I'm still sad about the French Hospital's recent closure.
Thankfully, I have happier news to share.
Marchesseault Street - renamed, rerouted, paved over, and forgotten long ago by most Angelenos - is, in a way, returning to the map. (Beret-tip to Munson Kwok at the Chinese American Museum for the info.)
Union Station's forecourt and esplanade are slated for a facelift. Don't panic - the project will improve bike and pedestrian access (and add some shade trees). Union Station itself will remain just as beautiful as it looked in 1939.
The improved pedestrian/cyclist plaza will feature contrasting pavers to show where Marchesseault Street once ran (the former path of the zanja madre will also be indicated by pavers in another color).
The new tour bus drop-off zone will be RIGHT ALONGSIDE MARCHESSEAULT STREET.
View details here. I'm thrilled that Marchesseault Street, named for the most important mayor Los Angeles has ever forgotten, is returning to the streetscape. (This is also a win for the Chinese American community - besides the Los Angeles City Water Company, much of LA's original Chinatown was located along Marchesseault Street.)
I am in touch with LA Metro's Elizabeth Carvajal, who is managing this project, and will post an interview with her soon.
Welcome back, Mr. Mayor.
P.S. Don't forget - I'm speaking at StaRGazing 2018, Greater Los Angeles Area Mensa's annual Regional Gathering. I'm scheduled for an afternoon slot on Saturday, February 17. See you in San Pedro! (Book your hotel room NOW. The Doubletree ran out of discounted rooms for Friday a while ago.)
Friday, December 15, 2017
Monday, November 27, 2017
Integrity: Judge Julius Brousseau
A previous entry was about Frenchtown's own Renaissance woman, Dr. Kate Brousseau. Today, we get to meet her father, Julius - an impressive Angeleno in his own right.
Julius Brousseau was born in New York in 1835. His parents were French Canadian immigrants.
Brousseau became an attorney. His career soon took him to Michigan, where he married Caroline Yakeley. Oldest child Kate was born in 1862. The Brousseaus moved to Illinois and had three more children (Mabel in 1871, Edward in 1875, and Ray in 1877) before moving to Los Angeles in 1877.
A few words should be said about Los Angeles in the 1870s: it was still the wild, wild west. The Brousseaus arrived less than seven years after Michel Lachenais was lynched (by his fellow Frenchmen, no less) and about six years after the deadliest race riot in U.S. history - the Chinese Massacre. In the 1860s, greater Los Angeles averaged 20 murders per year (with a population of about 7,000 people) - up to 20 times the murder rate for New York City at the time. Just three years prior to the Brousseaus' arrival, notorious bandit Tiburcio Vasquez was finally caught in modern-day Santa Clarita. Los Angeles had a well-deserved reputation for being tough, lawless, and just plain scary.
Somehow, that didn't deter the Brousseaus.
Julius set up a law office in units 56 and 57 of the ornate Baker Block (which would later be demolished in 1942 to make way for the 101 freeway). If you are driving on the 101 through downtown, the building would have been in the middle of the northbound lanes just north of where the freeway crosses Main Street.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the Brousseaus joined the French Benevolent Society. In 1878, after just a year in LA, the Society selected Julius as a committee member (Constant Meyer, who had to leave town for an extended period of time, was stepping down).
By 1886, Julius had partnered with D.P. Hatch in a law firm. Brousseau & Hatch were based out of units 31, 32, and 56 in the Baker Block (presumably, Julius had kept his old office upstairs). Their names occasionally appeared in the real-estate transaction section of local newspapers - including two plots of land in the San Gabriel Valley's Arcadia tract that year to Prudent Beaudry.
Julius was a patron of the Acacia chapter of the Order of the Eastern Star, a Masonic organization which is open to both men and women. The 1887 city directory also lists him as "Master of Robert Bruce Chapter, no. 6, Rose Croix". Julius was also a Shriner, belonging to the Al Malaikah Temple. Today, the Temple is headquartered at the Shrine Auditorium.
The fabled Brousseau Mansion - one of the first grand homes on Bunker Hill - was built around 1878. Located at 238 South Bunker Hill Avenue (between Second and Third Streets), this was the house where eldest child Kate began her decades-long teaching career. Sadly, the house was torn down in 1966. The Broad now takes up most of the block.
Oddly for a man known for good moral character, Julius appeared on a list of delinquent taxpayers for a lot in the Starr tract and some personal property in 1893. He was on the list again the following year for two lots in the Leonis tract and some land in a subdivision. It isn't clear if the delinquent properties were all his or if the matter was related to his occasional handling of real estate transactions.
After Miguel Leonis died, much of his massive estate went to attorneys' fees. Per an 1896 newspaper article, one of those attorneys just so happened to be Julius Brousseau. One-sixth of Rancho El Escorpion was claimed by the Domec sisters - Espiritu Chijulla Menendez Leonis' sisters - but their claim was disputed by a Robert S. Baker.
Judge Clark also changed the guardianship of a minor heir during litigation proceedings, making Julius the child's guardian ad litem. The Domec sisters - one of whom was the mother of said child - considered this a conflict of interest. They asked Julius to step down and allow Montgomery & Son to represent them.
When Julius declined, he was accused of making disparaging comments about Montgomery, which he denied. As if the Leonis case weren't already convoluted enough, the accusations and the alleged conflict of interest had to be hashed out in court. Rabble-rousing Major Horace Bell, who was Baker's attorney, pointed out that he himself was in a similar position.
Brousseau, at one point, appeared confused about exactly how much of Rancho El Escorpion his clients were claiming. Judge Clark asked for clarification about how much of the rancho the Leonis estate was entitled to. Brousseau responded that if he had made a mistake in his earlier statement, he would amend his answer. He also asked to be relieved of his duty as the minor heir's guardian ad litem.
A few months later, a different newspaper article identified Julius Brousseau not just as an attorney, but as a judge. His father Julius Brousseau Sr., by now 83 and a widower, had been defrauded out of his house and property by Mrs. Lizzie Sage - Julius' sister.
Judge Brousseau testified in the ensuing fraud case. He gave his age as 61, prompting many in the courtroom to comment that he didn't look over 50 (many French people don't age...my own family is proof of this). He stated that before and after his mother's death the previous year, his father (who until then had consulted with him on financial matters) had behaved in an uncharacteristically irrational manner.
Dr. D.J. Le Doux, who had been the late Mrs. Brousseau's attending physician, backed up Judge Brousseau, stating that the elder Brousseau appeared to be mentally unbalanced by his wife's illness and death. Ultimately, the deed of conveyance was deemed null and void. Mrs. Sage was ousted from her father's house on Star Street, and the case effectively estranged her from her father and brother.
On October 15, 1903, Judge Julius Brousseau, who had been suffering from Bright's disease, passed away at his daughter Mabel's house. His obituary identified him as a former president of the Los Angeles Board of Education and a former Democratic nominee for Superior Judge (despite the judge's popularity and spotless reputation, he lost the election because Los Angeles was overwhelmingly Republican at the time). Brousseau's obituary added "No citizen of Los Angeles had a better reputation for integrity and good citizenship than Brousseau. Both as a lawyer and as a citizen, he commanded the respect of all who knew him, and he was greatly loved by his friends and intimate associates."
Six members of the Bar Association were appointed as pallbearers. The Brousseau sisters asked that as many members of the Bar as possible attend the funeral. The Masons took on the responsibility of transporting Judge Brousseau's body to Evergreen Cemetery and concluding the funeral ceremony.
If only every attorney in Los Angeles had Brousseau's good character...
Julius Brousseau was born in New York in 1835. His parents were French Canadian immigrants.
Brousseau became an attorney. His career soon took him to Michigan, where he married Caroline Yakeley. Oldest child Kate was born in 1862. The Brousseaus moved to Illinois and had three more children (Mabel in 1871, Edward in 1875, and Ray in 1877) before moving to Los Angeles in 1877.
A few words should be said about Los Angeles in the 1870s: it was still the wild, wild west. The Brousseaus arrived less than seven years after Michel Lachenais was lynched (by his fellow Frenchmen, no less) and about six years after the deadliest race riot in U.S. history - the Chinese Massacre. In the 1860s, greater Los Angeles averaged 20 murders per year (with a population of about 7,000 people) - up to 20 times the murder rate for New York City at the time. Just three years prior to the Brousseaus' arrival, notorious bandit Tiburcio Vasquez was finally caught in modern-day Santa Clarita. Los Angeles had a well-deserved reputation for being tough, lawless, and just plain scary.
Somehow, that didn't deter the Brousseaus.
Julius set up a law office in units 56 and 57 of the ornate Baker Block (which would later be demolished in 1942 to make way for the 101 freeway). If you are driving on the 101 through downtown, the building would have been in the middle of the northbound lanes just north of where the freeway crosses Main Street.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the Brousseaus joined the French Benevolent Society. In 1878, after just a year in LA, the Society selected Julius as a committee member (Constant Meyer, who had to leave town for an extended period of time, was stepping down).
By 1886, Julius had partnered with D.P. Hatch in a law firm. Brousseau & Hatch were based out of units 31, 32, and 56 in the Baker Block (presumably, Julius had kept his old office upstairs). Their names occasionally appeared in the real-estate transaction section of local newspapers - including two plots of land in the San Gabriel Valley's Arcadia tract that year to Prudent Beaudry.
Julius was a patron of the Acacia chapter of the Order of the Eastern Star, a Masonic organization which is open to both men and women. The 1887 city directory also lists him as "Master of Robert Bruce Chapter, no. 6, Rose Croix". Julius was also a Shriner, belonging to the Al Malaikah Temple. Today, the Temple is headquartered at the Shrine Auditorium.
The fabled Brousseau Mansion - one of the first grand homes on Bunker Hill - was built around 1878. Located at 238 South Bunker Hill Avenue (between Second and Third Streets), this was the house where eldest child Kate began her decades-long teaching career. Sadly, the house was torn down in 1966. The Broad now takes up most of the block.
Oddly for a man known for good moral character, Julius appeared on a list of delinquent taxpayers for a lot in the Starr tract and some personal property in 1893. He was on the list again the following year for two lots in the Leonis tract and some land in a subdivision. It isn't clear if the delinquent properties were all his or if the matter was related to his occasional handling of real estate transactions.
After Miguel Leonis died, much of his massive estate went to attorneys' fees. Per an 1896 newspaper article, one of those attorneys just so happened to be Julius Brousseau. One-sixth of Rancho El Escorpion was claimed by the Domec sisters - Espiritu Chijulla Menendez Leonis' sisters - but their claim was disputed by a Robert S. Baker.
Judge Clark also changed the guardianship of a minor heir during litigation proceedings, making Julius the child's guardian ad litem. The Domec sisters - one of whom was the mother of said child - considered this a conflict of interest. They asked Julius to step down and allow Montgomery & Son to represent them.
When Julius declined, he was accused of making disparaging comments about Montgomery, which he denied. As if the Leonis case weren't already convoluted enough, the accusations and the alleged conflict of interest had to be hashed out in court. Rabble-rousing Major Horace Bell, who was Baker's attorney, pointed out that he himself was in a similar position.
Brousseau, at one point, appeared confused about exactly how much of Rancho El Escorpion his clients were claiming. Judge Clark asked for clarification about how much of the rancho the Leonis estate was entitled to. Brousseau responded that if he had made a mistake in his earlier statement, he would amend his answer. He also asked to be relieved of his duty as the minor heir's guardian ad litem.
A few months later, a different newspaper article identified Julius Brousseau not just as an attorney, but as a judge. His father Julius Brousseau Sr., by now 83 and a widower, had been defrauded out of his house and property by Mrs. Lizzie Sage - Julius' sister.
Judge Brousseau testified in the ensuing fraud case. He gave his age as 61, prompting many in the courtroom to comment that he didn't look over 50 (many French people don't age...my own family is proof of this). He stated that before and after his mother's death the previous year, his father (who until then had consulted with him on financial matters) had behaved in an uncharacteristically irrational manner.
Dr. D.J. Le Doux, who had been the late Mrs. Brousseau's attending physician, backed up Judge Brousseau, stating that the elder Brousseau appeared to be mentally unbalanced by his wife's illness and death. Ultimately, the deed of conveyance was deemed null and void. Mrs. Sage was ousted from her father's house on Star Street, and the case effectively estranged her from her father and brother.
On October 15, 1903, Judge Julius Brousseau, who had been suffering from Bright's disease, passed away at his daughter Mabel's house. His obituary identified him as a former president of the Los Angeles Board of Education and a former Democratic nominee for Superior Judge (despite the judge's popularity and spotless reputation, he lost the election because Los Angeles was overwhelmingly Republican at the time). Brousseau's obituary added "No citizen of Los Angeles had a better reputation for integrity and good citizenship than Brousseau. Both as a lawyer and as a citizen, he commanded the respect of all who knew him, and he was greatly loved by his friends and intimate associates."
Six members of the Bar Association were appointed as pallbearers. The Brousseau sisters asked that as many members of the Bar as possible attend the funeral. The Masons took on the responsibility of transporting Judge Brousseau's body to Evergreen Cemetery and concluding the funeral ceremony.
If only every attorney in Los Angeles had Brousseau's good character...
Sunday, November 19, 2017
Getting Ready for StaRGazing 2018!
I'm still bummed about the French Hospital.
However, I am pleased to announce that I will be giving another Frenchtown lecture at Greater Los Angeles Area Mensa's 2018 Regional Gathering on Presidents' Day weekend.
This won't be a rehash of my first lecture. I'll have more time to speak, which means I can cover more people and places. Also, since the RG is taking place in San Pedro, I will be covering the South Bay's forgotten French citizens (something I haven't had time to squeeze into previous talks).
Book your hotel room and get your ticket SOON if you want to attend - the discounted rooms are going fast.
As of this writing, I'm scheduled to speak in the Doubletree's Catalina ballroom at 3:20 pm on Saturday, February 17, 2018.
See you soon!
However, I am pleased to announce that I will be giving another Frenchtown lecture at Greater Los Angeles Area Mensa's 2018 Regional Gathering on Presidents' Day weekend.
This won't be a rehash of my first lecture. I'll have more time to speak, which means I can cover more people and places. Also, since the RG is taking place in San Pedro, I will be covering the South Bay's forgotten French citizens (something I haven't had time to squeeze into previous talks).
Book your hotel room and get your ticket SOON if you want to attend - the discounted rooms are going fast.
As of this writing, I'm scheduled to speak in the Doubletree's Catalina ballroom at 3:20 pm on Saturday, February 17, 2018.
See you soon!
Monday, November 13, 2017
The Fate of the French Hospital
The Pacific Alliance Medical Center, formerly the French Hospital, is closing next month.
Putting aside the fate of one of the last surviving relics of LA's obliterated French community (I'm sure I don't need to comment on how I feel about THAT), there is the issue of downtown LA still needing hospital facilities.
When the hospital changed hands in 1989, it came very close to closing entirely, and was saved by a hardworking team of medical professionals, local Chinatown residents, and a generous benefactor in Japan. The 1980s was a rough decade for downtown, and several hospitals in the area (chief amongst them Linda Vista) closed entirely.
To date, I have mapped over 400 French-associated sites in Southern California. The French Hospital - the site where this journey began - was the first place I mapped. The French Hospital survived some of downtown's darkest days...only to be felled 28 years later by the cost of earthquake retrofitting (as I don't have a legal or medical background, I don't feel qualified to comment on the lawsuit mentioned in the linked article).
What will happen to the building? I wish I knew.*
The hospital building has no landmark status or other protection (in spite of being LA's second-oldest surviving hospital**...and in spite of the long-empty Japanese Hospital in Boyle Heights being landmarked).
For once, I don't have any pithy commentary to add. I'm too sad.
*I know it's not the original building from 1869. However...Chinatown legend has it that part of the original adobe hospital building is encased somewhere within the current facility's walls. If the building ends up falling to the wrecking ball and a section of 158-year-old adobe wall turns up, SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME. If it still exists (and I realize this is an extreme long shot), it belongs in a museum. (Even if it's badly damaged and looks like hell, if it's survived at all, it's still part of our heritage and still worth saving.)
**The article claims the French Hospital is LA's oldest. It's not - St. Vincent's is older. Also, the hospital was established in 1869, making it 158 years old, not 157 as the article claims.
Putting aside the fate of one of the last surviving relics of LA's obliterated French community (I'm sure I don't need to comment on how I feel about THAT), there is the issue of downtown LA still needing hospital facilities.
When the hospital changed hands in 1989, it came very close to closing entirely, and was saved by a hardworking team of medical professionals, local Chinatown residents, and a generous benefactor in Japan. The 1980s was a rough decade for downtown, and several hospitals in the area (chief amongst them Linda Vista) closed entirely.
To date, I have mapped over 400 French-associated sites in Southern California. The French Hospital - the site where this journey began - was the first place I mapped. The French Hospital survived some of downtown's darkest days...only to be felled 28 years later by the cost of earthquake retrofitting (as I don't have a legal or medical background, I don't feel qualified to comment on the lawsuit mentioned in the linked article).
What will happen to the building? I wish I knew.*
The hospital building has no landmark status or other protection (in spite of being LA's second-oldest surviving hospital**...and in spite of the long-empty Japanese Hospital in Boyle Heights being landmarked).
For once, I don't have any pithy commentary to add. I'm too sad.
*I know it's not the original building from 1869. However...Chinatown legend has it that part of the original adobe hospital building is encased somewhere within the current facility's walls. If the building ends up falling to the wrecking ball and a section of 158-year-old adobe wall turns up, SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME. If it still exists (and I realize this is an extreme long shot), it belongs in a museum. (Even if it's badly damaged and looks like hell, if it's survived at all, it's still part of our heritage and still worth saving.)
**The article claims the French Hospital is LA's oldest. It's not - St. Vincent's is older. Also, the hospital was established in 1869, making it 158 years old, not 157 as the article claims.
Monday, October 30, 2017
Lost LA: I Love You, But You're Bringing Me Down
Dear KCET/Lost LA:
I like you guys. I really do. But this is the SECOND time you've gotten mustard up my nose (French idiom - you guys are smart; I trust you to look it up).
I previously called out a Lost LA writer for excluding BOTH the Circle Catholique Francais AND the French Benevolent Society - LA's second-ever benevolent society (the Hebrew Benevolent Society, now known as Jewish Family Service of Los Angeles, is older) and easily its longest-lasting - from an article on historic immigrant support societies.
I contacted KCET about this glaring omission on August 3, 2016, but didn't get a response until October 21. (Really? Come on. Not cool.)
I'm sure you can understand how this course of action might lead some readers to think the omissions were deliberate. (Especially since the FBS was the city's second-oldest benevolent society, supported a large ethnic enclave in addition to admitting non-French patients, established the city's second-oldest hospital - which remains open under another name - and still owns the land purchased for the hospital way back in 1869.)
I'm reasonably forgiving. I am not, however, a doormat.
Way back in March, I posted an entry on Raymond Alexandre's Roundhouse - LA's first known example of fantasy architecture (which went on to become its first amusement park and first kindergarten).
Guess what I saw earlier tonight? You guys just ran your OWN entry on the Roundhouse.
I read your articles regularly. For the most part, I enjoy them.
But may I please ask for a little consideration?
Take a long, hard look at a map of Los Angeles - preferably on Google, since it lists the city's historically ethnic neighborhoods by name.
Every other ethnic enclave in the city still has a home. Mine was weakened by Prohibition, bulldozed, slashed in half by a freeway, and paved over in the name of progress before either of my parents were born. I will never truly be able to walk Frenchtown's streets - what does remain of the enclave has been largely transformed into Little Tokyo and Chinatown.
LA's forgotten French may just be article fodder to some writers, but they are the extended family I don't have. I make no apologies for being fiercely protective of Frenchtown and its citizens.
I use this blog to fight a nearly impossible battle: keeping Frenchtown's memories alive and giving French Angelenos their due.
As much as I appreciate seeing LA's French history recognized, sometimes it can be hard not to feel like my toes are being stepped on. Other writers have deliberately omitted French contributions to LA history, stolen article ideas I'd pitched to the same publications that employ them, stolen content from this blog, and published articles with a downright offensive number of factual errors.
Your article was thorough and well-researched (I could only find one error: M. Alexandre's first name was Raymond, not Ramon). But when I see the obscure subject of a niche blog entry (mine) crop up somewhere else, I have to wonder where the idea originated (wouldn't you?).
I would never knowingly step on another historian's toes. All I ask is that the same courtesy be extended in return. Putain, j'en ai marre.
And as long as I'm on my soapbox, I would like to politely, but firmly, remind everyone who does read this of something I've said before (and will politely, but firmly, repeat until everyone gets it):
We were here, too.
We have been here since 1827.
We made a LOT of contributions to Los Angeles that helped take it from dusty pueblo to world-class city.
We matter just as much as every other ethnic group in Los Angeles.
Don't sell us short.
Sincerely,
C.C. de Vere
I like you guys. I really do. But this is the SECOND time you've gotten mustard up my nose (French idiom - you guys are smart; I trust you to look it up).
I previously called out a Lost LA writer for excluding BOTH the Circle Catholique Francais AND the French Benevolent Society - LA's second-ever benevolent society (the Hebrew Benevolent Society, now known as Jewish Family Service of Los Angeles, is older) and easily its longest-lasting - from an article on historic immigrant support societies.
I contacted KCET about this glaring omission on August 3, 2016, but didn't get a response until October 21. (Really? Come on. Not cool.)
I'm sure you can understand how this course of action might lead some readers to think the omissions were deliberate. (Especially since the FBS was the city's second-oldest benevolent society, supported a large ethnic enclave in addition to admitting non-French patients, established the city's second-oldest hospital - which remains open under another name - and still owns the land purchased for the hospital way back in 1869.)
I'm reasonably forgiving. I am not, however, a doormat.
Way back in March, I posted an entry on Raymond Alexandre's Roundhouse - LA's first known example of fantasy architecture (which went on to become its first amusement park and first kindergarten).
Guess what I saw earlier tonight? You guys just ran your OWN entry on the Roundhouse.
I read your articles regularly. For the most part, I enjoy them.
But may I please ask for a little consideration?
Take a long, hard look at a map of Los Angeles - preferably on Google, since it lists the city's historically ethnic neighborhoods by name.
Every other ethnic enclave in the city still has a home. Mine was weakened by Prohibition, bulldozed, slashed in half by a freeway, and paved over in the name of progress before either of my parents were born. I will never truly be able to walk Frenchtown's streets - what does remain of the enclave has been largely transformed into Little Tokyo and Chinatown.
LA's forgotten French may just be article fodder to some writers, but they are the extended family I don't have. I make no apologies for being fiercely protective of Frenchtown and its citizens.
I use this blog to fight a nearly impossible battle: keeping Frenchtown's memories alive and giving French Angelenos their due.
As much as I appreciate seeing LA's French history recognized, sometimes it can be hard not to feel like my toes are being stepped on. Other writers have deliberately omitted French contributions to LA history, stolen article ideas I'd pitched to the same publications that employ them, stolen content from this blog, and published articles with a downright offensive number of factual errors.
Your article was thorough and well-researched (I could only find one error: M. Alexandre's first name was Raymond, not Ramon). But when I see the obscure subject of a niche blog entry (mine) crop up somewhere else, I have to wonder where the idea originated (wouldn't you?).
I would never knowingly step on another historian's toes. All I ask is that the same courtesy be extended in return. Putain, j'en ai marre.
And as long as I'm on my soapbox, I would like to politely, but firmly, remind everyone who does read this of something I've said before (and will politely, but firmly, repeat until everyone gets it):
We were here, too.
We have been here since 1827.
We made a LOT of contributions to Los Angeles that helped take it from dusty pueblo to world-class city.
We matter just as much as every other ethnic group in Los Angeles.
Don't sell us short.
Sincerely,
C.C. de Vere
Thursday, October 19, 2017
We're Still Here, Part 6: Hollywood and West Hollywood
Back in the day, Hollywood and West Hollywood were mostly farmland and well outside of Los Angeles proper.
Today, nothing remains of the farm north of Gower Street where Joseph Mascarel grew tomatoes and other vegetables. René Blondeau's tavern, rented to early filmmakers who used it as Hollywood's first film studio, was torn down long ago to make room for Gower Gulch Plaza (what IS it with Gower Street and erased history?).
But there are still remnants of the area's connections to France (and French-speaking Belgium).
Early Hollywood booster Daeida Wilcox was so keen to bring culture to the new town that she approached French artist Paul de Longpré, offering three lots of her own property for a home, studio, art gallery, and expansive flower gardens. The de Longpré estate was such a popular tourist attraction that the Pacific Electric Railway's fabled Balloon Route had to add a trolley spur on nearby Ivar Avenue to handle the crowds.
The Mission Revival house (designed by Québecois architect Louis Bourgeois - do not confuse with French artist Louise Bourgeois) is long gone. Commercial buildings and a parking facility now stand on the site (Cahuenga Boulevard north of Hollywood Boulevard).
But, six blocks southwest...
...De Longpré Park is open from dawn to dusk...
...on De Longpré Avenue.
In a more touristy part of Hollywood, the Walk of Fame pays tribute to some of the entertainment industry's biggest French (and French-American) names.
Not pictured (due to construction chaos, vendor carts, or sluggish tourists): Joan Blondell, Henri Rene, Jean Renoir (son of painter Pierre-Auguste Renoir, dubbed "the greatest of all directors" by Orson Welles), and Rod La Rocque.
Musso & Frank Grill, the oldest restaurant in Hollywood, has French roots. Founded in 1919 by Frank Toulet, the restaurant was called Francois, or Frank's Café, until Toulet took on Joseph Musso as a business partner. The menu, created long ago by their (French) chef Jean Rue, has changed very little in the past 98 years.
Hat tip to my mom's family...
Normandie Avenue, one of the longest streets in Los Angeles County at 22.5 miles, stretches from Hollywood to Harbor City. It's not a coincidence that Normandie Avenue, named for a coastal, seafaring province, got its name while Joseph Mascarel - a career sailor - served as Mayor of Los Angeles.
Close to where Hollywood and Los Feliz meet Griffith Park, there is a Ponet Drive. (Don't try to drive in this neighborhood...just don't. No parking, no stopping, super skinny roads clearly meant only for residents. Just trust me when I say it's there.)
Speaking of Victor Ponet...
Victor Ponet - cabinetmaker, city undertaker, Belgian vice consul, President of the Evergreen Cemetery Association, vendor of whatever else he could sell from his coffin showroom - retired to a farm that made up much of modern-day West Hollywood. In those days, however, it was definitely still the country.
Victor donated the land and original building for St. Victor Catholic Church, which remains active to this day.
Victor's descendants, the Montgomery family, developed Sunset Plaza on land inherited from Victor.
Today, nothing remains of the farm north of Gower Street where Joseph Mascarel grew tomatoes and other vegetables. René Blondeau's tavern, rented to early filmmakers who used it as Hollywood's first film studio, was torn down long ago to make room for Gower Gulch Plaza (what IS it with Gower Street and erased history?).
But there are still remnants of the area's connections to France (and French-speaking Belgium).
Early Hollywood booster Daeida Wilcox was so keen to bring culture to the new town that she approached French artist Paul de Longpré, offering three lots of her own property for a home, studio, art gallery, and expansive flower gardens. The de Longpré estate was such a popular tourist attraction that the Pacific Electric Railway's fabled Balloon Route had to add a trolley spur on nearby Ivar Avenue to handle the crowds.
The Mission Revival house (designed by Québecois architect Louis Bourgeois - do not confuse with French artist Louise Bourgeois) is long gone. Commercial buildings and a parking facility now stand on the site (Cahuenga Boulevard north of Hollywood Boulevard).
But, six blocks southwest...
...De Longpré Park is open from dawn to dusk...
...on De Longpré Avenue.
In a more touristy part of Hollywood, the Walk of Fame pays tribute to some of the entertainment industry's biggest French (and French-American) names.
 |
| Leslie Caron |
 |
| Louis Jourdan |
 |
| Pierre Cossette |
 |
| Maurice Tournier |
 |
| Sarah Bernhardt |
 |
| Pierre Monteux |
 |
| Walt Disney (What? He totally counts) |
 |
| Sharon Gless. As in, THAT Gless family. |
 |
| Roy Disney |
 |
| Adolphe Menjou |
 |
| Claudette Colbert |
 |
| Franchot Tone |
 |
| Laura La Plante |
 |
| Robert Goulet |
 |
| Dorothy Lamour |
 |
| Filmmaking pioneer Auguste Lumiere. (Why is his name spelled incorrectly?) |
 |
| Nanette Fabray |
 |
| Maurice Chevalier |
 |
| Renée Adorée |
 |
| The other filmmaking brother, Louis Lumiere. |
 |
| Rudy Vallee |
Musso & Frank Grill, the oldest restaurant in Hollywood, has French roots. Founded in 1919 by Frank Toulet, the restaurant was called Francois, or Frank's Café, until Toulet took on Joseph Musso as a business partner. The menu, created long ago by their (French) chef Jean Rue, has changed very little in the past 98 years.
Hat tip to my mom's family...
Normandie Avenue, one of the longest streets in Los Angeles County at 22.5 miles, stretches from Hollywood to Harbor City. It's not a coincidence that Normandie Avenue, named for a coastal, seafaring province, got its name while Joseph Mascarel - a career sailor - served as Mayor of Los Angeles.
Close to where Hollywood and Los Feliz meet Griffith Park, there is a Ponet Drive. (Don't try to drive in this neighborhood...just don't. No parking, no stopping, super skinny roads clearly meant only for residents. Just trust me when I say it's there.)
Speaking of Victor Ponet...
Victor Ponet - cabinetmaker, city undertaker, Belgian vice consul, President of the Evergreen Cemetery Association, vendor of whatever else he could sell from his coffin showroom - retired to a farm that made up much of modern-day West Hollywood. In those days, however, it was definitely still the country.
Victor donated the land and original building for St. Victor Catholic Church, which remains active to this day.
Victor's descendants, the Montgomery family, developed Sunset Plaza on land inherited from Victor.
Saturday, September 30, 2017
We're Still Here, Part 5: The Natural History Museum
It may seem odd to some of my readers that the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County would have, let alone display, anything related to the city's French community. The words "Natural History Museum" tend to conjure up images of rocks, dinosaur bones, and dioramas of taxidermy wildlife. (Yes, the museum has plenty of those things too, but that's beside the point.)
When it opened in 1913, the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County was named the Museum of History, Science, and Art (Le Guide calls it "our County Museum", and I'm sure I don't need to point out that Los Angeles' population was about the same size as Anaheim's is today). The museum's art department spun off into the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA) and moved to Wilshire Boulevard in 1965. Today, the Museum's emphasis is firmly on science, but our history remains - in the "Becoming Los Angeles" exhibit.
And there are some nice surprises in store for French Angelenos.
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| General John C. Frémont is said to have signed the treaty ending the Mexican-American War at this humble kitchen table. |
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| Jean-Louis Vignes' brandy still and strainer |
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| Charles Ducommun's scales and shotgun |
Charles Ducommun was a half-blind smallpox survivor when he loaded up a donkey with as much as it could carry and WALKED from Arkansas to California, with this shotgun for protection. Incredibly, in spite of his reduced eyesight, the Swiss-born, French-speaking Ducommun continued to ply his trade as a watchmaker, opening a combination jewelry/hardware store. Ducommun's store grew into Ducommun Industries, a defense/aerospace supplier and California's oldest corporation.
I can't even tell you how much time I spent staring into that case, in awe of the fact that California's oldest corporation began with that tiny set of jeweler's scales.
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| Original log pipe, wrapped in heavy-duty wire |
Jean-Louis Sainsevain and the ill-fated Mayor Damien Marchesseault tried to solve LA's water problems with pipes made from hollow logs. It backfired horribly (over and over...), but at least their struggle is remembered in the Museum. (The artifact information doesn't list them by name, but at least there's a surviving log pipe on display. And if you're reading this blog, you probably already know I'm used to this sort of thing. Still...this would make a GREAT segment on Mysteries at the Museum.)
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| Feliciana Yndart, painted by Henri Penelon |
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| Don Vicente Lugo, painted by Henri Penelon |
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| Don Francisco Sepulveda, painted by Henri Penelon |
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| Animator's desk, chair, and multiplane camera - developed by Walt Disney |
Few people realize that Walt Disney had French ancestry. "Disney" is a corruption of "D'Isigny", after Isigny-sur-Mer in Normandy. I have never considered it a coincidence that Disney's Los Feliz home was influenced by traditional Norman architecture.
And then there's the city model.
Built in the 1930s as a WPA project, the model is an amazing tool for seeing what downtown looked like before freeways sliced right through Frenchtown (and a couple of Beaudry tracts).
Do note that the street we now call "Paseo de la Plaza" was labeled "Sunset Boulevard" on the model. You read it here first: Marchesseault Street was (at one point) renamed Sunset Boulevard.
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| Beaudry Avenue on the model. |
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| Pershing Square as it appeared before that hideous redesign in the 1950s. Do note the tiny Doughboy statue in the upper right corner. |
Sadly not on display: a portrait of Therese Bry Henriot, who emigrated from French-speaking Switzerland, married a French-born gardener, and established LA's first French-language private school. (Le Guide makes reference to Mme. Henriot's portrait hanging in the Museum. I can only presume it was moved to storage long ago.)
Nonetheless...can you imagine the tears of joy that seeing this exhibit brought to this French/Quebecois/Anglo-Norman Angeleno's eyes? (Who am I kidding? I'm crying as I write this.) For the first time in my life, I felt represented and acknowledged in my hometown. I have argued that we deserve our own museum (and my position on the matter isn't going to change), but just for one afternoon, it was as if the city had tapped my shoulder and whispered into my ear "I hear you".
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