Local History – Page 5 – LAPL Photo Friends

A Quiet Evening with a Quick Death — The Demise of Bugsy Siegel

June 22, 2017 by Annie Murphy

On June 20, 1947, Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel, the East Coast mobster who had relocated to and prospered in Los Angeles and was now intent on building up Las Vegas, sat in his girlfriend’s living room in Beverly Hills. He chatted with his long-time friend and associate, Allen Smiley, while reading the Los Angeles Times. Suddenly, shots exploded through the front window. An unknown assailant wielding an M-1 carbine had fired point blank at the couch. Smiley took three bullets through the sleeve of his jacket, while Siegel took many more bullets, including two to the head. Smiley lived and became an oilman in Houston. Siegel died immediately. The assailant disappeared into the night. The crime was never solved.

The photo archives of the Los Angeles Public Library provide a photographic history of Bugsy Siegel’s life in Los Angeles (including its end), giving viewers a glimpse into a life that was as glamorous as it was dangerous.

Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel was the second child born to Jennie and Max Siegel, poor Jewish immigrants from Russia who had settled in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn. Determined to overcome the poverty that permeated his life, Bugsy became a bootlegger, strong arm, and hitman in his teens. He became successful and enjoyed a cultivated life, visiting swanky New York nightclubs and wearing custom tailored suits.

In 1936, Siegel moved with his wife, Esta Krakower (also known as Esther or Estelle), and their daughters, Millicent and Barbara, to Los Angeles. Though the couple would eventually divorce and Siegel’s ex-wife and daughters would move back to New York, Siegel’s ex-wife always insisted that her ex-husband was a good man who helped others.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photograph taken June 22, 1947, by Art Worden.

Siegel was known for his fearlessness, his quick reflexes, and his prowess with guns. He was linked to the deaths of many rival gangsters, including Joe Masseria, Salvatore Maranzano, three brothers in the Fabrizzo family, and Harry “Big Greenie” Greenberg, who was his personal friend.

Here, Siegel grabs a cup of water during a break in his trial for the murder of Harry Greenberg (aka Harry Schachter), a friend of Siegel and employee of mobsters Lucky Luciano and Meyer Lansky. Greenberg was murdered in Hollywood on Thanksgiving of 1939. Siegel was acquitted of his death and no one was ever convicted for the killing.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo taken on October 13, 1941.

Siegel worked in various endeavors in Southern California including the numbers racket (an illegal lottery), prostitution, and the U.S./Mexico drug trade. As charming as he was brutal, he became a fixture in Hollywood nightlife, hobnobbing with politicians, businessmen, attorneys, and entertainment figures including Cary Grant, Clark Gable, Gary Cooper, Frank Sinatra, and Louis B. Mayer.

This photo shows George Raft at the Desert Inn, a popular resort in Palm Springs. Raft was a very good friend of Bugsy Siegel and even testified on his behalf in court. It is curious to note that Raft portrayed a gangster in many movies of the 1930s and 1940s (including the original Scarface) and was so convincing that many speculated that he truly was a gangster. While he denied any involvement with organized crime, Raft was indeed friends with many mob figures. In 1967, he was refused entry to the United Kingdom due to his association with the Mafia.

Security Pacific National Bank Collection, photographed in 1930.

Actress Jean Harlow was godmother to Siegel’s oldest daughter, Millicent.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo taken on September 27, 1928.

Virginia Hill was born in Lipscomb, Alabama, on August 26, 1916. After running away from home at 17 (wearing the first pair of shoes she claimed she ever owned), she landed in Chicago and found work delivering messages and packages for gangsters. She eventually secured steady employment in the accounting office of Al Capone. She moved to Los Angeles, met Siegel, and became romantically involved with him in 1942. He nicknamed her “The Flamingo”. (It was rumored that he named the Las Vegas hotel after Hill, but the resort was actually named the Flamingo by a previous investor.) Some years after Siegel was murdered, Hill was ordered to testify in front of the Kefauver Committee, a Senate committee conducting hearings to explore the reach of organized crime. She eventually moved to Europe where she married, raised a son, and died on March 24, 1966, in Austria. (The cause of death was ruled to be suicide.)

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo dated November 21, 1939.

Despite his success in illegal activities, Siegel desired to be a legitimate businessman. His dream appeared to be within reach with his investment in the construction of the Flamingo Hotel. Backed with mob money, Siegel aspired to create a casino resort of the highest class, with world-renowned entertainment, gourmet food, imported liquor, and luxurious lodging. Unfortunately, the project was fraught with delays, material shortages, rising costs, and personnel problems caused by Siegel’s arrogance and violent outbursts. The resort did not turn a profit immediately upon opening, and many speculate that mob bosses, tired of waiting for a return on their investments, arranged for the hit that ended the life of Bugsy Siegel. This photo shows the bullet holes (center) in the window caused by the gunman or gunmen who shot Bugsy Siegel.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photographed June 23, 1947, by Harold Ballew.

This photo shows a coroner’s aide examining the body of Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel as it lies on the floor of the house at 810 N. Linden Drive in Beverly Hills, the residence of Siegel’s companion, Virginia Hill. [NOTE: There are two copies of this photo, with one highlighting key points of the murder scene.]

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo dated June 21, 1947.

As noted, Siegel’s friend and associate Allen Smiley was sitting on the couch next to Seigel when the shooting occurred but escaped unharmed. This photo shows Smiley leaving the police station in Beverly Hills during the investigation of Bugsy Siegel’s murder.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo dated June 23, 1947.

At the time of the shooting, Siegel’s pal Smiley was in the house along with Virginia Hill’s cook, brother, and secretary. These three people had retired for the evening and were in other parts of the house when the shooting occurred.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photographed June 21, 1947.

Of course, it goes without saying that Siegel had plenty of enemies.

Two Brooklyn gangsters, Al Tannenbaum and Abe ‘Kid Twist’ Reles, told the Los Angeles Grand Jury that Siegel was a much bigger threat than anyone knew and that he did indeed kill Harry Greenberg (Schachter). Here, Kid Twist arrives to speak with the Grand Jury.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo dated August 20, 1940.

It was widely speculated that the killing of Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel (and Siegel hated to be called “Bugsy”) was a mob hit, carried out when Mafia bosses became fed up with the runaway construction costs and slow profits of the Flamingo Hotel. One major suspect for the killing was Tony Brancato, a mobster from Kansas City who relocated to Los Angeles and was involved in prostitution, gambling, and narcotics. After robbing the Flamingo Hotel in Las Vegas, Brancato himself became a target and was killed in a gangland-style killing in August of 1951 in Los Angeles along with associate Tony Trombino. This photo was taken hours after they were ambushed in their car.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo taken on August 7, 1951.

Law enforcement created an information pool with the hopes of finding clues as to the killer of Bugsy Siegel.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo taken on June 21, 1947.

Seventy years on, the murder case of Bugsy Siegel remains unsolved. While there were theories and suspects and questioning, no person or persons were ever charged with the killing. Siegel’s body went to the coroner and he was then buried in a silver-plated casket in Hollywood Forever Cemetery.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo taken on June 26, 1947.

Like anyone, Siegel had dreams and desires, triumphs and tragedies. He had glamorous friends and dangerous enemies. He looked out for his friends but could turn on them if they did him wrong. He appreciated luxuries and fine things but wanted others to have them. (He envisioned The Flamingo attracting both high rollers and average vacationers.) He was stylish and charismatic, quick-tempered and violent. He enjoyed drinking champagne with movie stars in nightclubs but also cherished a quiet night at home. Ironically, it was not a shootout, a fight, or a drive through a dark alley that proved his undoing, but a simple quiet night at home.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo taken on June 25, 1947

On the Job in the City — the Industrial Los Angeles Collection

May 26, 2017May 26, 2017 by Annie Murphy

Mention the word “industry” in Los Angeles and you’re liable to wind up talking about showbiz – studios, stars, grips, gaffers, and box office returns. Yes, entertainment is a major industry in L.A., but there is much more being created and sold in our city as showcased by the Industrial Los Angeles Collection of the photo archives of the Los Angeles Public Library. Founded by a grant from the John Randolph Haynes and Dora Haynes Foundation (the oldest private foundation in Los Angeles), this collection features photos of workplaces – the machines and the manpower – and captures the strength and beauty of L.A. at work.

NOTE: All photographs in this blog post are from the Industrial Los Angeles Collection; photographers and dates of photos are duly noted.

Symmetrical and sleek, this machine is a can washer at Walker Foods, Inc., sanitizing and preparing cans to be filled with salsa, vinegar, or other condiments.

Photographed in 2009 by Tom Zimmerman.

An employee of Robinson Helicopter Company in Torrance, California, carefully assembles the main rotor gearbox for the Robinson R44, the most-widely produced and best-selling general aviation helicopter produced today.

Photographed in 2009 by Gary Leonard.

Two women bag the fresh hot tortillas and tortilla chips made daily at La Fortaleza in East Los Angeles, a wholesale company that originated as a Mexican deli founded by Trinidad Garcia and Ramiro Ortiz.

Photographed in 2009 by Tom Zimmerman.

Meticulously organized, buttons of varying size, shape, and color are ready for use by the tailors at High Society, a shop in downtown L.A. offering professional clothing alterations, European tailoring, and custom-designed suits.

Photographed on July 13, 2009, by Cheryl Himmelstein.

Employees at Cosmos Food Co. are suited up and ready to make kimchi, a traditional Korean dish of cabbage and other vegetables.

Photographed in 2009 by Tom Zimmerman.

A candy maker carefully initials handmade chocolate candies created at John Kelly Chocolates, a chocolatier located in Hollywood.

Photographed in 2009 by Tom Zimmerman.

A conveyor belt extends to the horizon, carrying raw materials to be made into asphalt, concrete, and other construction and landscaping materials produced at Reliance Rock in Irwindale, California.

Photographed in 2009 by Gary Leonard.

A swirl of circles framed with straight lines, this photo displays food storage containers being manufactured at Impress USA, Inc. on Terminal Island.

Photographed in 2009 by Slobodan Dimitrov.

An employee utilizes care and precision while slicing fillets at State Fish Company, a processing plant started by brothers Sam, Jack, and Frank DeLuca in 1932.

Photographed in 2009 by Slobodan Dimitrov.

A dress designer partakes in the creative process at Dina Bar-El, a shop in downtown Los Angeles specializing in custom-designed evening gowns.

Photographed on July 14, 2009, by Cheryl Himmelstein.

With its layout of levers and pivots and valves, this control panel at a plant of the Sunlaw Energy Company (formerly located in Vernon, California) displays an ornate architecture.

Photographed in 2009 by Slobodan Dimitrov.

Bolts of fabric wait to be made into women’s clothing at Karen Kane, Inc., a clothing company headquartered in downtown Los Angeles and started by a graduate of L.A’s Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising.

Photographed April 23, 2009, by Cheryl Himmelstein.

A craftsman at Coppa Woodworking, Inc. in San Pedro, California, carefully sands a circular wooden frame to be used as part of a door.

Photographed in 2009 by Slobodan Dimitrov.

There and back: Los Angeles Japanese and Executive Order 9066

April 10, 2017 by Eleanor Boba

Seventy-five years ago, in the spring of 1942, the City of Los Angeles experienced a population exodus triggered by a presidential executive order. Images in the Los Angeles Public Library’s Herald Examiner Collection and Shades of L.A. Collection tell the story of Executive Order 9066 and its impact on Japanese residents and on the city itself.

From the day of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, December 7, 1941, many Americans lived in fear of a further assault or even an invasion. President Roosevelt’s Executive Order, while not naming the Japanese or any other group by name, gave broad powers to the Secretary of War to guard against the threat of sabotage and espionage. Within days of the February 19 order, a series of “Public Proclamations” and “Civilian Exclusion Orders” directed that Japanese and Japanese-Americans be removed from all West Coast states in order to prevent collusion with the enemy. Virtually all Japanese, by birth or ancestry, were rounded up with scant warning and sent to ten internment camps far from the coast. Age, sex, or condition offered no exception to the rule. Having as little as 1/16th Japanese blood marked one for removal. Orphans of Japanese blood were gathered up and transported, even if they were in the care of Caucasian families.

Big Sale in Little Tokyo

In the spring of 1942 many Japanese lived and worked in a section of downtown Los Angeles dubbed Little Tokyo. When the order came down, families were given six days to dispose of their property and belongings; each person was allowed to bring only what they could carry with them. Japanese businesses held fire sales; families sought desperately for places to store their belongings and friends to care for their property and their pets. Cars were sold for pennies on the dollar. Herald Examiner Collection, Image #00068543, March 21, 1942.

Many Japanese were anxious to show their loyalty to the United States and its institutions. The photo editor of the image above made sure to draw attention to the sign posted above the cash register in this Japanese-run drugstore: “Please no talk war!” Herald Examiner Collection, Image #00068538, March 1942.

Although internment was carried out in waves, by early summer the streets of Little Tokyo were empty. The newspaper photo above was captioned “Shops for rent on a deserted 1st Street in Little Tokyo.” Herald Examiner Collection, Image #00022054, June 18, 1942.

Exodus

Japanese families gather with their belongings at a departure point where they will be taken to an assembly center and, eventually, to an internment camp. All persons, including children, had to wear identification tags. The intention of the tags was to prevent families from being separated. Tags also identify bales of bedding which might or might not be reunited with their owners. Herald Examiner Collection, Image #00044031, April 2, 1942.

The caption for this photo from the Herald-Examiner reads “Young Japanese girls brave the early morning rain to bid farewell to friends leaving for Manzanar relocation camp.” Herald-Examiner Collection, Image #00034809, 1942.

Evacuees had to endure several weeks or months at assembly centers while basic camp structures were prepared for them in the hinterland. Assembly centers were located throughout the West at fairgrounds and racetracks where families often were crowded into horse or livestock stalls. As with all aspects of the relocation, government publicity outlets bent over backwards to give a favorable impression of their actions. The photograph above, from the Herald Examiner, is accompanied by a highly colored optimism: “A little Japanese girl meekly submits to a hair wash while a woman nearby also washes her hair on June 25, 1942. A far cry from the Axis concentration camps ravaged with torture, starvation and death, is the Santa Anita Assembly Center, where 18,500 Japanese are quartered on the grounds of the luxurious Santa Anita Race Track.” Herald-Examiner Collection, Image # 00043915, June 25, 1942.

This image (with crop marks) shows rows of temporary housing erected in the parking lot of the Santa Anita Park racetrack. The track’s parade ring is at right. Herald-Examiner Collection, Image #00044039, 1942.

Home Away from Home

Aware of the mixed feelings on internment, government and media tried hard to style detention as something in the best interests of the internees, as well as the local populace. The term “internment camp” was often replaced with “relocation center” or “evacuation center.” (The preferred term among some historians today is “concentration camp.”) Some news accounts went farther to spin the reality of the forced move, referring to “new homes” awaiting the “evacuees.” The article accompanying the photo above calls Manzanar, the destination of the motor caravan, “the new boom town, Little Tokio of the Mountains.” Herald Examiner Collection, Image #00044026, 1942.

Of course stark reality was much different. The sites chosen were in remote, harsh environments. Accommodations were hastily erected with much work needing to be completed by the inmates themselves. Residents of Los Angeles might find themselves at Gila River on an Arizona Indian Reservation, at Heart Mountain in the sagebrush desert of Wyoming, at treeless Tule Lake in Northern California, or at Manzanar — a once fertile valley drained of its water by the Los Angeles Aqueduct.

It is not surprising that there are few, if any, images of the exodus in the Shades of L.A. Collection — photos shared with Los Angeles Public Library by minority families. Those caught up in the confusion would have other things to worry about than documenting their departure and a camera would have been a heavy luxury to carry along. However, once settled in the camps, Japanese families for the most part adopted a stoic resignation and worked to recreate some sense of familiarity and normality in bleak surroundings. In the photo above, James Otake celebrates his first birthday at the Gila River camp sitting on the lap of his mother, Mariko (Mary). A cake sits next to them. Since the photo is dated 1945, James must have been born in the camp. Shades of L.A. Collection, Image #00000735.

A panoramic view of Heart Mountain Relocation Center in Wyoming. The mountain itself dominates the landscape. Army style barracks serve as housing for the internees. Shades of L.A. Collection, Image #00003694.

Residents of the Gila River internment camp in Arizona were able to find sardonic humor in setting up a “country club.” The writing on the photo reads “Tournament! March 5, 1944.” Shades of L.A. Collection, Image #00004306, 1944.

Touches of home are visible in the photo of this tar paper hut at the Tule Lake internment camp, including flowers in coffee-can pot and a two-wheeler for Grace Toya. Shades of L.A. Collection, Image #00004455, 1945.

Schooling continued in the camps. Here second graders at Manzanar pose with their teacher, 1945. Shades of L.A. Collection, Image #00004179.

This image is labeled “Yuki and James Toya at Tule lake internment camp during winter snow, 1945.” Perhaps they are the parents of Grace Toya pictured above. Shades of L.A. Collection, Image #00004453.

Changes at home

The wholesale removal of Japanese and Japanese-Americans meant the streets of Little Tokyo were deserted — but not for long. Real estate abhors a vacuum as much as nature does. Without paying tenants, the landlords of these buildings were able to re-lease the storefronts and apartments, in many cases to other ethnic minority groups. African-American families arrived in West Coast cities to work in the war effort. With racial covenants in place in many communities, and widespread discrimination in housing generally, the newly vacated Little Tokyo presented one of the few options available to them.

For approximately three years Little Tokyo took on the moniker “Bronzetown,” in recognition of the many African-American run businesses that sprang up there, including Schepp’s Playhouse, a nightclub. In this photo Ruth David, William Love, and Bernice Patton (R.N., 2nd Lt., Army) relax at Schepp’s. Shades of L.A. Collection, Image # 00001830, c. 1944.

A man, identified as Alberto Munoz, prepares to re-open a cleaners established by a Japanese family. The movie poster at right advertises the Japanese film Joi Kinuyo Sensei (Doctor Kinuyo) from 1937. The star of the movie, Kinuyo Tanaka, was a popular actress in both pre- and post-war films and, later, one of Japan’s first female film directors. Herald-Examiner Collection, Image #00068523, June 17, 1942.

The Return

This photo accompanied an article titled “Japs leave to settle in freedom throughout the U.S.” The freedom referred to meant moving across state lines from California to Nevada. Toward the end of 1943 overcrowding at the camps forced authorities to relax some restrictions. However, this hardly meant full freedom. Those allowed to leave Manzanar had to swear they would not return to their homes on the coast. Herald-Examiner Collection, Image #00043908, November 17, 1943.

Tara Kawa was able to reclaim his fish market after returning from the Gila River internment camp. Herald-Examiner Collection, Image # 00043954, September 7, 1945.

In December 1944, with the war in the Pacific turning in favor of the Allies, President Roosevelt lifted Executive Order 9066. The process of re-integrating the Japanese back into the lives they’d left behind was complex; it would be another year before all the camps were completely closed. Many internees had lost everything, including friends, and did not return to California. Others were able to piece their lives back together with some help from public authorities and faith groups. The lucky ones, such as the man above, were able to re-establish their businesses.

Justice for all?

In 1943, Eleanor Roosevelt, the wife of the man who issued Executive Order 9066, visited internees at Gila River and then wrote a lengthy piece for Colliers Magazine about internment. While acknowledging the exigencies of war, the First Lady made clear her own feelings in the matter:

“We have no common race in this country, but we have an ideal to which all of us are loyal. It is our ideal which we want to have live. It is an ideal which can grow with our people, but we cannot progress if we look down upon any group of people amongst us because of race or religion. Every citizen in this country has a right to our basic freedoms, to justice and to equality of opportunity, and we retain the right to lead our individual lives as we please, but we can only do so if we grant to others the freedoms that we wish for ourselves.” (Eleanor Roosevelt, “A Challenge to American Sportsmanship,” Collier’s Magazine, October 10, 1943)

In 1989 the U.S. Government issued a formal apology to those interned during World War II and provided “redress” payments of $20,000 to each surviving internee.

Sources for this essay include the website Densho.org and Confinement and Ethnicity: An Overview of World War II Japanese American Relocation Sites, University of Washington Press, 2002.

Law Enforcement, Public Safety, and Modernist Style — A View of Parker Center

March 23, 2017 by Annie Murphy

Designed by architect Welton Becket, the Police Administration Building served as police headquarters for the Los Angeles Police Department from 1954 until 2009. Groundbreaking for the downtown facility began in 1952, with construction finishing in 1955. When Police Chief William Parker died in 1966 (after 15 years in office), the building was renamed Parker Center in his honor.

The facility was designed in the Modernist fashion which encouraged the union of indoor and outdoor space and elements. As time passed and the police force grew and technology changed, the building needed retrofitting and updating, all of which proved to be more expensive than building a new facility. Construction for new LAPD headquarters (located at the corner of Main and First Streets) began in 2007 and finished in 2009.

Despite having a shiny new police headquarters, many people still think of Parker Center when the subject of LAPD headquarters comes up. Besides serving the citizens of L.A. for 55 years, Parker Center is known by people the world over due to being showcased in films, television shows, video games, music videos, novels, and true crime stories. Like many in L.A., Parker Center was in the biz.

In 2015, the Cultural Heritage Commission recommended that Parker Center be made a protected city landmark. While the city reviewed that nomination, a city councilman put forth a motion to demolish the building. Alas, this motion passed without any fierce opposition and the building is set to be razed. (Note: The date for the demolition of Parker Center was postponed due to a clerical error.)

The photo collection of the Los Angeles Public Library has many images showing the interior, exterior, and outer grounds of Parker Center, giving viewers a glimpse of its style and showing major events and everyday workings of this slice of L.A. history.

Here is the plaza at Parker Center as seen from the parking lot. Note the clean lines and modern glass windows which earned the structure the nickname “the Glass House”.

Heritage Documentation Programs Collection, Historic American Landscapes
Survey Collection, photographed by Brian Grogan in 2005.

A panoramic view shows Parker Center (to the right) with City Hall in the background (tall white building to the left).

Security Pacific National Bank Collection (photographer and date unknown).

A view of the landscaping near the parking area shows well-manicured hedges with plants in planters surrounding the main lawn.

Heritage Documentation Programs Collection, Historic American Landscapes
Survey Collection, photographed by Brian Grogan in 2005.

Parker Center serves as the backdrop for the art installation titled “Eye of the Storm” while looking quite artistic itself with palm tree shadows accenting the structure.

Heritage Documentation Programs Collection, Historic American Landscapes
Survey Collection, photographed by Brian Grogan in 2005.

A gun is laid out for photographing and then tested by a lab technician for the L.A.P.D. Scientific Investigations Unit at Parker Center.

Ralph Morris Collection, photographed by Ralph Morris (date unknown).

A policeman speaks into a radio at Parker Center, providing information for officers in patrol cars.

Security Pacific National Bank Collection (photographer and date unknown).

A worker stands inside a safe at Parker Center.

Security Pacific National Bank Collection, photographed by
Jack B. Kemmerer (date unknown).

A mosaic depicting landmarks of Los Angeles graces the lobby of Parker Center.

Ralph Morris Collection, photographed by Ralph Morris in 1955.

A bank of telephones is ready for use by the public and reporters at Parker Center.

Security Pacific National Bank Collection, photographed by
Jack B. Kemmerer in 1955.

The Hillside Strangler Task Force had a room of its own at Parker Center where investigators could review photos and discuss leads and evidence.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photographed by Michael Haering on January 15, 1978.

William H. Parker was Chief of Police for the Los Angeles Police Department from 1950 until his death in 1966. Here is seen at his desk in Parker Center.

Security Pacific National Bank Collection, photographed by
Jack B. Kemmerer (date unknown).

Parker Center saw its share of protests and public outrage. In this photo, Vietnam War protestors marching through downtown file past Parker Center.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photograph taken July 9, 1967 (photographer unknown).

A group of people gathers outside Parker Center to protest the use of the chokehold by police officers.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photographed by Rob Brown on April 28, 1982.

Here we see demonstrators kneeling in protest against the police action of rounding up and detaining day laborers.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photographed by Michael Haering on February 20, 1989.

In this photo, we see protestors angry about the outcome of the Rodney King trial.

Gary Leonard Collection, photographed by Gary Leonard on April 29, 1992.

A studio prop police car is parked in front of Parker Center, making the building ready for its close-up.

Valley Times Collection, photographed on December 7, 1963 (photographer unknown).

Death at Midnight: The St. Francis Dam Disaster

March 9, 2017March 3, 2017 by Eleanor Boba

11:58 p.m., March 12, 1928 –– Residents in the settlements of the San Francisquito Valley, some 45 miles north of Los Angeles, were shaken awake. The cause was not an earthquake, but the epic fail of the massive, newly-constructed dam looming over the valley.

When the St. Francis dam gave way, it went quickly and catastrophically. Dozens were killed in the first five minutes, inundated by a wall of water 140 feet high. As 12 billion gallons of water thundered out of the valley and on to the ocean near Oxnard, the torrent swept at least 400, and perhaps as many as 600, persons to their deaths. Following the disaster bodies were found everywhere from right up at the dam site (one) to the border of Mexico. A hundred or more of the missing were never found.

In addition to the human toll, the floodwaters devastated the towns of Castaic Junction, Piru, Fillmore, Santa Paula, and Saticoy in the Santa Clara Valley. Roads, bridges, and power lines were wiped out. Livestock died in the fields.

Eighty-nine years later it is worth recalling the devastation caused by miscalculating the power of water. Photos from the Los Angeles Public Library collections show the dramatic aftermath of the worst man-made disaster in California’s history.

The St. Francis Dam was built to store water from the Owens Valley Aqueduct System. Security Pacific National Bank Collection, Image #00009818

The state-of-the-art St. Francis Dam had been open two years and its reservoir had filled to capacity for the first time when tragedy struck. In the photo above, the reservoir lake is still several feet below the lip of the dam.

Shiny generators at Power Plant #2 in the vicinity of the St. Francis Dam stand ready to turn water into electric power. Ironically, the power plant was destroyed by the very waters it sought to harness. Unlike the dam, the plant was quickly rebuilt. Security Pacific National Bank Collection, Image #00009831, 1928.

This photo, taken shortly before the collapse, shows the stair-step design on the face of the dam. Some “seeps” of water were considered to be no big deal. Security Pacific National Bank Collection, Image #00009832.

Eerie Monuments

Security Pacific National Bank Collection, Image #00009834 . Photo Credit, “Underwood & Underwood.”

The only major chunk of dam to remain standing following the break was dubbed “the Tombstone” by a reporter. The accidental landmark and surrounding ruins became a mecca for tourists shortly after the cataclysm. After the death from falling of one such thrill seeker, the Tombstone and other monoliths were dynamited.

Close inspection of this photograph reveals several people on the stair steps of the Tombstone. Security Pacific National Bank Collection, Image #00009821.

Security Pacific National Bank Collection, Image #00075797.

Enormous chunks of the dam were found thousands of feet downstream, turning the valley floor into a bizarre sculpture garden. A gentleman standing in front of this “concrete iceberg” provides scale. Security Pacific National Bank, Image # 00075796.

The Frightful Flood

The horror of the catastrophe cannot be understated. Communities around the country awoke to the shocking news:

County Farm Advisor H. A. Weinland left Tuesday for the southern part of the state upon receiving the sad news that his brother, William Weinland, and the latter’s wife and ten-year-old son had been swept to death in the frightful flood through San Francisquito canyon Monday night, caused by the breaking of St. Francis dam. Weinland received a telegram from his father, Rev. William H. Weinland of Banning, telling of the death of his relatives. Weinland’s body has been found but those of his wife and son are yet lost somewhere in the depth of silt which the rushing waters from the huge reservoir above the dam left behind. The Sonoma County man’s brother was employed at one of the power stations near the dam and lived in a cottage in the valley directly below the reservoir. It is believed the flood caught the little family as they slept like it did scores of other unfortunate families. (Healdsburg Tribune, March 15, 1928)

A few fortunate souls survived the onslaught. The Associated Press paraphrased the words of an 80-year rancher plucked from the raging waters by one of his sons:

“When the water hit it, the house crumpled as though it were built of cards. I could not see a thing in the darkness and found myself clinging to what turned out to be a part of the roof of our home. Down, down with the current we went. I held on desperately. I kept saying to myself every second was my last. Then … somebody grabbed my arm in the darkness. ‘Is it you, dad?'” (Seattle Daily Times, March 13, 1928)

The report goes on to inform readers that the man’s other two sons lay in a temporary morgue nearby.

The clean up begins. Security Pacific National Bank Collection, Image #00017361, dated March 16, four days after the disaster. Photo credit “Underwood & Underwood.”

People survey the devastation along the Santa Clara River, the path the dam waters took to the sea. A railroad bridge lies in ruins. Security Pacific National Bank Collection #00070192, 1928.

Schist happens

William Mulholland (1855-1935) in an undated photo. Security Pacific National Bank Collection, Image #00043872.

The man behind the dam: William Mulholland was Chief Engineer of the Los Angeles Bureau of Water Works and Supply (now the Department of Water and Power). His towering reputation earned in the “water wars” of Southern California was largely wiped out, along with his career, after the St. Francis Dam disaster. Mulholland had personally inspected the dam only 12 hours before the disaster at the urging of the dam’s caretaker, and had pronounced it sound.

Any number of inquiries have attempted to find the cause of the disaster. While Mulholland initially clung to the theory of an earthquake, this was ruled out early on. Most experts point to geologic factors, especially the unstable hillsides that abutted the dam made up of landslide-prone schist (a type of metamorphic rock that splits easily) on one side and softened conglomerate (a type of gravel-like sedimentary rock) on the other. In short, the rock at the dam site was bad rock for a massive construction project. There were also errors in design. Mulholland had twice raised the height of the dam during construction without allowing for the increased water pressure that would result.

This photo from the Los Angeles Evening Herald is dated March 28, 1928, two weeks after the dam collapse; the caption reads “From districts swept by the St. Francis dam flood came more stories of heroic phone operators who stuck to their posts and saved scores of lives at risk of their own. Louise Gipe received and spread the first alarm at Santa Paula.” Image Herald Examiner Collection #00095916, Photo credit “Moss Photo.”

Even more than with the Long Beach Earthquake five years later, the St. Francis Dam disaster played havoc with communication. The disaster unfolded in the dark of night, taking power lines with it. The wave of water took five and a half hours to reach the sea, arriving just before dawn near Oxnard. For those in San Francisquito Canyon there was no early warning and no escape from the tsunami of water. Farther along the waters’ path, as the height of the wave lessened, some folks were able to escape to higher ground thanks to intrepid individuals such as telephone operator Louise Gipe who stood by her post and relayed a warning to residents of Santa Paula. Alerted by Gipe, California Highway Patrol officers went house to house to wake residents. At a work camp in the path of the deluge, the night watchman raised the alarm upon seeing the approaching wave. He is credited with saving half the sleeping workforce, at the cost of his own life.

The St. Francis Dam was never rebuilt. Lessons learned from the disaster informed the design, construction, and inspection protocols of dams throughout the country.

The Personal Side of History – Shades of L.A.: African American Community

February 15, 2017 by Annie Murphy

Over 25 years ago, while organizing the photo collection of the Los Angeles Public Library, librarian Carolyn Kozo Cole found many photos that documented the city’s political and professional history – political rallies, building construction, front page stories – but few images showing the personal side of its history – church picnics, school fairs, family photos. Moreover, there was little (if any) photographic evidence of the rich ethnic diversity in greater Los Angeles.

When a patron came to the library in 1991 and asked for historic photos of the Watts neighborhood, the only photo in the folder marked “Watts” was of a railway station. For Cole, this was a watershed moment. Garnering assistance from librarian Kathy Kobayashi, project coordinator Amy Kitchener, and a team of volunteers (plus financial support from Security Pacific National Bank, Sunlaw Cogeneration Partners, California Council for the Humanities, the Ralph M. Parsons Foundation, the John Randolph Haynes and Dora Haynes Foundation, and the non-profit organization Photo Friends), the Shades of L.A. project was launched to broaden the Library’s photo collection and showcase the City’s multicultural makeup.

The first year of the project (1991) focused on the city’s African American communities, with the first “Photo Day” occurring at the Vernon Branch on South Central Avenue. Local residents showed up bringing family portraits and personal snapshots. A large part of L.A.’s personal history – previously tucked away in shoeboxes, scrapbooks, desk drawers, and family bibles – was now to become part of the photo collection of the Los Angeles Public Library.

In honor of Black History month, here are photos that capture African American life in Los Angeles, from home life to high life.

NOTE: All photos in this blog post are from the Shades of L.A.: African American Community collection. Whenever possible, dates and photographers have been noted.

Emma Millhouse (right) poses with her friend at their after-school job in a record store. Millhouse had also worked at the National Youth Administration office in Los Angeles, a New Deal agency formed to assist young people between 16 and 25 years of age in finding jobs. This photo was taken in 1941.

A student poses with the trophy he won in an architectural contest between students at Polytechnic High School and Manual Arts High School in Los Angeles. This photo was taken in 1917.

Dr. Eugene, the winner of a sharpshooting competition, poses with his trophy and his weapon in 1935.

Boy Scout William Legget poses with his merit badges in 1936.

Boxer Joe Louis (center) poses with a woman and Gordon Sheppard in Shepps’ Playhouse, a breakfast club (open all night until breakfast) in downtown Los Angeles that boasted the likes of Coleman Hawkins, T-Bone Walker, and members of the Duke Ellington band. Sheppard, a former Hollywood cameraman, opened the club in Bronzeville, a neighborhood that sprang up in Little Tokyo during WWII.

Liney, a store clerk, stands behind the counter at the Rozier Family Store, a family-owned grocery market in Los Angeles. This photo was taken in 1906.

Amanda and Joseph pose with their children Grace, Raymond, Mildred, and Alphonso for a formal family portrait taken in 1907.

A girl enjoys Val Verde Park, also known as The Black Palm Springs. (Many African Americans frequented this area when they were barred from visiting public beaches and swimming pools.) This photo was taken in 1954.

Dr. Maye Jones poses in cap and gown at her graduation in 1957.

A woman attends the 42^nd Annual Congress of the International New Thought Alliance. This photo was taken between July 21 and July 26 in 1957.

This photo shows the Farmers and Merchants Bank of Watts being picketed in 1948 for not hiring African American or Mexican American tellers.

Raymond J. Austin poses in front of his home in Pomona, California, in 1945.

A young soldier poses in front of a fireplace. This photo was taken in 1943.

Crowds gather outside RKO Hillstreet Theatre (located at 8^th and Hill Streets in downtown Los Angeles) to see a 1945 appearance by Josephine Baker, the African-American chanteuse who mesmerized France and openly discouraged segregated audiences.

Fashion designer L’Tanya Griffin, who once designed gowns for Ida Lupino and ran her own dress shop in Hollywood, strikes a pose in this publicity photo. Photographed by John E. Reed in 1945.

Sebastian’s Cotton Club (originally named the Green Mill) was owned by Frank Sebastian and located in Culver City. It boasted three dance floors and full orchestras, including an orchestra featuring “the world’s greatest trumpet player, Louis Armstrong, with the world’s fastest drummer, Lionel Hampton.” In this 1931 photo, you see an orchestra with Lionel Hampton, the drummer, at the top.

A trio gather at the Zenda Ballroom, a huge nightclub at 936 West 7th Street in downtown Los Angeles. This photo was taken in 1939.

Tola Harris attends a wedding reception. The photo is dated November 9, 1996.

Five women pose in front of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art for the NAACP Awards. Photographed by Robert Douglas in 1968.

The Small Town in a Big City – Life at Rodger Young Village

January 18, 2017 by Annie Murphy

During WWII, thousands of men and women left Southern California to serve their country wherever they were needed. Thousands more men and women came to Southern California to work in factories supporting the war effort. As raw materials were needed for weapons, aircraft, and other related goods, construction of new housing ceased during the war. This created a housing shortage for veterans returning to the area after the end of WWII. This housing shortage spurred a housing boom, but veterans needed housing immediately. The Los Angeles City Housing Authority responded by building housing projects that offered affordable yet temporary housing for veterans and their families.

Rodger Young Village (also referred to as “RYV”) was one such public housing project. Built in Griffith Park and dedicated on April 27, 1946, RYV was named for Rodger Wilton Young, an infantryman in the U.S. Army killed during World War II. Rodger Young Village consisted of 750 Quonset huts, with most residents being young couples with children. RYV boasted a market, drug store, and theater plus delivery service for milk, diapers, and baked goods. Telephones were located outside throughout the village; a ringing phone would be answered by the nearest bystander who would then fetch (or get a kid to fetch) the intended recipient of the call. Churches came to conduct services in the theater (with the Catholics bringing their own kneelers), the Fuller Brush man made rounds throughout the compound, RYV had its own firefighters. Perched inside a park, it offered children plenty of space to play and explore.

Open to veterans of all races and branches of the military, Rodger Young Village was one of the most diverse communities in Southern California at the time. Adults and children befriended their neighbors with little regard to their ethnic background, educational levels, or personal beliefs. (One exception was the couple of Sidney and Libby Burke. There were evicted as it was determined that Sidney did not hold the proper veteran status but also because Libby had distributed supposedly communist literature.) Such acceptance of diversity helped end the practice of racial segregation in many local restaurants. (RYV residents often went to nearby eateries to dine with their neighbors. If a restaurant refused to serve someone in their party, the entire group would leave and often never return. Restaurants, faced with losing business, dropped discriminatory policies.)

As veterans bought homes or found housing elsewhere, the Rodger Young Village began to lose residents. RYV was demolished in the early 1950s. The parking lot for the Los Angeles Zoo and part of the Autry Museum now occupy the site where returning WWII vets and their families lived while waiting to move into their dream home. No physical trace of this housing project exists on the grounds today, but the photo archives of the Los Angeles Public Library can help you see how life was in this small town inside a big city.

With housing scarce and veterans returning en masse to the Los Angeles area, construction (conducted by William Radkovich Company and Zoss Construction Company) of Rodger Young Village was made a top priority by the Housing Authority.

The building of a Quonset hut is seen here.

Housing Authority Collection, photographed by Edwin Eichelberger on April 22, 1946.

While no huts had individual telephone service, all homes in Rodger Young Village had electricity. Here we see an electrician connecting wires to the Quonset hut homes.

Housing Authority Collection, photographed by Louis Clyde Stoumen (no date given).

The main entrance for Rodger Young Village was on Riverside Drive, with the Santa Monica Mountains providing a dramatic backdrop for the housing project.

Housing Authority Collection, photographed by Edwin Eichelberger on April 22, 1946.

An aerial view of Rodger Young Village shows its size and layout.

Shades of L.A.: Mexican American Community, photo taken by
White’s Studio circa 1940.

The dedication ceremonies for Rodger Young Village were held on April 27, 1946. Here we see a map showing how to get to the festivities.

Security Pacific National Bank Collection (photographer and
date of photograph unknown).

Many new and prospective residents attended the dedication festivities.

Housing Authority Collection, photographed by Louis Clyde Stoumen
on April 26, 1946.

Mrs. Nicholas Young, the mother of Rodger Young (the war hero for whom the housing project was named) attended the Village’s dedication ceremony as well as then-Mayor Fletcher Bowron.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photographed on April 26, 1946.

Each family would occupy one-half (front or back) of a Quonset hut, with two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen in their living space. Single veterans or childless couples would share a Quonset hut with each having their own bedroom but sharing the rest of the hut.

A family lounges in a model unit of the newly-built Quonset huts to see if it meets their needs.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photographed by Howard Ballew on April 26, 1946.

A model unit also showcases a child’s bedroom in a housing unit in Rodger Young Village.

Housing Authority Collection, photographed by Otto Rothschild on February 21, 1950.

While RYV was designed as temporary housing, residents took pride in their surroundings, planting gardens to add a homey touch.

Housing Authority Collection, photographed by Leonard Nadel on July 19, 1950.

John Barnes and his family pose outside their home (Unit 606) in Rodger Young Village.

Housing Authority Collection, photographed by Leonard Nadel on February 4, 1952.

Mrs. Lourdes Benigno and her children gather by the garden at their home (Unit 1147) in Rodger Young Village.

Housing Authority Collection, photographed by Leonard Nadel on February 4, 1952.

Mrs. John Breslin, a German war bride, helps her children dress for the day in their home at Unit 1279.

Housing Authority Collection, photographed by Leonard Nadel in 1952.

As most residents of Rodger Young Village were young families, children were everywhere – playing by their homes, in the park, at the zoo, and at events organized for them. Here we see kids playing outside their homes, having fun and making friends in their temporary neighborhood.

Housing Authority Collection, photographed by Leonard Nadel on November 16, 1951.

Children always enjoy dressing up for Halloween, and the kids at Rodger Young Village were no different.

Housing Authority Collection, photographed in October of 1947
(photographer unknown).

Santa Claus knew there were plenty of children in RYV, so he flew (via helicopter!) to visit them and their parents.

Housing Authority Collection, photographed by Louis Clyde Stoumen
on December 21, 1948.

Adults also had plenty of activities to attend at Rodger Young Village. Here, Bette Davis confers with Rodger Young’s mother during a luncheon at RYV.

Security Pacific National Bank Collection, photographed by
Floyd McCarty (date unknown).

People mingle and look at exhibits during a Negro Week program held in RYV.

Housing Authority Collection, photographed by Louis Clyde Stoumen (date unknown).

Negro Week (also referred to as Negro History Week) at Rodger Young Village also included a firefighters’ parade that featured a marching band.

Housing Authority Collection, photographed by Louis Clyde Stoumen (date unknown).

The arrow in this photo points to Rodger Wilton Young, the war hero for whom Rodger Young Village was named. This is the last photo taken of him before he died on July 31, 1943, in the Solomon Islands. He was awarded the Medal of Honor posthumously.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photograph dated 1946 but
taken in 1943 or earlier (photographer unknown).

Give the Gift of Los Angeles

December 12, 2016 by laplphotofriends

Looking for the perfect gift for the Los Angeles history fan in your life? Photo Friends has you covered!

Here’s a snapshot of the eight books we’ve published, all highlighting images from the Los Angeles Public Library Photo Collection! All are available for purchase on Amazon or at the Library Store and proceeds benefit Photo Friends and the Photo Collection.

Service Society and Social Change, by Christine Adolph

The post-War San Fernando Valley was the quintessential American suburb. With the availability of affordable housing and jobs from the thriving aerospace, aircraft, and manufacturing industries, the Valley’s population boomed. The promise of prosperity inspired new opportunities for leisure time, family life and civic engagement. Membership in social and service clubs soared. Whether people united through shared identities or shared interests in hobbies, civics or philanthropy, the prevalence of club life defined the Valley’s growing community. The Valley Times newspaper, published from 1946 to 1970, documented the changes to the Valley’s physical landscape through suburban development, but also revealed how social networks impacted society. This latest entry from Photo Friends Publications accompanies the exhibit “Service, Society and Social Change: Post- War Clubs from the Valley Times Newspaper” (July 7, 2016 – January 15, 2017) and presents a sampling of images from the Valley Times photo archive, now held at the Los Angeles Public Library. Through the lens of the Valley Times photographers, we are presented with a unique visual history of the ways people connect to build a community.

One Golden Moment: The 1984 Olympics Through the Photographic Lens of the Los Angeles Herald Examiner – by David Davis

In the late 1970s, the Olympic Movement was in deep trouble. When the International Olympic Committee called for candidates to host the 1984 Summer Olympics, only two cities expressed interest: Tehran and Los Angeles. And, after Tehran dropped out of the bidding process, L.A. was left to carry the flickering Olympic torch. Naysayers predicted disaster: the traffic would be snarled and the smog suffocating; the Games would bankrupt the city of L.A. and terrorists would harm innocent people. But L.A. proved everyone wrong. The weather cooperated, and the traffic was smooth sailing. An ambitious Arts Festival drew appreciative crowds, and pin trading became an unofficial Olympic event. And, who could not be thrilled by the record-setting performances of Carl Lewis, Evelyn Ashford, Edwin Moses, Joan Benoit, Daley Thompson, Mary Lou Retton, Greg Louganis, and Cheryl Miller? This book chronicles the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics through the extraordinary photographs taken by the staff at the Herald Examiner newspaper, a collection now held at the Los Angeles Central Library: from the preparations before the Games to the Opening Ceremony to the wondrous athletic performances to the Closing Ceremony. The 1984 Olympics were a golden moment in these photographers’ careers as well as for the city of Los Angeles.

Firsts, Seconds and Thirds: African American Leaders in Los Angeles from the 1960s and ’70s from the Rolland J. Curtis Collection – by Kristine Protacio

Civil Rights took shape in 1960s Los Angeles as African Americans broke color barriers and began to occupy positions in government. Progress during this time extended past politics, to the realm of entertainment, commerce, public service and activism. It is in the midst of this exciting time that Rolland J. Curtis (right) took thousands of photographs while serving as a Field Deputy for Council Members Billy Mills and Tom Bradley. Curtis’ images provide a unique view of the African American experience in South Los Angeles during this time. This book presents a sampling of Curtis’ photographic archive, now housed at the Los Angeles Public Library, as well as a glimpse at some of the city’s black leaders of the period. Some famous, some forgotten, these individuals were true trailblazers: the first, second, or third African Americans in the history of Los Angeles to accomplish their feats.

From Pop to the Pit: LAPL Photo Collection Celebrates the Los Angeles Music Scene, 1978-1989 – by Wendy Horowitz

Los Angeles has always enjoyed a tremendous amount of diversity, both culturally and geographically. In the 1980s, these varied ethnic and socio-economic backgrounds combined with the environmental influences of the beach, suburbs, or inner-city created an astoundingly unique and memorable period for popular music with L.A. at the epicenter. Culled from the Los Angeles Public Library’s Herald Examiner photo archive and the Gary Leonard Collection, LAPL and Photo Friends present a glimpse into a decade that produced scores of hit singles, showcased strikingly diverse genres and generated tremendous excitement. The exhibit From Pop to the Pit: LAPL Photo Collection Celebrates the Los Angeles Music Scene, 1978-1989 and companion catalog relive an extraordinary time in music history with rarely seen images of the bands that helped define the era.

Bunker Hill in the Rearview Mirror: The Rise, Fall, and Rise Again of an Urban Neighborhood – Edited by Christina Rice

During its history, the area of Downtown Los Angeles known as Bunker Hill has been viewed in many different ways; inaccessible, upscale, run-down, blighted, erased, renewed. These perceptions over the decades have always been open to interpretation and either agreed with or challenged. An area that has been subject to more change than any other place in the city, it has arguably invoked more passion and reverence than any other Los Angeles neighborhood, while inspiring equal amounts of disdain.

Bunker Hill in the Rear-View Mirror: The Rise, Fall, and Rise Again of an Urban Neighborhood, an exhibit at the Los Angeles Public Library’s Central Library on display from April 2015 – April 2016, uses photographs, news articles, recollections and unique ephemera from LAPL Special Collections to illustrate the complex story of Bunker Hill, from its heyday in the 1880’s to its redevelopment in the 1960’s and 70’s. Curated by librarians Christina Rice, Photo Collection, and Emma Roberts, Art & Music/Rare Books, the exhibit is enhanced by this companion catalog with contributing essays by Adrian Scott Fine, Nathan Marsak, Merry Ovnick, Meredith Drake Reitan, and Donald R. Spivack.

The First with the Latest!: Aggie Underwood, the Los Angeles Herald, and the Sordid Crimes of a City – by Joan Renner

Agness “Aggie” Underwood never intended to become a reporter—all she really wanted was a pair of silk stockings. When her husband told her they couldn’t afford them, she threatened to get a job and buy them herself. Those silk stockings launched a career that started with Aggie at the switchboard of the Los Angeles Record newspaper in 1926, and ended more than four decades later when she retired as City Editor of the Los Angeles Herald Examiner. As a reporter for the Los Angeles Evening Herald and Express (later, Herald Examiner), Aggie not only reported on crimes throughout the city, but sometimes helped solve them. Using quick wit and intuition, Aggie helped her newspaper live up to its motto “The First with the Latest.” Through the Los Angeles Herald Examiner’s photo archive, now held by the Los Angeles Public Library, the cases Aggie covered are more than just faded headlines, but come to life in light and shadow. This catalog of nearly 100 images, which compliments an exhibit at the Los Angeles Public Library’s Central Library gives a brief overview of Agness Underwood and some of the cases she covered.

Defining Their Identity: The Changing Roles of Women in the Post-War Era as Documented by the Valley Times Newspaper – by Christina Rice

The popular view of women in the years following World War II has come to be of homemakers like television’s Donna Reed and June Cleaver who maintained picture perfect households in suburban settings. In many cases this was indeed the primary role assumed by women of the era, but it wasn’t the only one. Women pursued advanced degrees, became professionals, held office, excelled in sports, fought for equal rights, and became civically involved, and often while running those households. The San Fernando Valley has come to exemplify the post-War suburban growth that took place throughout the country and the Valley Times newspaper was there to document this expansion along with the Valley’s dynamic women in their various roles. Now, the exhibit and companion catalog, Defining Their Identity: The Changing Roles of Women in the Post-War Era, explores the changing roles of women through the lens of the Los Angeles Public Library’s Valley Times’ image archive.

How We Worked, How We Played: Herman Schultheis and Los Angeles in the 1930s – by Christina Rice

Herman Schultheis may have been an engineer by trade, but was a photographer at heart who never seemed to go anywhere without his camera. After relocating to Los Angeles from the East Coast in 1937, Herman and his wife Ethel explored their newly adopted home, far and wide. By the end of the decade, he had snapped well over 5,000 photos. How We Worked, How We Played: Herman Schultheis and Los Angeles in the 1930s, presents a small sampling of this amazing collection which was donated to the Los Angeles Public Library following Ethel’s death in the early 1990s. The images present an overview of a rapidly expanding city in the midst of the Great Depression and on the verge of World War II, along with the simple story of two people in love with each other–and Los Angeles.

An End to the Dry Spell

December 5, 2016December 5, 2016 by Annie Murphy

In 1919, the Eighteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution was ratified. One year later, prohibition began. The production, importation, and transportation of alcoholic beverages was now illegal. America went dry – or so it was thought.

Supporters of prohibition believed that getting rid of booze would get rid of America’s social ills – alcoholism, public intoxication, petty crime, poverty, mental illness, venereal disease. Prohibition would also reduce taxes as there would be less need for courts, jails, hospitals, asylums, and other institutions supported by tax dollars. The country would be richer and safer if it were sober.

Unfortunately, as journalist H. L. Mencken noted in 1925:

“Five years of Prohibition have had, at least, this one benign effect: they have completely disposed of all the favorite arguments of the Prohibitionists. … Not only are crime, poverty and disease undiminished, but drunkenness itself, if the police statistics are to be believed, has greatly increased. The land rocks with the scandal. Prohibition has made the use of alcohol devilish and even fashionable, and so vastly augmented the number of users.”

On December 5, 1933, prohibition was repealed, with President Franklin D. Roosevelt declaring, “What America needs now is a drink!” People across the U.S. celebrated and Los Angeles, never a city to miss a party, joined in. The online photo archives of the Los Angeles Public Library show that while certain public officials in L.A. took prohibition very seriously, most of the public took its repeal even more seriously.

Members of the Coast Guard unload 1,200 cases of illegal whiskey found on a fishing boat in San Pedro.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo dated March 25, 1932.

An officer takes inventory of liquor that was seized in a raid on a warehouse in Long Beach, California. Police believed the warehouse was being used as a distribution center by bootlegger Tony Carnero (a/k/a The Admiral and Tony the Hat). The liquor was valued at $62,000 — $910,781 in today’s currency.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo taken in 1931.

John L. McDonnell of the District Attorney’s enforcement squad and Pearl Stephenson, secretary to Chief Investigator Lucien Wheeler, dump $45,000 worth of bootleg liquor used as evidence in liquor arrest cases. (Incidentally, that would be the equivalent of $635,000 worth of booze today.)

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo dated February 16, 1929.

Members of the Sheriff’s office dump wine, whiskey, imported champagne, and various liquors they had confiscated. The alcohol – most of it high-end and meant for Christmas, New Year’s, and other holiday parties – was valued at $150,000 at the time. Today, this contraband booze would be worth roughly $2,004,500.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo dated January 17, 1927.

Unable to buy a drink legally, many people resorted to partaking of Jamaica Ginger – also known as Jake – in place of a cocktail. Sold as a medicine, this concoction included an additive that affected the nerve cells that control movement, leading to paralysis for some unlucky imbibers. The Herald-Examiner alerted Southern Californians as to the dangers of drinking Jake.

Herald-Examiner Collection, drawings photographed in 1931.

As grapes were no longer becoming wine (with the exception of a select crop used for sacramental wine), the California Vinyardists’ Association created National Grape Week in an effort to dispose of a bumper crop of grapes during Prohibition.

Security Pacific National Bank Collection, photo dated September 14, 1928.

In spite of the law, Los Angelenos (like folks everywhere) still liked to discuss business, meet friends, and relax over drinks. This elegant home at 4412 Wilshire Boulevard served as a speakeasy during Prohibition.

Los Angeles Photographers Collection, Marlene Laskey/Wilshire Boulevard Collection,
photographed by Annie Laskey in 1978.

While the complete repeal of Prohibition occurred on December 5, 1933, the Beer and Wine Revenue Act (commonly referred to as the Beer Bill) was put into effect on April 7, 1933. It gave states the right to sell beer and wine. In this photo, crowds wait to enjoy a beer at the Belmont Grill in downtown Los Angeles.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo dated April 7, 1933.

Here is the scene inside the Belmont Grill that same day.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo dated April 7, 1933.

When the Beer Bill came into effect, Eastside Brewery in Lincoln Heights wasted no time getting back into business. The first truckload of beer rolled away as movie star Jean Harlow christened it with a bottle of (what else?) beer.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo dated April 7, 1933.

People couldn’t wait until prohibition was repealed to celebrate its repeal! Here, revelers at Club Airport Gardens celebrate the repeal of prohibition on November 8, 1933, with a skeleton of the 18th amendment.

Herald-Examiner Collection, photo dated November 8, 1933.

With prohibition repealed, the quaint Malamute Saloon, designed to resemble a cozy log cabin, reopened after 13 years. Los Angeles residents and visitors could imbibe while enjoying a somewhat rustic experiment.

Security Pacific National Bank Collection, photo dated 1933.

A group of Mexican-Americans celebrates the end of Prohibition and the freedom to enjoy a drink with family and friends.

Shades of L.A.: Mexican-American Community, photo taken by Harvey
(see lower right corner) in 1934.

Disaster Response: The 1933 Long Beach Earthquake

November 28, 2016 by Eleanor Boba

On Friday, March 10, 1933, in the depth of the Great Depression, the Southland experienced a major earthquake, centered off of Long Beach. While named for that city, the event, and the many aftershocks, affected the entire Los Angeles basin and was felt as far south as Tijuana. Some 120 persons were killed (the exact number is disputed*): about half in Long Beach proper and the rest in communities including Compton, Cerritos, and Huntington Beach. Serious property damage occurred throughout the region, including in Los Angeles City itself.

A young seismologist named Charles F. Richter counted seven aftershocks of “marked intensity.” Richter went on to tell the United Press: “Thereafter a series of continuous quakes began. They were too frequent to be correctly tabulated. I should estimate them at from 100 to 200 up to noon Saturday.” (Quoted in Seattle Times, “12Towns….”) Two years following the event, Richter developed his famous scale which rated the initial 1933 earthquake at 6.4.

Residents and newspapers photographers documented the devastation and the recovery efforts. In this photo essay, we will focus on immediate aid efforts and the resilience of the citizenry.

Security Pacific National Bank Collection, Image #00058879

The earthquake caused widespread devastation, collapsing many buildings, including 70 schools and public buildings such as the Lynwood Theater. Another 50 schools and many other buildings sustained serious damage. Fortunately, the quake occurred at the dinner hour, after school had recessed for the day. Had it happened earlier, the death toll would have been much higher and much younger!

Herald Examiner Collection, #00047523

Rescuers pause to listen for victims who may be trapped in the wreckage of the Stockwell Building in Compton, March 11, 1933. Compton suffered extensive destruction in its core commercial district.

Security Pacific National Bank Collection, #00058878

Medical personnel, including Catholic sisters and staff from U.S. Navy ships at San Pedro were called in to help with the wounded. With hospitals damaged, the wounded were brought to churches, parking lots, and other locations. Another photo, not shown here, shows covered bodies on mattresses behind Seaside Hospital (Herald-Examiner Collection, Image #00057404).

Many were injured or killed by falling bricks in the streets.

Making Shift

Herald Examiner Collection, Image #00057405

In the days following the quake, and with after-shocks coming thick and fast, most families in the quake zone chose to camp outdoors, either in parks or in their own yards. The Long Beach area was dotted with small fires such as this one. The caption accompanying this photo in the Herald Examiner read: “Through the night of the March 10 earthquake, thousands of men, women and children sat up beside bonfires in vacant lots and yards as they feared to enter their homes lest there be further temblors.”

Security Pacific National Bank Collection, Image #00020435

This family in Compton has set up a makeshift camp stove in their yard. The quake took out electric power and officials shut off gas, likely preventing further disasters.

Security Pacific National Bank Collection, Image #00020448

There’s a lot going on in this photo, including several makeshift stoves with fuel at the ready. The men in charge may be running a pop-up business, catering to those without means to heat food.

Herald Examiner Collection, Image #00084131

The Community Pulls Together

It takes a community to recover from a disaster. The Herald-Examiner’s caption for the above photo, dated March 14, 1933, read “All Southern California opened its heart and sent food and medicine to the homeless and injured. Volunteer workers are shown carrying boxes of supplies prepared by sympathetic Angelenos.”

Photo by “Crory,” Herald Examiner Collection, Image #00057407

Residents line up for food and other assistance at Lincoln Park, close by Long Beach City Hall, March 12, 1933, two days after the quake. The Red Cross and Salvation Army set up first aid tents and feeding stations. Long Beach city officials trucked in fresh water. Some restaurants offered what they had on hand at no charge.

Herald-Examiner Collection, Image #00047510

Commerce must go on. With most stores and businesses at least temporarily uninhabitable, merchants took to the streets to sell their wares. In Compton they were allowed to set up within an undamaged structure — the Oil Exposition building — where they arranged themselves in the same order as their main street shops.

Frank Bentley, photographer, Herald Examiner Collection, Image #00057399

With power and telephone poles down throughout the region, communication with the outside world was difficult. Ham radio stations were credited with offering the only reliable communication for the first week following the cataclysm. According to some, the first word of the disaster came from a boy’s ham radio station ten minutes after the initial quake. Here, amateur radio enthusiasts, assisted by the Boy Scouts, offer the services of their short-wave radio station. Survivors were able to send messages to anxious loved ones via wireless technology. Press services also availed themselves of on-the-ground reports transmitted via short-wave. With the region under virtual martial law for a number of days, reporters had a difficult time gaining access to the quake zone.

Herald Examiner Collection, Image #00034804

Military personnel called out to assist with the recovery efforts take advantage of coffee and donuts provided by the Salvation Army in Compton. The soldier at right is reading an “EXTRA” addition of the paper with the headline “120 Killed in Quake.” Curiously, the number is fairly accurate.

If not for the newspaper, one might be led to believe this was a photo from World War I. The sailors, referred to in the press as “bluejackets,” carried bayonets while patrolling disaster-stricken streets.

Some of the men pictured appear to be members of the American Legion. The Disaster Relief Committee of the American Legion stepped up to the challenge , distributing supplies and patrolling streets. An interesting press item, copied from a March 16 letter of the American Legion post in Long Beach to his fellow commanders, offers a glimpse at the state of things five days following the quake:

Dear Comrade Commander:

Pay no attention to radio broadcasts, either commercial or amateur, requests for food until broadcast by Colonel A. C. Wyman or Ole Olson. Clothing of all kinds needed, especially men’s shoes. Send to Compton or Long Beach American Legion. Fraternally yours, L.F. Olson, acting disaster relief chairman, The American Legion, Department of California (Coronado Eagle and Journal, March 21, 1933)

American Legion relief station adjacent to the ruins of Compton City Hall, March 13, 1933. Herald Examiner Collection, Image #00047508

Herald Examiner Collection, Image #00084132

Four days after the quake, with most folks still camped out in parks and on golf courses, boredom became an issue. These young women attempt to alleviate the problem with the aid of the old upright at Long Beach’s Bixby Park.

Finding Fault?

Thanks to its location within a major metropolitan area, and with access to trained emergency response and federal assistance, recovery from the Long Beach earthquake was relatively rapid. Within two weeks most families were able to return to their homes. Lessons were learned. Many who had believed Southern California immune from big earthquakes found out otherwise. The need for construction standards and the risks of building on landfill became apparent. A month following the disaster, the state legislature passed the Field Act, mandating state-approved standards for school-building.

At this writing, fall of 2016, a new geological report suggests that the 1933 earthquake and others of the same era and location may have been caused by indiscriminate oil drilling in Huntington Beach and the resulting effects on soil and fault lines. The past never stays dead and buried.

*Early on, the United Press reported that 151 persons had died in the immediate aftermath of the quake.

Selected sources:

“12 Towns Take Stock of Damage Done by Quakes,” Seattle Times, March 12, 1933. Several pages of the Seattle paper are devoted to articles and pictures of the disaster, with information taken from wire services and short-wave radio stations.

“1933 Long Beach Earthquake,” California Department of Conservation website accessed November 11, 2016 (http://www.conservation.ca.gov/cgs/News/pages/longbeach.aspx).

Tim Grobaty, Long Beach Chronicles: From Pioneers to the 1933 Earthquake (Charleston: The History Press, 2012), 148-158.

Clinton B. DeSoto, “Southern California Amateurs Rise to Earthquake Emergency,” QST, May 1933. Reprinted in EverythingRF, 2016, accessed November 11, 2016 (http://www.rfcafe.com/references/qst/california-amateurs-earthquake-emergency-qst-may-1933.htm).

Ron-Gong Lin II, “Southern California’s deadliest quake may have been caused by oil drilling, study says,” Los Angeles Times online, October 31, 2016, accessed November 6, 2016 (http://www.latimes.com/local/la-me-ln-oil-drilling-earthquake-20161031-story.html).