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History Keepers: Anton Wagner’s Los Angeles, 1932–33

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Looking from Wall Street between 8th and 9th Streets, 1932
Los Angeles: 1932–33 by Anton Wagner, PC 17, California Historical Society

They are Los Angeles’s history keepers. They research, organize, store, repair, and care for historical artifacts and make them available to us online, at exhibitions, through publications, or in their homes. This summer, from August 5 to August 27, the California Historical Society celebrates Los Angeles’s history keepers with an exhibition at the historic El Pueblo National Monument.

A series of blogs brings our online visitors a sample of objects in the exhibition. Here we feature the work of Anton Wagner, who visited Los Angeles from Germany in the 1920s and 1930s. Wagner’s ancestors resided in Los Angeles since 1890 and were actively involved in the city’s affairs.

Los Angeles: 1932–33 by Anton Wagner
History Keeper: California Historical Society

In 1932 a young German PhD student arrived in Los Angeles. Anton Wagner wanted to determine how this American city and its environs had become a booming metropolis of two million people from a small, dusty mid-nineteenth-century town.

Mission San Fernando, Date Palms, Adobe Wall, 1932
Los Angeles: 1932–33 by Anton Wagner, PC 17, California Historical Society

During his penetrating investigation, Wagner researched the region’s history, critically examined its geography, interviewed its civic and business leaders, and covered the area of greater Los Angeles on foot. His comprehensive and illuminating study—most likely the first to present the geographical-historical development of an American metropolis—was published in Germany in 1935. The book—translated as Los Angeles: The Development, Life, and Form of the Southern California Metropolis—contains only a small number of the 400-plus photographs Wagner took to help document his findings.


Cover (left) and Interior Page, Map of the Greater Los Angeles Area (right)
Anton Wagner, Los Angeles: Werden, Leben und Gestalt der Zweimillionenstadt in Südkalifornien (Leipzig: Bibliographisces Institut, 1935)

In today’s downtown Los Angeles, Wagner would find 8th and Wall Streets the center of the commercial flower market—nothing like the residential bungalows he captured in the panorama above. But to him, it was not just the character of the landscape that had made Los Angeles an “insatiable city,” it was also the people. The two were inextricably linked. Still, could he have imagined, while traversing the city in the early 1930s, the phenomenal growth that would occur by the close of the decade, when the population increased by more than a quarter million?

Anton Wagner, Looking across Pershing Square from 6th and Olive Streets, 1932
California Historical Society

Pershing Square TodayCourtesy http://happeningindtla.com/listings/pershing-square/

History Keeper: California Historical Society
The California Historical Society holds one of the state’s top historical collections,revealing California’s social, cultural, economic, and political history and development through books and pamphlets, manuscripts, newspapers and periodicals, photographs, fine arts, costumes, prints and drawings, maps, and ephemera. At our headquarters in San Francisco and our outposts at the University of Southern California and the Autry Museum in Los Angeles, we hold millions of items in trust for the people of California. 

Exploring Anton Wagner
Anton Wagner’s photographs will be available online through the CHS website this Fall. On October 15, CHS archivists will speak about Wagner’s work at the LA as Subject Archives Bazaar at the University of Southern California. Over the next two years, the California Historical Society, with partner organizations, will explore the relevance of Wagner’s work to the study of American metropolises today and his legacy to Los Angeles.
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An exhibition by the California Historical Society and LA as Subject
Presented in partnership with El Pueblo Historical Monument and the El Pueblo Park Association
August 5–27, 2016
El Tranquilo Gallery & Information Center
634 N. Main Street (entrance on Olvera Street, W-19)
El Pueblo de Los Ángeles Historical Monument, Los Angeles, California
Tuesday–Friday, 10:00 am–3:00 pm
Saturday and Sunday, 9:00 am–4:00 pm







August 25, 2016: The National Park Service Turns 100

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A Mirror of Us: Yosemite National Park

Yosemite Valley, Tunnel View, 2014
Courtesy of Alison Moore

In August 2009 my beloved and I were vacationing in San Francisco when suddenly I was presented with an idea . . . almost as if it was an order being given. . . . “Go to Yosemite National Park,” it said. Being from New Jersey, and never having been to California or a national park before, I had no idea what we were in for.
Tom Caverly, “Unexpected Amazement,” Inspiring Generations: 150 Years, 150 Stories in Yosemite (Yosemite Conservancy, 2014)

“Unexpected Amazement”

At Mirror Lake, Yosemite Valley, 1911
California Historical Society
This is the final blog in our series “A Mirror of Us: CHS Celebrates the National Park Service Centennial.” We chose to title our series “A Mirror of Us” for its slight play on words. The series began and now ends with the above photo of early tourists in Yosemite having their photo taken at Mirror Lake, a spectacular setting with selfie-like appeal. 


Mirror Lake, Yosemite
California Historical Society

“A Mirror of Us” also sought to show how the national parks have been a mirror of the times, environmentally, socially, and politically. No park came into being easily, and many presaged social and environmental battles that continue today. No park has been immune to issues affecting mainstream society.

In 1864 Yosemite was the first place to be set aside and preserved by the federal government when, at the height of the Civil War, Abraham Lincoln signed the Yosemite Grant. Later efforts by John Muir and others led to the park earning full National Park status on October 1, 1890. It didn’t take long for tourists to discover Yosemite—and the pilgrimage was on.

The creation of the park did not come without controversy, however. From its earliest days of discovery by Americans in the early 1850s, Yosemite was emblematic of the often tragic course of westward expansion, when its original native people, the Ahwahneechee, were driven out of Yosemite Valley to make way for American settlement.

Charles C. Pierce, Paiute Indian Acorn Granary, Yosemite National Park, c. 1901
California Historical Society

During the 1910s Yosemite became the site of one of the greatest environmental battles of all time—one that remains controversial today: the flooding of the park’s Hetch Hetchy Valley by the City of San Francisco.

Isaiah West Taber, View across Hetch Hetchy Valley before the O’Shaughnessy Dam, c. 1900
Sierra Club Bulletin 6, no. 4 (January 1908)

Hetch Hetchy Valley, 2002
Courtesy of Daniel Mayer

And later, in 1970, as the streets of the nation were erupting in protest, Stoneman Meadow in Yosemite Valley was the site of an all-out riot between young “hippies” and park police who differed in their opinions about what constituted appropriate ways of enjoying the valley’s sublime scenery.

Confrontation between Rangers and Hippies, July 4 weekend, 1970
Still from CBS News Archive film; courtesy of Kerry Tremain

No National Park exists in a vacuum.

It is a simple fact, though, that people have treasured Yosemite National Park since long before it obtained National Park status. To celebrate Yosemite, and the National Park Service Centennial, we share images of Yosemite National Park and memories of people simply and joyously celebrating there.


Two Women in Yosemite National Park, date unknown
California Historical Society 
  
My license plate in Kentucky reads: YOSMTE. It is my happy, soul-satisfying refuge from the world.
Ann Jones, “Working on Five Generations,” Inspiring Generations

Bridalveil Falls, 2014
Courtesy of Alison Moore

 As we approached the park, the landscape became more and more beautiful. I have never experienced anything quite like it. And once we entered the park I was blown away.
Tom Caverly, “Unexpected Amazement,” Inspiring Generations



 Panoramic View of Tourists, Yosemite National Park, c. 1917
California Historical Society



Half Dome, Evening, 2014
Courtesy of Alison Moore

Half Dome is more a beloved friend than a granite monolith keeping watch over the Valley. One year I climbed up his back just to see from his point of view. Yosemite is a place more dear than Grandma’s house . . . . I simply need it to stay alive.
Rebecca Waddell, “The Day I Discovered Ashes,” from Inspiring Generations



Yosemite Visitors atop Glacier Point, date unknown
California Historical Society

Tuolumne River, Tuolumne Meadows, 2014
Courtesy of Alison Moore

The air in the high mountains is so clean, and the trees, grass, birds and flowers are fascinating beyond description . . . . Beautiful flowers bloom in a stream of icy water. I feel only gratitude. I want to bring you and our friends here, and I will.
Chiura Obata to Haruko Obata, 1927, from Obata’s Yosemite


Yosemite Indian Squaw, 107 Years Old, date unknown
California Historical Society

 After a few months of living in Yosemite I decided I never wanted to leave. I met a Yosemite Indian woman, an Ahwahneechee who was a direct descendant of Chief Tenaya. We married and had two children. We all love Yosemite. It is a park of our culture, our ceremonies . . . . We are fighting to protect and preserve it for the future of humanity. Ah Ho. All my relations.
Tom Vasquez, “Yosemitebear,” Inspiring Generations



Bridal Couple, 2014
Courtesy of Alison Moore

Group of Women at Camp Curry, Yosemite National Park, date unknown
California Historical Society

 I live in Yosemite . . . . It’s not that I am ashamed. No, quite the contrary—I am proud to call Yosemite my home. However, you drop the Y-bomb, and suddenly the pleasant vapidity of get-to-know-you banter veers down an ever-predictable and utterly confounding path.
“Wow.”  (The first word of response is always “wow.”) …”What’s that like?”
Amazing, drop-dead amazing.
Katie Wallace,Where Are You From?,”Inspiring Generations


Happy Tourist, 2014
Courtesy of Alison Moore

Alison Moore
Strategic Initiatives Liaison
amoore@calhist.org
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Read more in the Mirror of Us: CHS Celebrates the National Park Service Centennial series:





Redwood National and State Parks

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Learn more about the NPS Centennial Initiative

Los Pobladores: Celebrating the Founding of Los Angeles

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Millard Sheets, Mural Painting Depicting the Founding of Los Angeles, c. 1931–39
California Historical Society Collections at USC Libraries

On September 4, 1781, forty-four Hispanic men, women, and children of Native American, African, and European descent departed from Mission San Gabriel Arcángel accompanied by two mission priests and four soldiers. Los Pobladores (the settlers) walked nine miles to a location on the banks of the Porciúncula (Los Angeles River). There they established El Pueblo de la Reyna de los Angeles (the town of the Queen of the Angels).

Every year since 1981, the City of Los Angeles commemorates this official founding by recreating the journey of Los Pobladores along the historic route they traveled two hundred years earlier. On Saturday, August 27, 2016, walkers and bikers celebrate the city’s 235th birthday. Their journey begins at Mission San Gabriel and culminates at El Pueblo Historical Monument, a 44-acre park in downtown Los Angeles near the site of Los Pobladores’ original destination.

This year, as part of the city’s founding celebration, the California Historical Society and LA as Subject present the exhibition “History Keepers: Traversing Los Angeles” at El Tranquilo Gallery on Olvera Street, El Pueblo. In this exhibition, unique and curious objects from around the region bring our multifaceted city to us. Each tells a story about Los Angeles—how we move through the city and how the city moves through us.

Telling Los Angeles’ History through Artifacts
Featuring objects and images that depict landscapes; urban planning and architecture; travel, tourism, and mapping; airways, railways, roadways, and freeways; tunnels, canals, and bridges; cityscapes and streetscapes, “History Keepers: Traversing Los Angeles” is a cornucopia of the region’s geographical, environmental, cultural, and historical landscape. Should we ever forget or lose sight of our past, we need only return to these primary source materials to discover again where we came from and perhaps even where we are going.


Knife and Trunk of Tiburcio Vásquez, c. mid-1800s
San Fernando Valley Historical Society
In the mid-1800s the legendary, controversial Tiburcio Vásquez—son of a prominent Californio family—traversed the passes and foothills of the state, robbing and terrorizing inhabitants and romancing others. Remembered for his womanizing and crimes purportedly committed in the name of justice for his people, the bandido/outlaw—and folk hero to some—traveled with this trunk packed with his personal effects. This knife is all that remains of its contents.


Anton Wagner, Looking from Wall Street between 8th and 9th Streets, 1932
California Historical Society
In 1932 a German PhD student arrived in Los Angeles. Anton Wagner wanted to determine how this American city and its environs had become a booming metropolis of two million people from a small, dusty mid-nineteenth-century town. Wagner researched the region’s history, critically examined its geography, interviewed its civic and business leaders, and covered the area of greater Los Angeles on foot.

Lantern Slide, c. 1890–1950
Braun Research Library Collection, Autry Museum

Like other forms of “armchair travel,” viewers of magic lantern images were transported to destinations around Los Angeles without ever leaving their seats. Long before Technicolor or Kodachrome, they gathered in darkened spaces and saw Los Angeles in vibrant, even surreal, color. It was a trick accomplished with limelight, lenses, and hand-tinted glass slides, but to a nineteenth-century audience it might as well have been magic. Indeed, the projector responsible for these proto-cinematic effects came to be known as the magic lantern.

Copter Tested as Traffic Director, 1953
Los Angeles Times Photographic Archives, UCLA Library Special Collections
Accidents, traffic jams, and car chases are accepted realities for modern Angelenos. As we drive across the city, we often rely on reports from helicopters to alert us to traffic conditions. In this photographic print published in the Los Angeles Times on December 9, 1953, Los Angeles Police Chief William H. Parker and pilot Joe Mashman hover over the Civic Center. They are testing out the helicopters potential use by the Los Angeles Police Department (LAPD) in directing city traffic—particularly, as the accompanying caption notes, “along the freeways.”



 “Sunset Junction” Footage, 1927
Automobile Club of Southern California Archives

Click on the link above to view rare footage by Auto Club of Southern California engineer Ernest East of the junction of Sunset and Santa Monica Boulevards in 1927. As the film shows, traversing the city’s streets afoot and by car in the early years of the automotive age was not for the timid.



Klaus Staeck, Und Neues Leben Blüht Aus Den Ruinen
(And New Life Blossoms from the Ruins), 1980
Center for the Study of Political Graphics
This poster features an image of Los Angeles’s Four-Level Interchange, connecting the 101 and 110 Freeways, in northern downtown Los Angeles. Officially the Bill Keene Memorial Interchange, it is the first stack interchange ever built. Since the 1950s it has become an iconic international symbol of modern urban development, calling attention to the way urbanization and car culture around the world too often result in destruction of neighborhoods, pollution, and other threats to the environment.


Shelly Kale
Publications and Strategic Projects Manager
skale@calhist.org
An exhibition by the California Historical Society and LA as Subject
Presented in partnership with El Pueblo Historical Monument and the El Pueblo Park Association
August 5-27, 2016
El Tranquilo Gallery & Visitor Center
634 N. Main Street (entrance on Olvera Street, W-19)
El Pueblo de Los Ángeles Historical Monument, Los Angeles, California
Tuesday–Friday, 10:00 am–3:00 pm
Saturday and Sunday, 9:00 am–4:00 pm



Tintypes: The Instant Photographs of the 19th Century

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Photographer unknown, Charles Corsiglia and Family, 1860s
California Historical Society

Tintypes, or ferrotypes, were the Polaroids of the nineteenth century. The small metal photographs were processed immediately after exposure, offering more-or-less instant gratification for the people pictured.

Of course, what constituted quick results in the nineteenth century might seem excruciatingly slow to us today. With exposures of several seconds—too long for most people to comfortably hold a smile—it is no wonder that so many of the faces we see in tintypes seem to stare into the camera with a steely resolve (to stay still, no doubt).


Photographer unknown, Mrs. Duty Place (Alzada Sheldon) with Mrs. Stephen Sheldon, 1860s
California Historical Society

For photographers, the process was not instantaneous at all.  In fact it involved quite a bit of labor and skill. First a lacquered sheet of iron—not tin as the name suggests—had to be carefully coated with a collodion solution containing light-sensitive silver salts immediately before the plate was exposed in a camera. Then, the still-wet plate had to be quickly removed from the camera and processed in a series of chemical baths and water. The process was cumbersome, with all the equipment needed on site, including a large camera with a tripod and a dark room (or tent). Action shots were certainly out the question.



Tintype Camera (attributed to Benton Pixley Stebbins, 1825–1906)
Courtesy of National Museum of American History, Smithsonian Institution

Tintypes had limitations, but none of them prevented the medium from becoming extremely popular for portraiture in the second half of the nineteenth century. They were laterally reversed—a consequence of the direct positive process—but that meant people got a view of themselves that matched their familiar mirror image. The limited tonal range from gray to black could be improved with hand tinting.

Tintype galleries also did what they could to flatter sitters, posing them next to columns or in front of painted backdrops that served to underscore, or elevate, the sitter’s class status. Tintypes were also relatively inexpensive and durable, compared to earlier photographs like daguerreotypes and ambrotypes. One of the tintypist’s most popular markets was among Civil War soldiers who commonly sent home portraits of themselves to loved ones.


Civil War–era Tintypes
Courtesy PBS Newshour

The California Historical Society has numerous tintypes in its collection, many of them picturing San Franciscans seated in portrait studios with all the usual props. The rare few were taken out of doors, or carefully staged with clever backdrops to look like it.


Photographer unknown, James Walker, 1860s
California Historical Society


Photographer unknown, Unidentified Man, 1880s
California Historical Society


Photographer unknown, The Chutes, San Francisco, 1880s
California Historical Society


Erin Garcia
Managing Curator of Exhibitions



On view July 21–November 27, 2016 at the California Historical Society:
Two Exhibitions Featuring Contemporary and Historic Tintypes



California Historical Society
678 Mission St., San Francisco

Tuesday–Sunday, 11:00am–5:00pm

This Day in History August 29: National Chicano Moratorium

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Willie Herron and Gronk, Moratorium—The Black and White Mural, 1973
Courtesy of Nancy Tovar Murals of East Los Angeles Slide Collection
Chicano Studies Research Center, UCLA, University of California, Los Angeles

Forty-six years ago today, a rally to protest the Vietnam War turned deadly. Sponsored by the National Chicano Moratorium Committee, an antiwar activist group, the Chicano Moratorium march in Los Angeles drew up to 30,000 people eager to give their voice to the war’s injustices. Community members, families, artists, and students marched through East Los Angeles from Belvedere Park to what was then called Laguna Park.

During the rally, stores burned, over 100 people were arrested, many were injured, and four people were killed, including the prominent Chicano Los Angeles Times columnist Ruben Salazar.

The moratorium has been considered the largest anti-Vietnam War demonstration by a minority group and the largest demonstration of the Chicano Movement of the late 1960s and 1970s. And while the moratorium resulted in loss of life, it also gave birth to continued expression of Latino political power, including a murals movement that still resonates today.

Below we look at images of the Chicano Moratorium and examples of Chicano murals that were created in its wake.

Sal Castro (Photographer), Chicano Moratorium March, 1970
Courtesy Los Angeles Public Library, Security Pacific National Bank Collection

Sal Castro (Photographer), National Chicano Moratorium, 1970
Courtesy Los Angeles Public Library, Security Pacific National Bank Collection

Rioting Following Chicano Moratorium Committee Antiwar Protest, 1970
Courtesy of Los Angeles Times Photographic Archive, Department of Special Collections,
Charles E. Young Research Library, UCLA

Guy Goodenow (Photographer), Harbor College Mural, 1973
Courtesy of Los Angeles Public Library, Herald-Examiner Collection



 David Botello’s Dreams of Flight at Estrada Courts, East Los Angeles, 1973–78

Courtesy of UCLA Cesar E. Chavez Department of Chicana/o Studies http://publicartla.blogspot.com/2014/07/week-4-estrada-courts_6248.html



El Congresso de Artists Cosmicos de las Americas de San Diego’s We Are Not a Minority at Estrada Courts, East Los Angeles, 1978
Courtesy of Los Angeles Conservancy; photo by Adrian Scott Fine

Shelly Kale
Publications and Strategic Initiatives Manager
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Together with LA Plaza de Cultura y Artes in Los Angeles, the California Historical Society is developing an exhibition and related publication about contested Chicano Murals, part of the Getty’s Pacific Standard Time: LA/LA project sponsored by the Getty and Bank of America.

September 4, 2017 - January 29, 2018
¡Murales Rebeldes!: Contested Chicana/o Public Art
LA Plaza de Cultura y Artes
501 North Main Street
Los Angeles, California





This Day on August 29, 1911: A Survivor of American Indian Genocide Walks Out of the California Wilderness

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Ishi, the Last Yahi Indian Speaker (center), at an Unveiling of an Indian Monument,
Lincoln Park, Alameda, California, 1914
California Historical Society

In the early part of the twentieth century—following the near annihilation of California’s Native Americans the century before—a singular event occurred. In many ways, Natives and non-Natives still experience the impact of this event on communities across the state.

In the summer of 1911, at a slaughterhouse corral near the town of Oroville in northern California’s Butte County, a middle-aged man—most likely of the Yahi tribe native to the Deer Creek region—was discovered in a state of exhaustion and emaciation. The sole survivor of a small band of Indians thought to have been extinguished during the California Indian Wars, he had come out of isolation in the mountains.

Ishi at Time of His Capture, Oroville, Butte County, September 1911
Published in Popular Science Monthly (March 1915)
Courtesy of Phoebe A. Hearst Museum of Anthropology, UC Berkeley


Bruce A. Hardy (Photographer), View of “Ishi Site,” Oroville, CA, 1963
Courtesy of Phoebe A. Hearst Museum of Anthropology, UC Berkeley


This “unprecedented behavior,” Theodora Kroeber observed in her book Ishi in Two Worlds: A Biography of the Last Wild Indian in North America (1916), had resulted from crossing “certain physical and psychic limits” from which Ishi—as he was simply called, from the Yahi word for man—made choices as courageous and enlightened as the scope of his opportunities permitted.”

Kroeber was the wife of the famous anthropologist Alfred L. Kroeber, under whose care, along with that of Thomas T. Waterman, Ishi was placed. Ishi would live the remainder of his life adapting to the twentieth century at the University of California’s Museum of Anthropology in San Francisco. There he was closely studied for five years until his death in March 1916.

 (Left to right) Sam Batwai (Yahi translator), Alfred A. Kroeber, and Ishi, 1911
Courtesy of Phoebe A. Hearst Museum of Anthropology, UC Berkeley

To the museum’s anthropologists, staff, and visitors, Ishi imparted his language, survival and crafts skills, culture, and personal beliefs. To them—and to us even today—his life brought new understandings of Native American heritage in the context of and in contrast to twentieth-century urban life.


Ishi Salmon Fishing on Deer Creek, May 1914
Courtesy of Bancroft Library, UC Berkeley

Native and non-Native scholars, artists, cultural and educational leaders, and community members continue to explore these understandings. At the California Historical Society, for example:

  • ·         In conjunction with our year-long 2015 exhibition celebrating the 1915 San Francisco World’s Fair, the projected light artist Ben Wood examined Ishi’s life within the context of the fair, which Ishi attended. Wood’s piece Lopa Pikta (Rope Picture), a sound and light installation, was displayed in the windows of the California Historical Society after dark. See http://www.californiahistoricalsociety.org/exhibitions/past_exhibitions/illumination/.



Ben Wood, Lopa Pikta (Rope Picture), 2015
California Historical Society
  • ·         Beginning this July CHS offers two Native American exhibitions. One examines the impact of California’s only major Indian War (the Modoc War of 1872–73). The other features contemporary tintype portraits by photographer Ed Drew of members of the Klamath, Modoc, and Pit River Paiute tribes, some of them descendants of Modoc War survivors. See http://www.californiahistoricalsociety.org/exhibitions/current_exhibitions.



  • ·         This month in Los Angeles, and this October in San Francisco, CHS invites author Benjamin Madley to speak about his newly published book An American Genocide: The United States and the California Indian Catastrophe, 1846–1873. As the New York Times began its review, “The state of sunshine and pleasure is drenched in the blood of Indians.” See http://www.californiahistoricalsociety.org/exhibitions/events_calendar.html.



Benjamin Madley Discussing His Book (right) at Skylight Book in Los Angeles, May 2016
Courtesy of Shelly Kale


Shelly Kale
Publications and Strategic Projects Manager
skale@calhist.org

Sources


Labor Day in California

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Dorothea Lange, Migratory field worker picking cotton in San Joaquin Valley, California, 1938

Courtesy of Library of Congress

As this photograph reminds us, it is the toil of California’s citizens, residents, and migrants that has made our state’s economy the largest in the nation. This Labor Day we celebrate the work of Californians with images of prior Labor Day celebrations, some predictable, others not so.

Labor Day Parade, c. 1919
Courtesy of Coalinga Huron Library District
 
Labor Day Tree-planting Project, 1928
Courtesy of University of California, Davis
© University of California Regents

Downtown Labor Day Parade, 1936
Courtesy of Los Angeles Public Library


American Indians Actors on Float in Los Angeles Labor Day Parade, 1937
Los Angeles Times Photographic Archive, UCLA Library
© University of California Regents



Nursery School Children during Labor Day Celebration, Tule Lake War Internment Camp, 1942
Courtesy of the Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley

Our Pledge, Labor Day, Sept. 7, 1942
Courtesy of the Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley


One-fifth Scale Model of the Air Force Titan III Deep Space Probe Booster, Sun Valley Patriotic Rally, Labor Day, 1963
Courtesy of Los Angeles Public Library

200,000 Celebrate Labor Day at Venice Beach, 1982
Courtesy of Los Angeles Public Library

Orange County Cruisin’ Association’s Great Labor Day Cruise and Picnic, 1983
Courtesy of Los Angeles Public Library

Shelly Kale
Publications and Strategic Projects Manager

Celebrate California Wine Month!

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“Rustic Courtship," Tipo Wine, Italian Swiss Colony Winery, Asti, California, c. 1910
California Historical Society

Rustic. Hearty. Bright. These are only some of the commonly used descriptive words that evoke our state’s love affair with wine—a romance that began even before California achieved statehood in 1850.

Every September, when California wineries are busy harvesting their grapes, we celebrate California Wine Month. This September is the 12th annual California Wine Month, when wineries all over the state welcome visitors and stage numerous events—from tastings, to classes, to tours.

Grape Cluster Carried by Children, c. 1898
California Historical Society Collections at University of Southern California

Created by the Wine Institute in honor of the country’s foremost wine-producing state, the month-long celebration “recognizes the contributions of vintners and growers to our state economy, culture and lifestyle,” explains said Robert Koch, Wine Institute president and CEO.

Portrait of Grape Pickers on Hastings Ranch, near Pasadena, c. 1898
California Historical Society Collections at University of Southern California

The California Historical Society is pleased to whet your appetite with the following selection of wine labels. They were created during the 1930s by anonymous artists and designer employed by CHS’s collection of the Lehmann Printing and Lithographing Company in San Francisco, one of the country’s largest label plants of that era.

More examples of these labels are in our book, VINTAGE: California Wine Labels of the 1930s, edited by Christopher Miya and Ashley Ingram and published in collaboration with Heyday, available this Fall.




  







Shelly Kale
Publications and Strategic Projects Manager

______________________________________________________________________________

More about the history of wine in California from the California Historical Society:

·        CHS is the repository for the California Wine Association Records, 1894–1936. Read about this collection on our blog, http://californiahistoricalsociety.blogspot.com/2012/12/california-wine-association-records.htmland at the Online Archive of California http://www.oac.cdlib.org/findaid/ark:/13030/tf667nb130

·        Save the date! California Wine Month, September 2017, brings the publication of our 2016 California Historical Society Book Award, The City of Vines: A History of Wine in Los Angeles, by Thomas Pinney, the author of the definitive, two-volume account of winemaking in the United States, A History of Wine in America.The City of Vines is a rediscovery of where California’s wine industry began and its 100-year role as leader of our state’s viticulture industry. Read more about the CHS Book Award at http://www.californiahistoricalsociety.org/publications/book_award.html



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For a full listing of statewide events listing during California Wine Month, visit http://www.prnewswire.com/news-releases/cheers-to-california-wine-month-this-september-300315221.html


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For more information on VINTAGE: California Wine Labels of the 1930s, see https://heydaybooks.com/book/vintage/

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See more wine labels from CHS’s Lehmann collection on our Flickr Commons page, https://www.flickr.com/photos/chs_commons/albums/72157644930685916 

Admission without Compromise: William H. Seward Stands against Slavery

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 Seal of California
Courtesy of Department of Education, Sacramento, California

Tomorrow we celebrate the 166th anniversary of California’s admission to the Union as the 31st state. California was admitted at a time of controversy—when territories and states were either for or against slavery. To many, its admission came with a price—with passage of the Compromise of 1850, a package of legislative bills that designated California a free state while also mollifying an increasingly rebellious South.

Map of Free, Slave, and “Open to Slavery” States and Territories, c. 1856
Courtesy of Library of Congress

In the collections held by CHS is an original copy of the passionate argument made against the Compromise by then-New York Senator William H. Seward. Often called the “Higher Law” speech, it was Seward’s first speech to the U.S. Senate. Senator Robert Byrd has describe it as one of the most “significant ‘maiden’ speeches in the history of the Senate,” and it established Seward as a leading opponent of slavery.


Speech of the Hon. W. H. Seward on the Admission of California,
and the Subject of Slavery, 1850
California Historical Society


William H. Seward (1801–1872)
Courtesy of Library of Congress
Seward, who had been the governor of New York and later became Abraham Lincoln’s Secretary of State, was not an abolitionist, per se. But he was known for seeking legislation establishing rights for African Americans, and he and his wife, Frances, aided escaping slaves via the Underground Railroad at their home in Auburn, New York.

Charles T. Webber, The Underground Railroad, c.1893
Courtesy of Library of Congress

About one of the provisions of the Compromise of 1850, a Fugitive Slave Law, Seward wrote:  “We deem the principle of the law for the recapture of fugitives, as thus expounded, therefore, unjust, unconstitutional and immoral; and thus, while patriotism withholds its approbation, the consciences of our people condemn it.”

Although not an attention-grabber at the outset, within weeks of its writing 100,000 copies of the speech were printed and widely distributed. In it, Seward noted all of California’s advantages to the Union—its rapidly growing population, recent discovery of gold, abandonment of its military government and its new constitution. He strongly encouraged its admission as a state. He said:

“To-day, California is a State, more populous than the least and richer than several of the greatest of our thirty States. This same California, thus rich and populous, is here asking admission into the Union, and finds us debating the dissolution of the Union itself.”


Effects of the Fugitive-Slave-Law, 1850
Courtesy of Library of Congress

According to Robert Byrd, “Seward acknowledged that the Constitution’s framers had recognized the existence of slavery and protected it where it existed, but the new territory was governed by a ‘higher law than the Constitution’—a moral law established by “the Creator of the universe.” The New York senator, opposing all legislative compromise as ‘radically wrong and essentially vicious,’ demanded the unconditional admission of California as a free state. He warned the South that slavery was doomed and that secession from the Union would be futile.”

Trusting implicitly in the strength of the Union, however, Seward felt that slavery would “gradually give way, to the salutary instructions of economy, and to the ripening influences of humanity.”

Five Generations on Smith's Plantation, Beaufort, South Carolina, 1862 (printed later)
Courtesy of Library of Congress

“Let, then, those who distrust the Union make compromises to save it,” Seward wrote, “I shall not impeach their wisdom, as I certainly cannot their patriotism; but indulging no such apprehensions myself, I shall vote for the admission of California directly, without conditions, without qualifications, and without compromise.”

At the conclusion of his speech, Seward urged his fellow Senators to vote against compromise and to return the American ground to its pre-slavery state: “You found it free, and conquered it to extend a better and surer freedom over it. Whatever choice you have made for yourselves, let us have no partial freedom; let us all be free; let the reversion of your broad domain descend to us unencumbered, and free from the calamities and the sorrows of human bondage.”

Historic Stagville Plantation, Durham, North Carolina 2016
Courtesy of Alison Moore

In the end, the Compromise was enacted, California was admitted to the Union and civil war was forestalled for a decade more. At the same time, continued concessions to the Southern states consigned enslaved Americans to ten more years of government sanctioned hardship, torture, and injustice.

African American Family Portrait, 1870
Courtesy of Los Angeles Public Library
Alison Moore
Strategic Initiatives Liaison

Sources

Robert C. Byrd, The Senate, 1789-1989: Classic Speeches, 1830-1993. Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1994. http://www.senate.gov/artandhistory/history/common/generic/Speeches_Seward_NewTerritories.htm

The Compromise of 1850
http://www.ushistory.org/us/30d.asp; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Compromise_of_1850

William H. Seward, Speech of William H. Seward on the Admission of California delivered in the Senate of the United States, March 11, 1850(Washington: Buell & Blanchard, 1850) https://archive.org/details/williamhspeech00sewarich

William H. Seward
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_H._Seward

This Day on September 9, 1850: California Joins the Union

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Grand Admission Celebration, Portsmouth Square, October 29, 1850
California Historical Society
In our high-speed information age, celebrations are instantaneous. But the celebrants in the image above were 50 days late to the party. Only 11 days earlier, on October 18, 1850, news of California’s admission to the Union had arrived in San Francisco with the Pacific Mail steamship Oregon. It had taken 40 days for the news to travel from Washington, D.C., where, on September 9, 1850, President Millard Fillmore signed a bill into law proclaiming California the Union’s 31st state.

View of San Francisco, 1850
Courtesy of the Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley
The celebrations on October 29 formalized those held earlier. As the 1855 Annals of San Francisco described:
When, on the 18th instant, the mail steamer “Oregon” was entering the bay, she fired repeated preconcerted signal guns which warned the citizens of the glorious news. Immediately the whole of the inhabitants were afoot, and grew half wild with excitement until they heard definitely that the tidings were as they had expected. Business of almost every description was instantly suspended, the courts adjourned in the midst of their work, and men rushed from every house into the streets and towards the wharves, to hail the harbinger of the welcome news. When the steamer rounded Clark’s Point and came in front of the city, her masts literally covered with flags and signals, a universal shout arose from ten thousand voices on the wharves, in the streets, upon the hills, house-tops, and the world of shipping in the bay. . . . Flags of every nation were run up on a thousand masts and peaks and staffs, and a couple of large guns placed upon the plaza [Portsmouth Square] were constantly discharged. At night every public thoroughfare was crowded with the rejoicing populace. Almost every large building, all the public saloons and places of amusement were brilliantly illuminated—music from a hundred bands assisted the excitement—numerous balls and parties were hastily got up—bonfires blazed upon the hills, and rockets were incessantly thrown into the air, until the dawn of the following day.
California Learns It’s the 31st State, October 18, 1850
Courtesy of Friends of the California Archives 
The official celebration of statehood followed two weeks later. As the Annals reported:
For the past fifteen days the papers have been full of announcements and notices and the walls have been plastered with enormous posters. . . . No effort has been spared to make it a success and two thousand persons have subscribed for the dinner and ball at one hundred francs each. At sunrise the cannon was fired off, and the celebration inaugurated. Shouts and noises were heard from every quarter of the city, interspersed with shots from guns and pistols. While this was going on the various organizations assembled, banners in hand, and formed a large procession which was to parade the streets.
At the end of the procession rode a chariot, drawn by six horses, with 30 children wearing bonnets, including 6-year-old Mary Eliza Davis (1845–1929), the “Queen of the 1850 Admission Day Parade,” the first Anglo-American child born in San Francisco.

Francis Marryatt (artist), Admission Day in San Francisco, 1850
Courtesy of Library of Congress

Child’s Cap Worn by Mary Eliza Davis on October 29, 1850
California Historical Society
At the celebration, the historian Hubert Howe Bancroft wrote, “a new star was added to the flag which floated from the mast in the center of the plaza, and every species of amusement and parade was made to attest the satisfaction of the citizens of the first American state on the Pacific coast.” There were a number of designs for the 31-star flag, which became the official United States flag on July 4, 1851.

U.S. 31 Stars Flag Commemorating California's Admission into the Union, September 9, 1850
Courtesy of Zaricor Flag Collection
Of special note at the celebration was an ode written for the occasion by Elizabeth Maria Bonney Wills, whose family came from New England to San Francisco earlier that year. Distributed among other printed pieces to the crowds from a typographical press mounted on a float, it was sung in Portsmouth Square as part of the ceremonies.

Ode Sung at San Francisco October 29, 1850, at the Celebration on Hearing of the Admission of California into the Union as a State, 1850
California Historical Society; photo by Cheryl Maslin
Wills’s inspiring ode closed with her sentiment:
In the Band of the Union, oh, long may it be
The hope of th’ oppressed, and the shield of the free.

Hers was a sentiment that remained contested for hundreds of year. As the black journalist Delilah Beasely chronicled:
Was this to be a free State in every sense of the word? . . . . At first, it was not, for a good many slaves were brought in to the State. On April 1, 1850, an advertisement appeared in the Jackson Mississippian referring to California, the Southern Slave Colony and inviting citizens of slave-holding States, wishing to go to California, to send their names, number of slaves, time of contemplate departure, etc., to the Southern Slave Colony, of Jackson, Mississippi. The design was to settle in the richest parts of the State and to secure an uninterrupted enjoyment of slave property. The colony was to comprise about 5,000 white persons and 10,000 slaves. 
In 1852 Peachy of San Joaquin introduced a resolution to allow fifty southern families to immigrate in to California with their slaves. Some of them came without permission but on finding that they could not legally hold their slaves, they sent a part of them back while others became free.
Nevertheless, admittance to the Union was undeniably a cornerstone in the state’s growth and prosperity. Today Admission Day is a legal state holiday.

California Counties Maps, c. 1850 and c. 1880
Courtesy of California State Association of Counties
Shelly Kale
Publications and Strategic Projects Manager

Sources


  • Hubert Howe Bancroft, History of the Pacific States of North America, vol. VI, California, 1848–1859 (San Francisco: The History Company, 1888)
  • Delilah L. Beasley, The Journal of Negro History 3, no. 1 (Jan., 1918)
  • Katherine H. Chandler, “San Francisco at Statehood,” San Francisco Chronicle, September 9, 1900
  • Ernest de Massey, A Frenchman in the Gold Rush; the Journal of Ernest de Massey, Argonaut of 1849, trans. Marguerite Eyer Wilbur (San Francisco: California Historical Society, 1927)
  • H. R. 5419, “State Admission Day Recognition Act of 2006,” The Lincoln Highway
  • Frank Soulé, John H. Gihon, M.D., and James Nisbet, The Annals of San Francisco (New York/San Francisco/London: D. Appleton & Company, 1855)



My Summer Vacation: Dennis Searles in the Mohave Desert

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Dennis Searles, Searles Marsh, San Bernardino Co.,1890
California Historical Society

For many California youths, summer ends with regret: it’s time to go back to school. For some, “What did you do on your summer vacation?” is a familiar question. In recognition of summers gone by, we offer this account of the months between May 21 and July 4, 1890, when the young Dennis Searles, son of a borax industrialist, was sent to work on his father’s borax works in the Mohave Desert.

Inspired by the image above and Searles’ journal, this account originally appeared as the Spotlight feature in the Fall issue of California History (vol. 93, no. 3). The author has further illustrated it to give a visual sense of the time and place in the life history of Dennis Searles and his family.

Detail, Map of California Saline Deposits, 1902
From Gilbert E. Bailey, The Saline Deposits of California (Sacramento: California State Mining Bureau, 1902)
  
By Shelly Kale
“I took off my city clothes and put on my desert duds,” wrote sixteen-year-old Dennis Searles in his journal on May 24, 1890 (1), the fourth day of his journey from San Francisco to the hot, dry desert in northwestern San Bernardino County. It was an unconventional destination for a teenager of a wealthy family on summer vacation from boarding school, but Dennis Searles had been summoned by his father John to help at the family borax works at Borax Lake.
Searles Lake, San Bernardino County, California
Courtesy California Department of Fish and Wildlife
May 22, 1890—I went to my father’s office [in San Francisco] and was there informed of the fact that my father wanted me to leave that evening for home [Searles Lake]. Of course I was glad to go as I wished to see my father.
In his journal Searles (1874–1916) described ferrying across the bay to Oakland and taking the Southern Pacific Railroad south through the San Joaquin Valley, the Tehachapi Mountains, and, finally, to Mojave.

Railway Depot, Mojave, 1927
Courtesy of Pomona Public Library
May 23, 1890—Mojave is a town of about one hundred population situated in Southern California at the juncture of the S.P. and A. P. railroads. . . . The railroad buildings comprise about half of the town. Of the rest of the town very near every other house is a saloon combined with some other business. My father owns here a large barn, a warehouse and a half of a dozen other houses. The town contains a schoolhouse but the pupils are few and the teachers poor.
At this town on the intersection of the Southern Pacific and Atlantic & Pacific Railroads, Searles learned to his relief that he would be escorted through the Mojave Desert by Robert R. Charlton, manager of John Searles’ Mojave office (Charlton, who was an avid photographer, may have taken the image of Searles “picnicking” in the desert) (2). “Instead of having a wearisome ride of four days [on a 20-mule-team borax wagon],” Searles wrote, “I am going to have a pleasant ride of a day and a half.”

 Twenty-mule Team Hauling Borax out of Death Valley to the Railroad, c. 1900
California Historical Society at University of Southern California
May 24, 1890—These wagons come into Mojave in the morning, load and then go out in the afternoon. These big freight teams are made up of two large wagons, the hind wheels of which are seven or more feet high. There is an oil wagon also connected with the team. It takes about twenty-two animals to draw one of these wagons. The average load is about thirty thousand of Borax.
On May 25 Searles and Charlton began the 75-mile ride to Borax Lake “behind a light team” and on “a very good road.” The travelers arrived three days later at Borax Lake (later Searles Lake), “a large dry lake, as white as snow. . . . On all sides, high mountains rise, completely walling it in, the few large canyons forming its gates.”

Looking towards the Slate Range and Searles Valley, 1947
Courtesy of Searles Valley Historical Society
June 24, 1890—On our right the tall barren mountains rise, at their summits you can see dense beds of sand, someof these beds are hundreds of feet deep. On our left a dry lake shows itself, on its shore salt grass is growing in the sand.
Located at the upper end of the lake was the borax works, established in 1873 by John Searles, a gold rush pioneer and hard-rock miner whose daring feats included a skirmish with a Grizzly bear in 1872 (3).

John W. Searles (1828–1897)
The May 8, 1955 issue of the San Bernardino County Sun called John Searles a “Pioneer among Industrialists” for his discovery and mining of rich borax deposits at Searles Lake.

In 1878 Searles relocated to a new site and named it Borax. There he established the San Bernardino Borax Mining Company, eventually covering 2,000 acres (4).It was the start of a new industry in the county.

(Left) John Searles’ Borax Plant, Searles Lake, c. 1900
(Right) Searles Dwelling at Borax Works, Searles Lake, 1880
California Historical Society
May 28, 1890—The works for manufacturing the Borax are at the North Western end of the lake. There is somewhere near 30 buildings forming in itself a small town in the heart of the desert.
John Searles was the first to recognize the lake’s potential, but he certainly was not the last. In time, the lake’s saline mineral beds provided a continuing supply of minerals, including borax, sodium sulfate, and soda ash. In 1912, potash—a nutrient form of potassium—was discovered in the lake brine. Among its many uses, the Sausalito News noted, was “the making of glass, soap, bleaches, dyes, photographic chemicals, medicine, explosives, fertilizer,” and in “gold mining and many other industrial processes.” (5)  By 1979, the value of the lake’s mineral deposits was regarded as worth “billions of dollars.” (6)

Collecting from Searles Lake
Courtesy Searles Valley Historical Society
May 30, 1890—Now the regular routine of vacation has commenced, which I get very tired of within a month or so. It is get up in time for breakfast at half past five and then for the rest of the day there is plenty to do but one misses the company somewhat of young me as very near all the men are near onto 60.
Like the eponymous lake, Dennis Searles developed his potential over time. In 1895 he graduated with the first class of Stanford University (along with future president Herbert Hoover), majoring in engineering. He “made a brilliant record,” the San Francisco Call observed. “He had the reputation of being one of the ablest students there. He was probably the wealthiest . . . . Mr. Searles’ friends look to see him make a record in the days to come.” (7)  

His friends would not be disappointed. In addition to playing an active role as a Stanford alumni, Dennis Searles pursued a mining career, serving as vice president of Frank M. Smith’s (“the Borax King”) Pacific Coast Borax Company from 1909 to 1914 (8). He was Smith’s personal assistant in his numerous enterprises and director of the United Properties Company, which, when it was incorporated in 1911, was recognized as the “West’s Biggest Corporation” and “the most powerful corporation ever organized for the development of California, excepting that of the Southern Pacific Company.” (9)

Caroline Stetson Ayres and Dennis Searles, 1903
“Betrothal of Three Young Prominent Society Couples,” San Francisco Call, Sept. 23, 1903
“The engagement of Miss Ayres and Mr. Searles is without doubt one of the cleverest summer coups of Cupid,” wrote the San Francisco Call.
In 1904, Searles married Caroline Stetson Ayres (10). The couple, whose activities filled the society pages of the local newspapers, lived in Piedmont. On November 25, 1916, Dennis Searles, the “Oakland financier, real estate broker and clubman, and former secretary for F. M. Smith” died in an automobile accident when his car skidded off a road and over a 75-foot precipice near Saratoga, California (11).  

Nearly a year later, on September 21, 1917, Caroline Ayres Searles wrote a letter to her daughter, Mary, which she added to the last page of her husband’s journal from that summer of 1890: “Dear Little Mary, Mother is putting this safely away for you, hoping that someday, when you are old enough, you will read it and appreciate what a very fine little boy your dear Daddy was.”

On that “someday,” Mary would ignore her father’s “Hands off! Private” warning and open the cover of his journal. Inside she would learn what the Mojave Desert and borax mining were like in 1890. She would read about shooting coyotes, taking care of animals, sawing borax sacks and other chores, even a description of how to make healing ointment from horn-toads drowned in whiskey—all the features of desert life that filled young Dennis Searles’ days and nights at Borax Lake.

(Left) Dennis Searles with a Chinese worker; (right) Title page
Journal of Dennis Searles, 1890
California Historical Society, MSP 1933
May 25, 1890—As we are walking along I see a coyote standing looking at us about eighty yards away. I jump out of the wagon to get a shot at him but he disappears amongst the brush. He has been shot at before and knows what a man with a gun is.
Shelly Kale
Publications and Strategic Projects Manager
NOTES
  1. All quotes are from the Journal of Dennis Searles, May 21–July 4, 1890, MS 1933, California Historical Society.
  2.  James L. Fairchild, Russell L. Kaldenberg, Searles Valley Historical Society, Around Trona and Searles Valley (Charleston, SC: Arcadia Publishing, 2015), 63. A caption in “20-Mule Team Era Recalled,” San Bernardino County Sun, Dec. 2, 1962, reads “Time for Lunch: Dennis Searles is shown having a noon meal on the desert while he rests his horses. Such was desert travel in his day.”
  3.  James Fairchild and Russell Kaldenberg, Lecture on the History of Trona and Searles Valley, Maturango Museum, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PPIOu7wIIX8); Fairchild and Kaldenberg, Around Trona and Searles Valley, 9, 23, 24. In the early 1860s the Slate Range Stage Company brought prospectors and business people on a weekly basis from Los Angeles to this region originally inhabited by the Panamint Shoshone. In 1862 John, his brother (also named Dennis), and two other miners etched their initials on rocks in the Slate Range, a soda-salt marsh where they were mining gold and silver. The next year, having earlier suspected that there was borax in the soda, John attempted to test the mineral’s content in samples he brought to San Francisco. However, tests of the mineral’s existence in the samples were negative. Discouraged, the brothers returned to hard-rock mining, eventually moving to Los Angeles. In 1873, however, they were shown a borax crystal from the Slate Range area and renewed their interest. Claiming land on the salt marsh, they began extracting the mineral from the surface mud along the lake’s western edge.
  4.  George I. Smith, “Subsurface Stratigraphy and Geochemistry of Late Quaternary Evaporites, Searles Lake, California,” Geological Survey Professional Paper 1043 (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1979), 4.
  5. “Concerning San Bernardino Potash Discovery,” San Francisco Call, Apr. 9, 1912; “Extensive Use of Postash,” Sausalito News, January 6, 1912. In March that year President William Howard Taft urged Congress to enact a law protecting the region from private exploitation and five years later, in 1917, with America’s entry into World War I, President Woodrow Wilson signed a bill reserving the Searles Lake district for potash production and use. As the Los Angeles Herald explained the year before, “A famine in potash fertilizer is threatened by the European war.” “Taft Would Protect Potash,” Sacramento Union, Mar. 27, 1912; “Wilson Signs Potash Bill,” Red Bluff Daily News, Oct. 3, 1917; “Experts to Work Calif. Kelp Beds,” Los Angeles Herald, Jan. 4, 1916
  6. Smith, “Subsurface Stratigraphy and Geochemistry,”4
  7. “California Bachelors Are Interesting: Who They Are, How They Live and What They Do,” San Francisco Call, Oct. 15, 1899
  8. “Borax in Death Valley,” Los Angeles Herald, January 20, 1901. Smith’s company, founded in 1890, had absorbed the San Bernardino Borax Co. in 1895, five years after Dennis Searles’ visit, and shortly discontinued its operations; W. D. Hamman, “Potash Solutions in the Searles Lake Region—II,” Mining Science (May 2, 1912), 391.
  9. “Great Enterprises in Merger: West’s Biggest Corporation,” San Francisco Call, Jan. 1, 1911; “Gigantic Financial Concern Plans Big Things: United Properties Company Will Expend Millions in Oakland and Vicinity,” in Evarts Blake, Greater Oakland(Oakland: Pacific Publishing Co., 1911), 50–51
  10. “Betrothal of Three Young Prominent Society Couples,” San Francisco Call, Sept. 23, 1903
  11. “Dennis Searles: Funeral of Dennis Searles to Be Tomorrow,” Oakland Tribune, Nov. 27, 1916
This article originally appeared as the Spotlight feature in the California History journal (Vol. 93, #3), published by the University of California Press in association with the California Historical Society. California History, Vol. 93, Number 3, pp. 101–103, ISSN 0162-2897, electronic ISSN 2327-1485. © 2016 by the Regents of the University of California. All rights reserved.

Stanley Mouse and the Making of an Icon

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Prepare yourselves to see a lot of Stanley Mouse's work during the forthcoming 50th Anniversary of the Summer of Love. This notable 1960s artist will be well-represented in exhibitions all over the Bay Area and beyond in 2017, but do you know the story behind this legend’s most iconic work, displayed 50 years ago this very evening?


Born Stanley George Miller in California in 1940, this son of a Disney animator spent his formative years in Detroit, Michigan absorbing the city’s Motown and Motor City cultures. He was a quiet kid who often drew in class, earning him the nickname of “Mouse” in seventh grade, and his first taste of fame came from Detroit’s hot rod community, which was wild for his signature “Mouse pin-striping.” This led to T-shirts, and graffiti art, the latter of which prompted his expulsion from Mackenzie High School. He spent a year at Cooley High School, and then finished up at the Art School of the Detroit Society of Arts and Crafts—known nationally as the school that recognized the automobile as an artform.

Arts_and_Crafts.jpg


According to Mouse’s biography, “he dropped out to follow a higher calling to do rock posters in San Francisco during the sixties wartime era of social revolution, political passion and musical innovation.” His return to California in 1965 sent his art on a new trip. There he met Alton Kelley, then affiliated with The Family Dog, and the pair began producing rock posters for Chet Helms shows at the Avalon Ballroom. Mouse liked working with other artists—a penchant he refers to as one of his “Libra traits”—and this began a collaboration that would last into the 1980s.



630ac26895ac9c0126fc045a43f60ae0.jpgMouse’s hand, trained from years of t-shirt designing and hot rod striping, and his love of Art Nouveau combined well with Kelley’s of-the-moment style and keen eye for layouts. The two most-remembered Mouse and Kelley collaborations are counterculture complimentary: a play on the ZigZag man familiar to denizens of cigarette rolling papers, and a poster for one of the most famous rock ‘n’ roll acts of all-time. In 1966, the pair were commissioned to make a poster for a show featuring The Grateful Dead. For this band they’d never heard of, Mouse and Kelley first designed a sheet that incorrectly spelled the band’s name as “Greatful Dead;’ for their second attempt, they went to the San Francisco Public Library for inspiration. Mouse recalled: “We would go to the San Francisco library and peruse the books on poster art. They had a back room full of books you couldn’t take out with great references. We were just going through and looking for something. And found this thing and thought, ‘This says Grateful Dead all over it.’” What Mouse found was The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.




Omar Khayyam was a Persian poet, mathematician and astronomer who lived from 1048-1131, and a rubaiyat is a form of poetry (a quatrain rhyme)—hence The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. The translation best known to English-speakers and found by Mouse and Kelley was done by Edward FitzGerald and illustrated by Edmund Joseph Sullivan, with five editions published from 1859 to 1889 that were more interpretive than they were literal. Mouse was particularly drawn to a Sullivan illustration that accompanied Verse 26, and couldn’t leave it behind. “I hate to say this,” Mouse recalled, “but Kelley cut it out with a pen knife. I always say that we Xeroxed it, but there weren’t Xerox machines then. I finally found it about two years ago, the actual cut-out piece, and I went, ‘Oh, my God’... And the poem that goes with this illustration is fantastic. It’s short and sweet and had to do with wine, women and song.” A perfect match for The Grateful Dead sound.


Kelley appropriated the black-and-white Sullivan illustration, and Mouse colored it in. The resulting poster advertised The Dead’s Avalon Ballroom show with Oxford Circle, September 16-17, 1966, and cemented Mouse and Kelley’s presence in San Francisco’s rock poster scene.




The verse that accompanied the poster’s inspiration was ripe with symbolism for artists marketing to Flower Children. “Oh, come with old Khayyam, and leave the Wise / To Talk; one thing is certain, that Life flies; / One this is certain, and the Rest is Lise; / The Flower that once was blown for ever dies.” Although Mouse’s interpretation of the verse’s meaning might be as liberal as FitzGerald’s “transmogrification” of Khayyam’s original quatrains, it does make a great story and the poster hit its mark—becoming an everlasting icon for both Mouse and the band it advertised.
Stanley Mouse continues to create and sell art through Mouse Studios, and The Dead (or what remains of The Dead) are miraculously still touring. As for this visual piece of rock history, it continues to be appropriated by local apparel manufacturers who shall not be named, and, more importantly, will be given a prominent place in the de Young Museum’s Summer of Love exhibition coming in April of 2017. Be sure not to miss it.

By Nicole Meldahl

Sources not previously linked:

“News is a State of Mind”: Allen Cohen and The San Francisco Oracle

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The San Francisco Oracle #8 / Courtesy of Underground Comix
On this day 50 years ago, the first issue of The San Francisco Oracle was hot off the presses and being distributed in San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury neighborhood. Revolutionary in content and form, The Oracle tapped the best naked minds of its generation to distill and manufacture current events, and its founder, Allen Cohen, funneled all the art and optimism of his generation into a psychedelic periodical that lives on as an irreplaceable archive of 1960s “advocacy press." It was also part of a network that disseminated counterculture news across continents, exporting California culture in the process. Since the Golden State undeniably influenced the cultural and political climate of the United States in the 1960s (and into the present), then the proof is in the pudding: so goes San Francisco, so goes the country.


Although some believed otherwise at the time, The Oracle and its peers did not invent the concept of counterculture journalism; in fact, a vibrant underground press is actually an American tradition that dates back to Colonial New England. Pamphleteers flamed revolution in 1776, abolitionist broadsides championed equal freedoms during the Civil War, and leftist print demanded (nay, incited!) labor reform at the turn of the 20th-century. Counterculture newspapers may not have been new in concept, but they entered a golden era following Sheppard v. Maxwell--a 1966 Supreme Court decision that broadly defended freedom of the press and created space for dissenting print by reinforcing the 1st Amendment. Into this space emerged the much-beloved Oracle founded by Allen Cohen.
Allen Cohen, early 1960s / Courtesy of AllenCohen.us
After graduating from Brooklyn College in 1962, Cohen crossed the country by car to San Francisco--riding a wave of inspiration from Jack Kerouac’s On The Road. He moved to North Beach, searching for Beat poets, and soon befriended Allen Ginsberg, Gary Snyder and Lawrence Ferlinghetti, among others. But, despite some survivors, the counterculture community of lore he was chasing had largely left North Beach by the 1960s, and regrouped in San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury district. Cohen followed suit and eventually found work at Ron and Jay Thelin’s Psychedelic Shop, located at 1535 Haight Street. Perhaps this gainful employment accounts for TheOracle’sorigin story, which is almost as colorful as the newspaper itself. In many subsequent interviews, Cohen recalled a “telescoping vision of a newspaper with rainbows on it. In this dream, [he] was flying around the world to places like France, Russia, China and New York and everywhere [he] went, [he] saw people reading this rainbow newspaper.” Word spread and the Thelin brothers loaned him $500 with which Cohen secured a Frederick Street storefront to conduct his new business. His dream became a reality on September 3, 1966 when his first publication, titled P.O. Frisco, hit the streets of San Francisco.
The Oracle office in Haight-Ashbury, c. 1967. / Courtesy of AllenCohen.us
After some internal reorganization and a new editorial direction, Cohen’s paper was renamed The San Francisco Oracle to more accurately reflect its prophetic idealism. It was meant to serve as “a guide for young people who wanted to step outside the realms of the type of conventional thinking that was so prevalent in their parents’ and earlier generations,” Cohen said. “It provided them with a different avenue through beautiful artwork and words, which rang with truth and transcendence. Each issue served like a map of consciousness for those who were seeking a different, more exciting and better way of life.”
Allen Cohen (left) and staff in The Oracle offices, c. 1967. / Courtesy of AllenCohen.us
With Allen Cohen and Michael Bowen at the helm as editor and art director, respectively, TheOracle was a worker-owned cooperative that created a newspaper in which the form was as radical as the content. Advancements in offset printing, that was inexpensive and easy for amateurs, enabled the newspaper to “break free of the militaristic columns of traditional newspaper layout.” Lines were left unjustified or ragged, copy ran around pictures and psychedelic drawings, and articles were arranged in the form of mandalas or pyramids. Collages and full spreads of experimental photography were common, and the layout become more psychedelic as The Oracle crew became more adept at their craft. Using cutting-edge printing techniques, they utilized special screens, overlays and unique inks to create a signature psychedelic look. The Oracle pioneered the use of split-fountain printing in which colors leaked from under wood blocks separating the fountains, thus bleeding into one another to create the rainbows envisioned by Cohen in his dream. The Oracle also “escap[ed] the confines of print” by advocating a spiritualist mind expansion through the marriage of content and design. Cohen recalled, “To achieve the oracular effects we wanted we would give the text, whether prose or poetry, to artists and ask them to design a page for it not merely to illustrate it, but to make an organic unity of the word and the image.” Function followed form, and form followed content.



An Oracle page comes off the printer (top), and a later version of the same page. / Courtesy of AllenCohen.us


The first issue of the reconstituted Oracle, known as Oracle #1, was published on September 20, 1966. It was printed in black and white and did not feature the eye catching front page of later issues; however, its promise was present. Much of the issue pertained to Beat author Michael McClure, who was featured alongside a review of his controversial play, The Beard, and letters of support for the same from Allen Ginsberg, Norman Mailer, and Robert Creeley. Other articles highlighted topics prescient to the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood: they spoke of the criminalization of drug users; they affirmed humanness in the chemical age, and encouraged readers to follow the advice of Dr. Timothy Leary to “Turn on, Tune in, Drop out;” they noted the death of a prominent Zen figure; and they offered thoughts on music, photography, collage art and comics. These are all interesting to historians for their quintessential 1960s ethos, but two articles in this issue would define The Oracle’s role in the community for the next two years. The first is an anonymous editorial that argues the importance of “new media,” outlined The Oracle’s purpose, explained its place within a network of underground newspapers, and noted the cultural climate of California--a place of radical change. The second article is perhaps even more important. 

Featured almost inconspicuously on the back page, Allen Cohen boldly outlined a prophesy and called for its political enactment in “A Declaration of Independence.” Readers were called to attend this enactment, or gathering, in the Panhandle of Golden Gate Park on October 6, 1966 to note the passing of a California law that declared Lysergic Acid Diethylamide (better known as LSD) illegal. People attending this Love Pageant, as it came to be called, were told to bring the color gold, photos of personal saints and gurus and heroes of the underground, children, flowers, flutes, drums, feathers, bands, beads, banners, flags, incense, chimes, gongs, cymbals and symbols of joy.  


Oracle #1 (September 1966) versus the psychedelic look of Oracle # 5 , below(January 1967).

The Love Pageant proved invaluable training for future large-scale gatherings promoted by The Oracle, such as the Human Be-In in January of the following year, and solidified The Oracle’s stature within the Haight-Ashbury counterculture community. These types of events also significantly increased the newspaper’s circulation. From printing 3,000 copies of Oracle #1 in September of 1966, circulation grew to 50,000 for the Human Be-In issue (Oracle #5) in January of 1967 and over 100,000 copies were printed for each of the remaining seven issues. Oracle-sponsored events featured free copies of the paper, posters reformatted from cover art, and performances from frequent contributors. The Oracle’s media blitz preceding the Human Be-In placed Haight-Ashbury and its hippies on a national stage, and the event’s success precipitated a move to larger offices in Michael Bowen’s former flat on Haight Street near Masonic. As Cohen remembered: “the disaffected, the disenchanted, the mafia, the mad, the CIA, the FBI, the sociologists, poets, artists, American Indian shamans, East Indian Gurus, TV and movie crews, magazine and newspaper reporters from all over the world, and tourists” all descended on the neighborhood. Everyone was coming to San Francisco in the late 1960s, and, because of The Oracle, many of them wore flowers in their hair.


But, as they say, it takes a village, and The Oracle didn’t achieve this success in a vacuum. Underground newspapers in the U.S. had formed a loose coalition called the Underground Press Syndicate (UPS) in June of 1966--emphasis on loose, at least at the beginning. The story goes that Walter Bowart, editor of the East Village Other (EVO), was speaking to a reporter from Time over the phone, and was asked what this new organization was called. Seeing a United Parcel Service truck passing, he said: “Uh, UPS,” and defined it, when pressed, as the Underground Press Syndicate. The Syndicate’s purpose was “to warn the civilized world of its impending collapse...To offer as many alternatives to current problems as the mind [could] bear…[and] to consciously lay the foundations of the 21st century.” Incredibly, this last statement would prove to be fairly true. 


The first gathering of underground papers under the UPS umbrella was held at the Stinson Beach home of The Oracle’s Michael Bowen in March of 1967. Representatives from the L.A. Free Press, the East Village Other (EVO), Berkeley Barb, Detroit’s Fifth Estate, Chicago’s Seed, Mendocino’s Illustrated Paper, and Austin’s Rag, as well as counterculture “celebrities,” such as Chet Helms of The Family Dog, were in attendance. Participants Thorne Dreyer and Victoria Smith remembered it as a chaotic and predominantly symbolic meeting in which attendees spoke of their own beauty, lauded the “coming of a new era,” and vowed to create an illusory coordinated network of “freaky papers, poised for the kill.” Benefits of Syndicate members took form at a more formal conference hosted by UPS in Middle Earth, Iowa in June. Members could reprint each other’s content, exchange gratis subscriptions, and a directory of participating periodicals was disseminated to all. This enabled regional counterculture views to spread over a broad swath of territory, and UPS membership grew from 14 papers in 1966 to 271 papers in 1971, reaching Canada and Europe in addition to the United States.


There were two main types of underground newspapers to emerge in the 1960s: those that focused on the political, and those that focused on art and spirituality...although there was crossover in both. The Berkeley Barb and The San Francisco Oracle were two of the most prominent newspapers in the Bay Area, with The Barb falling into the political camp and The Oracle into the art camp. A September 1967 article in the Lodi News-Sentinel titled “San Francisco’s Newest Industry: Hippie Underground Newspapers” compared the two papers with a healthy dose of disdain:
[Image Caption:  Newspaper hawker selling issues of The Berkeley Barb and The San Francisco Oracle on the corner of Haight and Ashbury, 1967 / © Larry Keenan.]

“The new San Francisco periodicals are radically different from other underground papers such as the nearby older Berkeley Barb. The Barb is the special favorite of bitter left-wing activists given to sit-in demonstrations and other protests against the Vietnam War. Flower children, being more interested in love and ‘doing your thing,’ think the best place for a sit-in is beside the pools of Golden Gate Park. Thus, many Barb readers regard hippies as proselytizers for political apathy...While the Barb is editorially indignant, the Oracle is poetic, ecstatic and mystical...Its bearded editor, Allen Cohen, says the Oracle is ‘the artists’ vision of the present and the future. The commercial press has restricted the idea of what is news...news today is a state of mind.”

Regardless of which camp they fell into, underground newspapers inevitably caught the attention of the United States Government, and 1967 was a brutal year for those in the business of counterculture news. In a move that foreshadowed the Nixon Administration’s Interagency Committee on Intelligence, the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and the National Security Agency (NSA) combined forces to enlarge a program aimed at finding “foreign influences” on domestic unrest in 1967. The Armed Forces intelligence program was also expanded to include civil disorder, and military personnel began spying on civilians as enemies of the state. Even the Internal Revenue Service (IRS) was used as a surveillance tool, jumping into the fray by investigating Ramparts financials after the magazine connected the CIA to the National Student  Association. The Detroit Artists’ Workshop Press was raided by local, state and federal narcotics officers, as well as U.S. Customs agents, and 56 members were arrested including John Sinclair, who was sentenced to ten years in jail for having two-joints worth of marijuana in his possession--the longest term ever given for that type of offense in Michigan. The list could go on and on. This type of government intervention and the consistent strain of legal fees proved to be a death knell for many publications, even while this attention simultaneously justified their work. The 1960s may have been a golden era for underground journalism, but the radical enlargement of domestic surveillance in the 1970s soon saw to its demise.


Oracle #12, the last issue published in February of 1968/ Courtesy of AllenCohen.us
For its part, The Oracle never saw the light of 1970; publication ceased in 1968, and Allen Cohen moved to a commune near Mendocino where he lived in a teepee. In 1970, Cohen co-wrote a poetic, photographic account of the natural birth of his son, River, titled Childbirth is Ecstasy. He returned to San Francisco in 1975 and worked at the Schlock Shop on Grant Ave., wrote poetry, and compiled a collector’s edition of The Oracle which can be referenced in the California Historical Society’s collection (or purchased on Ebay for anywhere from $400 to $1,900). In later years he gave lectures on the 1960s scene in San Francisco, performed poetry readings, organized digital be-ins, and worked with local kids as a public school teacher and operator of a daycare center, which he ran with his wife.
Allen Cohen with Oracle prints / Courtesy of AllenCohen.us


Allen Cohen died at his Walnut Creek home in 2004, but the ethos of his publication and his generation continues to reverberate within contemporary culture. The popularity of newspapers like Cohen’s Oracle was not only due to trippy visuals, edgy articles, and geographic spread. Publications like The Oracle encouraged relationships between readers, staff and publishers that broke the third wall of traditional journalism. Staff were generally volunteers, not unlike the intern army found in many offices today, and articles advocated for change or expressed authors’ opinions rather than presenting unbiased facts; this dynamic challenged the static one-way transmission of information by making the creation and digestion of news communal. The “new journalism,” as it would later be called, significantly increased the political power of hippies and directly influenced the way in which 21st-century consumers prefer to generate and absorb content. Modern blogs and zines (even Twitter and Facebook), with their DIY emphases and reliance on user-synthesized news, directly track back to the underground press of the 1960s.


On this, the 50th anniversary of Oracle #1, let us remember that the work of Allen Cohen and his brethren is not done. “Our dream of peace, love and community never died,” Cohen said. “We, as human beings, yearn for the dream of the Sixties, and despite many disappointments and failures, our dream...will live on forever.” So dream on, Californians, and do what you can to make your own personal rainbow newspaper a reality.

By Nicole Meldahl


Sources not hyperlinked in text:

September 30, 1962: The National Farm Workers Association Is Founded

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California Grape Pickers Strike on Historic March from Delano to Sacramento, 1969

California Historical Society

 

On this day, fifty-four years ago, activists/labor leaders César Chávez and Dolores Huerta cofounded the National Farm Workers Association. Defending unemployed, exploited, and discriminated workers, they organized strikes, boycotts, marches, and rallies—all nonviolent protests demanding improved pay, treatment, and working conditions for farmworkers.

 

In 1966 the NFWA teamed up with Filipino farmworkers of the Agricultural Workers Organizing Committee and established the United Farm Workers Organizing Committee. In 1972, the committee was accepted into the AFL-CIO and was renamed the United Farmworkers Union.

Today, during National Hispanic Heritage Month (September 15–October 15), we honor the men and women who brought national attention to the plight of Hispanic agricultural workers, the issue of social and economic justice, and the cause of Latino American civil rights in our state.



César Chávez (1927–1993)

Courtesy Farmworker Movement Documentation Project, University of California, San Diego

 

Dolores Huerta (b. 1930)
Courtesy John Kouns, Farmworker Movement Documentation Project

Pickets during the Grape and Lettuce Strike, c. 1970s

Courtesy Walter P. Reuther Library

 

Striking Grape Pickers Marching from Delano to Sacramento, 1969
California Historical Society 

Chávez Walking with Union Members outside a Safeway Market, date unknown
Courtesy Los Angeles Public Library, Herald-Examiner Collection



United Farmworkers/AFL-CIO Support at a Farmworkers Initiative Proposition 14 Rally, 1976

Courtesy Special Collections & Archives, UC San Diego

 

Shelly Kale

Publications and Strategic Projects Manager

skale@calhist.org

 

 


For more about National Hispanic Heritage Month, see http://www.hispanicheritagemonth.org/

 

End of an Era: A California Daughter on Vin Scully

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Vin Scully at Dodgers Stadium / Courtesy of ESPN.

If baseball is America’s national pastime, then veteran Dodgers announcer Vin Scully is the American Dream personified. He is so iconic that even the musician Ray Charles asked Bob Costas to introduce him to Scully after an interview in 1994. Today we will say goodbye to an internationally recognized sports broadcaster who feels like our kindly nextdoor neighbor. Fittingly, this last long goodbye will end during a Giants-Dodgers series just to prove that History often writes itself. The litany of tribute articles have been unanimously reverential, regaling us with the staggering career statistics of a living legend; more often than not, they’ve focused on authors’ personal stories because historic moments inspire remembrance, especially when we’re aware of their import in real-time. To this canon of compliments I’d like throw my own personal story into the mix, and thank you in advance for allowing a daughter the indulgence of remembering her father and the broadcaster that connected them. 

My Dad as a scrappy Pony League standout around age 14 in Arcadia, California c. 1963. / Courtesy of Nicole Meldahl
Baseball was a given in my house as a kid. My Dad, Bob Meldahl, was a local Pony League legend, and old-timers would often recount me with tales of his glory...as well as stories of his misspent youth; my father was a lovable rascal. He tried to carry that talent to the next level, and briefly played baseball at Pasadena City College (just like Dodgers great Jackie Robinson) before he was forced to unenroll due to residential zoning restrictions. Like many before him, my Dad put aside his sandlot dreams to build an adult life, and he did alright for himself: eventually becoming a notable jockey’s agent, representing Laffit Pincay, Jr., and buying a classic Southern California ranch home where he watched his family thrive. 
My childhood cat, BJ, using Dad’s hat as a headrest (much to his chagrin). / Courtesy of Jan Meldahl.
Through it all my Dad bled Dodgers Blue, even while my Mom and I pledged allegiances to the Anaheim Angels and the Atlanta Braves because of teenage crushes on Mickey Mantle and Chipper Jones, respectively. Much of my childhood was spent watching The Dodgers on KTLA or at Dodgers Stadium where my Dad seemed to know everyone because old-school Dodgers fans and stadium employees also played the ponies at Santa Anita Racetrack. When Dad got sick in 2009, we watched The Dodgers from his hospital bed as a family--my Mom, my Dad and me focused on the pitch count, thinking of the pennant race, and wishing for better times. Then, when we lost him in October of 2010, we placed a crisp new Dodgers baseball cap in his casket; ashes to ashes, dust to dust, my father was a Dodgers fan from the cradle to the grave.

The last time I set foot in Dodgers Stadium was with my Dad, but I didn’t stop listening to Dodgers broadcasts even after I did the Dodgerstown unthinkable and defected to San Francisco. Vin Scully was not only a touchstone of my childhood, he was a constant presence for my Dad’s entire life. Think about that: my Dad, a lifelong Dodgers fan born in 1949, never heard a Dodgers game that was not called by Vin Scully. A living link to the golden era of baseball, Vin Scully has been present for 87 of 94 World Series broadcasts, and has been a broadcasting participant in 22 of them. Managers moved on, owners gave up the ghost, and players peaked to become footnotes while one man sat in the Dodgers announcer’s booth (now named in his honor) for six decades. They just don’t make ‘em like Vin Scully anymore, nor do they make ‘em like my Dad.

Vin Scully, c. 1934. / Courtesy of Reddit user TheBrimic.
Vincent Edward Scully was born in the Bronx in November of 1927 to Irish immigrants Bridget “Bridie” (Freehill) Scully and Vincent Aloysius Scully. The Scully family lived in Washington Heights, and would take long walks on the Fordham Prep School campus Bridie dreamed her son could one-day attend. After her husband died of pneumonia in 1932, a grief-stricken Bridie took young Vin home to Ireland where she recovered amongst family. The pair returned to the United States, and Bridie married an English sailor named Allan Reeve who became a father-figure to Scully. To this happy family was born a daughter, Margaret, and just like that Scully became an older brother. He often recounts how he would crawl under the family’s radio with a plate of saltine crackers and a glass of milk to listen to college football broadcasts. With this in mind, he was certain of his answer to a school assignment asking students what they wanted to be when they grew older: Vin Scully was going to be a broadcaster.

During big moments in a game he listened to at home with his family, he would close his eyes and let the sound and resultant goosebumps wash over him. The effect that radio had on Scully cannot be underemphasized. NBC and CBS, networks with which Scully would later contract, were incorporated in 1926 and 1927, and the Radio Act of 1927 laid the foundations for the Federal Communications Commission (FCC). Modern broadcasting as a federally regulated service began the year Vin Scully was born. When put into this context, you can see how incredulous a parochial school boy’s desire to become a broadcaster really was. His ability to paint what he sees on the field and his penchant for dramatic pauses, essentially the things that make him an unrivaled announcer to this day, can be attributed to his origins in and love of radio.
Vin Scully with his Fordham baseball team, 1944. / Courtesy of Vin Scully.

At Fordham Preparatory School in 1940 and later at Fordham University in 1944, Scully played center field for the school’s baseball team, the Rams, but he really excelled off the field. He sang with a barbershop quartet called the Shaving Mugs, studied elocution, and performed in plays--learning the intricacies of public speaking and entertainment. Most importantly, he covered sports for the Prep’s newsletter, the Rampart, and stepped into broadcasting at WFUV, Fordham’s radio station. After graduation, he began applying to smaller-wattage radio stations in the area. He eventually found work as a summer substitute at WTOP in Washington, D.C., and was able to meet Red Barber, voice of the Brooklyn Dodgers, through CBS news director Ted Church. When CBS was short an announcer for College Football Roundup that Fall, Barber brought in Scully to call the Boston University-Maryland football game at Fenway Park. Scully nearly froze calling that game because he failed to bring an overcoat, thinking he’d be inside the booth, but his dedication paid off--he was sent to cover the Harvard-Yale game the following week.
Red Barber, Connie Desmond, and Vin Scully. / Courtesy of DodgersInsider.

When Ernie Harwell left the Brooklyn Dodgers broadcast team, Scully filled his seat alongside Red Barber and Connie Desmond in 1950--ironic for a self-professed New York Giants fan who came of age at the Polo Fields. He began calling himself Vin instead of Vince (because “Vince Scully” sounded too lispy), and learned from Barber’s folksy Mississippi style. Barber also taught him not to imitate other broadcasters, to find his own voice, and to keep his distance from the players in order to maintain his objectivity. By 1954, Barber had left and Desmond’s drinking had become problematic so Scully and Jerry Doggett were made primary announcers for the Brooklyn Dodgers.The next year he became the youngest person to broadcast a World Series game, calling the Dodgers’ first and only championship at Ebbets Field in Brooklyn in 1955. 

Vin Scully and Jerry Doggett, 1965 / Courtesy of the Los Angeles Dodgers via The New York Times.
His career in Brooklyn was taking off, but Scully’s time in New York was about to come to an end. In 1956, Dodgers owner Walter O’Malley was frustrated by stalled negotiations with the City of Brooklyn over the construction of a new stadium. When the City of Los Angeles offered O’Malley land for purchase in the Chavez Ravine, as well as complete control over the stadium’s revenue, he decided to move his team to California. O’Malley also convinced New York Giants owner Horace Stoneham to move his team to the west coast, thus keeping intact a lucrative rivalry with roots in the 19th-century. Both teams went west after the 1957 season, much to the delight of Californians north and south, but the Dodgers’ stadium was still under construction so the team opened the 1958 season against the newly relocated San Francisco Giants in the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum. Built for the 1932 Olympics, the Coliseum was a giant stadium not well-suited to watching baseball, but it became a boost to Scully’s popularity. 
1959 World Series at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum. / Courtesy of Wikipedia.
Vin Scully was determined to connect with his new base of Los Angeles listeners. He worked hard to highlight “rank and file” players, not just the superstars, by reading media guides, newspapers (local and from opponents’ hometowns), and magazines to find engaging stories--a process he calls “searching for seashells.” He has done this throughout his entire career, filing this information away in cabinets and using it to seed his conversational style. Luckily, the development of portable transistor radios enabled fans to bring Scully with them to the ballpark, and his narrative of the action compensated for their distance from the field of play. The same technology allowed Los Angeles residents to listen to Dodgers games in their backyards, at the beach, and in the car. Scully worked hard to craft content, and that content was disseminated not through television, which O’Malley was still hesitant to adopt, but through a cheaper, far more accessible, means of transmission. Once again, advancements in radio technology were perfectly timed to further Vin Scully’s career. 
Aerial view of Dodgers Stadium in the Chavez Ravine (detail), 1962. / California Historical Society at USC Special Collections.

And what a career it’s turned out to be. Since it opened in 1962, Vin Scully has been calling games in Dodgers Stadium, now the third-oldest in Major League Baseball. Danny Kaye immortalized him and the team’s rivalry with the Giants in song with “D.O.D.G.E.R.S.” that same year. He was earning more than most of the team’s players, and for good reason, by 1964. Scully is meticulous, a fact visible in his attire and seen in the phalanx of source materials at his desk in the announcer’s booth. Typically at his disposal are two media guides, home and away, stuffed with index cards filled with personally prepared notes. He has a blue pen to make corrections, a red pen for pitching changes, and a yellow highlighter for come-what-may. His pockets are filled with Jolly Rancher candies in case his throat gets dry, because liquids are a broadcaster’s worst enemy; baseball does not pause for bathroom breaks. Over the years, he’s developed a signature style now emulated in announcer’s booths around the world. He approaches announcing like a casual conversation, and treats listeners not like fanatics, or fans, but like his friends. 

“My idea is that I’m sitting next to the listener in the ballpark, and we’re just watching the game,” Scully said. “Sometimes, our conversation leaves the game. It might be a little bit about the weather we’re enduring or enjoying. It might be personal relationships which would involve a player. The game is just one long conversation and I’m anticipating that, and I will say things like ‘Did you know that?’ or ‘You’re probably wondering why.’ I’m really just conversing rather than just doing play-by-play.”

Kirk Gibson at the plate on that fateful 1988 World Series at-bat. / Courtesy of Yahoo Sports.
That personal style has narrated some of baseball’s most memorable moments, making them more iconic in the process. Perfect games by Don Larsen at Yankee Stadium in the 1956 World Series, and by Sandy Koufax against the Chicago Cubs in the 1965 World Series; Hank Aaron’s 715th career home run to surpass Babe Ruth’s record in 1974; Fernando Valenzuela’s no-hitter in 1990; Barry Bonds’ record-shattering home runs in 2001. If you ask him, Scully will tell you his trademark is knowing when to “shut up” and let the moment happen. The moment I remember most vividly was when I was only four-years-old, but when my Dad was a prime 39. It was Game 1 of the 1988 World Series at Dodgers Stadium. The Dodgers were playing the Oakland A’s, who were leading 4-3 when Kirk Gibson limped off the bench to pinch-hit with two outs in the 9th inning. After multiple foul balls, the count goes to three-and-two...and then a crack of the bat. “High fly ball into right field, she is gone,” Scully says before the mic goes silent for more than a minute. During this silence, Gibson hobbles round the bases, pumping his arm in exhausted ecstasy, and is swarmed by his teammates. Scully returns to say: “In a year that has been so improbable, the impossible has happened.” Obviously I was too young to actually remember that moment, but, growing up in Dodgerstown, I saw it replayed ad infinitum. Now, without listening to the audio, I can instinctively hear Scully’s inflections on “she is gone” because that moment doesn’t exist without his poignant, tenor commentary. I can also see my Dad pumping his arm like Kirk Gibson as he so often did when savoring a personal victory. This kind of flagrant celebration drove us all nuts, but, in hindsight, it was just my Dad identifying as an injured pinch-hitter making a clutch play against all odds. That’s the beauty of Vin Scully’s baseball: he enables us to see ourselves in the players, and identify with outcomes on the field.

When Kirk Gibson launched that home run into the bleachers, it descended into Dodgers lore and brought Vin Scully along for the ride. He’s so synonymous with baseball because of moments like these that it’s hard to envision him outside the Dodgers announcer’s booth, but his career was not limited to one sport. From 1969-1970, he hosted a game show called It Takes Two, as well as a short-lived weekend afternoon variety show, appropriately called The Vin Scully Show, in 1973. He called play-by-play for NFL games and PGA Tour events for CBS from 1975-1982. I was surprised to learn that Vin Scully does not watch baseball games that he does not call, because he simply has too many other interests, like literature and Broadway musicals. Although still within the realm of baseball, he called World Series’ and All-Star Games, appeared in Kevin Costner’s For the Love of the Game, and provided voiceovers for a Playstation MLB game. 
The iconic broadcaster as host of The Vin Scully Show, 1973. / Courtesy of CBS Photo Archive.
Vin Scully is beloved personally and professionally because of his work ethic, his moral compass, and his humility in addition to what he believes is his God-given talent. He has an impressive list of awards to his credit, and California has rightfully recognized him as one of its own. He has been named California Sportscaster of the Year over 20 times. In 2008, he was inducted into the California Sports Hall of Fame, and, that same year, a bronze plaque was installed by the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum Commission in Memorial Court which reads: “The games are ephemeral, the scores are forgotten, the players come and go, but the emotions endure, and the contributions of Vincent Edward Scully to Los Angeles will last forever.” This year, Dodgers Stadium’s main entrance street was renamed Vin Scully Avenue from Elysian Park Avenue so that future generations will always associate him with the Chavez Ravine, even if his voice no longer echoes within it. Despite these accolades, Scully has remained remarkably humble; he said: “All my career, all I have ever really done, all I ever have accomplished, is to talk about the accomplishments of others. We can’t all be heroes. Somebody has to stand on the curb and applaud as the parade goes by.”
My Dad’s last Dodgers cap, which now hangs in the entryway of my apartment. / Courtesy of Nicole Meldahl.
I came of age under the distant but watchful eye of Vin Scully, as did the generation before me. Dependable commonalities like Dodgers dogs and Scully’s soothing tenor voice help unite us during times of economic uncertainty, political polarity, and worldwide humanitarian crises. California might be a vast expanse of competing cultures, but Vin Scully is a piece of California history everyone can agree on--even Giants fans; he is the tie that binds. It’s truly hard to imagine baseball without him, and I’d bet it’s hard for Scully to imagine himself without baseball. My Dad fills the room every time I hear Vin Scully call a baseball game; I treasure him for that, because that feeling is fleeting, it’s precious. The further we get from my Dad’s life the less lifelike he becomes, but tangible connections to the time we had with him, like Scully, stay the unending process of grief...even if it’s only for nine innings. Similarly, the job that Scully has executed to perfection for so long helped him through the tragic deaths of his first wife and his son. At his first game back following the dismal 1994-1995 strike season, Scully said: “After being away, I’ve come to the realization that I need you more than you need me.” With all do respect, Mr. Scully, you’re wrong; the truth is we’ve needed each other equally all these years. Thank you for allowing us to pull up a chair.
Vin Scully at in his announcer’s booth at Dodgers Stadium, September 25, 2016. / Photo by Chris Carlson, AP via El Paso Times.
Vin Scully’s final call will happen today at 12:05 PST. KNBR and CSN Bay Area will air his broadcast of the 3rd inning so Giants fans can be distant witnesses to history. Otherwise, Dodgers friends in Los Angeles can watch the broadcast on KTLA or listen on AM 570. Those of us outside the region can listen through iHeartRadio or something similar. 




By Nicole Meldahl

Sources not hyperlinked in text:



¡Murales Rebeldes!: Contested Chicana/o Public Art

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Remains of the East Los Streetscapers’ mural Filling Up on Ancient Energies (1981), and the wall on which it was painted, clutter 4th and Soto Streets in Boyle Heights, Los Angeles, on May 24, 1988. The mural was destroyed without notifying the artists.
In March, the J. Paul Getty Foundation awarded a grant to the California Historical Society in partnership with LA Plaza de Cultura y Artes of Los Angeles for an exhibition that will be part of “Pacific Standard Time: LA/LA.” This Getty initiative brings together over 40 museums and cultural institutions across Southern California. Through a series of exhibitions, publications, and programs, participating organizations will realize the goals of the project: to create a dialogue between Latin American and Latino art and Los Angeles.

In September 2017, CHS and LA Plaza will present ¡Murales Rebeldes!: Contested Chicana/o Public Art. The exhibition and companion publicationwill look at the ways in which Chicana/o murals in the greater Los Angeles area have been contested, challenged, censored, and even destroyed.

Why ¡Murales Rebeldes!: Contested Chicana/o Public Art?

Chicana/o murals often have been sites of controversy. The ways in which their creators provoke the dominant cultural norm and challenge the assumed historic narrative have often resulted in the desecration, whitewashing, or destruction of these works of art. Outright neglect and mistreatment of murals, as well as dismissal of their artistic and historical value, also threaten the survival of these works.

The exhibition will explore murals by Barbara Carrasco, Yriena Cervántez, Roberto Chávez, Ernesto de la Loza, East Los Streetscapers, Willie Herrón, and Sergio O’Cadiz. In this exhibition in the historic heart of Los Angeles, LA Plaza and CHS will examine the iconography, content, and artistic strategies of these key Los Angeles area Chicana/o murals that have made others uncomfortable to the point of provoking a contrary response. The exhibition will delve into the murals’ complicated creation and subsequent disturbing history of censorship. Through photography of the murals, preparatory sketches, related art works, and ephemera, the exhibition will tell the story of the mural from its genesis to its end.

A heavily illustrated companion publication of the same title—also released in September 2017 and published by Los Angeles publisher Angel City Press—will expand on the murals’ themes and controversies. With a foreword and afterword by Gustavo Arellano, publisher and editor of Orange County Weekly, and photographs by noted photographic journalist Oscar Castillo—many of them commissioned especially for this publication—the book will reach beyond a traditional exhibition catalogue to portray these murals as what co-curator Guiesela Latorre describes as “public platforms to protest against the injustices of institutionalized racism, including police brutality, educational inequality, inferior working conditions, and persisting colonial legacies.”

Barbara Carrasco’s massive L.A. History: A Mexican Perspective (1981) never made it to its designated location at 330 South Broadway in downtown Los Angeles due to its honest portrayal of Los Angeles’s history. Today it is in storage but will be brought to light again in the exhibition.

An investment company in Miami, Florida, could determine the fate of Willie Herrón’s The Wall That Cracked Open (1972). Painted in response to the violent stabbing of Herron’s brother in an alleyway, the mural has been conserved and cared for over the years by the artist himself.

Less than five years after its completion, Roberto Chávez’s The Path to Knowledge and the False University (1974–75) was completely obliterated by the college administration that had originally commissioned it.

Yreina Cervántez and Alma Lopez’s Huntington Beach mural Historia de Adentro/La Historia de Afuera, The History from Within/The History from Without (1995) was destroyed after years of graffiti and eventually painted out completely.

Sergio O’Cadiz’s mural (1975) was starved of resources after Fountain Valley officials who had commissioned it saw a panel showing police mistreating a Chicano youth. The mural was neglected, left to decay, and finally bulldozed by the city.


The complete disappearance of El Nuevo Mundo: Homage to the Workers (1997) (above) in Echo Park and the ongoing corrosion of his best known work, Resurrection of the Green Planet (1990–91) (below) in Boyle Heights tell the distinct yet interrelated stories of a disappeared and a disappearing mural, both embodying the death and near death of Chicana/o muralism.

¡Murales Rebeldes!: Contested Chicana/o Public Artopens on September 4, 2017, and will be on view through January 29, 2018, at LA Plaza de Cultura y Artes in downtown Los Angeles.

Stay tuned for updates on this exciting project!

Jessica Hough
Director of Exhibitions
jhough@calhist.org

New River, Los Angeles

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H. B. Wesner, Untitled [New River, Los Angeles], c. 1890,California Historical Society, CHS2016_2069
By Shelly Kale
In the late nineteenth century, San Bernardino-based Henry B. Wesner (1853–1932) photographed the effects of floods in the region. This image in his “Views of Southern California Scenery” series shows severed telegraph wires, felled steel beams, floating vegetation, and flooded railroad tracks—evidence of the destruction caused by flash floods common to the Los Angeles area during this period.1
Wesner’s image captures the dynamic quality of a river during flash floods. His eye-level perspective suggests the river’s momentum as it accommodates new waters in a seemingly peaceful wave.2
Photographs of floods would naturally have interested California’s first state engineer William Hammond Hall (1846–1934), who added this image to his collection, which was subsequently donated to the California Historical Society in 1951.3
Upon his appointment as state engineer in 1878, Hall began a systematic and far-reaching study of the state’s use of water and complex natural water systems. In 1880, he created the first integrated, comprehensive flood control plan for the Sacramento Valley.
Throughout his tenure, which ended in 1889,Hall attempted to revise California’s antiquated water laws and design a comprehensive water system. As Kevin Starr observes, Hall’s “envisionings” were an outgrowth of his work designing San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park (1871–76), through which he imagined “California as irrigated parkland ready for productive use.”4
While we don’t know Hall’s specific connection with Wesner’s photograph, his collection at the California Historical Society includes records of irrigation projects in southern California. These arethe basis for his 1888 account of the irrigation works in Los Angeles, San Bernardino, and San Diego counties, Irrigation in California (Southern), which included a description of Los Angeles County’s “New River” and “Old River.”5
The nomenclature refers to the effects of heavy rains in 1867–68 on the San Gabriel River—a tributary to the Los Angeles River from 1825 to 1867. As explained in a 2007 historical ecology study, the storms caused“the most violent and dramatic change in the river since Europeans had begun to occupy southern California; a break in the a logjam in the canyon above Whittier Narrows sent a rush of water with such velocity that it changed the course of the river.” 6During these storms, in which nearly fifty inches of rain fell over a thirty- to forty-day period, most of the flow migrated east and was called the “New River.”
Between 1884 and 1912, the New River changed course several times. Wesner’s photograph was likely taken during this period. In late December 1889, flash floods caused by regional storms caused several railroad tracks and bridges to wash away, including “a broken bridge over the New river.”7
Flood control was one of Hall’s key proposals to the state, along with the establishment of irrigation districts and regulation of the state’s water supply. However, Hall was ultimately unsuccessful in convincing the legislature to bring about these goals, and the state abandoned its water planning efforts in 1893. “Had the legislature accepted Hall’s proposals,” notes historian Donald Pisani, “California would have enjoyed the most advanced code of water laws in the arid West.”8
As Kevin Starr reflects, “A complex man . . . neither a pure public servant nor a pure entrepreneur, William Hammond Hall nevertheless achieved the first consistent act of foundational thinking regarding the future California might have through water. In this act of water prophecy, Hall made an enduring contribution.”9

NOTES
The author thanks Richard D. Thompson and Alison Moore of the California Historical Society for their help with sources and astute observations.
1.     According to a flood table prepared by the United States Weather Bureau, forty-one floods occurred in the Los Angeles vicinity from 1878 to 1914; H. D. McGlashan and F. C. Ebert, Southern California Floods of January, 1916 (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office), 40.
2.     According to the January 1982 San Bernardino Courier, “Mr. Wesner has one of the finest photo studios in southern California” (reproduced in Richard D. Thompson, Library News June 2013, City of San Bernardino Historical and Pioneer Society). A partner with his brother Michael in Wesner Brothers Imperial Photographic Parlor, established in 1884, the adventurous Wesner also traveled throughout the region in the Wesner Brothers Photographic Car, established in 1880 (Carl Mautz, Biographies of Western Photographers: A Reference Guide to Photographers Working in the 19th Century American West[Nevada City, CA: Carl Mautz Publishing, 1997)], 153).In 1893, for example, he roamed the county in search of “all the most interesting objects” for an album to be displayed at the California Midwinter International Exposition of 1894 (“News of the Studio,” Pacific Coast Photographer 2, no. 9 [October 1893], 406). Eight feet high and 4 feet square, the album was commissioned in recognition of “the value of photography as a means of conveying knowledge of view scenery” (“California Photography: It Renders Quite a Service to the State at the World’s Fair,” Pacific Coast Photographer 2, no. 1 [February 1893], 406). According to local newspapers, by April 1896 Wesner had “grown weary of photography business” (San Bernardino Daily Sun, April 23, 1896), closed his studio (San Bernardino Daily Sun, May 16, 1896), and left for Appleton, Illinois (San Bernardino Daily Sun, June 2, 1896). On a return trip to San Bernardino in the spring of 1920, he noted the changes that occurred in San Bernardino from the perspective of his new and prosperous life as a Midwestern farmer: “The changes that have come in San Bernardino since I was here indicate that we have not had all the prosperity in Illinois” (San Bernardino Daily Sun, April 12, 1920).
3.     William Hammond Hall Papers, 1878–1914, MSS 913, 914, 915 [hereafter cited as Hall Papers], California Historical Society, San Francisco.
4.     For an account of Hall’s career, see Donald J. Pisani, From the Family Farm to Agribusiness: The Irrigation Crusade in California and the West, 1850–1931 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984), 154–190. Kevin Starr, Material Dreams: Southern California Through the 1920s (New York/Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990), 8.
5.     Irrigation in Southern California, c. 1888, box 4, folder 35, and Irrigation Projects in Southern CA, no date (L.A., San Diego, San Bernardino), box 4, folder 37, Hall Papers. William Hammond Hall, Irrigation in California (Southern): The Field, Water-supply, and Works, Organization and Operation in San Diego, San Bernardino, and Los Angeles Counties: The Second Part of the Report of the State Engineer of California on Irrigation and the Irrigation Question (Sacramento, CA: State Office, 1888), 575601.
6.     Eric D. Stein et al., Historical Ecology and Landscape Change of the San Gabriel River and Floodplain (Southern California Coastal Research Project Technical Report #499, February 2007), 13, 47. The authors quote a 1915 interview that describes a first-person account of the flood, including this episode: “He [Henry Roberts] found a dead grizzly bear out in the center of the pile of logs after he had been hauling logs from the pile quite awhile. The skeleton of the bear and hide was all there, and he said it looked as if it had been caught in the flood, and tried to save himself by riding the drift wood.” (p. 13).
7.     Stein et al., Historical Ecology, 47. “Storm Effects: Several Railroad Bridges Washed Away,” Los Angeles Herald, December 26, 1889.
8.     Pisani, From the Family Farm to Agribusiness, 178, 185.
9.     Starr, Material Dreams, 13.
Shelly Kale is Publications and Strategic Projects Manager at the California Historical Society. Formerly Managing Editor of California History from 2007 to 2013, she has held editorial and administrative positions in academic, museum, educational, electronic, and trade and mass-market publishing.
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This article originally appeared in Spotlight, a feature of the California History journal (Vol. 93, #1), published by the University of California Press in association with the California Historical Society. Conceived by former journal editor and historian Janet Fireman as a last-page photographic feature that itself would evoke a lasting image for journal’s readers, Spotlight draws from CHS’s vast and diverse collection of California photography and photographic history.
California History, Vol. 93, Number 1, pp. 64–66, ISSN 0162-2897, electronic ISSN 2327-1485. ©2016 by the Regents of the University of California. All rights reserved.
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To learn more about H. B. Wesner, read a biographical essay by Richard D. Thompson: http://californiahistoricalsociety.blogspot.com/2016/02/henry-beecher-wesner-18531932-san.html

Hungry for Communication: The Love Pageant Rally & Michael Bowen

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The Grateful Dead playing at the Love Pageant Rally - Photo by Susan Elting Hillyard*

The Summer of Love, known for the nearly 100,000 young people who converged on the Haight Ashbury neighborhood of San Francisco in the Spring and Summer of 1967 may have actually started 50 years ago today on October 6, 1966. As many of the original Haight-Ashbury hippies like to claim, the Summer of Love was the Fall of 1966. And the Love Pageant rally was a major reason why.
On this day half a century ago, somewhere between 1,000 and 3,000 (estimates continue to vary!) young people swarmed into the Panhandle of Golden Gate Park two blocks North of Haight Street for the “Love Pageant Rally.” The crowds were encouraged to gather in the Panhandle that day by the leaders of the new San Francisco Oracle newspaper to mark the day that the State of California made LSD illegal. The event was a seminal moment for the hippie counterculture that was growing in the neighborhood and directly led to the massive and transformative Human Be-In that took place in Golden Gate Park three months later.
The date (10/6/66) was deliberately chosen as the “666” in the date was meant to conjure the number of the beast in the Book of Revelation. Instead of a standard protest, however, the editors of the Oracle, wanted a ‘celebration of innocence, beauty of the universe…beauty of being.”
The larger-than-expected crowd who attended that day listened to free music provided by the Grateful Dead (see image above) and Big Brother and the Holding Company featuring Janis Joplin (recently brought back to San Francisco by her friend Chet Helms, see image below). Ken Kesey attended the event along with the Merry Pranksters and their famous colorful. “Furthur Bus.” (See video below). The celebration, at the time, was almost certainly the largest free outdoor rock concert in history.
Towards the end of the event, one of the Love Pageant Rally organizers, Beat era poet Michael Bowen, made a chance remark about the power of human beings. That remark soon became a call for “The Human Be-In” that took place in Golden Gate Park a few months later on January 14, 1967. That event,  which drew some 30,000 people to the park's Polo Grounds, and the media’s coverage of it, is widely recognized with creating the nationwide interest in converging on San Francisco in the months to come, thus creating the Summer of Love during the Spring and Summer of 1967.

The Grateful Dead playing at the Love Pageant Rally, with Chet Helms looking on. Photo by Susan Elting Hillyard*

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Read more below about Michael Bowen and the Love Pageant Rally

Watch. This. Video (from the Center for Home Movies)! Anything look familiar? The 1960s resonate with contemporary students of history because the time is imminently relatable. It’s highly likely that you will walk by hip kids in San Francisco (or other cities) dressed similarly if not identically to those in the video you (hopefully) just watched. Like those immortalized in celluloid above, American Millennials are also engaged in meaning-making that differs from the previous generation; we’ve inherited less than we’ve been promised, and we’re making due with what we have. Our politicians feel feckless, our soldiers are overseas, and we’re left at home making sense of it all. So we rely on each other within a sharing economy, we socialize in new forums fueled by innovative technologies, and we read blogs that proliferate from the will of the people.


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Cohen and Bowen’s San Francisco Oracle / Courtesy of Beat Books


Those blogs owe their existence in part to Allen Cohen’s rainbow dream, the San Francisco Oracle. Cohen’s counterculture commentary motivated many in the 1960s to 'tune in, turn on, and drop out,' but Michael Bowen supplied the radical aesthetics that made the San Francisco Oracle an unrivaled Bay Area leader. Cohen, a native New Yorker, claimed California as his home, but Bowen belonged to the world despite his Beverly Hills birthright. There would have been no Love Pageant Rally without Michael Bowen, and without the Love Pageant there many never have been a Summer of Love and The Oracle would have been much less stimulating.  


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Roberto Ayala and Michael Bowen in front of Caffe Trieste in North Beach. / Courtesy of Princeton By The Sea Memories

Michael Bowen was born on December 8, 1937 to society dentist Sterling Bowen and his wife, Grace. His grandmother, Alma Porter, introduced Bowen to metaphysics and modern art as a practicing member of the Theosophical Society in Ojai, California. His mother’s alleged lover, Benjamin (Bugsy) Siegel introduced him to the Vegas Strip and the Sir Francis Drake Hotel in San Francisco. He attended Chouinard Art School and studied with Los Angeles artist Ed Kienholz, working alongside notable artists such as John Altoon at the Ferus and Now Galleries. He moved to San Francisco in the late 1950s, and joined the west coast contingent of the Beat Generation. Living and working from 72 Commercial Street, he befriended a Norwegian physician and arts patron named Reidar Wennesland who heavily collected Bowen’s work in addition to that of his friends; as a result, the North Beach art scene is now very well-represented in the Wennesland Foundation Collection in Kristiansand, Norway.


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Love, 1965 by Michael Bowen / Courtesy of Percepticon, San Francisco


Bowen left San Francisco in 1963 and moved into an old Abalone Factory in Princeton-by-the-Sea with a coterie of artists. After many months of painting and entertaining friends like Janis Joplin, he was deeply affected by Aztec spiritualism after traveling in Mexico, and eventually settled in New York City where he found a studio on the Lower East Side and mingled with counterculture heavy-hitters Timothy Leary, Ram Dass and Richard Alpert. He returned to San Francisco in 1966 with an impressive alternative rolodex, and opened a studio and ashram in the Haight-Ashbury district--San Francisco’s newest bohemian neighborhood. He co-founded The San Francisco Oracle with Allen Cohen, and moved the newspaper’s office into his Haight Street shop when he moved to Stinson Beach; there, he would act as host for the inaugural meeting for the Underground Press Syndicate (UPS).


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Handbill circulated at The Love Pageant / Courtesy of Rock Posters Collectibles.


The first issue of The Oracle ran “A Prophecy of a Declaration of Independence” on its back page. It read, in part:


We hold these experiences to be self-evident, that all is equal, that the creation endows us with certain unalienable rights, that among these are: the freedom of body, the pursuit of joy, and the expansion of consciousness and that to secure these rights, we the citizens of earth declare our love and compassion for all conflicting hate-carrying men and women of the world. We declare the identity of flesh and consciousness; all reason and law must respect and protect this holy identity.


Like-minded people were asked to translate these beliefs into political action by congregating in Golden Gate Park to “mark the ascension of the beast” on October 6, 1966--the date that LSD was criminalized in California.


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Janis Joplin with Big Brother and the Holding Company in Golden Gate Park for the Love Pageant Rally / Courtesy of Janis Joplin Official Site


Between 1,000 to 3,000 people came to Golden Gate Park dressed in gold, bearing instruments, and holding photos of personal saints per The Oracle’s instruction. Participants heard The Grateful Dead perform “Wheel of Fortune” for the very first time; saw a soulful young singer named Janis Joplin play with her new band, Big Brother and the Holding Company; and heard Jerry Rubin and Diggers founder Emmett Grogan speak, among other counterculture notables. Bowen’s personal connections had packed the lineup. After the Love Pageant Rally was over, the conscious masses went to the Psychedelic Shop on Haight, where everything in the store was free in true Diggers fashion, and attended after-parties at The Avalon Ballroom and The Fillmore Auditorium.


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Michael Bowen, 1967 / Courtesy of Detroit Artists Workshop


Michael Bowen stood with Allen Cohen on a Panhandle path near Oak and Clayton streets, and they reveled in their success 50 years ago today. Seeing Richard Alpert walk by, Bowen yelled “Isn’t this far out? People are sure hungry for some communicating. They love it. It’s a joyous moment. What do you think, Alpert?” He agreed, and Cohen told Bowen he should do it again. “Yeah,” Bowen replied. “But next time, I’ll bet we could get ten times the people.” Cohen then asked Alpert what they should call their next rally, and Alpert said: “It’s a hell of a gathering. It’s just being. Humans being. Being together.”


“Well,” said Bowen, “we’ll just have another rally. Only bigger. And next time we bring all the tribes together.”


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Flower Power, 1967, by Bernie Boston / Courtesy of Wikipedia


Michael Bowen wasn’t as vocal as many of his counterculture brethren, but his impact was equally as visible. Bringing the tribes together was Bowen’s natural talent, and his work as an organizer of the faithful only began with the Love Pageant Rally. His next gathering, The Human Be-In certainly was bigger and was, indeed, a gathering of the tribes...but check back here for more on that later, in the New Year. By 1967, Bowen had graduated from rallies in Golden Gate Park to anti-war marches on the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. That October, he arranged for 200 pounds of daisies to be dropped by aircraft on the Pentagon in the ultimate display of Flower Power as a protest of America’s presence in Vietnam. When that aircraft was preemptively seized by the FBI, Bowen instructed protesters to distribute them on the ground by hand. In that moment, as protesters fought guns with Gerber daisies, photojournalist Bernie Boston took what would become one of the most iconic photos of the 20th-century--transporting Bowen’s aesthetic intuitions far beyond the fields of San Francisco in the process.

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* The first two photos in this post were taken by Susan Elting Hillyard. The first features a rare image of the Grateful Dead playing at the Love Pageant Rally, with Jerry Garcia on the left. The second, never before shown publicly, shows the Dead, along with rising Avalon Ballroom rock promoter and Texas friend-of-Janis Joplin, Chet Helms, in the background. 

Hillyard remembers taking the day well. "I was having fun taking photo," she notes.! I think it was at that event that Roger (my husband) got arrested for also taking photos of the cops. He was using my camera so when they were putting him in the cop car, I went over and asked if I could have my camera back and they gave it to me, thereby losing all evidence of what he was doing and being arrested for!"

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By Nicole Meldahl

Sources not hyperlinked in text:

Modoc Ancestral Run: Celebrating Native Heritage at Lava Beds National Monument

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Ed Drew, Modoc Ancestral Run, Lava Beds National Monument, 2014 by © Ed Drew

On October 8, relay runners will wend their way through seventy-five miles of traditional Modoc territory in what is today Lava Beds National Monument. This will be the fifth annual Modoc Ancestral Run, a grassroots event designed to draw people of Modoc and Pitt River ancestry closer to their heritage and to one another. 
The run takes place on land where a small band of Modoc Indians led by a man known as Captain Jack (Kintpuash) made a six-month-long stand against U.S. Government forces through the winter of 1872–73. The Modocs had been living on a reservation in southern Oregon, but conditions there deteriorated and they returned to their homeland on the Lost River near the California-Oregon border. When federal troops attempted to push them back to the reservation, and the Modocs refused, war erupted. A group of about sixty Modoc men and their families retreated to their traditional site of refuge in the lava beds, which became the scene of a series of battles, nearly all of which the Modocs won, despite being outnumbered and out-gunned, by using the landscape to their advantage. 

Eadweard Muybridge, The Lava Beds, 1873
California Historical Society
This 1873 stereograph by Eadweard Muybridge (1830–1904) of the lava beds at Tule Lake on the California-Oregon border shows the topography that was home to a small band of Modoc Indians during the Modoc War—the only major U.S./Indian conflict in present-day California.

For contemporary Modocs, and for descendants of other tribes, the protracted confrontation in the lava beds stands today as a potent example of Indian resistance to the forces of colonization. It is also a powerful symbol of the resilience of their people. The Modoc Ancestral Run honors the bravery and fortitude of those who fought in the Modoc War, and the generations that suffered in its aftermath, but it is also speaks to the vitality of native people today. 


Louis H. Heller, Schonchin and Jack, 1873
California Historical Society
The portraits of imprisoned Modoc warriors by Louis H. Heller (1839–1928)—the first photographer to arrive at the lava beds—were originally published as engravings in Harper’s Weekly in June 1873 as engravings based on his photographs.

Participants will spend the weekend camping at nearby Indian Wells Campground. The run itself will begin Saturday at sunrise and continue through the day. For many of the participants—including tribal elders as well as young children—the weekend spent in the elements and the long relay through the unforgiving terrain of the lava beds will be arduous. This test of endurance will be a sacrifice, but one that connects participants to both the past and to one another.


(Above) Eadweard Muybridge, Gillem’s Camp, Tule Lake, Camp South, from Signal Station, 1873
California Historical Society
(Below) Gillem’s Bluff Bordering the Tule Lake Basin Today, 2013
Courtesy of National Park Service

(Below) Ed Drew, Charlene, 2014
Courtesy of the artist



Erin Garcia
Managing Curator of Exhibitions


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Read more about the Modocs and the Modoc War

Boyd Cothran, Remembering the Modoc War: Redemptive Violence and the Making of American Innocence (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2014)

Cheewa James, Modoc: The Tribe That Wouldn’t Die (Happy Camp, CA: Naturegraph Publishers, 2008)

Peter Palmquist, “Imagemakers of the Modoc War: Louis Heller and Eadweard Muybridge,” Journal of California Anthropology 4, no. 2 (1977)

Jeff C. Riddle, The Indian History of the Modoc War and the Causes That Led to It (San Francisco: Marnell & Company, 1914)
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Now on View at the California Historical Society



Two exhibitions of Native Americans bridge the past and present.http://www.californiahistoricalsociety.org/exhibitions/current_exhibitions.

Native Portraits: Contemporary Tintypes by Ed Drew features portraits of members of the Klamath, Modoc, and Pit River Paiute tribes, some of them descendants of Modoc War survivors. A selection of Modoc War images by Eadweard J. Muybridge and Louis H. Heller from the California Historical Society collection are some of the objects displayed in Sensationalist Portrayal of the Modoc War, 1872–73.



CHS Digitizes Anton Wagner’s Undiscovered Historic Photograph Collection

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West Los Angeles Farmland, February 2, 1933
[Farm on Robertson Boulevard North of Hall Road Studio Farm]
Los Angeles: 1932–33 by Anton Wagner, PC 17,
California Historical Society

When my father donated the pictures it was with the wish that they could be accessible to as many people as possible, and now they can.
—Geoff Wagner, 2016

Today the California Historical Society celebrates Digital Archives Day—established by the California State Archives—with the launch of our digital pilot platform featuring the photographic collection “Los Angeles: 1932–33 by Anton Wagner, PC 17.” A cultural geography student from Germany writing his dissertation about metropolitan Los Angeles, Wagner’s 400-plus research photographs document the city’s transformation during the early 1930s. Illustrating the period between the booms of the 1920s and post–World War II, Wagner’s images of Depression-era Los Angeles were selected for CHS’s inaugural digitization project for their innovation and historical value.


Old Chinatown, January 22, 1933
[Chinatown; Marchesault Street, East of Alameda]
Los Angeles: 1932–33 by Anton Wagner, PC 17,
California Historical Society
Unique to the CHS Collection and one of our most important and valuable twentieth-century collections, Wagner’s images have already generated enthusiasm among researchers, historians, and lovers of Los Angeles history:


·         Over the next two years, the California Historical Society, with partner organizations, will explore the relevance of Wagner’s work to the study of American metropolises today and his legacy as a pioneer urban chronicler.
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Read more about Anton Wagner on the CHS blog:



Shelly Kale
Publications and Strategic Projects Manager

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