by Paul R. Spitzzeri
On 4 September 1939, an “informal luncheon” of some 200 persons was held at the Women’s Athletic Club in Los Angeles, which was celebrating its 158th birthday (a date confirmed in 1931 by Thomas W. Temple II), with prime mover Mary Foy remarking to friends, “let’s have a party—just a small group of the ‘first century’ people.”
Among those who assisted Foy in organizing the event was Charlotte Workman Masson, daughter of former mayor and city treasurer William H. Workman (nephew of Homestead founders William Workman and Nicolasa Urioste) and Maria E. Boyle. Foy added that a major reason for the lunch was “the inspiration for many of you to write down the interesting things in your family history.”
Masson’s sister, Mary Julia Workman, quickly took up the idea with the Los Angeles Times of the 5th recording, “Miss Mary Workman is writing such an informal history she told the gathering. ‘I am calling it “Loose Leaves From the Family Tree.” Others involved in that inaugural happening came from the Banning, Dunkelberger, Perry, Rose and Winston and it was such a success that it was reported that the “suggestion to make the luncheon an annual affair, to keep the program an informal one with no other object than to keep alive the traditions of early California was enthusiastically greeted by the audience.”
The name of “First Century Families” was then adopted and, excepting two years during the COVID pandemic, the event has been held each fall, though somewhat more formally than those early years. I’ve been fortunate to attend several of these luncheons over the years and to have taken part, many years ago, in a collective Workman and Temple family presentation, and this year I was honored to be the guest of Workman family members carrying on the tradition in which Charlotte Masson and Mary Julia Workman were founders.
The speaker James Michael Doyle gave a fine talk with many illustrations on “The Many Beach Clubs of Santa Monica with a string of such establishments along the shoreline, including “The Beach Club,” which is one of three surviving clubs, with the Saltair and the Jonathan Club, on that stretch. Another notable club was the Deauville, which has been profiled previously in a post on this blog and, inspired by Doyle’s presentation, this post looks at some early leisure activities at Santa Monica between 1868 and 1871, several years before the town was established.
It is worth noting that, despite the many miles of beautiful sandy beaches in greater Los Angeles from what became Orange County to today’s Malibu, there was little general interest in locals utilizing the shore for picnics, camping and the like until the first boom hit the region in the late 1860s (this was largely true for the remarkable reaches of our local mountains, as well). But, the Los Angeles News of 28 April 1868 reported briefly of the “Good Templar’s May-Day Picnic,” with the temperance society holding “a social gathering at Santa Monica.” The paper added,
Unlike many of those celebrations that have taken place on the first of May by the citizens of our city, no intoxicating liquors will be taken to the grounds, therefore there is no danger of drunken brawls; but plenty of lemonade, tea, coffee, cakes, fruit—not forgetting the substantials in the way of turkeys, chickens, &c. Oration, songs and a variety of amusements will be the order of the day, and those who feel desirous of participating in this fete, and enjoy a day away from the cares and dust of a city, are cordially invited to participate.
The 5 May edition of the News summarized the picnic and noted that unexpected rain came to those heading out from the Angel City to the shore and it was reported that some on the excursion “returned with disgust” to Los Angeles while others were undeterred and continued on to Santa Monica despite the showers.
It was added that “during a lull in the storm the hampers of good things were gotten out and all hands pitched in” in serving a wide array of victuals, including corned beef, ham, sandwiches, seafood like oysters and lobster, doughnuts, cake, strawberries and milk. The News, however, continued that “alas! in the midst of the meal, down came the rain harder than before,” though “the more it rained the more heartily they ate, until even the Good Templars thought they had more water than their share, and headed for home, where they arrived in a rather ‘disorganized’ condition.”
Despite the disappointed conclusion to the much-anticipated outing, the paper commented, “Santa Monica is a charming spot—a beautiful grove, through which runs a clear stream of water, and adjoins the ocean.” At the end of September, the Los Angeles Star of 3 October reported, “a number of our fellow-citizens, of the German persuasion, to the number of about thirty, went on a pleasure excursion, to Santa Monica . . . and enjoyed themselves as only Germans know how to do.” We can assume that this meant, in contrast to the teetotalers, copious amounts of beer and wine.
While it was another two years before Angel City papers remarked on the locale’s attractions, it is almost certain that informal parties regularly made their way out to the shore during the rest of 1868 and in the following year. As summer 1870 neared, the Star of 2 June remarked that, the following day, “a select party of young ladies and gentlemen of this city will leave for Santa Monica, to pass a day in the forest [likely in the Santa Monica/Rustic canyons area] and on the sea shore,” though there was a mild complaint that, with the gathering being on a weekday, an editor of the the paper likely couldn’t attend—but a Sunday would exclude churchgoers, as well.
The edition of the 4th, however, showed that a representative did make it and a lengthy review was published, with the party arriving in the late morning “to pass a day in Nature’s Solitude” and that “after a rest and pleasant stroll,” the group “seated themselves beneath the shady trees and partook of a most sumptuous luncheon.” The paper remarked that,
The party was happily selected and made up of those whose tastes and feelings were congenial, and among whom no jealousies, back-bitings and scandal-retailings could by any possibility be indulged in, even to the least degree. With this condition insured at the start, the general happiness and enjoyment of all, followed as a matter of course.
Some of the group climbed the west edge of the Santa Monica Mountains to enjoy the panoramic view of some of the Channel Islands and ships plying the Pacific “and thus indulged their tastes for the grand, majestic and sublime or took to the forested canyons. Others “strolled far along the smooth, wave-washed and ever-murmuring sea-shore” and “enjoyed the sweeter sense of romance.”
The Star representative, however, had trouble getting to the shore, including mention that he left “without our girl, who is uncongenial,” noting that roads heading west needed some sort of signage, or “guide boards,” as some five miles from Los Angeles, the reporter ended up in farm fields before trusting to instinct. Then came the bursting of several bottles of champagne because of the rough ride and another instance of getting lost.
At this point, “we inquired of a Mexican, who was making an addition to his seven-by-nine hut, as to the general direction and location of our objective point.” The man appeared to direct attention to the Santa Monica range “and told us that the ‘City of Santa Monica’ lay just by that mountain.” Finding a road, the Star representative “went into the foot-hills, into Sepulveda’s Cañon” and “through dreary hills and bleak mountains, fearful of grizzlies” but hopeful of sighting the location of the party.
More time was lost in retracing steps and it was not until 1 p.m., four hours after leaving the Angel City, that Santa Monica was reached (this could almost be a rush-hour commute today!) and the reporter concluded with the statement that
After a day of rural pleasure and rustic enjoyments, the party collected and stated homeward, where they arrived, joyous and singing, at about the hour of nine in the evening. It is the belief that all are happy, and that no serious heart-aches have been, or will be, caused by the jaunt.
The 18 August issue of the Star ran an advertisement by William M. Fleming for the grand opening of his saloon at Santa Monica, while the following day’s edition of the News reported that conditions were such that daily stages were being run from Los Angeles to the coast. On the 27th, the paper observed that “the popularity of Santa Monica, as a place of fashionable resort and sea-bathing, is on the increase” as, the prior day, a party “provided with tents and camp equipage” enough for a two-week excursion “were added to the population already enjoying themselves at that favorite resort.”
In summer 1871, Will Tell, whose business in the Temple Block included house and sign painting, hanging wallpaper, and work in graining, glazing and varnishing, opened a resort south of Santa Monica where Ballona Creek empties into the Pacific. Meanwhile, there was a new operation called “Camp Hayward,” though there is little information about the resort, which seems to have lasted just a year or two.
An interesting ad from the News of 29 July was issued by the “Los Angeles Grass Widows’ Club” which announced weekly Sunday morning gatherings at the Camp “until the bathing season is over.” Another notable tidbit was a piece of correspondence from “K”, who was, it seems, the proprietor of the Camp, to the Star of 5 August with respect to some prior criticism of the bathing suits worn by some visitors and which included this rejoinder:
They are appropriate and many of them very pretty, being formed after patterns in vogue at other watering places; and we have none here who seem inclined to mar the general pleasure by any improprieties of dress or manner. Our encampment is becoming quite popular, and all seem satisfied that here, within two hours drive of Los Angeles, we have a combination of natural facilities rarely equaled, making this one of the most delightful of sea-side resorts.
An 1872 reference added that Camp Hayward was “affording the best of sea-bathing, plenty of wood and soft water, and a fine shade,” suggestive of the same location noted above where Rustic Creek empties into the ocean and on the shore where the beach clubs featured in today’s talk were and are located.
The 15 August edition of the Star mentioned another facility, the Harned House, as it discussed a stage trip by John Vance, who began his service in June with four days of trips, with the excursion leaving Los Angeles at 4:30 p.m. “well laden with pleasure seekers, en route for the pleasures of the dance and the surf-bathing at Santa Monica.” Unlike the perambulations of the paper’s representative noted above, this excursion “was an exceedingly pleasant one, the road being in excellent order, and the healthful sea breeze just fresh and cool enough to brace and invigorate, without chilling the system.”
The account went on that “the sun was sinking beneath the western verge of the horizon, when we commenced a descent into a cañon shaded by groups of sycamore.” Then, “beneath these trees, and partially concealed by them, were the white tents, some twenty-five or thirty in number, of the campers at Santa Monica.” Some 150 yards away and nearer the shore was “the neat frame house and the dancing pavilion erected by Mr. Harned for the accommodation of the tentless, who, allured by the pleasant shade, quiet beauty, and delightful surf-bathing, come daily to Santa Monica.”
Welcomed to the frame building, the Star representative enjoyed a fine meal that “will favorably compare with any in the county” and this was followed by a tour of the dance hall, “with its smooth floor, lighted by Chinese lanterns,” and soon filled with dancers tripping the light fantastic until four the next morning as they “kept time with flying feet and graceful movement to the music of the dance.” The paper then recorded that,
Ten o’clock in the morning, and three in the afternoon, are the hours when all Santa Monicans, with bathing costumes provided, enter the surf, and wading, swimming, diving, splashing and riding the breakers, not forgetting an occasional ducking when a breaker breaks on the unwary, pass the most pleasant hours of their seaside life in the enjoyment of the most healthful and delightful recreation on our list of pleasures—i.e. surf-bathing.
Notably, as fresh water supplies were exhausted by the many visitors, more was provided “by numerous wells on the north side of the cañon, from three to five feet in depth” and which, it was supposed, “in every case developed beautiful supplies of pure water.”
Lastly, the Homestead is fortunate to have in its collection a rare photo, previously featured on this blog, by William M. Godfrey (who also photographed the Workman House at the Homestead during this period) of this section of the shore. Titled “Santa Monica (Watering Place,” the view shows the steep bluffs of the hills below which are white tents and fenced enclosures with a few people and a horse at what looks to have been Camp Hayward.
The 10 September 1871 issue of the Star includes the brief mention that “Godfrey, the well known photographic artist and proprietor of the Sun Beam Gallery, has just finished, in handsome style, his ‘Views of Santa Monica’ and ‘Camp Hayward.” Four days later, the News amplified this in more detail, reporting that Godfrey brought images to the office “of the popular watering place at Santa Monica, known as Camp Hayward.” It continued,
Both sides of the approach to the sea are graphically shown, with their improvised improvements, and a view beside of the grand old ocean in the foreground, with its foamy surf and wide expanse of water, lost in the distant horizon of haze. The views are excellent as works of art, and truthful as delineations of natural scenery. Little more could be said in praise of any attempts of the kind. The trees, tents, brush-covered hills, and groups of pleasure-seekers, stand out in bold relief, with peculiar distinctness, and attest at once the power of the art and the skill of the artist.
The Museum’s photo is clearly one of the series and provides an unusual visual record of an emerging seaside resort that, within a few years, became part of the new town of Santa Monica, developed by Robert S. Baker and United States Senator from Nevada, John P. Jones, with the Los Angeles and Independence Railroad, the first president of which was F.P.F. Temple before he moved to the treasurer’s position when Jones took over the chief executive position, completing its only line to the fledgling community from Los Angeles in fall 1875.
Attending today’s lunch, courtesy of the Workmans, whose ancestors bought property in Santa Monica when its first lot sales were held early in 1875 and who have lived in the city for many years, was not just a pleasure in hearing Doyle’s sprightly presentation but an impetus to share some of its early history.