Interesting and worthy sites devoted to the study of Los Angeles, California, as a place, populate the web---"Los Angeles Revisited" joins the ranks, to appeal to readers of L.A. and Southern California history on a popular level, but also to serve with educational merit---The blog title is a nod to those who write about and photograph the Los Angeles region and to acknowledge the historical palimpsest of our built communities.
The vacant former hospital on Soto Street near Fourth caught fire - again - the night of October 11th. The fire crew took just over one hour to contain the outbreak, but it seemed routine because it was the fourth fire in the last two years.
I was alerted by email from my brother informing me that the old Lincoln Hospital was damaged. It was where my brothers and I were born.
(Courtesy ONSCENE.TV)
Upon hearing about my personal connection to the fire, curiosity prompted photojournalist Gary Leonard to visit in the following days. Gary sent me a photo of Eileen Marquez, a passerby appropriately wearing a white top emblazoned with the words "Baby Girl." He humorously suggested that it was a nod to me - one of the many baby girls to have entered the world at Lincoln Hospital.
Eileen had told Gary that she attended Garfield High and was born at County Hospital. She was delighted to be photographed because her best friend was born at this hospital.
Eileen Marquez (Photo courtesy of Gary Leonard)
A Promising Future and a Promise Lost
In 1901 the Germans in Los Angeles celebrated the 30th anniversary of the German Empire, just as they had done in the city since 1871. This particular gathering was dedicated to raising funds to construct a German hospital. But their pocketbooks may not have been as full as their pride because it took an Irishman to help things along.
A fellow named Max Werner died of appendicitis in 1897 and in his will everything was left to his mother Louise back in Germany. Terms stipulated upon her death the estate would go to a New York City charity. Henry Workman Keller, son of pioneer merchant and rancher Mathew Keller, was Werner's executor. The will was contested, and the New York charity received only a fraction of the estate in 1898. When Louise died in 1903, the Los Angeles Herald reported that there were funds held in a bank earmarked for the German hospital.
Community leaders led by physician Joseph Kurtz swiftly set up a corporation called Deutscher Hospital Verein, or German Hospital Association. A year later, the groundbreaking was held in April, 1904. The Herald reported a two-story [sic] brick hospital building would extend from 435 to 451 South Soto Street. German national John Paul Krempel and Walter Erkes, an American, were the architects.
A cornerstone dedication ceremony was held the following month, and by October the new hospital was open for business to accommodate 24 patients.
German Hospital cornerstone (Photo courtesy of Gary Leonard)
Shown is the original building. Building improvements were done in 1922, 1923, 1927, 1964 and 1985. The 1927 expansion was the largest by adding over 19,000 square feet
Keller, a businessman and property investor, built a handsome two-story brick home in 1907 less than a mile away at Fourth and Boyle Streets. The showcase house had 18 rooms of which five of them were bathrooms.
Noteworthy Patients
In 1915 Lillie Mulholland, age 47, expired at the hospital. She was the wife of city engineer William Mulholland.
The Association made a decision to adopt a new name, Lincoln Hospital, in 1918.
Another patient in 1920 was Emil Harris, the city's first Jewish police chief. His name is well-associated with the history of the 1871 Chinese Massacre when he was an officer on duty as rioting broke out.
The hospital architect Paul Krempel continued with an active career in his adopted city. He resided on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. Yet when he suffered a heart attack, he was transported clear across town to be treated at Lincoln Hospital where he expired in September, 1933.
It is unclear to me when the hospital changed from a non-profit to an investor-owned hospital. The hospital's final years operated as Promise Hospital of East Los Angeles. Since the closing, a 2017 plan to build a charter elementary school fizzled.
Photo courtesy of Gary Leonard
Photo courtesy of Gary Leonard
My brothers, my mother and I pose for Gary
Photo courtesy of Gary Leonard
Photo courtesy of Gary Leonard
Photo courtesy of Gary Leonard
Photo courtesy of Gary Leonard
Photo courtesy of Gary Leonard
Photo by blogger
Photo by blogger
Photo by Gary Leonard
A view of the former Promise Hospital and its neighbor, Northgate Market. Photo by blogger
Two fire department officials stopped by on the Sunday morning
The rear of the original hospital building. Photo courtesy of Gary Leonard
Photo courtesy of Gary Leonard
Los Angeles Herald, October 3, 1904
Courtesy of California Digital Newspaper Collection, Center for Bibliographic Studies and Research, UC Riverside, <http://cdnc.ucr.edu>
Original brick from one of the building additions. Photo by blogger
During the visit to the former hospital grounds, squatters were entering and leaving the building without regard to the fencing and red tagging. Strewn on the pavement were personal articles belonging to adults and children.
Guest blogger, museum fossil hunter and mortician, Doug Goodreau has been chipping away to unbury Mortuary Row.
He is a Senior Paleontological Preparator at the Dinosaur Institute of the Natural History Museum in Exposition Park. Doug knows my neck of the woods very well, having previously worked for nine years at Rose Hills Memorial Park & Mortuary in Whittier - of which six years were on the "graveyard shift."
Here is what Doug has uncovered:
From Monster Movies to Mortuaries
I never intended to become a mortician. I moved to Los
Angeles in 1988 to attend a makeup effects school and work in the film
industry. Monster movies were my passion, or so I thought. In
between films I was always interested in seeking out references for the next
horror film I was going to work on. I approached every mortuary listed in the
yellow pages (remember, there was no internet), but I instead discovered none
of them would hire just any makeup artist, only embalmers from the mortuary
college. Hmmm, interesting - "Sign me up," I said to
myself.
After receiving my embalmer's license in 1991, I worked from small, family
owned mortuaries up to large corporations, enjoying the stability of a regular
paycheck and schedule. Coincidentally, it was around this same time I
began volunteering in our Museum's Vertebrate Paleontology Department preparing
fossils and applying the molding, casting and painting skills that I learned in
the film industry. Still wanting to learn more and challenge myself, I
heard by word of mouth, “trade embalming" was the thing to do; this was
only for the most seasoned experts and restorative artists (folks like me that
specialize in facial reconstruction on severely traumatized human remains) who
subcontract to all funeral homes throughout the Greater Los Angeles
Area and get paid well for doing so. Naturally, for me, I seized this
opportunity, but had no idea of the kind of experiences I'd have, nor the
eclectic group of living people I would work with and the stories they told me.
Doug Goodreau excavating an ichthyosaur skull in Nevada, September 2019 (Image provided by D. Goodreau)
Being the youngest trade embalmer for Schenk Professional
Services (with which I still work today) I was hazed as well as coached by hard
working men and women from all walks of life. Everyone brought their own
life experience to the funeral industry and always had a side hustle: some
staff were World War II, Korean, or Vietnam war veterans; one owned a hair
salon during normal business hours; another supported a professional car racing
hobby; one needed to moonlight temporarily from their full-time mortuary gig to
supplement putting their kids through college; or frankly they just needed the
cash.
The Good Ol' Days for Embalming
One recurring theme that I kept hearing from the old-timers was about a
legendary time and place in Los Angeles funeral history, a "good ol days
for embalming" as some embalmers refer to it with a smile as they reflect
back to what was once nicknamed Mortuary Row. This was an area uniquely
zoned for mortuaries from the early 1920's to the mid-50's, between what is now
the Staples Center and our very own Natural History Museum, which was home to
over 4O funeral parlors and related funeral industry businesses. More
specifically, the main streets were West Washington and Venice Boulevards
(going east to west) and loosely bordered by north/south running streets, Toberman
Street to the west, and Flower Street to the east.
Within a 16-block rectangular portion of the historic West Adams district, a
grieving family would commonly conduct business among a diversity of mortuaries
to serve their particular needs, and the casket could be loaded onto a trolley
car that had direct routes out to Rosedale or Evergreen cemeteries for
interment. At a time when most funeral homes lacked large refrigeration units
because these buildings were usually just homes converted into businesses,
everyone in our ever expanding population of Los Angeles was embalmed, that is,
intravenously injected with formaldehyde and other preservatives to disinfect,
preserve and restore human remains, along with dressing, cosmetics, hair
styling, and casketing, as opposed to the approximately 50 percent of cremation
that people opt for today. This kept embalmers busy! "How busy?” - you may
ask. It was so busy a coworker told me he would have a falling out with
one funeral director in the morning and get fired, or quit, go have lunch, and
get a job a couple doors down just by asking for work, no resume required. It
was a 24-hours, 7 days-a-week operation.
From Le Guide Francais de Los Angeles, 1932, p. 127 (Courtesy of the Seaver Center for Western History Research, Natural History Museum)
[Blogger's note: Godeau & Martinoni, pictured
above, was one example along the Row. Doug learned from co-workers that
Martinoni was known to change his name to "Martinian" in order to
market himself to the increasing Armenian population at the time. Today
the building is the headquarters for Giroux Glass, located at 850 West
Washington Boulevard.]
The former Godeau & Martinoni Mortuary, today Giroux Glass, Inc. (Image courtesy of Google Maps)
After
many years of working with all of these characters, listening to countless
details of this rich local history, and hearing their repeated stories until
they slowly began dying off, I realized I really needed to document this. It
wasn't until I was a little older that I truly began to value their collective
past, an era that will never repeat. I have so many friends and family that
simply wouldn't believe that this was how we did funerals per folks that are
still serving the public today. A few years ago I began sitting with
individuals to digitally record their oral histories, along with copious
note taking, fact checking their accounts, and asking a lot more questions: Who
started this "trade embalming” business model, and why was it so successful?
How many other morticians have done this and for how long? Were their stories
similar in any way to mine, or entirely different? What unexpectedly bizarre
events took place that were most memorable? Why did Mortuary Row come
to an end?
The Embalmer's Embalmer
A prime example from my project was a good friend, an embalmer’s embalmer, the
late Louie Brousseau. He
began his career as a trade embalmer in 1946, just after his tour of duty in
WWII. Louie lived above the Willen Glasband mortuary for a time. Armed
only with his instrument kit and the strongest work ethic I’ve ever
encountered, he started his own business. He soon met his wife at a dance hall
across the street, and raised three daughters in the apartment behind the
chapel here. This building happens to be located on the corner of Oak Street
and West Washington Boulevard, known as “the heart of Mortuary Row” by
industry professionals of that era. This building still exists as an
evangelical church and there are a few remaining buildings on the row that can
be easily identified based on the architecture (if you know what to look for).
Groman and Armstrong Family mortuaries are the only remaining two businesses
that still function as funeral homes, I still do occasional work at the latter.
I was fortunate enough to do a walking tour with Louie when he was an energetic
94, video recorded with the assistance of Chris Weisbart (former museum
exhibits staff), as he pointed out every mortuary that existed during the
heyday of the neighborhood, in addition to many other unrelated fun facts. For
instance, directly across, on the south side of the street, used to stand a
miniature golf course, next door to Rodger Young Auditorium (a former German
beer hall that was revamped post WWII for concern of Nazi sympathizers meeting
there, but the building is now demolished) where such big names as Jimmy
Durante and Judy Garland once performed. Next door, just west of that was
Bresee Brothers Mortuary (currently a charter school). Bresee Brothers
played a significant role in establishing the zoning for the funeral industry
in this vicinity. All the elderly embalmers I know spoke highly of their
facilities.
[Blogger's note: The Bresee Brothers were already established in 1898, and the brothers were Earnest and Phineas.]
Orr & Hines predated the zoning along Mortuary Row according to Doug From Los Angeles To-Day, circa 1900 (Courtesy of the Seaver Center, GC-1299.1-2)
The Cause of Death to Mortuary Row
Any number of factors contributed to the final death to
Mortuary Row: exponential population growth, corporate conglomerates buying up
the small, family owned businesses, cultural shift in long standing traditions,
as well as a few other rumors that I’m still following up. Regardless of the
reason, city planners declared eminent domain, deciding to build a freeway
interchange directly on top of the entire area, forever changing that portion
of the West Adams District. Most funeral homes shut down, or were bought
out, some successfully moved out of the area, others moved out, but came back
in the near vicinity, while some even stayed the course and remained put.
Unfortunately, today one can see many homeless encampments under these freeway
overpasses, some sparse gentrification, a lot of graffiti; a general overall
decline in neighborhood quality that freeways often bring to surrounding
residents.
Santa Monica Freeway work looking east from Hoover Street, 1961 (Image courtesy of Los Angeles Examiner Photographs Collection, USC Libraries)
Here is the 10 Santa Monica freeway being constructed and intersecting the 110 Harbor freeway. You may recognize the Bob Hope
Patriotic Hall, tallest building off to the upper right, nearest the
intersection, on Figueroa, for reference. Willen Glasband Mortuary is the white
building dead center of the photo, along Washington Blvd., bisecting the shot
diagonally from left to right.
The Research and "Digging" Continues
My
research has included going through thousands of photos in several collections,
studying city maps and records. I even took a trip out
to the Orange Empire Railway Museum in Perris, where they fully restored the
“Descanso” – one of a handful of specially designed trolley cars for the
funeral industry. It’s been really effective contacting descendants of all the
mortuary owners previously in the Mortuary Row area for interviews
because there is little to no physical evidence that many of these businesses
existed other than old phone book advertisements and/or obituaries in old
newspapers. Of course, I keep my eyes peeled for any footage in old films and
classic T.V. series that may include filming in and around buildings that no
longer exist. The ultimate goal here is to publish a book on the subject.
I always appreciate any suggestions that folks have to improve and add to my search
in an effort to paint a more complete picture of this particular morbid,
but interesting part of our collective past. If anyone reading this happens to already be aware of Mortuary Row, have related stories they’re
comfortable sharing, and/or funerary ephemera (i.e. photos of the businesses
& funerals in this area, fans, postcards, matchbook covers,
etc.) please don't hesitate to reach out to me: dgoodrea@nhm.org.
Thanks Doug!
One last bit from Doug if you really want to time travel back - view the YouTube segment of the television show CHiPs showing aerial views of the area that includes Mortuary Row as well as the California Highway Patrol's actual Central Los Angeles Area headquarters at 777 W. Washington Boulevard. Doug pointed out Godeau & Martinoni can be seen at the top of the frame (last building to the right on Washington Boulevard) while pausing at the end of the two-minute point.
Doug pictured leading the trek through a Utah sandstorm in 2009 (Image provided by D. Goodreau)
Chipping away at the Gnatalie quarry in Utah to dig up sauropod material, 2013 (Image provided by D. Goodreau)
Cameron Lane is an ancient 1885 alley running west to east from Figueroa to Grand in Downtown Los Angeles. Two other alleys intersect it - Pembroke Lane begins here, and Lebanon Street runs through.
Long ago two other "lanes" ran parallel to Pembroke: Alexander Lane and Catesby Lane. Alexander was absorbed as a continuation of Lebanon Street in 1917. Catesby is non-existent today, but shows in the 1955 map page below.
From Thomas Bros. Popular Atlas of Los Angeles County and Orange County, 1955 (Courtesy of blogger's collection) (Click to zoom)
All the "lanes" ran within the Cameron Tract, a subdivision developed by Cameron Erskine Thom (1825-1915) as the Los Angeles land boom was getting started. From the scholarly research of David Pembroke Neff's dissertation The Thom Family of Culpeper County, I learned that Cameron told a magazine in 1912 that he picked up the land bounded by Figueroa, Pico, Grand and Washington for the sum of $153 back in 1855.
Cameron E. Thom (Image courtesy of the Seaver Center for Western History Research, Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County)
In learning about details of Thom's family it becomes clear that the street names were family namesakes. His brothers and his own children had Pembroke and Catesby as part of their names. Alexander Thom was his paternal Scottish Highland grandfather (and member of the Clan Cameron of Lochiel) who escaped in 1746 to an American colony in exile.
Today, designation of Cameron Lane enjoys some overkill, as there is a street sign in front of the Los Angeles Convention Center on Figueroa Street. But the Lane's beginning point is actually across the street as seen in the below picture.
A view looking north on Figueroa Street
GROWING UP WITH SLAVES IN THE FAMILY
Alexander Thom - Cameron's Grandfather
Alexander Thom participated in a failed attempt to expel the British from Scotland in a battle known as Culloden Moor. This prompted him and fellow Cameron clansmen to set sail from Lanarkshire, Scotland to Leedstown, Virginia in 1746. In short summary, at age 48 he married the daughter from a planter family with means. In 1768, the year of their marriage, also marked the first occurrence on record that Alexander owned slaves. In 1784 the Thom slave holdings increased with his wife's inheritance. (Many details of this blog post are gleaned from a dissertation by descendant, David Pembroke Neff, The Thom Family of Culpeper County).
John Thom - Cameron's Father
Alexander's son, John Watson Triplett Thom, inherited the Culpeper County tobacco-producing property when he died in 1791, which included at least 12 slaves under age 12 and nine slaves who were older than 16. John Thom's wealth enabled him to purchase neighboring land, consolidated to be known as "Berry Hill." John's stature throughout his life did not rest on wealth alone - he was a captain in the War of 1812 and held a senatorial seat in Virginia lasting 30 years.
John Thom had two marriages. His first produced three children (John Catesby, Warner Lewis & Lucy Lewis). His second marriage was to Abigail DeHart Mayo (another distinguished Virginia family associated with Powhatan). The six children completed his legacy: Elizabeth Mayo, Janet Marion, William Alexander, Cameron Erskine, Joseph Pembroke and Abby DeHart Mayo.
Secret Slave Offspring of Alexander and John Thom
Late author-journalist Scott Christianson explored the Thom family's connection to the life of runaway slave Charles Nalle in Freeing Charles (University of Illinois Press, 2010). Charles has remained in the public knowledge in part due to a plaque in downtown Troy, New York, where his rescue in 1860 took place.
Christianson connected Charles and his wife Kitty through their respective slave masters Blucher Hansbrough and John Thom. Christianson wrote that Blucher and the light-skinned Charles were half-brothers (contending Charles was conceived by Blucher's father).
Christianson explained that slave marriages were not legal in Virginia, but Charles was able to marry Kitty within customs between the two slaveholders. His book maintains that Kitty and her mother Fanny Simms held preferential status in the Thom household because Fanny and John Thom had an extramarital relationship.
(John Thom's death in 1855 unleashed turmoil to the slave household as paying estate debts entailed slave-trading to settle scores. The couple were never able to live together. But Charles Nalle's wife Kitty and their five children were eligible for manumission (a situation that freed them but propelled them far away from Berry Hill by law, and away from Charles).
Colonization of Freed Slaves in Pennsylvania
In 1908 Cameron (at about age 73) wrote to Beverley B. Munford detailing his father's attempt in 1839 to colonize a group of his slaves without success. This recollection was included in Munford's Virginia's Attitude Toward Slavery and Secession (Longman's, Green and Co., 1909). Cameron would have been 14 years old at the time to recall that clothing, tools and provisions were allocated, along with land selected in advance to establish a new colony of 18 slaves in Pennsylvania. Only one person was willing to go so the rest had to be conscripted, but it was a failed venture - within a week two members returned to Berry Hill plantation and within a year nearly all returned.
Neff''s dissertation examined John Thom's practice to go against the grain by employing free black laborers in addition to slaves. At a later time following the failed venture of 1839, he would attempt again to manumit some of his slaves. The dissertation points to his own declining financial circumstances that possibly made manumission to be John's advantage.
Body Servants
When each of his children left the family nest, John Thom provided a send-off in the amount of $1,000, a thoroughbred horse and one body servant. For Cameron, he chose Dave Lycurgus, who was Cameron's playmate as a youngster. A Works Progress Administration (WPA-produced) historical account of Cameron from 1938 described his body servant as they traveled to see Cameron's sisters in 1848. Dave managed to purchase his own freedom before the age of 25, according to the WPA account.
Cameron Thom Goes West to California
24-year old Cameron was intrigued with the California gold rush. He finished college and seemed bound for a law career, but he took off to California as his imaginations was sparked by adventures awaiting. The new hard life yielded little gold to support the steep cost of eating and living.
His 1849 gold-rush chronicles of his emigrant trail overland experiences are preserved at the Huntington Library in San Marino. Since his drive to go west was prompted less by a financial need, his travel accommodations were richly appointed for its day: the 30 male Argonauts in canvas-roofed, mule-drawn wagons, eight "negro cooks and wagon men," riding horses, arms, ammunition, two fiddlers, three banjoists and even a platform for dancing.
The soured mining experience prompted him to turn to other livelihoods as he quickly made use of his jurisprudence training. He became a agent for the U.S. Land Office in Northern California, sorting out claims that native Californios were required to prove (as stipulated by the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo after the U.S. War with Mexico). Some of the land hearings were held in southern California, and we now know his trip here led him to settle permanently in Los Angeles to build his life, career and family. (It is of note that when President James K. Polk waged war with Mexico in 1846, Cameron and his younger brother Joseph Pembroke signed on to fight.)
THE FORGOTTEN L.A. PIONEER
Arriving in the city in 1854, he soon relinquished the job with the Land Office and was elected as District Attorney, a position he held until 1858. He was also city attorney simultaneously from 1856 til 1858. (The Los Angeles County website also lists his service as DA 1869-1873 and 1877-1879.) He served as city Mayor from 1882-1884.
He became Senator for the district encompassing a huge swath of southern California. During the two-year term from 1859 to 1860, he introduced a controversial bill enabling German colonists to make real estate transactions and cultivate land - that enabled for the town of Anaheim to be formed.
As mentioned previously, Cameron in 1855 invested in the tract of land near today's Convention Center for which two extant street names were established in the late 1880s, Cameron and Pembroke Lanes are tangible remnants of his life here.
His personal life in California had many downturns as he survived two wives who died in their twenties. With his second wife, Susan Henrietta Hathwell (1839-1862), they produced three children who also did not survive.
THE CONFEDERACY AND LIFE AFTER THE CIVIL WAR
Allegiance with Virginia
In Neff's dissertation, he argues that upon the death of his wife Susan Henrietta in 1862, Cameron moved closer to a decision of returning to Virginia to support the Confederacy. His older brother William Alexander and his younger brother Joseph Pembroke also joined as Surgeon and Captain respectively. Cameron became a volunteer officer as Captain. When the Confederates fell, he surrendered at Petersburg and soon rode by ship back to Los Angeles.
Restarting
Back in the city, he was shut out of practicing law because he fought against the Union. After he was pardoned by President Andrew Johnson in June, 1865 he was able to resume, and he again held offices in subsequent years as DA and L.A. Mayor.
He resumed friendships with men who fought for the Union as well as the Confederacy, including General Edward Ord.
Cameron also became a proponent in the movement to divide California into two states.
Rioting on the night of October 24, 1871 pitted those in the Chinese quarters against a mob. Cameron was one of the white men who attempted to stop the violence. An outnumbered Chinese community saw 19 men and boys dead in the Chinese Massacre, a news event that overtook the Chicago Fire.
He also re-married in 1874 to the sister of his deceased second wife. Belle Cameron Hathwell (1859-1924) bore four children: Cameron DeHart, Catesby Charles, Erskine Pembroke and daughter Belle Buford.
Cameron, along with his attorney nephew Erskine Mayo Ross, and several other individuals were involved with the founding of Glendale in the 1880s. Interesting note: Erskine married heiress Ida Hancock in 1906.
Sources:
Cameron Erskine Thom, by Clare Wallace (Municipal Reference Library, March 15, 1938)
Freeing Charles: the Struggle to Free a Slave on the Eve of the Civil War, by Scott Christianson (University of Illinois, 2010)
The Thom Family of Culpeper County: The Rise, Fall, and Restoration of a Nineteenth Century Virginia Planter Family, 1746-1935, by David Pembroke Neff (M.A. dissertation, Georgetown University, 1998)
Virginia's Attitude Toward Slavery and Secession, by Beverley B. Munford (Longman's, Green and Co., 1909)
Looking east on Cameron Lane from Figueroa
Looking west on Cameron Lane towards the Los Angeles Convention Center
Antiquated brick building along Cameron Lane
Pembroke Lane (Courtesy of Google Maps)
View of the rest of Pembroke Lane (Courtesy of Google Maps)
Today marks nearly two ominous weeks of unrest following the death of the latest victim of systemic racism against black men, Mr. George Floyd. The depths of strife are acknowledged alongside this donut story - a journey sprung from the depths of the Cambodian genocide in the 1970s.
Happy National Doughnut Day, 2020!
Today is appropriate to bring attention to a documentary film, "The Donut King," focused on the "rise" of Cambodian mom-and-pop donut shops across southern California and the U.S. beginning in the mid-1970s.
Heartening is the film's intimate look at the king, Ted Ngoy, and his immediate and extended family. Also the film explores the business strategies of the East Coast-based Dunkin' Donuts and the longtime, southern California establishment, Winchell Donuts.
Previously posts on LosAngelesRevisited:
National Doughnut Day, June 1, 2018, "Vintage Donuts L.A. on National Doughnut Day 2018"
National Donut Day, November 5, 2019 "Randy's Make a Donut Whole in Downey, Cal."
Joseph Blackstock, Ambassador for the Billboard He was researcher and archivist for Foster and Kleiser, later known as Patrick Media/Eller Media/Clear ChannelCourtesy of Joe Blackstock, Jr.
Joe and I never met. He was always years ahead of me: observing the surroundings of L.A. with a historical lens; archiving documents and photographs; and uncovering little known histories, say of, local business women like Mary See and Laura Scudder. He was onto compiling the origins of the city street names at least 20 years before me. Yet that is how we "met"...through our mutual interest in city street names.
The Soto Street Mystery
You see in 1980 Joseph Blackstock wrote to the Historical Society of Southern California and explained that in his line of work he came across historical information on how certain streets got their names. When the Society donated a major chunk of their collections to the Natural History Museum in 2018, I took notice of his four-page letter - an item out of the 6,000 plus items in the inventory.
A fragment shown of page one of the letter Historical Society of Southern California Collection Courtesy of the Seaver Center for Western History Research, Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County
Historical Society of Southern California Collection Courtesy of the Seaver Center
While quarantined in my house, I recently came across a photocopy of the letter. The most intriguing street name on Joe's list was Soto Street - named for Lozaro R. Soto. While I researched this information upon initially seeing his letter, I got to work again, trying to substantiate this attribution, but once more I was stumped. Hmmm...Joe did not appear to be sloppy in his street names work, so for now it remains a mystery. In 2017 I had already blogged my own theory of how Soto Street got its name.
Alameda Street Versus Melrose Avenue
I was now very curious, who was Joe?? Was he still living? I learned he was no longer with us. But from reading a human interest piece about Joe in a 1988 Los Angeles Times newspaper article, I got to know him. Wow, he was into "street furniture," and he favored Alameda Street over Melrose! My kind of guy.
(Click on image to enlarge) Courtesy of ProQuest Los Angeles Times Historical Archives
One Person’s Trash Is Everyone’s Treasure
I emailed his son, also named Joseph, and discovered the apple did not fall far from the tree. Son Joe retired from the Inland Empire's Daily Bulletin after a 48-year run as a news journalist. He continues to write a weekly history column for which he has chalked up over 750 stories in 21 years with most of the pieces centered geographically around western San Bernardino County. His column has also been picked up by another paper, San Bernardino Sun.
Joe revealed to me how his father strove to preserve historical matter:
My dad died in 1998. In the previous 15 or 20 years he was very active in donating historic documents to their appropriate places. Dad left work one day at Foster & Kleiser and noticed a bunch of boxes sitting in the trash. It turned out to be thousands of negatives and prints of F&K billboards of the past. What someone didn't realize that the billboards were in historic locations all over the area. Dad was shocked and grabbed all of them for safety. These were donated all over the area, the most going to the Los Angeles Public Library.
A well-known landscape photographer was a friend of Dad's and when he died, Dad got all of his photos. They also were distributed to their appropriate school or historical society. Thousands of LA area photos were saved because of his interest. And, of course, he would never think of taking a cent for them, even if they were offered.
I recall he told me some of the outfield ads used in the motion picture "The Natural" were taken from old-time billboard ads he provided the studio.
Joe’s son dropped the next clue about his dad!
The Los Angeles Public Library Photo Database has 262 images from the Blackstock Negative Collection. These are scenes of bygone cityscapes and outlying areas, including one photo of Wilshire Boulevard in 1920 with the focus on a roadside billboard for tires. The rest of the images saved from the trash heap by Joe - and now in the care of the Central Library - were taken between 1930 and 1969. Often they include Foster & Kleiser billboards in the camera's viewpoint of the latest automobiles; brandy, scotch and whisky; and more tires. There is one night shot of the Wiltern Theatre, and there are aerials from the late 1960s including Disneyland. Today these important photographs are often used and cited by historians and the public-at-large. Are there more negatives yet to be processed by the Library?
Wilshire Boulevard, 1920 Blackstock Negative Collection Courtesy of the Los Angeles Public Library
Joe, Jr. Gets the Exclusive
Joe’s son took up my offer to be a guest blogger. Here is what he wrote about his father:
He was born in New York in 1921, the son of Scottish immigrants. His father -- Joseph, like Dad and myself -- was a veteran of WWI in the British Army. He also spent time working as a steward and other jobs on British cruise ships and other vessels. My grandfather crossed the Atlantic 132 times, including their 1919 immigration from Scotland to America.
They moved briefly to snowy Wyoming and arrived in Claremont about 1922, later moving to Compton and then Montebello. He graduated from Montebello High in 1938.
Dad really wanted to be a writer, I am sure of it. He studied it for a while at Pasadena Junior College. But he was hired in 1940 for a job as an office boy at Foster & Kleiser Outdoor Advertising and never left. He was still working part-time doing research for the company (which had changed hands a couple of times) in 1998 when he passed away. It’s not often that anyone works for the same firm for 58 years.
But he never regretted how his life turned out -- he had a remarkable optimistic outlook on life. Never look back or worry about what might have been. I never saw him angry -- a little upset at times maybe -- and he never spoke negatively about anybody. He would have little signs at his desk reminding him of the need to do good and be better. I remember one of them was about never putting off things -- it said, “Do it Now.” As a boy I really didn’t appreciate what it meant -- but as an adult it found myself subscribing to the value of such advice.
Later on, as my brother and I came along, he would do things on the weekend that the whole family thought of as fun. Mom and my brother and I each had our own clipboards. We would log survey information down the length of a street, detailing locations of billboards, gas stations, markets and such -- all details which he would compile for salesmen. Fortunately, most of these streets headed south, so we often spent at least one day each weekend at the beach or a nearby park.
On our weekend trips we might also go to Point Fermin or Watts Towers or Mount Wilson or White Point. I never realized that most families never even knew of these places. He made it fun learning about things -- to recognize street names like Figueroa or Sepulveda or Rowland and know who they were, or to understand about Drum Barracks or the Queen Anne Cottage at the Arboretum. The past can always be fun and interesting if it isn’t just names and dates crammed down your throat like it is in some classrooms.
My dad couldn’t do math to save his life. When I was in 6th grade, he would bring population figures to me one or twice a year and I would calculate percentage changes for him. I didn’t realize how odd this was for somebody my age until years later. I have always loved maps, so he would bring maps home with addresses and I would plot them on large maps which would be photographed and used in sales presentations. At a time before Xerox machines, he would occasionally ask me to copy information from a publication for his history files, work that encouraged my interest in the past. Honestly, it was a big deal for me to be asked to help him in his work.
Dad seemed to have an interest in women of the past -- Mary See of See’s Candies or Laura Scudder or Aimee Semple McPherson. He would read about them and recognized their uniqueness in a world dominated by men. He wrote what I believe is the only real biography of Laura Scudder and her first potato chip business in Monterey Park. It’s rubbed off on me as well -- I am always looking for a column subject about women, mostly because it is just so hard finding out about them.
Because of his interest in the past, thousands of old photos of Los Angeles are today available in various collections. He rescued discarded boxes of old Foster & Kleiser photos taken of LA street scenes -- most of which today are in the Los Angeles Public Library. Other collections he acquired went to the appropriate locations for future benefit. While living in Alhambra, he became president of the Monterey Park Historical Society.
He was an outstanding public speaker and often traveled across the country to make key speeches about outdoor advertising to major advertisers. When there was a big convention, the billboard industry called Dad and had him give an always-interesting sales talk about outdoor advertising. When he stopped working full-time in 1993, he was inducted into the Outdoor Advertising National Hall of Fame.
Meanwhile, I worked for newspapers in Monterey Park, East LA, West Covina, Pasadena, Riverside and Ontario, doing probably just what he had initially planned to do with his life. I spent 48 years as a reporter and editor before retiring not long ago.
Spurred on by Dad’s writings and interest, I began writing a local history column for the Inland Valley Daily Bulletin in Ontario in October 1998. It started twice a month, moved to weekly, and today -- more than 21 years later -- I am still writing it, though back to twice-monthly. The column now also appears in the Sun in San Bernardino.
Ironically, my first column appeared only 4 or 5 weeks before Dad’s sudden death. But I really do think there’s a little bit of Dad in each of the more than 750 local history pieces that I have written. It’s all about the desire he felt to tell Southern Californians about the many fascinating people, places and events that explain how and why we do things today.
It’s directed to all those people who never had a Dad who would take them to all the cool places in Southern California.
-- Joe Blackstock Jr.
Joe, Jr.'s favorite photo of his dad in front of F&K logo Courtesy of Joe Blackstock, Jr.
Joe’s Journal
Courtesy of Joe Blackstock, Jr.
Pictured above is Joe on New Year's day of 1946 while he and his wife, Doris, waited for the Rose Parade. Joe, Jr. says his dad was a big reader, especially newspapers. "He'd read the Times in the morning and then buy the Herald-Express on his way home from work.
In 1958, columnist Gene Sherman appreciated Joe's writing skills.
(Click on image to enlarge) Los Angeles Times, July 21, 1958 Courtesy of ProQuest Los Angeles Times Historical Archives
Joe Remembers Laura Scudder
From 1996 to 1997 I lasted about seven months at the public library in Monterey Park. During my time there I picked up on the fact that a celebrated local resident, Laura Scudder, successful operated a potato chip factory in the vicinity. Years later I included Laura in a 2011 blog post on historic food products.
Once again, Joe was there in Monterey Park, more than 20 years ahead of me. His involvement with the local historical society and his passion for stories on contributions by women led to the 1974 publication of a volume on Laura Scudder, released the summer I graduated from high school.
Cover to Report on Laura Scudder Courtesy of Joe Blackstock, Jr.
There is a strong chance that Joe was the brainchild behind a sidewalk plaque near Laura's former potato chip operation at Atlantic and Garvey Boulevards. But during my visit to the same spot a couple of years ago, the plaque was gone.
Courtesy of Blogger
More Photos of Joe
L to R: Unidentified man, Doris, Joe, and Joe, Jr., ca. 1970 in Los Angeles Courtesy of Joe Blackstock, Jr.
Joe, Jr. and his Dad Courtesy of Joe Blackstock, Jr.
Joe and Joe, ca. 1985 or 1990 Courtesy of Joe Blackstock, Jr.
At the office, ca. 1990s Courtesy of Joe Blackstock, Jr.
Joe conducting a sales presentation. Courtesy of Joe Blackstock, Jr.
He also gave tours of the F& K plant and was a popular speaker about outdoor advertising, Los Angeles, and local history. Joe, said his son, not only told the story of the value of billboards, but also their value given the unique circumstances in Los Angeles with the automobile the main source of travel.
Joe in front of a paint board at F&K Courtesy of Joe Blackstock, Jr.
According to Joe, Jr., skilled muralists would paint the large boards at the plant, and then they would be installed throughout the area. Since then, painting of boards has long been abandoned for printing on sheets of plastic.
Aerial photo of the Foster and Kleiser plant, 1967
at 1550 W. Washington Blvd. now demolished Blackstock Negative Collection Courtesy of the Los Angeles Public Library
Mini-Bill
The Natural History Museum updated their California History Hall in the 1980s. The Hall has since been closed. Several years ago in the exhibit work files I discovered a miniature Foster and Kleiser billboard.
Since I have come to know the ad man Joseph Blackstock, I would like to think that this historian had a hand in providing the mini-bill - as a salesman's model. Once again I trailed behind Joe by about 20 years.
