Herb Caen's column -- best described as a continuous love letter to San Francisco -- is the morning favorite of thousands of San Francisco Chronicle readers.

For all his expertise in San Francisciana, however, Caen is not a native of the City. He was born in Sacramento on April 3, 1916, and became a police reporter for The Sacramento Union in 1932. Caen did not escape the heat of the valley until 1936 when he came to San Francisco to become The Chronicle's radio columnist. While at the Sacramento newspaper, Caen tried his hand at sports reporting, and even knocked out a few radio columns. One of these landed in front of The Chronicle's editor when he needed a new radio columnist.

The Chronicle's new radio correspondent turned out to be an immediate hit, and Caen constantly slipped newsy incidents into his column. But two years later, San Francisco publishers agreed to stop aiding their competing medium -- radio news -- and most radio columns were turned out to pasture.

Caen, however, talked The Chronicle into letting him try a local interest column and on July 5, 1938, it all began. What happened after that is history. Just why is a subject for debate. Caen himself has said that "after all these years, I still don't know what makes a good item."

But rival newspaper editors disagree. "The secret of Caen's success," one of them once said, "is his outstanding ability to take a wisp of fog, a chance phrase overheard in an elevator, a happy child on a cable car, a deb in a tizzy over a social reversal, a family in distress and give each circumstance the magic touch that makes a reader an understanding eyewitness of the day's happenings."

To fill his column five days a week, Caen relies on an army of reliable tipsters and his right-hand assistant, Carole Vernier. A flood of daily phone calls must be checked for fact. In spare moments -- both in and out of the office -- he's always on the lookout for good items. When an item is checked and passed, it goes into a recipe file on Caen's desk, which he calls the ' item smasher, to be removed only when it is to go into the column.

Because he refuses to work columns ahead, Caen knocks out each column the day before it is to appear.
Caen arrives at the office between 9:30 and 10:00 a.m. At 11:15, he starts to write and by 1:00 p.m. his column is finished. Lunch is an important part of the day, and he usually meets with someone who is sure to supply an item for the column. Their casual luncheon invariably takes them to San Francisco's renowned gourmet restaurants. After lunch, it's back to the office where a proof of the column is checked for corrections and length. Most evenings, Caen attends a party or some official function where he keeps a sharp eye and ear open for news. Caen is an incurable jazz fan and houses one of the finest record collections in the Bay Area.

His other avocation is tennis.

Except for his 3-1/2 year stint in the Army Air Force during World War II, Caen has been turning out six columns a week for five decades.

Herb Caen's column -- best described as a continuous love letter to San Francisco -- is the morning favorite of thousands of San Francisco Chronicle readers. For all his expertise in San Francisciana, however, Caen is not a native of the City. He was born in Sacramento on April 3, 1916, and became a police reporter for The Sacramento Union in 1932. Caen did not escape the heat of the valley until 1936 when he came to San Francisco to become The Chronicle's radio columnist.

While at the Sacramento newspaper, Caen tried his hand at sports reporting, and even knocked out a few radio columns. One of these landed in front of The Chronicle's editor when he needed a new radio columnist. The Chronicle's new radio correspondent turned out to be an immediate hit, and Caen constantly slipped newsy incidents into his column. But two years later, San Francisco publishers agreed to stop aiding their competing medium -- radio news -- and most radio columns were turned out to pasture.

Caen, however, talked The Chronicle into letting him try a local interest column and on July 5, 1938, it all began. What happened after that is history. Just why is a subject for debate. Caen himself has said that "after all these years, I still don't know what makes a good item."

But rival newspaper editors disagree. "The secret of Caen's success," one of them once said, "is his outstanding ability to take a wisp of fog, a chance phrase overheard in an elevator, a happy child on a cable car, a deb in a tizzy over a social reversal, a family in distress and give each circumstance the magic touch that makes a reader an understanding eyewitness of the day's happenings."

To fill his column five days a week, Caen relies on an army of reliable tipsters and his right-hand assistant, Carole Vernier. A flood of daily phone calls must be checked for fact. In spare moments -- both in and out of the office -- he's always on the lookout for good items. When an item is checked and passed, it goes into a recipe file on Caen's desk, which he calls the item smasher, to be removed only when it is to go into the column.

Because he refuses to work columns ahead, Caen knocks out each column the day before it is to appear. Caen arrives at the office between 9:30 and 10:00 a.m. At 11:15, he starts to write and by 1:00 p.m. his column is finished. Lunch is an important part of the day, and he usually meets with someone who is sure to supply an item for the column. Their casual luncheon invariably takes them to San Francisco's renowned gourmet restaurants.

After lunch, it's back to the office where a proof of the column is checked for corrections and length. Most evenings, Caen attends a party or some official function where he keeps a sharp eye and ear open for news. Caen is an incurable jazz fan and houses one of the finest record collections in the Bay Area.

His other avocation is tennis.

Except for his 3-1/2 year stint in the Army Air Force during World War II, Caen has been turning out six columns a week for five decades.