THE SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT for the New York Times arrived at San Francisco's diminutive airport, Mills Field, at 5:15 Monday morning (July 16). He and his fellow passengers had been warned there would be no transportation from the airport into the city, so they hitched rides with friends meeting two of the passengers. On the way in, through deserted streets and empty streetcar tracks, they saw two bakery wagons bearing permits from the General Strike Committee to deliver bread to hospitals. Gas stations displayed signs: "No Gas, Due to the Strike." They drove past National Guardsmen on duty at bridges and terminals. At the hotel, they were asked to be "conservative" in their use of towels since their laundry service had been discontinued until the strike was settled. The hotel's restaurants were closed and so were most others, except nineteen exempted by the General Strike Committee; by 8:00 A.M, long lines already waited at those. Some hotels, their restaurants closed to the public, issued identification cards to insure that no one but guests was served.

Streets usually crowded with streetcars, taxis, and private automobiles were now crowded with pedestrians. Thousands walked to office or shop, often using the middle of the empty streets. Bicyclists were frequent; a few made their commute on roller skates. Many carried brown paper bag lunches or working-class lunchboxes. Others paused to pick up a candy bar or two to carry them through a lunchless day -- "probably more milk chocolate sold here today than at any comparable period in history," the Times noted. Department stores were open; their managers met later in the day and decided they would remain open, but customer traffic was light. Barber shops were closed; cigar stores, running low on supplies, were limiting smokers to one pack at a time. In the nineteen open restaurants -- in a city of some three thousand eating and drinking places-hungry customers lined up behind the lucky ones who had seats and lines straggling from their doors, not without some jostling, lost tempers, even, the Times guessed, violence. Fresh supplies were hauled in -- under strike committee permits -- but not until late in the day did the lines slack off. The General Strike Committee quickly authorized an additional thirty-one restaurants to open for business Tuesday.