Coin washer keeps Westin St. Francis' change shiny

To rid the coins of the birdshot, Rob Holsen runs them over a large sifting device Monday December 20, 2010. Rob Holsen may be the only professional coin washer in the United States. He washes coins for the Westin St. Francis Hotel in Union Square, San Francisco, Calif., a tradition which began to keep ladies white gloves from getting tarnished back in the 1930s. less To rid the coins of the birdshot, Rob Holsen runs them over a large sifting device Monday December 20, 2010. Rob Holsen may be the only professional coin washer in the United States. He washes coins for the ... more Photo: Brant Ward, The Chronicle Photo: Brant Ward, The Chronicle Image 1 of / 9 Caption Close Coin washer keeps Westin St. Francis' change shiny 1 / 9 Back to Gallery

In a small, windowless room in the bowels of the Westin St. Francis hotel on Union Square, Rob Holsen washes the hotel's money.

Every penny, nickel, dime and quarter.

Three times a week, Holsen soaps, rinses, dries and rolls money. He estimates that $1.5 million in spare change has passed through his hands in the past 20 years.

"That's a lot of pieces of money," Holsen said as he began a recent cleaning.

Since 1938, all the coins the St. Francis acquires through its cafe, restaurants and bars - all of it tarnished by the grime of the outside world - has made its way through the cleaning closet before it leaves the hotel bright and shiny.

It's believed the St. Francis is the only hotel to continue the practice, which started in the 1930s as a courtesy to guests.

"It's a connection to a different time," Holsen said as he rolled up his sleeves and tucked his tie into his dress shirt. "A connection to a more gentle time, when to go downtown was a big deal. Dress up, put on a hat and gloves, and go to Macy's."

Money washing at the St. Francis began in 1938 when hotelier Dan London noticed that coins dirtied a woman's white gloves.

"Coins were used to pay for lunch tabs," Holsen said, "tips, taxi rides, everything. It was rare to use a bill."

31 years of washing

Arnold Batliner was the most storied coin washer at the St. Francis. Batliner, a beloved employee who earned a day of recognition in his honor from Mayor Frank Jordan upon his retirement in 1993, held the position for 31 years. He passed on the craft to Holsen. Batliner died in 1995, but to this day, hotel employees still take a break on his birthday at 11 a.m. to celebrate with champagne and cake, Holsen said.

Inside the washing room, nicknamed "Arnold's Office," Holsen keeps a few of Batliner's personal items hanging above the drying table: his name badge, his eyeglasses and a toothbrush.

"Arnold probably washed $14 million in his time," Holsen said.

But change has changed with the times.

The St. Francis lobby once housed a bank of pay phones, and soda machines lined the floors. Now, with the soda machines long gone and pay phones obsolete, less pocket change enters the building.

Batliner ran the coin-washing operation full time. Holsen runs it about 10 hours a week.

Setting up the coin washer

The process begins when the general cashier sends racks of rolled coins to Holsen, who empties the change into a repurposed silver burnisher.

Along with the coins, the burnisher is filled with water, bird shot to knock the dirt off, and a healthy pour of 20 Mule Team Borax soap. After three hours of swishing the coins around, Holsen uses a metal ice scoop to pour the loot into a perforated roast pan that sifts out the bird shot.

The wet coins are then spread out on a table beneath heat lamps.

This is where once-rusted copper pennies turn into shimmering bronze coins. Quarters look like sparkling silver bits. It's also where Holsen gives the money a quick quality inspection.

The newly designed nickels that trade in the familiar image of Monticello on the back for homages to the Louisiana Purchase and the Lewis and Clark expedition do not impress him.

"They look counterfeit to me," Holsen said. "And it took me forever to get over it when they changed the backs of quarters to honor the states."

Some coins tossed

Some pennies are beyond saving. They're bent or mutilated by vandals. One penny Holsen pulled from his box of misfits had a crucifix punched out of its center. Slugs, Canadian coins and painted quarters also don't make it past Holsen.

Once he's satisfied, he feeds the polished money into a counter, which shoots the change into paper rolls to be distributed to the hotel's cash registers.

From there, they return to the hands of the guests.

"There was a time," Holsen said, "when a cabdriver could look at a person after they paid their fare and ask, 'So, how was your stay at the St. Francis?' "