumber.  He was electrical engineer 
there for many years.  If living well is the best revenge, 
the deposed chief got his.  By the time he passed away on 
Feb. 21 1940, he had accumulated properties as far away as 
New York, substantial cash, stock ownership in the 
McCormick Co., had spent 20 years as the president of his 
own lumber company, and had earned at least 17 patents.  
His sisters, Edith and Florence Hewitt continued to live 
in the Sacramento Street home until 1957, when it became 
vacant.  It's now a new apartment building.                           

Today, a driveway occupies the location of the Steiner 
Street fire alarm station.  Nothing marks the spot of San 
Francisco's "Pirate" alarm station, save for firebox 
number 3-6-1-6, standing lonely vigil on the south east 
corner of Steiner and California Streets, still in service 
today.                    

                         EPILOGUE
                                  

Although William Rainey Hewitt never married, it is 
obvious to me that he was a loving man, and not the 
corrupt politically connected crony he was made out to be 
during his brief moments of fame (infamy?) during the 
civil termination scandal of 1907-1908.      

Remember, this was the time that the Mayor, Political Bosses
and the entire Board of Supervisors were being tried - and in many
cases, convicted of corruption.                   

The fact that he lived with, shared his property with, and 
bequested his belongings to his unmarried sisters when he 
died proves this.                    

A mystery still remains unanswered, and perhaps should 
remain:  The City directory for 1940 shows a Margaret 
Hewitt as his wife, and indeed was published in the 1941 
and 1942 issues.  It's this lead that led the author down 
many blind alleys and missed the discovery of his actual 
date of death for many months.  When one's name and phone 
number are published in two of the most definitive 
directories of the time in 1942, one hardly thinks to look 
backwards for one's demise.                    

Perhaps sadly, the 1948 directory shows a Margaret Hewitt 
living at 2407 Sacramento - a mere 4 blocks away - as a 
laundry worker.                    

William R. Hewitt (he never used his middle name on any 
document found, so it may be assumed that he did not like 
it.  It was only discovered on his death certificate.) 
performed his duties as the chief in an exemplary fashion 
which not only brought honor on himself and his department
but probably, through his actions in 1906, saved San 
Francisco from a much worse fate.  Had the docks been 
destroyed by the April 23 fire, relief would have been 
severely delayed in arriving.  This fire, forgotten 
against the larger magnitude of destruction from the April 
18 fires, could have magnified the grief and loss that was 
actually suffered, perhaps causing epidemic and 
starvation.  That firefighters of the S.F.F.D. could 
actually muster a fire attack against the fire of the 23rd 
is a serious credit to their mettle.                    

His assertive manner in dealing with emergencies certainly 
came from his experience as chief of the fire alarm 
telegraph, but it can be surmised that some of it came 
from his father, Captain Charles Henry Hewitt of England.  
Sea Captains had to be resourceful in those days.                    

There is no doubt that Hewitt's actions saved The City 
from a much worse fate than it had suffered in the 1906 
disaster.                    

Even in death, questions remain.  His entire death 
certificate was typed on one typewriter, except for the 
declaration that it was "DEATH DUE TO NATURAL CAUSES" (all 
capitals) which was obviously typed by a different one.  
The question of "was there an autopsy?" was overtyped 
"NO".  The first letter was a "Y".  Was there something to 
it?