06/02/2020
Footage of the George Floyd protests in San Francisco yesterday - plus a story if you have time.
We made it to downtown around 3:30PM and spotted large crowds heading from City Hall towards the Embarcadero. Continuing on for another half mile, we crossed Market and chose a parking spot on a side street that felt far enough away.
The skyscraper-lined avenues of the Financial District were eerily empty. We walked by boarded-up businesses, past George Floyd's name spelled out in spray paint on bus stops and stone walls, towards distant shouts and sirens. In place of traffic noise, the whirring of helicopters echoed off tall glass buildings.
We found the protest as it reached the Salesforce tower. I've never felt such intense frustration concentrated in one place. Every time there was a confrontation with police, emotions in the crowd ran so high that it seemed like violence from either side could bubble over at any second. As the protest turned and connected with Market Street, a convoy of SFPD vans screamed down Market and dropped off a large contingent of baton-wielding police at the edge of the gathering. The officers rounded the corner and lined up in front of First Republic Bank on Fremont Street (presumably to deter would-be looters - though we saw none that day ourselves).
The crowd quickly concentrated around the phalanx of cops and began a barrage of chants and insults. A few minutes later, as I snapped a picture of the grim-faced guard unit, I turned to see Jess approaching me with wide eyes. "Dude! Your car!" I followed her gaze to the street to our left and noticed a familiar champagne-colored paintjob underneath several protesters. It was around that time that I realized this tense standoff was taking place at the precise location where we'd parked. (I filmed the clip at 0:37 - where my car is clearly visible in the bottom left corner - about three minutes *before* becoming aware of this fact. My tunnel vision is legendary.) I approached the protesters who'd taken up residence on top of my Camry and sheepishly explained the situation. "Excuse me - hey, sorry, this is my car." "Oh! Sorry honey!" they replied apologetically, and immediately disembarked.
A few minutes later, the crowd moved on, and we followed. My Toyota made it home that night unscathed - other than a few footprints on the hood.
Wild times.
