by Paul R. Spitzzeri
The major growth of greater Los Angeles’ third development boom, which took place at the outset of the 20th century meant that government institutions, including fire, police and school services, generally struggled to keep pace. One the fastest growing areas of the Angel City in those first years of the 1900s was to the south where middle and working class subdivisions were built in droves, including an area broadly referred to as Vernon and near the South Park neighborhood as well as north of Florence (now Florence-Graham).
Because there were a great many wooden structures, including residences and commercial buildings, as well as gas, kerosene, oil and other materials that often led to incidents, fire departments were much busier with fires than their descendants today, who more often are tending to medical emergencies. As South Los Angeles expanded during the first decade of the century, there was community pressure for a new station, which led the Los Angeles Fire Department to open Engine Company #21.
The site chosen was 1187 E. 52nd Street, roughly between Central Avenue, the main thoroughfare through the neighborhood, and Hooper Avenue. A permit was issued in early February 1907 for a two-story brick building to cost $12,000 and, according to the LAFD historical archive, the station was opened on 1 September.
The highlighted artifact from the Homestead’s collection for this post is a snapshot from 11 March 1908 [an inscription in error states 1907 and the postmarks are from 23-24 March 1908] of the edifice with a half-dozen firefighters and the station house dog posed on front of the building. The crew included “Driver McDonald, Engineer Heney, Hoseman Woods, Driver Patterson, “Just Me, and Lieutenant Leach,” while the pooch was “Curley” and it was added that “Capt Brydan [Bryden] On Day Off.” The sender, of course, was “Just Me,” but there was no other identification and a brief message to a fellow firefighter in San Diego, likely a former colleague, only provides a first name “Kurt.”
Still, the photo is a great one, providing a full view of the street front, with the sliding doors open and heavily frame side windows and a pediment over them and the entry complemented by similar framing around the second story windows, though the columns have geometric designs, and there are thick brackets above the windows, as well, while thinner and smaller ones are over the entrance.
An overhanging roof and portions of the roof pediments, on which there are closed arches, have red tile, evoking the Mission Revival style of architecture, though the window framing is more Neoclassical. A rail with balusters is between the tiled sections of the roof pediment, a flag pole is on the roof and, in the northeastern corner at the rear is a bell tower. The company name is in thick letters over the entrance and below the second story windows. Notably, to the right, or east side, a trench is next to the building and it looks like construction material sits within it, indicating ongoing work.
The station was only open just under two weeks when the Los Angeles Times of 13 September 1907 reported on budgetary issues at City Hall, which may partly have been part of a financial downturn after the Depression of 1907. Whatever the case, the paper noted that Mayor Arthur C. Harper (who was soon resigned under threat of a recall) offered his $300 monthly salary “as a vicarious sacrifice for the police and fire departments.”
In an interview, with the paper informing readers that Harper was so concerned that his new toupee came loose as he was talking, the chief executive said “they can have it all,” with respect to his pay, “but I’m not willing to see a dollar cut from the pay of the policemen and firemen.” Fire Chief Walter Lips, who joined the department in 1895, became chief a decade later and served five years (he then worked for the sheriff’s department and was convicted of taking a bribe to release a prisoner from the county jail), “spent an uncomfortable half-hour with the Finance Committee” and told the Times that, while he could go into details about what was discussed,
I can only say that the budget appropriation is $2000 a month less for salaries than the amount of the present pay roll. I have suggested that the only possible solution is to cut off two fire companies in the residence districts. It is not possible to reduce the force of the inside companies and still maintain efficiency; each of these companies is working from one to three men short now.
The chief’s decision would be based on those engine companies answering the fewest alarms and “he suggested that the ones to go are Engine Company No. 21 at Fifty-second and Central avenue and Engine Company No. 20 on Sunset boulevard.” In its number of 24 November, the Times published “CITY’S HUGE WASTE IN FIRE DEPARTMENT,” with a subheading stating that “Many Houses in Outside Districts Don’t Pay Their Way,” with seven of these taking $68,000 from the city’s coffers while saving $21,000 in property.
It was added that the department was running in the red by $300,000, while claimed that there were several examples in which an engine company could cover two current districts. To this point, the paper remarked,
Engine Company No. 21 had been installed only about two months and had one fire, a cheap house about six blocks’ run, in daylight; loss total, no salvage; the neighbors claim to have protected the only building endangered with [a] garden hose. No. 21’s district was formerly covered by No. 14 and all the losses in it for the past year were investigated and taken into the average.
The installation of No. 21 was the result of pressure of Vernon boomers on their former Councilman, and no fire company can, on that class of property, make salvage enough in a year to pay one month’s expenses.
Despite the investigations and media pressure, the engine company remained in operation and there were occasional reports in the press of fire calls, as well as injuries suffered, including one in which a firefighter fell through a wooden floor weakened by a blaze. The 5 January 1909 issue of the Los Angeles Herald reported that Lieutenant Oscar H. Lecelles was given a half-pay retirement because he developed tuberculosis, apparently caused or largely so by his coming down with a major cold when fighting a fire at the Van Nuys Hotel downtown when working for another company.
Another incident of note was from the Herald of 27 May 1910, which reported that Captain William H. Bryden, still at the station two years after the photo was taken, informed the Fire Commission that his company was fighting a fire not quite a week before when “a Long Beach car” of the Pacific Electric Railway streetcar system (the route of the track, much widened, still exists as part of the Metro train system) “ran over the hose stretched across the track and cut it in two while it was being used in fighting the fire.” An investigation determined that this could have been prevented and “the commission wants the Pacific Electric to pay for the hose, and the motorman who ran over it punished by law.”
To add to this, the couple residing in the house, which was destroyed because of the severed hose, filed a legal complaint against the PERY for damages caused by its action. Their losses included $570 in clothes, jewelry, silver, gold and cash ($500 in a trunk), but, early in 1911, a jury ruled against them, finding the streetcar company was not at fault and that the line was cut after the house was fully engulfed and destroyed. It is not known if there was any adjudication regarding making good the house or seeking criminal action against the conductor.
Something of a LAFD tradition was that, when a firefighter was newly married and away on a honeymoon, colleagues “decorated” the house with slogans, drawings and other items for the blissful couple to discover on returning home. The 11 August 1910 edition of the Times covered just such an example when Engine Company 21’s Charles F. Carroll, residing across the street from the station, came back with his bride and found that,
Wedded bliss was the subject portrayed by the artists, if they could be called such, and illustrations and legends of divers natures and colors were applied. On the roof of the little bungalow a large stork was painted in such hues as pink feathers and green legs, while from the ultramarine bill of the bird was suspended a suggestive blue parcel . . .
On the front porch of the house, a small washing was hung out, and from the porch roof was suspended numerous old shoes . . .
Near the door was a large sack labelled “rice,” but that was a mistake. It was sawdust. A fireman said they had intended to give them a sack of rice, but finally decided that the young couple would rather have fine woodwork in the house . . .
The house decorations attracted considerable attention. Young people histrionically inclined impersonated the bride and groom returning to their home. A fireman who was good on sobs seated himself on the steps and emitted peculiar noises that might have passed for hog killing day at a packing-house, while one of the young women in the neighborhood patted him on the head and reminded him that the worst was yet to come.
The 23 February 1911 edition of the Los Angeles Express had a notable report about Engine Company 21 firefighter Henry Roche failing to report for duty when a massive blaze broke out and destroyed most of the downtown Irvine-Byrne Building. When summoned before the Fire Commission, Roche stated that he did not have his badge or uniform when he arrived, so was not permitted behind the fire lines and “he said he supposed he had lost his job, and admitted drinking with a friend afterward.” The article concluded that “because of his family,” the board decided to give him a second chance “on condition that he leave liquor alone.”
While the company was able to avert a closure shortly after it opened, it was unable to avoid it in August 1915 with the Los Angeles Record of the 3rd observing that the City Council’s Budget Committee eyed shuttering a dozen, while eleven more were to have staff reductions of four personnel each, this part of trimming $234,000 from the department’s budget. There was, however, some amelioration of the effect by moving to a two-platoon system of rotating firefighters in shifts to avoid 24-hour ones that led to long work weeks.
Three months later, reported the Times of 4 November, Chief Archibald Eley, who served from 1910 to 1919, made the case for reopening three of the closed stations as this would “materially add to the efficiency of the department,” though he preferred to reinstate a half-dozen. The article continued that “in the order of their importance, Chief Eley urged that engine companies No. 21, No. 32 and No. 5 be restored to service, this to apply to the seven months left in the fiscal year.
This did not happen, however, and Ralph J. Scott, Eley’s successor and two fire commissioners appealed to the City Council, whose president was first-term member Boyle Workman, with the Express of 5 August 1919 noting that,
Reopening of many firehouses that closed several years ago on account of lack of funds to maintain them was demanded by the fire commission today in an appeal to the council . . . [because] conditions now are such that these and other firehouses should be placed in commission at once in order to adequately protect life and property over a large area of the city.
The suggestion was to reinstate Engine Company 21, as well as 32 and 33, “as hose companies with [a] complement of 10 firemen each.” This was done and, after four years, the firehouse was reopened. Notably, in June 1923, the Record informed readers, a plan was proposed to add a police substation to the building, though it is not known if the idea was approved.
One of the largest fires of that period in South Los Angeles was covered by the Times of 6 July 1925 as a mattress factory on South Park Avenue (now Avalon Boulevard) just south of Slauson erupted in a conflagration that caused $200,000 in damage to the business and an adjoining residence. Seven companies responded to the blaze, which covered much of a block with the flames visible for several miles even as it occurred in mid-afternoon, and firefighter J.D. Jackson of Engine Company 21 was hospitalized with first and second-degree burns.
Another notable call came in April 1926, as reported by the Express of the 9th:
Chubby faces wreathed in two broad smiles, little 5-year-old Katherine Redman and her playmate, 6-year-old Jerry Rogers, saved from death by asphyxiation through prompt action of the rescue squad, were informally inducted into service today as honorary mascots of Engine Company No. 21, Los Angeles fire department.
The youngsters lived adjacent to the fire house and were returning with their families from Redondo Beach when exhaust fumes from the car afflicted them while they were sleeping. The panicked adults carried the unconscious children to the station and it was commented that “by drastic measures firemen . . . kept them alive until the arrival of the rescue squad.” Jerry was revived in 10 minutes, though it took 25 to bring Katherine back.
The children returned to the station two days later, and Jerry, “with Katherine clinging bashfully to his arm,” told the firefighters that he was all in favor of a ballot measure in an election in eleven days that would raise the pay of police officers and fire personnel, saying, “I sure think you ought to get it. Ma says you saved mine and Katherine’s lives when there wasn’t hardly any chance for us.” The article ended that “showing no apparent ill effects from their experience, [Jerry and Katherine] are proudly displaying ‘mascot ribbons’ of Company 21.”
Ill effects, however, came to the station in dramatic fashion when the Long Beach earthquake of 10 March 1933 struck and caused such damage that “as a safety measure to prevent injury to children,” the Fire Commission ordered the quarter-century old brick edifice to be razed. While the company continued to operate, a new Art Deco style station was not built for eight years at the site.
After more than 65 years, a new, larger station with additional training components was built directly to the north at 1192 E. 51st Street and it is now Fire Station 2, though the 1941 edifice still stands. For most of the last 120 years, the Los Angeles Fire Department has maintained a station in this section of the city and, despite some early issues and struggles, it continues to provide essential services to residents of the area.
Paul makes an interesting point that modern fire departments now spend much of their time responding to medical emergencies – some estimates suggest 70–80% of their calls fall into this category. Their quick response is certainly appreciated, made possible by the wide distribution of fire stations.
Still, when a flashy full-sized fire engine, an ambulance, and an EMT vehicle all arrive at the same location, with seven or eight responders surrounding a single patient and several stethoscopes appearing at once for what turns out to be a relatively minor situation, one cannot help wondering whether smaller response units and vehicles will be more efficient and cost-effective.
It’s also interesting to note that other than the U.S. and Canada, most other countries organize emergency medical services in different ways.