by Paul R. Spitzzeri
As has been oft-stated here before, there were so many factors and consequences of the astounding growth of greater Los Angeles in the late 19th and early 20th centuries and the same can be said for the remarkable expansion of the operations of the federal government, regionally and broadly.
As boom after boom took place from after the Civil War until the Great Depression, moderated somewhat by busts and financial depressions and downturns, the complexity of local government at the city and county levels, as well as at Sacramento, was accompanied by greater involvement and investment from Washington, D.C.
Some posts here have referred to the growing federal expenditures at what became the Port of Los Angeles, a stunning transformation of a less-than-impressive harbor at San Pedro and Wilmington to one of the nation’s busiest ports through a massive human-made effort over many decades, but there was also expansion of such entities as the federal district court and, especially, the postal service.
When the Angel City under its first period of significant and sustained expansion in the late 1860s and first half of the 1870s, the post office was a modest enterprise with the postmaster handling virtually all responsibilities in rented spaces, including from F.P.F. Temple, who supplied a location in one of his additions to the Temple Block, the commercial core of a growing downtown.
At one time, the post office was situated in another early important business building, the Downey Block, which stood across Temple Street from the Temple Block, and which was constructed in 1868 by ex-Governor John G. Downey. But, as federal involvement grew, there was an effort from the middle 1880s, when the great Boom of the Eighties was on in the region, to establish a purpose-built post office that culminated in the opening in summer 1892 of a facility on the east side of Main Street at Winston Street between 4th and 5th streets. Notably, local property owners raised half the $55,000 for the purchase of the lot.
The fact that it took more than a half-decade to get the structure completed, however, exposed a typical problem with federal buildings in large cities; namely, by the time these were finished, they were often not large enough to accommodate rapid growth or else it was just a matter of several years before that issue arose. As the 20th century dawned, and the next big boom came, it was clear that a new and much larger post office was needed, while there was also a desire to unify other federal operations, such as the district court, in one building.
Again, it took several years, but, by spring 1904, it was finally decided that the Downey Block was a good location for what was simply deemed the “Federal Building,” though other locations, including Central Park (Pershing Square) and at Spring and 8th streets where a temporary site was established for the post office when the Main and Winston locale was abandoned (and where Walter P. Temple and other investors constructed two commercial structures in the Twenties) were considered.
The Los Angeles Times of 13 May 1904 lionized the Angel City by proclaiming that “thanks to her public-spirited citizens, to her patriotism, to her get-up-and-hustle” and to United States Senator Thomas R. Bard’s lobbying efforts, the edifice was assured. It also reported that Frank P. Flint, soon to replace Bard in Washington and whose brother, Motley, just happened to be postmaster, future mayor Arthur C. Harper (who was recalled from office as the federal building was under construction) and Joseph Mesmer were trustees for business figures and property owners who acquired the Downey Block for some $200,000 and presented it to the feds. Finally, the late Thomas D. Mott was credited with first raising the idea of locating the building at the site, while his attorney son, John, worked with the trustees on the legal work.
Horace A. Taylor, the assistant secretary of the Department of the Treasury, told the paper that:
This gives you in Los Angeles a public building costing above the ground about $1,000,000 [one wonders what the below surface cost would have been!]. I am glad of it. You deserve it. Your people have shown public spirit of the right kind . . . As soon as the transfer [of title to the Downey Block] is made, we shall sell the old postoffice [sic] site, and then when we know how much money we will get from that, we will make our plans and proceed to build a new Federal building in Los Angeles.
The Times also lauded the decision in an editorial the same day, citing the six-story structure’s proximity to rail depots, street railway lines, wholesale and retain shopping areas and general centrality in the city.
Relative simple and straightforward as that sounded, it is hardly shocking, given the slow turn of the wheel of federal bureaucracy and other factors, that the project dragged on far longer than anyone would have anticipated or, at least, stated publicly, as one official expressed confidence the structure could be completed and opened in two years.
It was also not surprising that, once the Downey Block site was selected, discussion also included a new city hall and other civic structures being placed in this area, as the municipal headquarters on Broadway between 2nd and 3rd and completed a few years before the Main Street post office opened was also grossly inadequate in a booming city. One location that was pushed heavily was the Temple Block.
The Downey Block, lasting not quite four decades, was leveled in late spring 1905 and excavation work for the federal structure, the cost then pegged at $1.2 million, began. Delays ensued for a variety of reasons, including problems preparing the site, but also in discussions about materials, with many, for example, wanting only California stone to be used for the facing. Ultimately, though, Arizona sandstone ended up being utilized. While there was also talk of having the steel made locally, that, too, was imported, in this case from Iowa.
It already being understood that, two-and-a-half years after the site’s acquisition, the original design was inadequate, the 30 December edition of the Times reported that another 10,000 square feet was being incorporated and “pending the completion of these plans . . . [the construction superintendent] has been ordered to hold up all construction here.” This additional space was worked out by altering a design feature that seemed to make no sense to anyone and left what was termed “waste space,” as well as expanding the basement. It was added, though, that it was expected that a month was all that it would take to work everything out and get building work going.
In its 15 April 1907 issue, the Los Angeles Herald lamented the glacial pace of the project, observing that “the promised Los Angeles federal building has been dangling in public view some seven or eight years, always nearly within reach,” and, yet, it continued,
Children have grown to maternity [maturity] and middle-aged citizens have become gray and decrepit since the government decided to supplant the old federal building at Main and Winston streets with an adequate modern structure . . .
And, now, after many years of backing and filling in the matter of a site, and the consequent exasperating delays, the federal authorities report that nothing can be done in the way of construction work until a conclusion is reached about the kind of stone that shall be used in the structure.
The population of Los Angeles has trebled since the new federal building was projected. From present appearances it may treble again before the gray and bald-headed promise materializes. The latest development in connection with the project is the admission that it will be inadequate for the purpose by the time of its completion, no matter how energetically it might be pushed.
It was more than a half-year later that the Los Angeles Express of 13 November touted “rapid progress” by reporting that “the Los Angeles federal building is beginning to rear its stately and substantial lines above the excavation in which its foundation is embedded.” This was because “the comparative silence there has been broken by the resonance of ringing steel and the groan of powerful crane, as men and steam bend their strength to the assembling of the steel skeleton of the structural colossus.”
The foundation was finally nearing finishing so that steel columns could be placed and it was averred that “there is not likely to be further delay between now and the end of the three years which, it is estimated, will be required before the building is turned over to the United States government, a finished example of the builder’s art.” The last of the steel shipments from Des Moines were en route and light gray granite for the exterior walls was in preparation, while it was noted that the aforementioned changes involved an expenditure of $50,000 for a total cost of just north of $950,000 to date. This did not, however, account for marble and terrazzo floors, elevators, electrical work, heating and more.
Nearly a year later, the Times of 24 September 1908 reported that a shipment of Arizona sandstone arrived, while, “within the past week, the huge structure has crawled skyward two additional stories” and in two more weeks the sandstone was to be added. The superintendent noted that work that was less obvious to visitors would be far more so because of the stonework and predicted the edifice would be ready for use by July 1910. It was also mentioned by officials that, if current city growth continued, there would be a need to buy the land directly north of the structure for an addition or wing.
The Express of 16 November published a photograph taken from the southwest showing the steel framing for the upper floor completed and stone work on the first level exterior in place, with the expectation that all steel installation and granite work was to be done in a month and the July 1910 opening date was still considered valid. Even though there were calls to open the post office on the first two floors while work continued in the upper levels, it was deemed not possible to do so.
The 10 April 1909 edition of the paper included a view with a short article observing that “the construction . . . has progressed to such an extent as to give a somewhat comprehensive idea of what will be the outlines of the handsome structure.” Seventy-five stonecutters were at work in shifts all day and night with nearly double that amount working on the structure as a whole. Stone work was projected to be finished by September and the roof in two months beyond then. It was noted that the original contract called for completion of the building by September, but the latest calculation was another year from that date, while the cost was pegged at not far under $1.1 million.
The latest estimate was almost correct. By September 1910, plans were underway to transfer the operations of the federal court from space in the Tajo Building, built by Simona Bradbury, whose husband, Lewis, built the famous Bradbury Building, as well as the post office. The courts did open for business in the structure on the 26th, while postal services began three days later, both with public ceremonies.
A citizens’ committee organized the dedication, originally planned for the 5th of October, but the horrific domestic terrorist bombing of the Times building on the 1st led officials to postpone for ten days. At least, on the 15th, the opening ceremonies were held with the Los Angeles Record of two days later, observing, “a patriotic throng of 5000 persons” were present and “from the time the program started until the close, the air was filled with patriotic songs, shouts, speeches and music.”
The Express of the same day added that visitors roamed the halls of the edifice from 7 p.m. until late in the evening, while offices were opened and “the public was allowed to inspect every nook and corner.” It was noted that hundreds of persons came from outside the city and heard music and remarks on Main Street, where 2,000 chairs were placed. The paper concluded that “the climax of the program was when the band played ‘America,’ which was a signal for flags to be waved from every window on the six floors of the Main street side.”
The Herald of the prior day went into more detail, adding that, beyond the flags, there was “the red glare of rockets lighting the skies” and 4,000 persons were present to celebrate. It noted that “the big building was ablaze with light” and that “the interior of the building on all floors was decorated in flowers and flags” and bands were placed at the four corners to perform “patriotic airs at intervals.”
Mayor George Alexander, a reform candidate elected to office after the recall of Arthur C. Harper, told the assemblage that,
The only trouble in building our public buildings is that in five years we have grown so fast that they are not large enough. I hope to see another building [city hall] put up across the street [where the Temple Block was situated]. I remember twenty-five years ago our postoffice [sic] traveled all over town like a tamale wagon. Now we have a united headquarters. It’s the Los Angeles way of doing things.
The city’s chief executive continued, “I want to see the county and city government consolidated,” not unlike San Francisco, presumably, “It’s coming anyway, and there is nothing that can stop it, so all of you get on the band wagon and help push it along.” Alexander boasted that “the eyes of the entire world are on us because we represent clean municipal government and the best home life . . . We want clean government here all the time. This is no place for grafters.”
The Times rejoiced at the “Shouts for [the] Noble Pile” and offered that, as “My Country ‘Tis of Three” was played and its emotions may well have been driven by the attack on its headquarters two weeks earlier,
Five thousands voices hurled it at the stars. Temple Block pulsed with it. For blocks the night throbbed with it. Bared heads lifted, pillars of red light gleaming. Old Glory waving—”Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrims pride”—Lord, how Los Angeles sang it last night at the pivotal point of Temple Block where for a circle of a thousand yards a happy multitude with boundless enthusiasm entered with joy into the celebration marking the conclusion of the splendid new Federal building.
The paper added that Alexander appropriately resembled Uncle Sam in visage and noted that he received loud cheers for his remarks and also cited the invocation of the Rev. Dana Bartlett and his prayer that the building’s granite and steel would reflect the citizenship of Americans. Joseph Scott, known as “Mr. Los Angeles” and then the president of the powerful Chamber of Commerce was also paraphrased in his remarks.
It was also noted that the building was the home of the courts and post office as well as federal customs enforcement, the local branch of the secret service, the federal marshal, the land office, the Bureau of Reclamation and the office of the U.S. Geological Survey. The event chair, Garner Curran, offered this notable remark,
Surely we should all unite and use our great energy, our brains, our wealth, our artistic abilities in making Los Angeles the most beautiful and the most sanitary city in the world.
To do this each citizen must keep his own property clean, public and private corporations must plan for the future, and all the old mossbacks [old-fashioned, reactionary persons] should immediately divide their property among their most progressive heirs.
In the aftermath of the opening, articles reported on a controversy in which white men who expected to secure employment as elevator operators were told their failed their civil service examinations, but claimed that this determination was “due to a peculiar error” and were, moreover, “stirred over the fact that they have been replaced by negroes,” while another featured the work of telephone operator Daisy Hartman, who was employed by two local phone companies handling the service, not the federal government, and handled two switchboards with over 120 stations in the edifice.
The highlighted objects from the Museum’s collection for this post are a pair of ribbons, one for one of the vice-presidents and another for an invited guest, for the opening ceremony, while we also share a couple of photos from our holdings showing the structure. It, however, only lasted for a bit more than a quarter of century and was razed in 1937 to make way for the federal courthouse and post office that opened three years later and is still with us.