At the Regillus, Sam Williams will greet you with a warm smile and a "How are you, today?" and will carry up your groceries. Across the street at the Lake Royal, Felton White will bring you the morning newspaper and chat politics and football. And at the Bellevue-Staten, Vinod Kumar will bring your car around when you want to go out.
They are the doormen of Oakland: a well-loved and ever-growing cadre of uniformed, helpful and highly discreet professionals who are more reminiscent of 1920s Manhattan than the modern Bay Area. But, as a sure sign Oakland is changing, at least nine residential buildings now have doormen and doorwomen. Not security guards.
"A doorman brings a sense of life and community to a building," said Desiree Felger, an Oakland real estate agent who lived at the Regillus, an elegant 1924 building next to Lake Merritt, for many years. "It's for people who want certain amenities, and not necessarily a gym."
Doormen perform many functions. They deliver packages to your doorstep, change lightbulbs in the common areas, open the door for visitors and residents, and generally keep an eye on things. They know who's on vacation, who's supposed to be in the building and who's not.
But their primary role is more subtle, and infinitely more artful: They provide smiles and conversation, but they also know when to keep quiet.
"Discretion? Oh, you've got to have that. If you don't have that, you'd be out the door," said White, 77, who's worked at the Lake Royal for 15 years.
White, who's lived in Oakland since he was 6, spent most of his career as a warehouse supervisor at Colgate-Palmolive. These days, he's king of the Lake Royal, a sleek 1960s-style building on 19th Street with 56 units and stunning views of the lake.
On a recent Monday, he oversaw contractors' comings and goings, nibbled at a plate of cookies brought by a resident, and analyzed the Super Bowl with visitors.
"There's lots of great people in this building, and some of them are aging, so I try to look after them. Knowing people, being nice, that's what I do," he said. "And they're nice to me, too."
Doormen are not cheap. Homeowners' fees at buildings with doormen can range from $500 to $1,000 a month, about double the rates at non-doormen buildings.
But residents say it's worth it. Single women, older people and those who travel frequently said they appreciate the comfort and security of having a responsible professional on site.
When asked the difference between a security guard and a doorman, Felger thought for a moment and said, "Doormen you tip at Christmas, and security guards you don't. Doormen know your name, and you know their name. You know each other's families. They look out for you, and you look out for them. They're like family."
Sam "Smiling Sam" Williams, 77, has been holding court in the stately lobby of the Regillus since 1988. He checks the chandeliers every morning, turns on the gas fireplace, checks for spills and, at least once a day, walks the halls to make sure everything is OK.
"I've seen so many things, I could write a book. Of course I'd have to change the names," he said.
Around the corner at the Essex, a new 270-unit high-rise, Katrina McAdoo says "Good morning, have a great day" to every resident as they leave for the day.
"You can change a person's whole day just by saying hello. That's what I've learned," said McAdoo, 28. "This isn't Walmart or Lucky. This is people's home. When you get off work, and you've had a long day, you want to see a friend. We're here for that, even if it's just to say a simple 'Hello.'"
Across the lake is perhaps Oakland's most grand residential building, the Bellevue-Staten, a 1929 Art Deco palace that's on the National Register of Historic Places. Kumar, a native of Fiji who's worked at the Bellevue-Staten about a year, said the job is fulfilling.
"You get to know the residents, and their family and friends. I like meeting new people," he said. "You have to be punctual, trustworthy, friendly. And you have to be very, very careful with their cars."
Robbie Grant, who lives at the Bellevue-Staten with her husband and miniature schnauzer, gave Kumar a hug when she returned home one day last week.
"He's so helpful and friendly," she said. "It's like you have a buddy."
Carolyn Jones is a San Francisco Chronicle staff writer. E-mail: carolynjones@sfchronicle.com
