“The Man From China”: The Many Lives of Lawrence L. Lewis of the Golden State/Raenford Military Academy at the Homestead

by Paul R. Spitzzeri

A prior post here covered some of the history of the Golden State/Raenford Military Academy, which operated on a lease at the 92-acre Homestead from 1930 to 1935. As noted there (and elsewhere on this blog), Walter P. Temple’s dire financial predicament led him to rent the ranch to the school in spring 1930. The academy, recently inaugurated on the shoreline at Redondo Beach, opened at the Homestead for the 1930-1931 school year, but, after the second year concluded, Temple lost the property to foreclosure—this happening in July 1932 with California Bank taking over possession.

Under the bank’s ownership, the school continued to operate at the ranch, though it assumed the name of Raenford, perhaps to give the institution more of exclusive aura, especially as the Great Depression, which burst forth in fall 1929 and became considerably worse during waves of bank failures three years later, continued. After its fifth year at the Homestead, however, Raenford moved to the former Encino Country Club property at the base of the Santa Monica Mountains in the San Fernando Valley, where it lasted until 1943, as the Second World War was being fought.

That previous post observed that “little was actually found” about the lives of the institution’s long-time owners and operators, Lawrence Lewis and his sister Evelyn Lewis Horton, but, it turns out, a detour from some other research not only unearthed a good deal about the siblings, but, when it came especially to Lawrence, there were a handful of remarkably divergent paths he took on his long life. So, we’ll dedicate this post to an exploration of the strange journey he took over nearly a century.

We’ll first note, however, that it was a bit of a challenge to get a handle on Lewis’ life trajectories because he had a habit, as is not infrequent, of reinvention on multiple fronts. For example, his grave at the Fort Rosecrans military cemetery in San Diego states that he was born in 1899 and other sources align with that. Yet, he was a decade older. Moreover, he often stated in official documents that he was born in Kentucky, specifically the sparsely populated Owsley County, which is southeast of Lexington. But, he was actually born in Xiamen (formerly known as Amoy), China.

Beyond this, he had a proclivity for playing up his education, military experience and other important details (which happens today with politicians and others seeking to burnish their credentials for varied reasons). So, while he sometimes stated that he attended the University of Chicago and the University of California, Berkeley, it appears his higher education was actually at theological colleges in Kentucky and Oregon. That, moreover, leads to something else striking about Lewis’ life path. 

Before he was a “maker of men” as head of a military academy and proclaimed that he served during World War I, including three years with the British and one with the United States—none of which happened to be even remotely close to the truth—he was an itinerant Methodist minister in Kentucky, Oregon and northern California. You might expect that someone with a military background might turn to the ministry as a result of an awakening about the horrors of war and for other reasons, but Lewis flipped the script, though his rationale is not known.

As to his military service record, as well as his roughly 15-year career as a minister, those were also filled with controversy and concoctions of his pedigree. In some ways, it doesn’t appear that there was all that much change in his later life (the old canard about a leopard changing its spots or a tiger its stripes looks to apply), as well, as he cast himself as an international business figure and an expert on finance in the U.S., South America and Asia, well into his seventies.

His name, too, changed over time. When the lease with Temple was executed, he was Major Lawrence V. Lewis, but he was actually born either Llewellyn Lawrence Lewis or Lawrence Llewellyn Lewis. As noted above, he entered life at Amoy (Xiamen) in 1889 as the youngest of the two children (Ellen being four years older) of William Churchill Lewis, apparently a native of Wales (which would explain the Llewellyn moniker) and Ellen Pierce, who seems to have hailed from Scotland.

Amoy, an island off the southeastern China coast directly across from Taiwan (generally known as Formosa), was established in 1842 as a treaty port by the British when China was increasingly colonized by European powers. How William Lewis ended up there is not known, but he was a constable there as early as 1882 and later worked in the British consulate. It is also unclear how he and Ellen Pierce met and whether they were married in China or not. In any case, William died in 1892 and his widow and children remained in China for another decade. 

Whether the Boxer Rebellion, which ravaged that nation as the 20th century dawned, was a major factor or not, the Lewises migrated to Hawaii about 1903 and settled in Honolulu. Ellen, a talented pianist, married Eugene C. Horton, who was a United States inspector for lighthouses at what had recently become an American possession after the overthrow of the Hawaiian monarchy in 1893 and the short-lived republic run by Americans for five years afterward.

It took a little digging, but it was found through census and city directory sources, that the young man went by Llewellyn in those years and, as a teenager, he worked in several occupations, including with a jeweler, than with the Hawaiian Electric Company and, finally, as an assistant inspector with a government run nursery. It seems probably that the last job was secured through the help of his brother-in-law.

There is a bit of a gap in the chronology of a couple of years, but, under a new moniker, he not only left Hawaii and away from his sister and mother, who soon went to Portland, Oregon, when Eugene Horton ended up at the lighthouse district headquarters in the Rose City, but made a drastic change in vocation. He may well have gone to Oregon first, but, by spring 1913, he was in remote, rural Kentucky as the evangelist Rev. L.V. Lewis, and roamed through mostly small towns preaching the good word.

The 9 May 1913 edition of the Madisonville Hustler noted that “a series of tent revival meetings” were coming to town and that “the services will be conducted by Rev. L.V. Lewis, who has charge of a church in southern China.” It may well be that Lewis, having become evangelized either in Hawaii or in Portland went back to China during that gap noted above, during which there was the Revolution of 1911-1912, involving the overthrow of the empire and the establishment of a republic taking place at the time. Given his predilection for puffing up his pedigree, though, he may also have fabricated that he headed a church there.

In its issue of the 20th, the paper summarized the services to date as successful with Lewis and his fellow evangelist described as “forceful speakers” who “have the power of stirring up great enthusiasm in the congregation.” Crowds of up to 2,000 persons attended as Lewis sermonized under the heading of “Let Your Light So Shine” and the Hustler commented “Mr. Lewis was born in Amoy, China, his father being British consul.” After noting that he then “came to this country and married at Dickson, Tenn.,” this town being not far west of Nashville and the unnamed spouse being organist for her husband, the paper added,

In his sermon Mr. Lewis referred to the prevailing Chinese opinion that Americans were a people of deep religious convictions and that every man was a good man. What was his surprise was to find that America was a most wicked country, and that there are more crimes committed here than are ever thought of in the Chinese Empire.

In September, the Owensboro Messenger from the town along the Ohio River bordering Indiana, stated that Lewis was “a Methodist minister, who is touring the country lecturing for the Anti-White Slave association,” this part of a movement to address (in perception or reality) the purported burgeoning trafficking of young white women as prostitutes, leading to the passage of the Mann Act of 1910. A post on this blog highlighted a 1913 publication from the Museum’s collection called White Slavery in Los Angeles. The account added that “Rev. Mr. Lewis recently returned from China, where he devoted his time lecturing to the natives of that country.”

Perhaps Lewis’ success caused consternation among the mainstream religious leaders of the areas in which he was preaching, because, in March 1914, there were claims that the woman said be Mrs. Rev. Lewis wasn’t actually his wife and that this constituted a grave ethical and moral failing on his part. Another local paper, the Earlington Bee reported that there were at least two written assertions that he traveled with a woman he stated to be his wife, while Lewis vociferously denied either saying so or that he was, indeed, married.

By November, however, Lewis was still making the circuit, including at Atlanta, a major metropolis of the South unlike most of his stops, where, it was noted, local clergy were curious about “The Man From China,” who, during his impassioned services “takes off his coat to fight the devil, and literally preaches in his shirt-sleeves.” Credited with “awakening a new interest in the old-time religion of the South,” the preacher was further described:

He is a man of great oratorical and dramatic ability and shoots his Bible truths red hot at his hearers. When his coat becomes too heavy, before an eye can wink, off it goes—laid where it may fall. He pauses only to beg the ladies not to complain, as he has sleeves and a collar to his shirt, which is “more than some of the ladies can say.”

But when that collar becomes too tight, off it comes, the collar flying in one direction and the necktie in another. He is a little whirlwind in the pulpit.

The Western Christian Advocate of 25 August 1915 also referred to Lewis as “the man from China” as continued his spreading of the gospel through the Bluegrass State. The Jessamine Journal, from another small Kentucky town, quoted the Henderson Journal, published in the town in which Lewis was then residing, as observing, “much has been said in the religious and daily press regarding the ‘man from China,’ and much more could be said,” but that latter paper expressed its approval of his work and concluded that it concurred “with those who say he is equal to Billy Sunday,” the former professional baseball player who was one of the most famous evangelists of the era.

In October, Lewis was at the hamlet of Scoville in Owsley County, where at the Buck Creek Graded School, said the local Citizen, “the Rev. L.V. Lewis, the new minister of this place, . . . teaches the sixth, seventh and eighth grades; also science in the higher grades.” He appears to have settled down in that locality for at least a year and change, including at nearby Booneville, before applying in spring 1917 for the officers’ training school at Bowling Green in western Kentucky as America entered the First World War. Approval came in mid-May, but trouble came to Lewis again.

Namely, he was indicted, tried and convicted at Owsley County Court for “detaining Grace Hall against her will” and was handed a two-year term at the state penitentiary.” It was added that “it is alleged that the girl claims to have been engaged to him and preferred the charge after he married some one else,” though this other woman was not named. Kentucky Governor Augustus O. Stanley, however, pardoned Lewis in July. Another period of about three years ensues without word of Lewis’ whereabouts, so, whether he ended up fighting for the British during the conflict is an obvious question, because the next we can pick up his trail, in winter 1921, Lewis was in Portland and attending the Kimball College of Theology.

An account in the Albany [Oregon] Herald from 14 March reported that he “recently returned from the famine section in North China” claiming to have witnessed a family of seven binding themselves with rope and hurling themselves into a river because of the terrible starvation taking place. In giving his statement, Lewis told the paper “surely every man, woman and child in Oregon will want to give something towards the China Famine Fund.” While studying at Kimball, he preached at a Congregational church in Salem and, in the fall, gave a “stereopticon picture” presentation at a Methodist church on “Conditions in China: Social, Political and Religious.” It was also noted that “Rev. Mr. Lewis spent two years in the Orient,” though whether this was early in the teens or after 1917 was not explained.

Whether he graduated from Kimball or not, Lewis’ next stop was in Oakland, where, in late 1923, he became pastor of Grace Methodist Episcopal Church. That city’s Tribune of 12 January 1924 referred to him with the “Man From China” moniker and added that the previous week’s sermon was “A Challenge to the Ku Klux Klan,” which was on the rise throughout the country, including greater Los Angeles, while upcoming ones would be challenges to socialists and radicals, another grave concern to the conservative majority in Roaring Twenties America. The paper added,

Rev. L.V. Lewis . . . known as “The Man From China” because of his long residence in China, where he was born, has had a varied and world-wide experience. He has travelled through Europe, Australia, Africa, portions of Asia and the South Sea Islands, as well as widely in the old South of the United States. Dr. Lewis was born at Amoy, where his father was in the British consular service. He came to Oakland from Oregon.

Perhaps Lewis was as widely traveled as stated, given those two gap periods, but this might well have been another embellishment. He was, however, credited with improving attendance at the church and, with his “challenge” sermons, as well as one titled “Why Arrest the Bootlegger?” in which the pastor further queried, “is it right to punish the lawbreaker unless those who impel the crime or profit by it are also held responsible[?],” he certainly drew a fair amount of attention.

In September 1924, however, Lewis announced the sale of the church property to an African-American congregation of the Seventh-Day Adventist Church, which is still at the site a century later. His next stop was to the northeast at Vallejo, where he accepted the pastorate of a Methodist Church there. Aside from getting involved in some issues regarding the Navy presence in that city, his tenure was less publicly notable, though it lasted not more than about 2 1/2 years. Then came Lewis’ next transition.

In June 1927, referred to as “Dr. O.L. Lewis of Vallejo, Cal.,” by the Pennsylvania newspaper, the Allentown Call, the former minister purchased the property last used as the Bethlehem Preparatory School in the nearby town of that name. The intent was to reopen in the buildings and grounds of the seven-acre tract as the Pennton Military Institute. Lewis told the paper that he would offer junior high and high school preparatory departments for college and university entrance, as well as a commercial department for manual and vocational training. He also intended, after three or four years of getting a solid footing, to build a chapel at the school.

While it was commented that “Dr. Lewis” had an extensive background with the Y.M.C.A. and boys’ clubs, nothing was said about his years as a minister or of his experience in China. Moreover, the Bethlehem plan quickly collapsed, but Lewis picked up stakes and headed to Connersville, Indiana, roughly halfway between Cincinnati and Indianapolis and took the Pennton name with him. He acquired an 1831 mansion and announced the opening of the school for the 1927-1928 school year.

The Indianapolis Star of 2 October had this to say about the institution’s leader:

Dr. L.O. Lewis, widely experienced in military and scholastic training . . . has studied not only in this country, but in China and Australia, where he attended the Pierce academy in Hongkong [this might explain how his parents met] and Brisbane Academy in Brisbane, Australia. In addition he has studied at Willamette university, Salem, Ore., where he received his bachelor of science degree; at the University of California, where he received his doctor of philosophy degree, and at the University of Chicago.

Once again, those educational credentials are questionable and Lewis never used the “doctor” title again; moreover, the school lasted all of one semester before it folded. The next we can trace the peripatetic Lewis is to Redondo Beach and his formation of the Golden State Military Academy, with its motto of “Makers of Men.” In the 1930 census, he resumed use of Lawrence L. Lewis for the census because it was his legal name, though he kept the “V” for his middle initial for several more years. Similarly, he officially claimed Scoville, Owsley County, Kentucky as his birthplace because he did not apparently seek American citizenship. Lewis remained head of the institution for about a dozen years, leaving in 1941 to take up a commission with the United States Naval Reserve and moving to San Diego.

Shortly afterward he married X-ray technician Margaret Steckel, daughter of a prominent Los Angeles photographer and Covina rancher, George Steckel (who took portraits of the Temple family in 1919). Yet, again, more controversy ensued with Lewis and his military service record. In 1945, there was an investigation concerning his having to return more than $1,200 of pay remitted to him because he told Naval Reserve officials that he was a commissioned officer with the California National Guard from September 1928 to November 1937.

The problem was that the National Guard’s adjutant general stated that Lewis “performs no duty as an officer” because his appointment was based on a state code that “authorizes the military instructor” at schools like Golden State/Raenford “to be appointed major, or lower rank, in military academies having eight boys uniformed and drilled in direct accordance with regulations of the United States Army.” In other words, Lewis adopted the title of Major not because he had served in the military with that commission, but because he ran a school using official regulations and was given what was basically an honorific title by the Guard.

A Naval Reserves officer added that Lewis, called “Mr.” in the document, “holds no commission in any military organization of the U.S. Government.” He was, however, after resigning from the Guard in November 1937, commissioned a commander with the Reserves three months later and then enlisted with the Navy in March 1941, including some service at a Maryland training station, with discharge taking place in January 1945.

Information is somewhat sketchy for the next period of Lewis’ life, though it was announced that, with the rank of captain, Lewis was to be director of a Reserve officers’ school in July 1954. That appointment appears to have been short-lived if it ever came to be because, the following year, Lewis was in Brazil, evidently because of his leading an industrial engineering firm. In 1961, he was cited as “an expert on international business and finance” when he appeared before a San Diego industrial council to exhort them to push to make the city “an international trade center.” The Chula Vista Star News of 22 January stated,

Lewis is a retired Navy captain and a member of a family which has had continuous business interests in South America and China for a hundred years. He has been a San Diegan since 1940.

Yet again, these claims about a century of commercial activity in China, much less South America, are seeming examples of Lewis’ glorification of his experience and family history. He lived almost another quarter of a century later, dying in his mid-Nineties. When the Museum opened a few years before his death, Lewis was contacted about original Temple furniture from La Casa Nueva that he took with him when Raenford moved and which he’d evidently kept for close to a half-century, but efforts to acquire these items failed and who knows what happened to the material after his death in 1985.

This post is another of those examples on this blog of truth (or, what we know of it based on Lewis’ many enhancements and inconsistencies) being truly stranger than fiction!