William D. Clark

1927 - 2018

William D. Clark

Dec. 1, 1927 - Aug. 24, 2018

William D. Clark, a North Beach raconteur, self-made ad man and fun-loving father, uncle, grandpa and farfar, joined his beloved wife in the hereafter on Aug. 24, 2018. He was 90.
Bill was a snazzy dresser and fierce competitor who sparkled with laughter, celebrated oddballs, and through sheer force of will (ignoring naysayers and, sometimes, reality) made many of the Clark family´s dreams come true.
Born into humble circumstances in Madera, Bill made the most of his family's 1940 move to San Francisco. He snuck rides on trolleys to get to classes at Lowell, and used the GI Bill to study at the University of San Francisco.
While in college, he took a jaunt to Catalina and fell in love with a beautiful young woman working at a soda fountain.
Bill and Annette settled in San Francisco, in part because it was one of the few places at that time that would accept their Jewish-Catholic interfaith marriage. They bought an Edwardian house in Eureka Valley, where Bill gleefully introduced their three children, as well as nieces, nephews and grandchildren, to improvised stories about Danny the Donut and Andy the Apple, the hilarity of Laurel and Hardy movies, a love for dogs, fierce backyard basketball games, raucous dinnertime political arguments, his grandfather's fiery chili recipe, the joys of riding in convertibles with the top down, and wacky cheap toys he'd find in Chinatown stores.
Despite having no connections or experience, and the pressure of supporting a growing family, Bill took a leap at the age of 30 to start an advertising agency in North Beach. To make his company sound more established, he called it Clark-Mann & Associates. In truth, there never was a Mann, and, at the beginning, there were no Associates. But his determination, cleverness and gift for story-telling, enabled him to land clients such as Fiat, Hawaiian Airlines, and many North Beach restaurants. One reason: he was a master of bartering. He persuaded radio and TV stations to trade unsold air time for credit (such as restaurant meals or airline seats) from his clients. Of course, his trades sometimes backfired. One time, he filled his garage with cases of surplus tennis balls.
Although not of Italian heritage, he enjoyed North Beach's dolce vita, lunching at Vanessi's, sipping coffee at Café Trieste, and organizing Liar's Dice tournaments at local watering holes.
In part because of growing up during the Great Depression, and his own struggles with depression, anxiety and alcohol, Bill had a soft spot for anyone down on their luck. We know he would be appreciative if, in his honor, you donated to St. Anthony's Dining Room.