by Paul R. Spitzzeri
Taking our discussion of some of the history of the world-record Sierra Madre wisteria/wistaria vine, into the Roaring Twenties, we note that its owners, Henry T. and Estelle Haines Fennel, had promoted it extensively through their community work—he, with the town Board of Trade, developing a scenic route with the Automobile Club of Southern California that encouraged visitors as cars became the dominant way to get around in the auto-centric region and she through her work with organizations that emphasized the landscape of Sierra Madre.
The couple and their children, Viola and Lester, however, became overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of visitors as greater Los Angeles experienced another of its many boom periods in the early part of the decade and which peaked in 1923. The Pasadena Post of 28 April reported that they’d reached a breaking point,
Because of the fact that the thousands of sightseers who visited the famous wisteria vine . . . are destructive to the property and have already caused considerable damage, notice was given the city, that Scenic Point road [a private lane of the Fennels] will be closed and the vine would no longer be open to the gaze of the public.
The paper added that Henry informed it that “20,000 machines stopped at his place already this season” to look at what was adjudged to be the largest vine on Earth, as well as to enjoy the fine view. The piece ended with the note that barriers at the end of Auburn Avenue and the Auto Club signs which Fennel worked to have placed directing drivers to the vine were to be removed. The edition of the Monrovia News two days later added that Fennel came to his decision reluctantly “for his own protection.”

Towards the end of the May, observed the Los Angeles Times of the 23rd, Sierra Madre’s City Marshal Arthur M. Udell was informed that “a whole colony of people was holding a big celebration” near the wisteria vine and so “rushed to the scene of the difficulty, where he found seven carloads of picnickers.” Arriving in civilian garb and thus not recognized as a police officer, Udell found that those in the gathering “were not at all bashful in demanding . . . his identity and what it was to him” that they were enjoying their outing, before he flashed a “very large, shiny and impressive badge” and “persuaded the seven carloads to depart.”
Despite the prohibition (who knew how many of the revelers, and others, brought illicit libations during Prohibition?) pronounced by the Fennels, a deal was soon struck with the city fathers. At the end of 1923, the Los Angeles Express of 8 December reported that “Sierra Madre is to be called henceforth ‘The Wisteria City,'” as the town’s woman’s club, of which Estelle was an active member, sponsored “the movement [which] has gained such an impetus that all outgoing Christmas mail is being decorated with painted sprays of the lavender flower.”

Moreover, continued the paper, Henry was cited as stating that “in the spring everyone will plant this fragrant climber” so that, within a few years, “Japan will be outrivaled by Southern California’s floral display which will make Sierra Madre a mecca for travelers from all parts of the world.” While this was a sentiment expressed in prior years as he and Estelle encouraged such pilgrimages, it is a little surprising that, just a half-year earlier, they were so disgusted by the onslaught of visitors that they abruptly closed off access to the vine.
In any case, the “wisteria fete” returned for sixteen days encompassing the latter half of March, with the woman’s club superintending the event and the News of the 10th commented that a ball was to be held at the organization’s clubhouse, while there would be days focused on music, movies and Shakespeare (something, perhaps, of a continuation of a tradition that included a Dickensian offering and likely inspired by Estelle’s long-ago career as a staffer at the Los Angeles Public Library.) In addition, the club printed and sold wisteria-themed stationery, sales of which filled its coffers.

Tea, cooked food and a bazaar were also in the works and the Fennel’s vine was again cited for its status as a mecca for visitors including during First World War when it was the scene of events supported by the local Red Cross chapter. The account ended that,
now the Woman’s Club has taken it up as a bit of civic work and of interest to all those who love the Southland to see one single vine with its millions of lilac-colored clustered blossoms hanging like tassels in the golden days of a California spring.
In its issue of the 14th, the Times recorded that “society women of Sierra Madre . . . opened the much-heralded Wisteria fete at Scenic Point by entertaining several hundred visitors and citizens” under the vine, then in full bloom. Other groups assisting with the event were the town’s Chamber of Commerce and Civic Association, while “the Boy Scouts are also interested and assist in parking the cars and handling the crowds.” No doubt, this last reference to organization was a key condition for the Fennels in allowing the annual event to continue.

With the onset of radio broadcasting only about two-and-a-half years old, the News of the 21st reported that “tonight between 9 and 10 o’clock the Sierra Madre Civic Association will present a special Sierra Madre program which will prove of exceptional interest at this time since the Wisteria fete now in progress is bringing hundreds of visitors to the foothill city.” Forgetting to provide the call letters, the paper noted that Mayor Robert Mitchell was to provide a short address and be followed by his 11-year-old pianist son, Bob, as well as a singers, violinists, pianists and a reading by a writers of boys’ stories. It was mentioned that Sierra Madre performers were “featured from time to time from the [Los Angeles] Examiner Studio,” so the station was the newspaper’s KWH, which existed from 1922 to 1925.
On the last day of the month, the Times briefly summarized the festival by noting that 35,000 persons visited over the two-week period and “a register was kept of every visitor” including “tourists from various parts of the United States as well as abroad.” Even after the closing of the event, however, the vine was promoted with the Whittier News of 7 April observing that “now is the very best time to see it” as “the vine is still a mass of beauty.” Moreover, it noted that there were geraniums and roses as well as the fact that “the fragrance of orange blossoms complements the delicate aroma of the wistaria.” Quaker City residents were directed to head north on the Lexington (Rosemead) road through El Monte and “through the Town of Temple,” founded the prior year on the way to Sierra Madre.

The Times of the 13th ran a photo of Woman’s Club members “under the world’s largest wistaria vine,” including the organization’s president, Mrs. William J. Lawless and Viola Fennel, though the image is not particularly easy to see in its available form. Carrying through on their “Wisteria City” program, officials of the club planted a vine in front of the organization’s headquarters and the Times of the 30th published a photo of the event, with Estelle Fennel holding the plant for the Club’s founder, Mrs. J.A. Osgood, as she ceremonially placed a shovelful of dirt on it.
The 1925 edition of the fete was held from 21 March to 5 April and heavy rain marked the last week of the event, crowd control of which was under the supervision of Udell, now the police chief in town. For a period after the festival, a “Wistaria Vine Tea Gardens” was operated by Estelle Fennel, with hours daily from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. for May and on Sundays only after the first of June, though it is unclear whether the enterprise lasted beyond mid-July. Tragedy struck the Fennel household on Christmas Day, however, when Henry, who was 56 years old and was said to be in good health, went to take a nap before the family sat down for the holiday dinner and could not be roused.

Despite the terrible loss, Estelle allowed the vine and property to again be the scene of the festival and the News of 8 March enthused and inquired,
Wistaria week! Even the words sound beautiful! And apropos of this annual fete at the exquisite little hillside village of Sierra Madre—what would become of many of California’s loveliest traditions were it not for the women?
They seem to possess an uncanny flair for emprasizing [sic] all the human habits and touches that prosaic men overlook.
Smart people, not only from Los Angeles, but from all corners of the world, are momentarily forsaking their tea cups and masseuses for a visit to Sierra Madre’s Wistaria celebration.
For the 1927 edition of the event, managed by the Sierra Madre men’s masonic lodge and the women’s Order of the Eastern Star, there were some features run in the regional press, including the Times Sunday edition on 27 March, the day after the festival began and it was observed that “with the exception of the ‘Mother grapevine’ at the old San Gabriel mission, it is doubtful if there is another vine of any sort that maintains such continual interest as the remarkable wistaria that has for many years been giving the little mountain city of Sierra Madre so fragrant a fame.”

Dennis Stovall, the writer who provided a reading for the 1924 radio program, sent a description to the paper, including his observation that “it owes its wonderful spread more to training and care than to age, for the better part of its growth has been made during the past fifteen years” under the “devoted attention of Mrs. Fennel and her husband.” In fact, the account continued, for Henry, the maintenance of the vine “was almost the breath of life” and he experienced great pleasure in watching it grow and in the interest visitors took (well, not in 1923!)
Stovall revealed that Fennel realized that training the tendrils (or “runners”) upward and along a wire before they curled and drooped allowed them to remain green and spread far more than if they were left to their own devices. Given that the winter of 1926-1927 featured a significant amount of rainfall, leading to extensive flooding in greater Los Angeles, “and other climactic conditions, the blossoms are reported to be larger and lovelier this spring than for a number of years.”

The 5 April issue of the Hollywood Citizen featured a large collage of a quartet of images, including a drawing of Japanese women in traditional clothing among a wisteria vine, while Sierra Madre resident Bertha Hirsch was posed in a kimono and a wagasa (umbrella) next to the Fennel vine, as well as next to a Star sedan. The vehicle, of course, was photographed because writer Roy A. McMillan noted that “thousands of Southern Californians in the next few days will load their families into the family car” for a visit to see the famous vine.
McMillan wrote that, when the Fennels acquired the Burgman residence and the plant they placed at its front in 1894, the vine did not “excite any great amount of wonder,” but Henry Fennel “had dreams of a wisteria vine that would be the biggest of its kind in the section and he did everything he knew to bring it about.” McMillan copied Stovall’s account of the training process, though he added that, while some towns were known for persons, industry, or “a freak formation,” the situation here was that “Sierra Madre has acquired an almost national reputation” because of the vine and he concluded that “seemingly, like most humans, it thrives from applause.”

An added attraction for the 1927 festival was the announcement in the News of 22 March that “Mary Pickford, film star, has accepted the invitation of the City of Sierra Madre to be present at the opening” four days later. The actor, known for years as “America’s Sweetheart,” was a speaker at the Association of City Planners monthly meeting held in Monrovia and agreed to take part in the ceremony inaugurating the fete. Another detail for that year was the report in the paper on the 3rd that “the entire lower floor” of the Fennel residence “will be available for use during the festival.”
The fame of the Fennel vine was said to be the motivation for the establishment, soon after the event, of a Sierra Madre Botanical Society, which aimed to establish a botanical garden on 80 acres in Bailey Canyon, just a short distance west of the famed wisteria plant. The Times of 5 June provided a good deal of detail about plans for the garden, mentioned in the context of the famous nearby one of Henry E. Huntington (who died a few months later) and others at Harvard University, in St. Louis and at the nation’s capital. Despite an impressive roster of committee members, including Estelle Fennel, as well as Dr. W. Jarvis Barlow, USC’s president Rufus von KleinSmid and dozens of others, the garden did not come to fruition, though the Bailey Canyon Wilderness Park is on the site now.

The festival for 1928 was held from 10-25 March and, two days after the opening, the horrific St. Francis Dam collapse, which killed hundreds, took place, leading organizers of the fete to offer all proceeds from sales on the 16th to those impacted by the disaster. Another different component to the event for that year was that the May Company department store sponsored parlor cars for a $1.25 round trip price to ferry visitors to Sierra Madre to enjoy the vine and festivities. A further innovation, as reported by the Times as the event closed, was that it was filmed for a newsreel—these being shown before the feature at movie theaters.
The South Pasadena Foothill Review of the 30th reported that “ten thousand people visited the Wistaria fete by the Sierra Madre Woman’s Club, which, as before, directed proceeds towards the relief of its debt, during the time” that the plant was in bloom and that this was a record-breaking number, suggestive that the vine was not in bloom until the end of the two-week period. Moreover, the Times informed readers that “it is said by old-timers here that the vine did not reach its usual beauty this year because of cool weather.”

The highlighted photo for this post is from 8 April and is inscribed “Wistaria Vine 400′ long” with two women wearing calf-length black coats and cloche hats standing next to a pergola with large sections of the plan above them. The famed plant continued to be a draw into the Great Depression years, though Estelle Fennel, who was feted on her 90th birthday in 1959 shortly before her death as the mother of the vine, sold the property in late 1936 to Mrs. Lawless, former president of the Woman’s Club. In the decades since, including the subdivision of Scenic Point, so that the vine is now on two properties, the Wistaria Festival still is held, though it is now a one-day street festival with shuttle visits to see the vine.
The blog beautifully portrays the rich history of the Wisteria Fete, tracing its origins as merely a potted flower through the hands of various property owners over so many years.
One aspect that left me pondering after reading the blog is why the Sierra Madrid’s annual festival seemed to garner significantly more public attention a century ago compared to today. According to my own experience, despite its century-long presence, my multiple times of mentioning this gem to individuals across California often yielded blank stares, even from those residing in cities close to Sierra Madre.
It’s disheartening that such a renowned plant, dubbed the world’s number one, remains relatively unknown. While its location on private property may limit its exposure, one can’t help but wonder how people a hundred years ago managed to showcase it more effectively without the aid of the internet or television, especially considering the smaller population of Southern California at the time.
Thanks, Larry. It is certainly notable that tens of thousands of visitors would descend on Sierra Madre to see the wisteria/wistaria vine a century ago compared to what happens today, though the city remains proud of its claim to floral fame. One question to ponder is: how long will the vine live?