Advertisement

L.A.’s Premier Club Began Over a Stable

Share

It began as a hangout over a livery stable, a place where business pals could break bread, cut deals and indulge their mutual fondness for Cuban cigars, hard liquor and good times.

Over the next century, the California Club--Los Angeles’ first “city” club--rose from those rough-and-tumble beginnings to become one of the city’s bastions of corporate and civic power. Its discreet--some would say fortress-like--building stands today at 6th and Flower streets, the fourth downtown site it has occupied since it was launched 111 years ago.

In the heady years of hope and expansion during the 1880s real estate boom, a handful of the city’s moneyed and influential men proposed a club, and began promoting “A Gentleman’s Club in Los Angeles--High Times Promised.” Its primary purpose was to provide a place to entertain friends and court would-be investors.

Advertisement

They invited 26 prominent residents to become founding members, among them real estate developer H. Gaylord Wilshire, banker Isaias Wolf Hellman, writer Ben Truman and the flamboyant Times city editor, Charles Fletcher Lummis. Unwilling to abide by any club’s dress code, Lummis stood out among his more soberly attired fellows with his corduroy coat and trousers, bright red waistband and gray sombrero.

Electric Bells, Speaking Tubes

After spending weeks canvassing the city for a club site, the founders opened the California Club in May 1888 in the Board of Trade building on the northwest corner of 1st Street and Broadway. The club was on the second floor, above the Tally-Ho Livery Stable.

The hushed, plutocratic decor of the always-forward-looking club had to make a place for the latest technology: electric bells and speaking tubes. Fireplaces were installed in the billiard room, parlors and dining room, with skylights of multicolored glass and a 15-foot grand entrance on Broadway.

Such luxury had its price, of course. Members ponied up $100 initially and $5 a month, plus the cost of food, drinks and extras.

Dues were payable on the first of the month, and if a member fell delinquent, his name and the amount of his debt was posted in the club’s rooms.

But as the neighborhood declined, so did the building. The roof leaked, major repairs were needed and other tenants were suing the club for damages caused by leaks.

Advertisement

Having survived the depression of the 1890s, the club decided to chance a move. In 1896, it reopened at Spring and 2nd streets, taking over the top two floors and basement of the new Wilcox building on the southeast corner. The five-story structure was L.A.’s first two-elevator building, with one for the public and a special one for club members.

Fancy new quarters brought in a steady stream of well-known and well-heeled members. In two years, membership rose from 143 to 236 and revenue from the bar tripled.

Stumbling members enjoyed overstuffed library chairs, provided as much for snoozing as for reading.

Still, standards had to be maintained. In 1904, a member found guilty of unbecoming conduct was sentenced to six months’ probation for allowing a guest to behave in a “boisterous manner.” Although the member apologized, the suspension held.

About that time, the face of Spring Street began to change, and big businesses started to move farther south and east. (Four stories would be shaved off the top of the Wilcox building in 1971.)

Tired of renting, the California Club’s board reached into its deep pockets and came up with $40,000 to purchase a lot on the northwest corner of 5th and Hill streets, then the hub of the urban transit system. Architect John Parkinson was hired and construction soon began on the five-story brownstone.

Advertisement

Memorable Tomfoolery

In 1908, amid prohibitionist fervor, Dist. Atty. Thomas Lee Woolwine raided the club and arrested its directors, including teetotaler attorney Joseph Scott, charging them with selling liquor without a license. But a judge found the club was operated for social purposes, with a very small liquor traffic, and threw out the complaint.

Harmless tomfoolery was a regular feature at the club. From their site overlooking Pershing Square, members used sugar cubes as golf tees, blasting golf balls out the windows into the park below. One time, club member Arthur Letts coerced a waiter into serving Limburger cheese in a member’s favorite bowler hat. The incensed member slugged Letts, hitting him so hard that he flew down the length of the table. At age 60, member Clair L. Peck made bets that he could walk from the third to the first floor on his hands. Wagers were heavily against him. But Peck fooled them all and walked away with $4,000.

Although the club’s location was ideal for family outings such as the theater and shopping, it provided no space for cars, by then the dominant mode of transportation.

The victory of the car over the trolley led to a battle among members over building a new clubhouse, ultimately resulting in the purchase of property at 6th and Flower streets for $1.1 million. (The clubhouse at 5th and Hill would be torn down in 1931.)

Nestled among 13-story high-rises and located in the same area as the Jonathan, Athletic and University clubs, the eight-story California Club opened in 1930.

Until the 1980s, the club had a long history of hostility toward blacks and Jews. When Mayor Tom Bradley became the city’s first black mayor in 1973, he adopted a policy of never going to the club.

Advertisement

The club finally offered a membership to attorney Sam Williams, a former chairman of the city Police Commission and a close friend of Bradley’s, but he turned it down. A second black man applied but was not accepted.

It wasn’t until 1988, a year after the city banned discrimination at most large private clubs, that Dr. Joseph L. Alexander, a surgeon and former Army colonel, became its first black member. That same year, the exclusive watering hole began accepting women.

Today, enough of the city’s movers and shakers, including Mayor Richard Riordan, still hang out here to make the California the city’s premier club.

Cecilia Rasmussen’s new book, “L.A. Unconventional,” a collection of stories about Los Angeles’ unique and offbeat characters, is available at most bookstores or can be ordered by calling (800) 246-4042. The special price of $30.95 includes shipping and sales tax.

Advertisement