Top of the Mark

Nineteen floors up. Atop Nob Hill. This, my friends, is the legendary Top of the Mark. Can you feel the hum of history beneath your feet? The Top of the Mark isn’t just a bar. It’s a time capsule, a monument to romance, heartbreak, and resilience. Opened in 1939 atop the Mark Hopkins Hotel, the Top of the Mark was the brainchild of George D. Smith. He transformed an 11-room penthouse into a glass-walled marvel, offering unparalleled views of San Francisco. Smith worried that people wouldn’t venture 19 floors up for a drink. He needn’t have. The Top of the Mark was an instant hit. People queued for hours. They came for the panoramic views, the dancing, the live music. They came to see and be seen. During World War II, the Top of the Mark took on a new significance. It became a poignant farewell spot for servicemen heading to the Pacific. Imagine the scene. A final toast, the Golden Gate Bridge shimmering in the distance. A symbol of hope, a promise of return. The northwest corner became known as “Weepers’ Corner.” Wives and girlfriends gathered there, watching ships disappear over the horizon. They held their breath, clinging to the hope of reunion. The Top of the Mark also witnessed the birth of a unique tradition: the “squadron bottle.” Servicemen would buy a bottle, leaving it for their comrades to enjoy a free drink. The last man to take a swig bought the next bottle. It was a simple gesture, a testament to camaraderie and shared experience. Today, the Top of the Mark still sparkles. Over 100 martini variations grace the menu. The city lights twinkle below. The echoes of laughter and whispered goodbyes linger in the air. As you sip your drink, remember the stories held within these walls. Remember the servicemen, their hopes and fears. Remember the weeping wives, their steadfast love. The Top of the Mark isn’t just a bar. It’s a living testament to the enduring spirit of San Francisco.