“The Children’s Hospital is an Important Need in any City”: Some Early History of Children’s Hospital Los Angeles, 1900-1914, Part Six

by Paul R. Spitzzeri

As we wrap up this extended post on some of the early history of Children’s Hospital Los Angeles, which approaches its 125th anniversary, we head to the period in which the growing institution prepared to move to a much larger home and embark on a trajectory that included further expansion through the 1920s and the end of the Homestead’s interpretive period.

An important impetus for the institution’s growth was the 1904 bequest by Elizabeth Goodwin of a piece of downtown property that promised to provide ample funding for a facility far above and beyond the modest quarters in the former residence of General Edward Bouton in which the hospital operated since its opening two years earlier. The issue was that, with long-term leases in place, the Goodwin property could not be sold for some time and the managers continued to struggle to secure the funds even for the twenty-seven beds in the facility.

The 28 October 1910 edition of the Los Angeles Record, however, ran a short announcement by Kate Page Crutcher, the president of the Association for nearly forty years, who stated that construction of the new facility was expected to begin in March and that “the site will probably be” on the four-acre tract at the southwest corner of Sunset Boulevard and Vermont Avenue donated by Emma Phillips. Phillips’ daughter, Lillian Burdette, also provided funds for the facility out of her inheritance.

The idea was for a structure with 60 beds and room for plenty of future expansion, while the the city schools’ Parent-Teacher Association was considered a sponsor given its involvement in planning. In fact, that collaboration led, the following month, to the opening of two new wards at the hospital—one for dental work and the other staffed by doctors dealing with ear, eye and throat issues.

At the end of 1910, another gift was left in a will, this from the estate of Mary B. Purcell, who came to Los Angeles from Illinois, died in May, and left an estate of some $400,000. Though there was an attempt to contest the instrument, Purcell left the Children’s Hospital a sum of $8,000. Just prior to that, during Thanksgiving week, the institution’s managers took a different tack when it came to fundraising, which usually involved entertainments offered at one of the Angel City’s theaters or fetes held at the residence of a well-heeled citizen.

The Los Angeles Express of 21 November 1910 observed that

The Children’s hospital and its needs will be brought forcibly to the attention of citizens tomorrow, and that in a manner which cannot fail to appeal to the appreciation of all advocates of direct and practical philanthropy.

Departing from the custom of former years, when a benefit entertainment seemed the only method by which funds for this worthy charity could be raised, the women of the board have decided upon the plan of asking outright for cash donations, thus doing away with much of the labor and useless expenditure involved.

What hospital leaders did was to approach banks, hotels, stores and other businesses “for space in which to erect booths for the accommodation of the women who will receive the donations” and which were to include chairs, tables and signage. The piece added that there large donations promised prior to the two-day public request “and the indications point to a successful campaign.”

It was also noted that the association, “which recently affiliated with the Los Angeles Federation of Parent-Teacher associations, is preparing to do a broader work in the future . . . especially when the new home at the corner of Sunset and Vermont avenue shall have been erected.” Another important component to the operations of the managers was the growing role of a hospital auxiliary, which had dozens of women participating in what was denoted as Donation Days.

Nearly $2,000 was realized from the initiative and the Association took out an advertisement in the Los Angeles Herald of the 29th thanking the businesses and the press for their assistance, while an article three days prior in the Express expressed appreciation to sixteen banks, fourteen commercial buildings, seven private girls’ schools, eight cafés, eight hotels and over thirty stores for their participation.

As the Christmas holiday approached, the mangers were forced to issue a public notice, not uncommon then or now, concerning the fact that “they have authorized no one to solicit . . . gifts in the name of the society,” even as the Association “are always grateful for contribution’s for the children’s Christmas.” Readers were requested to reject the importuning of solicitors and send by mail or deliver holidays gifts in person.

A feature in the Herald of 11 December was titled “Children Combat Pain Of Disease” and the article began with the comment that “ailments born of poverty are much in evidence” at the hospital “which is soon to be replaced by a larger and better institution, if the hopes of the women interested in its work are realized.” The piece was accompanied by photos of three of the very young patients at the facility.

Two-year-old Rosy, denoted as an Assyrian, had rickets “caused by bad hygienic conditions, bad air, bad surroundings, [and] poor nutrition for the mother.” It was added that the child never was able to walk and the only word she spoke was “daddy,” but using a circular walker with a cushioned seat and wheels, the toddler “propels herself around the nursery, often bringing the nurses’ necessary articles and always making sunshine.” While lacking in verbal skills, Rosy understood what was said to her “and will respond to pleasant suggestions with a radiant smile and a kiss thrown by one of the tiny undersized hands.”

Next, the Herald observed that “for the stranger attracted by the luminous eyes of Rita as she trudges from bed to bed with her toys, and who is sufficiently inquisitive to ask, ‘Who are you, little one?’ Rita has the enlightening answer: ‘Just a Mex.'” The youngster fell from the porch of her family’s house when about fifteen months old and her parents attributed her hip problems to this accident, but hospital staff stated that her malady was “tuberculosis of the hip.” Shortly after her arrival, her mother died of the lung disease and her father only sporadically visited the child after her admission.

Consequently, continued the piece,

That the child has no home feeling or a sense of family ties is easily accounted for by the fact that out of her three years of life two have been spent there: one long, painful year bound to a frame made of iron and canvas, with her suffering little body strapped tightly down to keep it in the proper position.

Notably, it was reported that Rita spent much of her time with Rosy, “assuming a motherly attitude towards her” and showing excitement as the younger girl learned something new.

A “heroic child” was Evelyn, who also had a “diseased hip” and was expected to be a long-term patient. Her father died at the Barlow Sanitarium in the Elysian Hills and her mother struggled to operate a boarding house and care for a sick son. The girl wore a plaster cast to keep her hip properly aligned and the “wearying treatment” was a challenge, though a complete recovery was anticipated. Still, “she is a good little girl, causing no trouble all day long, lying with pathetic sweetness on her bed . . . but invariably finding something worth while to play with or think about,” including the teddy bear with which she was pictured.

At the end of 1910, with the Times of the last day of the year reporting, the young patients at the hospital were treated to Schepp’s dog, pony and monkey circus, which was appearing at the newly constructed Pantages Theatre in town, entertained the children on the lawn. It was added that “those able to go out on the lawn were grouped around the animals and afterwards given rides upon the Shetland ponies,” while the rest of the patients “were propped up in windows” to watch the exhibition of the animals.

A May Day Joy Ride, in which children that were wards of other charitable endeavors, such as orphans’ homes, as well as the hospital, were taken out for a day of fun at Venice, took place in 1911 and Laura Coumont, a patient, was named the Queen of the May and was escorted for the festivities by Los Angeles County Sheriff William A. Hammell, Jr. whose family connections have been explored in a prior post on this blog. In 1912, Rosy Romo, a hospital patient, was the the May Queen for the event.

Later that month, the Times of the 24th editorialized on the need for a specialized ward in the city, given the prevalence of “malignant contagions,” with a small space at the county hospital and a smallpox isolation area for adults maintained at Chavez Ravine. The paper continued that,

Of course persons who are able to give their children care and comfort deplore the necessity of sending an infant to the County Hospital, and they rarely ever do so, although it is next to impossible to secure the right accommodations elsewhere . . . We are glad to state on authority that this painful necessity will be obviated at least within a year, as the Children’s Hospital will by that time will have a new home with a contagious ward of ample dimensions and facilities to care for any emergency that may arise. The Children’s Hospital is an important need in any city, and in Los Angeles it is one that is beautifully provided.

In her Times column “Women’s Works, Women’s Clubs” for 26 September, Sydney Ford reviewed the recent meeting of the Association board and reported that “the fact that the valuable property left to the society by the late Mrs. L.C. Goodwin is now available, makes it possible to build this much-needed hospital.” Ford added that “plans and specifications have been drawn for a handsome and commodious” three-story structure with “all the modern conveniences, and equipment of the down-to-date hospital.”

Superintendent Marian Vannier went on an inspection tour of children’s hospitals in Baltimore, Boston, Chicago and New York City, while the columnist reiterated the “lack of equipment and rooms” and the constant overcrowded conditions at the current facility. The need was such, Ford noted, that “tables are covered with mattresses, and used as cots for the sick,” though the recently constructed bungalows, constructed and kept by the PTA was a significant help.

A second edition of the Donation Days was held Thanksgiving week and brought in about $3,000, a healthy advance over the prior year. The Express of 7 October noted that, in an effort to increase capacity managers went to the step of working with “a big open piazza that has lately been screened in and fitted up to accommodate the overflow” of patients. It was recorded that nearly 60 patients were treated in July, of which about 80% were transferred from city and county institutions.

In mid-December, the Association returned to having a theatrical fundraiser, with a well-received vaudeville program offered at the Temple Auditorium. One of those involved in the planning was Frances Widney Workman, whose father Robert was a prominent lawyer, judge, real estate developer and co-founder of the University of Southern California and who was married to Boyle Workman, son of William H. Workman and Maria Boyle and later president of the City Council.

Delays mounted with respect to the Goodwin property, despite the news above, and it was not until late September 1912 that the 60-foot front and 155-foot deep holding was sold to a local syndicate for $225,000 in cash. The windfall, however, meant that the monies “will at once be appropriated for construction of the four fireproof buildings, for which plans were recently completed by Hunt and Burns,” this being the firm comprised of architects Sumner P. Hunt and Silas Burns. The quartet of structures were to include a main block, a general ward, the nurses’ quarters and a powerhouse, with space for three future edifices. The current cost estimate ranged from $150,000-$200,000 for a facility with a capacity for 100 patients.

Notably, it was pointed out by the Times of the 25th that the sale price was ridiculously low because a 35-year lease, at a rate anywhere from 33% to 40% under market rate, was executed at a time when anything south of Fifth Street was considered too far from the business center of the city. Rather than wait until 1923 for the lease to expire, it was finally decided by the Association’s leadership to sell the property, even at a significantly lower price than would be commanded if the property was not tied up by the lease.

A particularly sad story came in mid-November when a fire roared through the Hotel St. George on 3rd Street just east of Main, causing three fatalities and about a dozen injuries. One of those who died was Charlotte Harrington, a theater actor appearing at the Empress Theatre who went by the stage name of Ellen Moran. She leapt from a sixth-floor window as flames closed in, but fell wide of a safety net and died of a skull fracture.

Some reports stated that she jumped with her six-month old son and, seeing that she would miss the net, threw the baby into it, while what was considered more accurate is that a firefighter found the child in a hallway and dropped the baby into the arms of a colleague. The infant was taken to Children’s Hospital for treatment and recovery. A positive story at the time concerned the dropping of a foundling on the hospital’s front steps, but the report that the baby was all but certain to be quickly adopted.

A week later, the groundbreaking for the new facility was held with Episcopalian minister, the Rev. Baker P. Lee, blessing the site, while addresses were given by Mayor George Alexander and representatives from the Chamber of Commerce and the Merchants’ and Manufacturers’ Association, among others. Rita Belmar, a long-term patient who was soon released to return to her family and home, turned the first spade of earth as nine other children from the facility were able to make the trip to the new location.

There was little reference to the construction of the new hospital, but significant coverage of its grand opening, after a slight delay, on 7 February 1914. An important feature is the President Woodrow Wilson inaugurated the nascent facility by pressing a button which activated “electric lights all through the great building” and “bells in various parts of the building will ring.” The complex was deemed by the Express of that day as “one of the finest equipped institutions of its kind in the United States, if not in the world.”

Attorney Henry W. O’Melveny, who represented the Goodwin estate, and Dr. Milbank Johnson, a prominent figure in the Angel City’s medical realm, provided orations and a band entertained those in attendance. The program, however, was kept short and no solicitation for donations was to be made to allow for visitors to have ample time to inspect the buildings, with the following day also set aside for guests to take in the facility.

The Times of the prior day observed that “handsome private apartments” in the hospital were set aside for those patients whose families could afford to fully pay for their care and this was anticipated to be a source of revenue. Otherwise, pledges were sought for persons willing to give $100 a year for two years and children were asked to establish clubs to “contribute their nickels and dimes to a fund for the support of their less fortunate fellows.” The account ended with the note that “the structure is imposing and ideal, and the location incomparably beautiful, commanding an unbroken view of the mountains and overlooking the western part of the city.”

Two days later, the Express reported that up to 3,000 persons visited the hospital, with a revised capacity of 150 patients, over the two days and it was added that a good deal of interest was taken in the screened sleeping porches, while the operating room and nurses’ quarters were also of note. The paper continued that

The occupied wards of course, attracted everybody. The tots were alert to greet each new comer and to extend the heartiest kind of a welcome.

While a prior post here focused on a 1921 fundraiser for the hospital, we may well return with another post, featuring some of the 1929 documents that were shared in the early parts of this offering, and discuss some of the history of the facility during that period.