Showing posts with label San Francisco. Show all posts
Showing posts with label San Francisco. Show all posts

2/22/13

ACME BEER in 1944


I won't bother to do any writing about this beer company since everything you could want to know is available here and here.

I can say that I've been to the brewery in Fort Bragg, California, North Coast Brewing Company, which currently owns the rights to the Acme name. Unfortunately I don't drink beer so I can't make any comments about the product.

This ad is the back cover of the 1944 The Playgoer from Montez Lawton's scrapbook.


Click on image to see it larger.

2/21/13

San Francisco Nighclubs 1944: CHINATOWN


Chinatown, in San Francisco, California, is the oldest Chinatown in North America and the largest Chinese community outside Asia. Since its establishment in 1848,it has been highly important and influential in the history and culture of ethnic Chinese immigrants in North America. Chinatown is an enclave that continues to retain its own customs, languages, places of worship, social clubs, and identity. There are two hospitals, numerous parks and squares, a post office, and other infrastructure. Visitors can easily become immersed in a microcosmic Asian world, filled with herbal shops, temples, pagoda roofs and dragon parades. In addition to being a starting point and home for thousands of Chinese immigrants, it is also a major tourist attraction, drawing more visitors annually than the Golden Gate Bridge. (SOURCE: Wikipedia)
In the 1940s nightclubs in Chinatown became very popular with the soldiers passing through town on their way to the Pacific. These ads are all from the Curran Theatre’s The Playgoer magazine that is from Montez Lawton’s scrapbook (click on her name in the labels to see more).



Things get a little confusing when researching these places. In one piece it's stated that Club Shanghai was owned by Fong Wan, a famous Chinese herbalist. He called his shows:
'the Chinese ‘Folies-Bergere’ of the Americas.' He boasted, 'Our entertainment costs more than $2,000 per week' and offered what had become a nearly standardized Chinese-American menu. Still, patrons could order 'other native dishes upon request.' (SOURCE: Flavor and Fortune)
Obviously the problem is that the ad above says it was owned by D.W. Low. I'm throughly baffled, but I'll give you what I found.

To read about the different clubs, the entertainers, and the food visit here and here.


Click on image to see it larger.

There's a variety of ephemera online from some of these places:
here to see the cover of a menu for Shanghai Low,
here to see a postcard of the interior of Club Shaghai,
here to see a postcard of Shanghai Low,
here to see a photo holder for Club Shanghai,
here to see a photo of D.W. Low, owner of Shanghai Low, in traditional Chinese clothing
here for another menu cover of Shanghai Low,
here to see a bit of the exterior of Shanghai Low on Grant Avenue,
and here to see a photo of the interior of Shanghai Low.
Click here to read about Ed Pond, owner of Dragon's Lair.

Click here to see a menu from Club Shanghai featuring a photo of showgirl Miss Lana Wong and the owner, Fong Wan.

I did not find any ephemera for Lion's Den or Dragon's Lair.


Click on image to see it larger.

Sadly, I'm not finding anything definitive about these old clubs. It's just bits 'n' pieces from the past like these old advertisements; places and performers long gone. It would be nice if there was a book about this period in Chinatown featuring the stories and ephemera. Perhaps there is and I just haven't found it.

—————
UPDATE: From reader Willard:
Club Shanghai opened around 1913 by D.W. Low. My father, Fong Wan, who had an interest in this nightclub, took sole ownership of it in 1946 until around 1956.

It was my father who brought Lana Wong from China to perform at his Club Oakland, formerly the New Shanghai Terrace Bowl in Oakland CA before her performing at the Club Shanghai. Barbara Yung, was the featured dancer after Ms. Wong left my father's employ.
Thank you Williard!



2/20/13

San Francisco Nightclub 1944: SLAPSY MAXIE'S and GEORGIE PRICE


There were two Slapsy Maxie nightclubs that were popular back in the ‘40s and 50s. One was located in Los Angeles, the other in San Francisco. This ad is for the San Francisco location and is in the 1944 The Playgoer magazine that Montez Lawton kept in her scrapbook.


Click on image to see it larger.

I’ll give you a little information about the clubs and this fellow with the top billing, Georgie Price.

The clubs were named after American boxer/actor Max Everitt Rosenbloom who was known as "Slapsie Maxie." He was born on November 1, 1907 in Leonard’s Bridge, Connecticut. He died from Paget’s disease of bone on March 6, 1976 in South Pasadena, California. He got the name Slapsie Maxie from a journalist who was making reference to his open gloved boxing style.
Few fighters stepped into the ring more often than Maxie Rosenbloom, who fought 299 times in sixteen years. Raised on the Lower East Side of New York, Rosenbloom left school after third grade and later served time in reform school. Reportedly, actor George Raft spotted the young Rosenbloom in a street brawl and advised him to become a boxer.Rosenbloom had an unusual style. He was a weak puncher and often slapped at his opponents with an open hand—earning him the nickname "Slapsie"—but he was a consummate defensive fighter and did whatever was necessary to avoid getting hit. He won the vast majority of his fights, although he only recorded nineteen knockouts in his entire professional career. (SOURCE: Harry Greb
In 1930, he won the New York light heavyweight title. In 1932, he won the Light Heavyweight Championship of the World. He held and defended the title until November 1934, when he lost it to Bob Olin.As a professional boxer, Rosenbloom relied on hitting and moving to score points. He was very difficult to hit cleanly with a power punch and his fights often went the full number of required rounds. In his boxing matches he suffered thousands of head punches, which eventually led to the deterioration of his motor functions. (SOURCE: Wikipedia
The story goes that the club was owned by mobster Mickey Cohen, but according to this December 1, 2011 article in the L. A. Times by Patrick Goldstein, that’s not the story.
According to most historical accounts, Maxie Rosenbloom, a former prizefighter, was simply the front man for Cohen, who actually owned the joint. In the film (The Gangster Squad), Cohen has a special table at the club, which has his bookmaking operations housed upstairs. But the nightclub's ownership history turns out to be more complicated than I realized.
After my story ran, I got an email from Marti Devore, setting me straight. Even though the club was originally in Cohen's hands, from 1947 through 1950 it was owned by Sy Devore and his older brother, Al. Marti, who is Al's daughter and Sy's niece, is the Devore family's unofficial historian, which, as it turns out, makes her something of an expert on Hollywood history too.

Her uncle Sy, who ran a men's store originally located on Vine near Sunset, was known for years as Hollywood's "tailor to the stars." Born in Brooklyn, Sy Devore was a natural-born hipster, operating a store in New York, at Broadway and 42nd Street, before he moved west.

Sy spent a lot of time in Harlem, running with the likes of Count Basie, Ella Fitzgerald and the Dorsey brothers, who bought their threads at his store and were the ones who told him that he'd be a natural fit in Hollywood. So he moved west, doing custom tailoring and throwing parties. His regular showbiz customers included Frank Sinatra and most of the Rat Pack as well as Bob Hope and Nat King Cole. Being flush with cash, they made Sy a lot of money. Marti says that Jerry Lewis used to boast that after hitting the bigtime, he bought 100 suits from Sy in 1949 alone.

Being so good at hanging out, it was inevitable that Sy would try his hand at running a nightclub. He knew Slapsy Maxie well—according to Marti, the ex-boxer turned bit actor showed up nearly every day at a barber shop that was located inside Sy's Vine Street store. So Sy and Al bought themselves a nightclub. (SOURCE: LA Times)
Click here to see a photo of the outside of the Los Angeles club.

I’m finding very little about the San Francisco club other than this from Billboard magazines August, 8, 1942 edition:


Here is an interior photo from 1942 of the San Francisco club.


You can see matchbook covers from the San Francisco and Los Angeles clubs here, here, and here.

And here and here are the outside of a photo holder.

Here is a video of Jerry Lewis recalling his appearance with Dean Martin at the Copa in New York and in Los Angeles at Slapsy Maxie’s.



Now, Georgie Price, headliner at the San Francisco Slapsy Maxie’s.

Georgie was born on January 5, 1901 in New York City. He died from a heart attack on May 10, 1964 in New York City.
When Georgie was born, his mother missed work as janitor of the building, and the landlord evicted the entire family of 11, carrying Mrs. Price and Georgie into the street in her bed. A famous lady social worker saved them, letting the family return home.

Georgie started singing and dancing on the streets and subways of New York at a very early age, and in 1907, accompanied an older brother on his dry-cleaning delivery rounds. He sang for the wife of Gus Edwards, a Vaudeville entrepreneur, and was adopted by the Edwards, thereafter taking Edwards as a middle name. He and "Lila Lee" starred as "Little Georgie and Cuddles" in Gus Edwards song review, "School Days". Surrounded and adored by old-timers of Vaudeville, he mastered many arts, including tap dancing, soft shoe, gag-writing, double-talk, and especially imitation, at which he was regarded as one of the best, not only for his accents and voices, but also for his ability to imitate dancers, singers (including Enrico Caruso, who offered to adopt him), and entertainers of the past—as taught to him by those who remembered them best.

He fell on hard times during his adolescence, when though short, he could no longer play children. Bribing an elevator operator at the Shuberts' office building, he donned the operator's uniform, and imprisoned one (or more) of the Shuberts between floors, just long enough to audition. He became their "headliner", replacing Al Jolson, and later became the first non-classical singer to get a long-term recording contract with RCA Victor.

In the Thirties, he took the advice of his friend Bernard Baruch to buy a seat on the New York Stock Exchange, beginning a second career, but continued on in show business, notably as president of The American Guild of Variety Artists, as a frequent emcee of charitable fund-raisers, as the host of "The Big Time", a CBS radio show in the early Fifties, and as a spokesman for Vaudeville and retired Vaudevilleans. (SOURCE: IMDb, Marshall Price)
Click here to read more about Georgie Price.

Here is an old Vitaphone video featuring Georgie.



Again, an old piece of paper has lead me on an interesting journey.

2/18/13

San Francisco nightlife 1944: FINOCCHIO'S


On March 26, 1944 Montez Lawton went to see the musical Blossom Time at the Curran Theatre in San Francisco with a man named Stewart. This is the exact same sentence that began my last post, but now I'm going to deal with some ads that were in the Curran Theatre magazine that Montez saved.

If you go to the theatre and buy a program or get a Playbill there are always lots of ads telling you of places you could go following the show. I'm going to deal with some rather exotic places the Curran advertised back in '44.


Click on image to see it larger. (SOURCE: The Playgoer)

You really couldn't grow up in the San Francisco Bay Area and not know about Finocchio's until it closed in 1999. I never got to go to there show, but it was supposed to be classy, but brassy. I wish I'd seen it.

Joe Finocchio opened his famed San Francisco nightspot after a customer, drinking in his father's speakeasy, performed an imitation of the legendary Sophie Tucker. This gave Joe the idea of a nightclub with men performing with all the glitter, sophistication and glamour of sophisticated women.
He opened a speakeasy in 1929 at 406 Stockton St, which he managed with his wife Marjorie. Initially the show was a female impersonator paired with a exotic dancer – hula or Chinese.
In 1933 with the repeal of Prohibition, it became legal, and Joe hired more dancers and expended the floor show. In 1936 the police raided the club and arrested five female impersonators, including Walter Hart and Carroll Davis, and the owners for employing entertainers on a percentage basis. Police Chief Quinn ‘declared war’ on female impersonators, and also revoked the permit of the 201 Club.
After the raid, Finocchio’s moved to a larger location at 506 Broadway, and hired more impersonators. Marjorie planned the entertainment on a grand scale. She booked the finest entertainers, supervised and planned elaborate productions. The club was allowed to exist because it became a tourist attraction, a symbol of the city’s sophistication. Joe had to promise the police that the entertainers would not mingle with the customers. Tourist magazines billed Finocchio’s as ‘America’s most unusual night club’. This was reinforced during the 1939 World’s Fair in San Francisco.
The club always included ethnic impersonators. Li-Kar did a Geisha dance; Billy Herrero recreated Hedy Lamarr in the film Algiers, 1938;  in 1940 the club developed an Argentine feature; later Juan Jose did a flamenco dance; Reene de Carlo a hula dance; Bobby de Castro did a striptease in a gorilla costume (this was supposed to be Cuban).
There was little trouble at the club over the years, though military authorities declared Finocchio's "off limits" for selling liquor to WWII military personnel outside of authorized hours. That temporary sanction was lifted New Year's Eve 1943 after Joe Finocchio and other bar owners signed an agreement to limit liquor sales to military personnel to between 5 p.m and midnight. Beer could, however, be sold between 10 a.m. and midnight. The future Tony Midnight, who was working in munitions during the war, snuck into Finocchio’s using fake ID.
Joe Finocchio died in 1986, aged 88. Eve Finocchio, his widow, decided to close the club in late 1999 because of a major rent increase and dwindling attendance. The club closed November 27, 1999. Eve died 2007. (SOURCE, including club photo: Zagria)
Visit the above source link to read more. To see vintage photos, programs, matchbooks, etc. click here.

As to Johnny Mangum the performer, I've found nothing.

2/16/13

Montez H. Lawton SILHOUETTE


On March 26, 1944 Montez Lawton went to see the musical Blossom Time at the Curran Theatre in San Francisco with a man named Stewart. The program from the presentation is glued into her scrapbook. Inside the program I found this in a small envelope. I can only guess that at some point that evening they found an artist, perhaps at the theatre or a restaurant, that did silhouettes.

1/7/13

Time to RUN AWAY FROM HOME: Part 3


Choice number 3 in our Run Away Adventure!

So far we've tried plane and ship. If those didn't strike your fancy, how about the train; specifically the Sunset Limited on the old Southern Pacific Line?

I rode the line several times, but it was always at night so I saw very little. Only once did I have a private room which was quite nice, though amazingly small. It was sufficient for me with a convertible couch, toilet, and sink. I was sick at the time, so I really didn't get to take advantage of much of anything.

Now, sadly, there was no real dining car when I rode the train. It was a snack car with a microwave. I sat up for hours one night eating microwave popcorn and talking to a friend while others sat at a nearby table playing cards. Elegant dining with great service it was not. But then, we're going back in time so the heck with how it is today.

What I really love about this ad are the illustrations; wonderful 1950s modern.

Click on any image to see it larger.



Sadly, as in yesterday's vintage ad, people of color were always relegated to service positions, never as patrons. Jarring to the eye now, it's actually good these ads exist to remind people of our history. Though the railroads offered good jobs for African-Americans, it's heartbreaking to think that they were relegated to only certain positions. People today need to remember how far we've come and how, without vigilance, we could slip back to the old days.

And now, how about taking the train even farther back in time. I give you 1937.


10/10/12

BRIDGES: Connecting San Francisco to Marin and the East Bay


My final bridge post is of the Golden Gate Bridge connecting San Francisco to Marin County, and the Bay Bridge connecting San Francisco to the East Bay/Oakland.




Click on either image to see them larger.

The small flat island, which is manmade, is Treasure Island. Originally built as the site for the 1939 Golden Gate International Exposition, it was then to be turned into the terminal for Pan Am. By 1941 TI, as it was known by anyone who worked there, had been turned into a Navy base. In fact, it was from this base that my dad eventually retired from the Navy in a building that still stood from the Exposition. Just across the Bay Bridge in San Francisco at the Ferry Tower is where he had originally joined the Navy. The Bay Area is home no matter how far I may travel from it. 

My dad has memories of going to the Exposition and somewhere I have some old Viewmaster slides of it. I’ll have to dig them out and scan them for a future post. You can read about the Exposition here, here, and here.



10/8/12

BRIDGES: The Golden Gate Under Construction


Of all the bridges in the world the Golden Gate is the most special and beautiful to me. It's constantly changing and fascinating from all angles. I'll admit, when I'm crossing it I'm silently saying to myself, "Oh please don't let the big one hit now." I do not want my last moments on earth to be spent inside a car falling to the cold water below. Still, the view would be nice which is unfortunately what draws so many suicide victims.

The bridge is constantly being painted, a never ending job. Not a job I could fathom doing thanks to my fear of heights. Even more disconcerting would be to have been one of the men who built the bridge. Click here to see a vintage snapshot of a man named Geo. McLeod working on the bridge in 1936.
Construction began on January 5, 1933. The project cost more than $35 million. The Golden Gate Bridge construction project was carried out by the McClintic-Marshall Construction Co., a subsidiary of Bethlehem Steel Corporation founded by Howard H. McClintic and Charles D. Marshall, both of Lehigh University.
Strauss remained head of the project, overseeing day-to-day construction and making some groundbreaking contributions. A graduate of the University of Cincinnati, he placed a brick from his alma mater's demolished McMicken Hall in the south anchorage before the concrete was poured. He innovated the use of movable safety netting beneath the construction site, which saved the lives of many otherwise-unprotected steelworkers. Of eleven men killed from falls during construction, ten were killed (when the bridge was near completion) when the net failed under the stress of a scaffold that had fallen. Nineteen others who were saved by the net over the course of construction became proud members of the (informal) Half Way to Hell Club.
The project was finished by April 1937, $1.3 million under budget.
With the death of Jack Balestreri in April 2012, all workers involved in the original construction are now deceased. (SOURCE: Wikipedia)

Click on image to see it larger.


Click on image to see it larger.



I have crossed beneath the bridge several times aboard ships; twice heading to Hawaii and twice returning. Even in the fog it's mysterious and beautiful. Imagine actually building it.

8/30/12

August 29, 1966


As I sat down to watch the 49ers preseason game tonight I suddenly flashed on where I was 46 years and 1 day ago. It was seeing the fog and cold at Candlestick Park that brought it back. It's one of those days that you remember, even if the memory is broken like shards of glass. Images, moments flash back as if I'm watching clips from some movie.

I was sitting in Candlestick Park wearing black shoes, black tights, a red and black jumper with a black turtleneck. Oh, and I had a pair of binoculars around my neck. I was with my friend who had told me I'd better not scream. No screaming was allowed. I promised I wouldn't, and I didn't. This is not to say that all around me there weren't screamers and fainters and hypervenitlators. But I stood on my seat stoic...well, almost stoic. I giggled a lot and sighed and didn't want the 20 or so minutes to end. And the girl in the seat in front of me kept grabbing my binoculars to see the band better, and George's white socks, and she never bothered to ask if it was okay. My head was still attached so I'm lucky I didn't end up with whiplash that night.

And then it was over. The Brinks truck pulled up to the stage, the band got into the truck, and it left. It was gone, off the field in an instance. My folks, waiting for us in their car in the parking lot, saw the Brinks truck zoom by. They had no idea why there was a Brinks truck. When my friend and I were safely back in the car on our way home we told my folks about the truck. My mother said, "It drove right by us." Okay, then my friend and I started to squeal.

Yup, 46 years and 1 day ago it was cold and foggy at Candlestick Park.








8/28/11

LET'S EAT OUT: Part 2...Vanessi's


Another city and another restaurant that no longer exists. Vanessi’s was a familiar name when I was growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area, though I never ate there.









It was part of mid-century San Francisco and a staple of North Beach. For me, North Beach has always been the most interesting part of the city. Most of the hip places from the '50s and '60s are long gone. I haven’t been there in years.

To see a photo of the outside of the original Vanessi’s click here.
In 1936, Silvio Zorzi opened the happening Italian restaurant Vanessi's on Broadway. Counter-side seating around the open kitchen was one of Vanessi's trademarks, as were specialty dishes such as the Chicken Cacciatore and Spaghetti Cabonara. Though Vanessi's was a major hotspot on Broadway for years, in the 1980s new owners moved the restaurant to California Street in Nob Hill. Sadly, slow business in that location led to the restaurant’s abrupt closure in 1997. (SOURCE: San Francisco Restaurants.com)
I also found this interesting piece about Paul Robeson trying to eat at Vanessi’s in 1940. Hard to believe in a town known for its openness and inclusiveness a man would be turned away because of his color.
Wherever he spoke, whenever he was quoted, his theme was about segregation, discrimination, the theme of being put in the position of second-class citizen. After all, here is a man who was twice named All-American in football. An all-around athlete and student at Rutgers University. Then a degree from Columbia Law School. Then famed as actor and singer. He could play the leading role in Othello—and yet he still was a man even up until the 1950s who couldn't go into a restaurant or into the same hotel with other members of the same company.

This became a public issue in 1940. After a concert, he and a group went to Vanessi's, one of the better restaurants in North Beach, in the Italian area of San Francisco. It was a mix of several whites and Negroes including John Pittman, a black newspaperman. I knew Pittman at Berkeley, at the university. He had very light skin and was allowed to walk right into Vanessi's and then the man at the door—the head waiter—said, "That guy in back of you can't come in." He pointed up to Robeson who was probably three heads taller. The group walked out and sued Vanessi's. It became a front-page scandal. Consider the public recognition of Robeson on the one hand, and the insulting behavior on the other hand—all because
of his color! The group sued Vanessi's but nothing came of it. I've been listening to Robeson's speeches in the last few recordings I'd made where he'd spoken. More and more he emphasized a link among people whom the white race considers inferior or second-class or third world. A common bond shared by people who have been put upon by their society or other societies. People of different color or religion. Third-world people. Shearer: Did he actually use the term "third world"? (SOURCE: calisphere)
Surprisingly for a restaurant with so much history I'm not finding much worth looking at other than this photo of customers in 1952.

What's there today? A slick chrome and black marble bar.


You can judge which place will be historically memorable.

And is it me or does this building look like a smiling face that could tell a few tales about what goes on inside?

4/25/10

SAN FRANCISCO open the other gate


A beautiful day with perfect weather. How nice it would be to be out on the Bay. Alas, I have spent the day working. Bread before wine, or in my case, tortilla before apple juice. Don't ask.

San Francisco_Bay Bridge_tatteredandlost
Click on image to see it larger.

I'm not sure if this vintage post card dates from the 1930 or 40s. I do, however, remember the last ferry going across the Bay.

3/22/10

HOTEL EMPIRE, San Francisco


You'll never guess the history of this place.

Hotel Empire_San Francisco_tatteredandlost
Click on image to see it larger.

It seems funny that a hotel would put out a postcard and then not provide any location information. There is nothing on the back other than "POST CARD" and "PLACE STAMP HERE". I guess they thought the mere mention of its name would be enough.
"Excuse me cabbie, take me to the Empire."
"Sure thing bud."
Well, what if the same guy got in the cab and said:
"Hey cabbie, take me to that church/hotel."
The cabbie, in 1930, would have driven here. Yes, folks it's a church...it's a hotel...it's a church...it's a hotel...it's two...two...two things in one.
Religion: San Francisco Skyscraper-Church
Monday, Mar. 17, 1930

When city land becomes too expensive to build churches upon, a solution is to combine churches and skyscrapers. The Chicago Temple (First Methodist Episcopal Church plus offices, stores) and Manhattan's Broadway Temple (Methodist Episcopal Church plus apartment houses, hotel, stores) are examples. San Franciscans now have a brand new 30-story pyramidal skyscraper-church-hotel to admire —the William Taylor Hotel and Temple Methodist Episcopal Church, on the busy corner of McAllister and Leavenworth Streets.

A greystone tower with a suggestion of Gothic ornament, it is named for Forty-Niner William ("California") Taylor who chose the longest way to the gold fields— around the Horn. In 1849 that route was safely traversed by 108 vessels. Most of the passengers sought gold. Few of them became either rich or famous, many returned East. William Taylor took a cargo of cut timber with him to build a church. An overpowering man with a stentorian voice, he wore a big, warm beard instead of a shirt. He had been Methodist Bishop of Africa. When he arrived in San Francisco he put his Bible on an overturned whiskey barrel in the middle of Portsmouth Square, bellowed and sang until the saloons emptied to hear him. For diversion he swam regularly across San Francisco Bay, a procedure still regarded as something of an athletic feat. He founded the College of the Pacific (Methodist Episcopal college in Stockton, enrollment about 970), wrote more than 20 books, thundered his old-time religion at Gold Coast sots and socialites.

The building which bears his name cost $2,800,000, contains 500 guest rooms and 32 tower apartments, a famed French chef, a glossy array of electric stoves, refrigerators, semi-modernistic furniture. It is floodlighted at night, has a tapestried lobby. Its seven elevators can reach the roof in 30 seconds.

The church proper, in the Gothic style, will seat 1,500, with a chapel seating 125 more. Two assembly halls may be combined to hold an audience of 1,100 for athletics or theatricals. Four Methodist churches combined to form the new congregation. The pastor is Dr. Walter John Sherman, who devoted ten years to the scheme. Laymen prominently involved: Fred D. Parr, president of Parr Terminal Co.; John H. McCallum, lumberman, president of the San Francisco Y.M.C.A. (SOURCE: TIME)
The depression was not kind to the William Taylor Hotel:
Full of zeal and optimism, in San Francisco ten years ago Methodists of four of the city's biggest churches—Central, California Street, Wesley, Howard Street—sold their properties, pooled $800,000 to form a superchurch which they called Temple Methodist. Their optimism the Methodists expressed by building a 27-story hotel, highest on the Pacific Coast, at Leavenworth & McAllister streets in downtown San Francisco. The William Taylor Hotel, with a cathedral-like, 1,300-seat church concealed in its second, third and fourth floors, would support Temple Church, everyone felt, retire its $1,550,000 in first mortgage bonds at maturity. But more funds were needed and before the hotel was completed in 1930 the Methodists floated a $150,000 second mortgage issue, borrowed $100,000 privately, obtained $534,000 more through mortgages sold to the Methodist home missions board.

Installed in its fine quarters. Temple Church prospered spiritually, but William Taylor Hotel moved into the red, remained there. For a time the Methodists paid interest charges totaling, $135.000 from their own pockets, then let a $500,000 debt accumulate. A bondholders' protective committee foreclosed, bought in the property last November for $750,000. The Methodists, their investment lost for good, were invited to move out of the hotel, their quarters to be used for more lucrative operations, including a garage. Temple Church was as homeless and penniless as any evicted tenement family, but it had kind neighbors. Temple Emanu-El, San Francisco's largest synagog, offered the use of its building on Sundays. A small Methodist church offered the Templers a place to worship in between regular services. And San Francisco's most vigorous Congregational church made what Temple's pastor called an offer of "marriage." Temple accepted. Last Sunday for the first time Methodists mingled with Congregationalists in First Church (2,500 seats), downtown near the swank St. Francis Hotel. (SOURCE: TIME)
And:
In a 1937 auction, new owners acquired the William Taylor for $750,000, changed its name to the Empire and promoted its penthouse as the Empire Sky Room.

Eventually, the Empire also failed. By 1942, it was sold to the federal government and became an office of the Internal Revenue Service.

Since 1978, the once prestigious William Taylor Hotel has been a dormitory for Hastings College of the Law students. (SOURCE: SF Gate)
To see a postcard showing an illustration of the Sky Room click here. Can't guarantee that this link will last for long because it's a card for sale at CardCow.com.

If you are wondering who William Taylor was, wellllllll...
William Taylor (1821-1902) was an American Missionary Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church, elected in 1884. Taylor University, a Christian college in Indiana, carries his name.

Taylor was born 2 May 1821 in Rockbridge County—home to Sam Houston (b.1796), Robert E. Lee (b.1807), and Stonewall Jackson (b.1824)—in the Commonwealth of Virginia. He was the oldest of eleven children born to Stuart Taylor and Martha Hickman. In his autobiography, Story of My Life (1896), Taylor describes his grandfather, James, as one of five brothers who were “Scotch-Irish of the Old Covenantor type…who emigrated from County Armagh, Ireland, to the colony of Virginia, about one hundred and thirty years ago” (i.e. 1766). The Hickman family was of English ancestry and settled in Delaware in the late 1750s. Both families “fought for American freedom in the Revolution of 1776” and afterward emancipated their slaves. Taylor’s father, Stuart, was a “tanner and currier—a mechanical genius of his times”; his mother was “mistress of the manufacture of all kinds of cloth.” Both parents, he says, were of “powerful constitution of body and mind…their English school education quite equal to the average of their day.”

Conversion to Christ
Before William was ten years old, his grandmother had taught him the Lord's Prayer and explained that he could become a son of God. He longed for this relationship, but was unsure how to obtain it. Overhearing the story of a poor Black man who had received salvation, he wondered why he could not, also. He recounts in his autobiography,

"soon after, as I sat one night by the kitchen fire, the Spirit of the Lord came on me and I found myself suddenly weeping aloud and confessing my sins to God in detail, as I could recall them, and begged Him for Jesus' sake to forgive them, with all I could not remember; and I found myself trusting in Jesus that it would all be so, and in a few minutes my heart was filled with peace and love, not the shadow of a doubt remaining."

He entered the Baltimore Annual Conference in 1843. Bishop Taylor traveled to San Francisco, California in 1849, and organized the first Methodist church in San Francisco. Between 1856 and 1883 he traveled in many parts of the world as an evangelist. He was elected Missionary Bishop of Africa in 1884, and retired in 1896.

Books he wrote include:
Seven Years' Street Preaching in San Francisco (1857)
Christian Adventures in South Africa (1867)
Four Years' Campaign in India (1875)
Our South American Cousins (1878)
Self-Supporting Missions in India (1882)
The Story of My Life (1895)
Flaming Torch in Darkest Africa (1898)
(SOURCE: Wikipedia)
Taylor died in 1902 in Palo Alto, California and is buried in Mountain View Cemetery in Oakland, California. (SOURCE: Taylor Univeristy)

Now, seriously, what do you think this fellow would have thought about having a hotel such as this with his name above the door? With a penthouse! I don't know how many members they had, but this is surely a sort of odd version of a mega-church. A glowing mega-church that looks like Batman should be standing on top of it.

Oh, and by the way, apparently the address is 100 McAllister Street in case you're ever in San Francisco and want to experience it's wonderfulness without the psychedelic sky. To see a current photograph and read a brief blog post about the building click here.

And to think I started to bed a couple hours ago thinking I'd post this card with "Hey, does anyone know anything about this place?" as my message. Why, oh why couldn't I have just scanned a Travel Lodge in Kansas. I'd have been in bed for hours!

3/21/10

What became of the HOTEL STEWART ON GEARY STREET?


A postcard of an old hotel in San Francisco called the Stewart Hotel at 353 Geary Street, San Francisco. Usually when you go in search of old buildings they're gone. A developer had a better idea than those that came before. Apparently this time the building has been saved. I'm guessing from the cars in the street that this is either late 1930s to 1940s.

If you look closely you can see a Union Pacific sign hanging on the front. And I get a kick out of the dress shops on the right.

Hotel Stewart_Geary Street_SF_tatteredandlost

Hotel Stewart_Geary Street_SF_bk_tatteredandlost
Click on images to see them larger.


I can't find any history of the Stewart Hotel, but what stands in its place now is the same building, I believe, renovated, and now called the Handlery Union Square Hotel. The photo to the left is from Google showing the building in 2009.

To see a few photos of the interior of the old hotel go to Alamedainfo.com and scroll down to midway on the page.

Note that this is a Curt Teich card.

UPDATE: I received the following from a reader. Click on the link to see a vintage menu from the hotel.
Here is a breakfast menu from Hotel Stewart that is part of a menu collection recently donated to Johnson & Wales University Library, Providence, RI. Based on the scope of the collection, I would guess this is probably from the 1940s. 
Menu link  for Johnson & Wales University Library
________________________

New book available on Amazon.
Tattered and Lost: Forgotten Dolls

This one is for those who love dolls!

Snapshots from the last 100+ years of children and adults with dolls. Okay, there are a couple of dogs too.

Perfect stocking stuffer!









2/7/10

George Washington HIGH SCHOOL 1947


I'm not a Super Bowl kind of person...unless my team is playing. Otherwise I ignore the whole spectacle. Too much money spent on nothing. Too many egos out of proportion with reality. It's all just too big with no actual value to the average person. And I have to wonder how many CEOs from health insurance companies will be spending money on private boxes today. Oh, and let's not forget the lobbyists that will be there plying their trade like professional call girls. Oh, and they will of course be there too.

When I was in high school I did go to the Friday night games, though I could have cared less who won. I went to run around with friends. Get in the car and drive around in the dark. Listen to Wolfman Jack on the way home from a game. The actual game? Don't remember any of them. But I had my student body card with the holes punched proving I'd been to games.

This card was in an envelope of photos bought at a flea market. I didn't particularly care either way if I bought it. It was one of those deals where the seller says, "Take everything in the envelope, or don't take any of it."

George Washington High School 1947_tatteredandlost

George Washington High School is located in San Francisco. It opened August 4, 1936. A stadium, auditorium, and gymnasium were added in 1940. The school was formally dedicated on Armistice Day 1940. A few well known graduates include Maya Angelou, Danny Glover, Johnny Mathis, and Lana Turner. This card did not belong to any of them. It belonged to an ordinary person whose stuff somehow ended up at a flea market. Isn't that the way it will eventually be for most of us?

So happy football extravaganza to those who will be watching the spectacle and happy "do something else day" to those of us who won't. And to those at the game? Keep your program and ticket stubs. Just put them away in a drawer when you get home. Someday you can sell them at a flea market. Super Bowl ephemera.

2/18/09

But it looks like HAND TINTING


I just posted a hand tinted photograph at my vernacular photography blog which got me to thinking about old post cards that look hand tinted. Of course the cards weren't hand tinted. Printing processes for multiple colors was done so differently than today. Young designers coming into the field generally have no idea how labor intensive it was to do 2, 3, and 4 color work. Each color had to be placed on a separate plate which meant somebody had to create the artwork for each plate.

san_francisco_postcard_tatteredandlost

When I was in college we learned how to do overlays. Sometimes we used a product called ruby or amberlith. There was also Zipatone. Each of these required placing an acetate overlay over the black and white original artwork. You then used an x-acto knife to cut out the shapes that you wanted in color. You basically built the colors on the different acetates, but what you were actually looking at was either a ruby red or orange amber. The only colors you saw were the black and white art, the different overlays in the red or orange that each represented a different color to be printed, and then of course white. You had no idea what the final printed piece would look like. There were a lot of surprises when the final arrived. I'm thrilled I don't have to do this anymore. Took a terrible toll on the eyes.

The other method was to do washes on  vellum or acetate which is most likely how these cards were done. It makes it look as if the photos were done by someone with a watercolor brush.

peaches_postcard_tatteredandlost

12/31/08

Oooooo LA LA! Ach du liebe!


The end of another year. Kick out the old, anticipate being paralyzed by the new. I guess all a sane person can do is party...or hide under the covers.

I don't know where this postcard was printed because it has "post card" written on the back multiple times in multiple languages, including Cyrillic. The card was mailed from Petaluma, California to San Francisco. Now about a 45 minute drive. Back then...an all day trip. The handwriting on the front is in German.

What I especially like is the die cut behind the fussy woman in the hat. The whole shape has a nice artist's palette to it with this die cut as the thumb hole. Perhaps the young man's mama, the holder of the purse strings, has discovered her son is a rogue?

Ummmmmm...is it just me or does the fellow look a bit on the effeminate side? I'm just saying. There's possibly more going on here than we first notice.

Happy New Year!