November 24, 2003, San Francisco Chronicle, Nine days in November 1978,

November 24, 2003, San Francisco Chronicle, Nine days in November 1978,

NINE DAYS. In San Francisco 25 years ago, this quick time span encapsulated tumult, sadness and rage still felt today.

First came Jonestown, where 914 Peoples Temple members, most from here, died on Nov. 18. San Mateo Rep. Leo Ryan and four others lay dead on a nearby airstrip after visiting the Rev. Jim Jones in his dismal jungle camp.

Then, while San Francisco lay shocked, another horror occurred. Mayor George Mosconeand Supervisor Harvey Milk were gunned down by Dan White, an inconsolable political loser.

White had quit his job as supervisor and then wanted it back. Moscone refused, and Milk, the city's first gay board member and a frequent antagonist of White's, backed the mayor. Slipping past City Hall security with a gun, White shot both to death and surrendered soon after.

Within hours of the shooting, an exhausted, emotionally distraught city summoned up its strength. That night there was an instant, unorganized parade of 30,000 people, young and old, gay and straight. They filled Market Street with candles and hymns, a peaceful rebuke of the hate and injury the city had just experienced. A tragic time found beauty.

That soft image doesn't completely smooth over the jagged feelings that linger. No one can forget where they were when they heard about Milk and Moscone. Just as President John F. Kennedy's assassination left a burning memory across the country, so did the two killings in San Francisco.

Standing in a bank line, studying at a school desk or talking on the phone, many felt time stop while the news from City Hall broke. This city, these two, after all we just went through . . . how could it happen?

These emotions pushed the city, naturally enough, to name a playground, plaza, convention center and school after its lost leaders. Small busts and portraits were made. A gay political club christened itself in Milk's memory.

There are endless political what-ifs about the careers of the mayor and supervisor. Moscone, a genial liberal, was slowly dismantling a more conservative political establishment he captured in a close 1975 election. His successor, Supervisor Dianne Feinstein, a moderate, slowed the pace of change and eventually became a U.S. senator.

Milk, canny and outspoken, opened the way for gay and progressive politics. Both trends took root and have flourished. Where might Milk be if he had stayed atop this game?

These speculations can go on endlessly. But there's no question that San Francisco lost two well-known leaders at a bleak time.

Just as true may be a kind of opposite truth. In its despair, a resilient city found a way to push forward. Flattened by the days of late November 1978, San Francisco rose up and continued despite sadness and disbelief. It's a powerful lesson the city teaches each year at this time.