Haight Ashbury Part 2: Sex, Drugs & Rock ’n’ Roll

Welcome to our series exploring San Francisco’s rich and diverse neighborhoods.
There are nearly ninety of them, each with its own story to tell. Every week, we highlight a different corner of The City, diving into its history, how it’s evolved, and the local nooks and crannies worth exploring. Our goal is to celebrate the neighborhoods that shaped this city we love, and the people and stories that continue to make it what it is today.

Welcome back to Part 2 of my Haight-Ashbury series. In Part 1, we dug into the neighborhood’s early beginnings. Today, we’re diving into the Haight’s most infamous years: the 1960s. Think counterculture, chaos, and the legends who put this neighborhood on the map.

By the mid-1960s, Haight-Ashbury had become the epicenter of the counterculture movement. A neighborhood alive with music, protest, and the kind of chaos that still echoes through its streets. The Grateful Dead lived here. So did Janis Joplin. Jimi Hendrix drifted through, the Hells Angels set up shop, and yes, even Charles Manson used the Haight as a hunting ground. If the neighborhood could talk, it would scream sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll.

Let’s set the scene. It’s 1967. You’re living on Ashbury Street. Charles Manson is just a few blocks away at 636 Cole, luring lost hippies into what would become his cult, “The Family.” The Hells Angels have a Queen Anne Victorian nearby, motorcycles lined out front, doubling as security for bands like Janis Joplin and the Dead until their reputation for violence pushed everyone to cut ties. And across the street? Music legends tuning up in painted Victorians.

The Grateful Dead were more than just neighbors. They were the soundtrack of the Haight. Bankrolled by Owsley Stanley, the chemist who pioneered LSD (yes, when it was still legal), the band leaned into psychedelics as both inspiration and performance fuel. Those iconic trippy dancing bears were a nod to their acid-soaked creativity. And the term 4:20? Bassist Phil Lesh is credited with helping popularize it as the official smoke time, a ritual that’s since gone global.

Of course, not all of their notoriety was celebratory. In 1967, the police staged a high-profile raid on the band’s house at 710 Ashbury. Eight narcotics agents, flanked by reporters and TV crews, stormed the Victorian in a scene that cemented the Dead’s place in counterculture history.

And then there was Janis Joplin. Raw, soulful, and larger than life. Her voice could shatter hearts, her presence lit up the Haight, and though her life was tragically cut short at 27, her spirit still feels embedded in these streets.

Today, Haight-Ashbury hasn’t lost its edge. The Victorians glow in bright colors, vintage shops spill onto the sidewalks, and record stores, dive bars, and bookstores keep the energy alive. Most of the hippies may have moved on, but the neighborhood’s soul, wild, artistic, and a little unruly, never left.

That’s only half the story. In Part 3, just in time for October, we’ll explore the haunted side of Haight-Ashbury: ghost stories, hidden headstones, and the spirits said to still linger.