In this week's installment, our friends at the Tenderloin Geographic Society take a tour of one of the city's classic, yet well-hidden, green spaces: Molinari Mana Park, tucked away on what could have been just another North Beach alleyway.

By: The Tenderloin Geographic Society:

Given the passion shown for parks and parklets, you’d imagine a populace deprived of the pleasures of grass underfoot, be-sunhatted gangs fighting for a verdant meter of picnic dominion. Not so: a recent study by The Trust for Public Land compared the amount of parkland to developed land in densely populated U.S. cities and San Francisco placed third, behind New York (19.5%) and Washington, D.C. (19.4%). That’s 18% of San Francisco’s prime real estate, just waiting for you to spill your beer on it. Y’know, for your dead homies.

As more parklets find their places amongst the Scions, Smartcars, and Priuses (Priusi?), let us remember what might be called the first parklet, a modest thing hidden from the gaze of all but the most dedicated of citywalkers (and those who can afford the neighborhood).

Behold, Union Street’s diminutive Molinari Mana Park, a mouthful of a name for a plot so small (and nothing to do with the tastier Molinari just down the hill). As if to explain to those who happen up on it, a drippy writ hangs near the entrance to the park, dedicated by some forward-thinking justices who didn’t want to see “another concrete alley.”

No mere showpiece for the residents of Marion Place, this is an honest-to-city park, and it represents the best intentions of its native sons. Both its namesake justices were born in San Francisco and attended Lowell High School. During Ronald Reagan’s reign as governor, Molinari advocated against cutting the mental health budget (see also: California’s homeless problem). His son, John L. Molinari, was elected to the Board of Supervisors for six terms. Serious pedigree, folks.

After the death of the senior Molinari’s wife, he went to live with his son in the Richmond District. As was reported in his 2004 SF Chronicle obituary, “After the first night, he came downstairs and announced, 'This is the first time I've ever slept west of Van Ness Avenue.' Days later he moved back to North Beach.”

Interested in sitting pretty in a little history? Hit Swensen’s on Hyde for a double dip of antique-flavored sherbet, then walk east on Union past Jones; if you walk all the way to Taylor, you’ve missed it. Pull up a park bench and take in the view, unperturbed by the riffraff in those other more fashionable parks.

The Tenderloin Geographic Society is San Francisco's home for colloquial cartography, citizenship services and alleyway landscaping since 2006. Stay tuned for the Tenderloin Report. If you've missed any episodes, you can always catch up here.