by Paul R. Spitzzeri
We continue with this second part of a post on some of the early history of Children’s Hospital Los Angeles with a the fact that, with the women at the heart of the enterprise having acquired the former house of General Edward Bouton for the newly established Children’s Hospital of Los Angeles, the task turned to raising more funds for the renovation of the two-story dwelling into a suitable facility for the treatment of youngsters in need.
The 25 November 1901 edition of the Los Angeles Times reported that a doll’s fair was to be held in the middle of the next month and which “gives promise of developing into a society function. Katherine Stewart Banning, wife of Joseph and daughter-in-law of Wilmington’s “Port Admiral,” Phineas Banning, took charge of organizing the event, which was to feature more than twenty departments of dolls, including “big and little, white and colored, American and otherwise” and headed by “some well-known society woman” with five assistants. One of these was Charlotte Workman, whose sister Elizabeth was on the founding board of managers, they being daughters of City Treasurer and former Mayor William H. Workman, nephew of Homestead founders Nicolasa Urioste and William Workman.
It was added that “many dolls of high degree will grace the fair with their presence,” including ones dressed by Lucretia Garfield, the widow of the assassinated President James A. Garfield, who recently settled to Pasadena and soon moved to a South Pasadena house designed by the famous architects, Greene and Greene, who were her distant cousins, and where she died in 1918; Jessie Benton Frémont, widow of the controversial “Pathfinder” John C. Frémont; and First Lady Edith Carow Roosevelt.
The 8 December issue of the paper commented that the planning of the fair was such that it would be “so dainty, so charming and so perfect that one might imagine the lamp of Aladdin had been rubbed and the slave of the lamp had brought from the geni[e]’s store the fairy-like doll furnishings for the Los Angeles children.” Moreover, “the ladies will be in Japanese costume, and the tea service will be purely Japanese,” a notable statement given the increasingly anti-Japanese sentiment in California, including the 1910 passage of the Alien Land Law, prohibiting Asians from owning or having long-term leases of real property in the Golden State.
The 14 December fair was reported on in the Times of the following day as one in which “society was astir” in a “crowded Figueroa street with glistening coaches and handsomely-frocked ladies.” The standout feature of the many dolls on display was that representing Mrs. Frémont with the clothing made by her “from portions of her own finery, worn in the social whirl of early days,” while the hair came from “the head of the ‘Pathfinders’s’ widow.” It was added that “for sweet charity’s sake she parted with some things that must have precious memories for her.”
Among the richly decorated clubhouse were dolls dressed by the wife of U.S. Senator Thomas Bard; daughters of Governor Henry T. Gage, a Los Angeles resident of many years; the spouse of Los Angeles Mayor Meredith Snyder; and Phoebe Apperson Hearst, whose son, William, was the powerful media figure and later builder of Hearst Castle. At auction, the Frémont doll fetched above $50 more than ten times the next highest one, that of Bard.
The Los Angeles Express of the 27th observed that the fete raised well north of $5,000, with not quite half coming from donations and the rest from sales at the event and the paper added,
The proceeds will enable the managers of the Children’s hospital to open the institution with the assurance of a good beginning, and the opening will take place as soon as the beds, which were ordered by a Los Angeles firm some time ago, arrive. A large reception will mark the beginning of the philanthropic work which has been engaging the attention of so many prominent persons.
Further momentum was generated through the arrangement of theatrical presentation by amateur thespians at Alvarado Heights, south of Westlake (MacArthur) Park at the dawn of 1902, while a charity ball was held in early February that “made the fellows realize how sweet is charity” because of the young women they longed to dance with to the strains of music provided by the Santa Catalina Island Band—the island was then owned by the Banning family.
It was asserted that, while the event was for the hospital, the Beau Brummels in attendance “would have paid out another $5 and danced for the Sultan of Sulu” for the privilege of tripping the light fantastic with “that kind of a girl” in an article in the Times of the 7th that waxed poetic about the attendees and much less about the reason for the event! It was reported that proceeds approached $1,000 for an event that, notably, was arranged by men, including long-time Wells Fargo official William Pridham, banker John M. Elliott (who later had a large ranch in North Whittier [Hacienda] Heights, near the Homestead), and attorney John G. Mott, from an old Angel City family of note.
Just prior to the ball, on 21 January, there was the formal grand opening of the hospital with the Express of the day noting that visitors could view the facility from 2 to 5 and 7 to 9 p.m. and where “ample room has been made for twelve beds.” It added that “annual and life membership dues are continuing to swell the funds, and the committee in charge has a number of plans to gain further financial assistance.”
The next day’s Times observed that “the most attractive property” had “ample grounds, inclosed [sic] by a low cypress hedge” and landscaped with “numerous shade and fruit trees.” As for the Bouton residence, it was “repainted inside and out, the latter a canary color with white trimmings.” Five rooms comprised the first floor, while the upstairs was refashioned into a pair of dormitories for the young patients. Moreover, it was stated that the association engaged in a rental agreement, though there was an option for purchase.
The piece continued that “the influence of the new institution is already felt in the new neighborhood and adjoining properties are being put in repair and repainted.” The dwelling “has been completely furnished throughout, with every convenience for the matron and her patients” and, with an application approved the prior day, “the little sufferer will occupy a cot today.” One of the rooms was furnished through the offices of the prominent Friday Morning Club, which the Los Angeles Record of 28 December 1901 reported was a Christmas gift approve during a holiday “lark”.
An early mention of the hospital’s operation was recorded in the 5 February edition of the Times under the heading of “Sick Babies Don’t Cry” and which began with the statement that “nothing tugs harder at the heartstrings than a baby’s cry.” The condition of several infants was reported, including one who, having recovered from illness, “was ready to be sent home to its mamma” and, while it cried, “its rosy cheeks and vigorous manner bespoke health.”
Nearby, though, “a wee mite of humanity” lie “still as death, save for the occasional half-opening of its eyes” and with skin as “yellow as the California poppy” because of jaundice as it remained silent on its cot. The article added that “so tenderly the matron touched the cover and spoke of its severe illness” that “one’s heart warmed toward it” and the observer “felt glad for the little waifling, that it had a good home to be taken to when it was sick.”
The piece concluded that there were a pair of other babies who were “nursed to health” and returned to their parents in the little more than a week since the facility opened its doors and it was felt that the “snow-white cots” were so well-made up that, if the little ones could think for themselves, “they would wish to be there.”
Another interesting benefit event for the hospital was held at Blanchard Hall on Valentine’s Day through the organization of the Independent Church of Christ’s Ladies’ Guild, which planned to raise funds to endow a bed. “The Chinook,” a monologue written by Joseph Blethen, son of the publisher of the Seattle Times, about a society dandy from New York City and his Montana mining experiences, was performed by Clara Louise Thompson and illustrated with stereopticon photographs—these being dual images printed on cards and given a three-dimensional effect when viewed. A holiday party followed with an orchestral performance and a mock post office set up with Valentine’s cards “delivered” to the large audience.
Notable, too, was a board of managers annual meeting at the Women’s Clubhouse with a prominent women attending in large numbers and nearly $600, including from schoolchildren, raised towards “an isolated ward for contagious diseases.” Remarks were provided by Dr. “Yamai Kin”, or Kin Yamei (1864-1934), a native of Ningbo, China who was orphaned during a cholera epidemic and adopted by an American missionary couple. She studied at the Women’s Medical College of the New York Infirmary and graduated in 1885 at the top of her class. The first Chinese women to earn a medical degree in America, she went to Philadelphia and Washington, D.C. for further study.
For several years in the 1890s, she ran a hospital for women and children at Kobe, Japan before operating a facility for women and a training school for nurses in Tianjin in her native country, while also being credited for introducing tofu to Americans. Married and with a son, Kin moved from Honolulu to San Francisco in 1902 and lectured frequently on Asian culture, including an article on the Hawaiian capital’s Chinatown in The Overland Monthly. The Times of 25 January 1903 discussed Kin’s informal presentation, directed at the students representing their schools, and observed that,
The quaint, clever little woman doctor spoke principally of conditions as she found them in her medical work in the Celestial empire. With her she had various articles of clothing and domestic utensils illustrative of her remarks.
The following day’s edition of the paper published a short feature about the Children’s Hospital, including photos of the structure and “an airing” on the porch, but it stated that, while the facility had been open for a year, “little attention has been paid to this noble work by the general public.”
There was, however, a recent change as more visitors were inspecting “the private home, unpretentious but comfortable” and containing “a miniature operating room, as thoroughly modern as inadequate quarters will allow.” A nursery contained cribs donated by well-known women, while the main ward had “memorial beds” obtained the same way and “a club and an island resort,” though the paper added “there is need of more.”
The article concluded that “a large equipment all around, and a more commodious building should be given this worthy work,” while the women who ran the hospital held out hopes that “some one of means will be touched by the opportunity here presented for practical philanthropy, and aid in enlarging the scope of the Children’s Hospital.”
In May 1903, Andrew Glassell, Jr., son of a prominent attorney among whose early clients were William Workman and F.P.F. Temple, as well as their bank, hosted a fundraiser at his estate at Tropico, this now being the southern end of Glendale, and including what became Forest Lawn Cemetery. The “country fair” was deemed to be “one of the most successful and enjoyable events of the season” among the Angel City’s elite, as “under a canopy of palms and waving pepper trees,” representations of “the little Dutch maid,” “a gypsy camp and its bevy of dusky beauties,” “and a Japanese garden in the shelter of native bamboo” were highlighted features.
It was reported in the Times of 3 May that about 1,000 guests, many of them ferried there by special trains run the San Pedro, Los Angeles and Salt Lake Railroad, thronged the estate to enjoy a Japanese-style tea garden; have their fortunes told by a woman playing a gypsy; enjoy candy, popcorn, ice cream and dairy products; visit an art gallery; and see a performance of Shakespeare’s “As You Like It,” put on by seniors at the Cumnock School of Expression. Youngsters enjoyed a frolic around the May pole and it was said that the fete fetched several hundred dollars for the hospital.
Despite the fundraisers and their reported successes, the Los Angeles Record of 3 December observed that,
The Los Angeles children’s hospital still goes begging, and scores of little waifs and strays must still worry along with the ache and the pain of physical hurts, because there is not in all the city a hospital adequate to accommodate the orphan boy or girl, or the child of poor parents.
An unidentified woman of note in the city pointed out that no man (note the gendered reference) knew when his child might need the services of such a facility and stated that “the institution, once firmly established, will be a credit to the city; but money we must have. With not enough money coming in from subscriptions and “free will offerings,” the board of managers planned a dance at the end of the month intended to be “‘one of the largest social affairs of the season.”
We’ll return with a third part taking in an enlargement of the hospital, a large donation by a benefactor and other early history of the Children’s Hospital, so be sure to look out for that.