More about Santa Rosa in the summer of 1925. See INTRO for overview and index.
Of all the places demolished during the urban renewal debacle to clear land for the downtown mall, the ones mourned most heavily are A) the California Theater B) the Occidental Hotel and C) the Elks’ Building. What? You don’t know about the Elks’ Building? Maybe that’s because it was called the former Elks’ Building for most of its existence.
The main part of the building was completed in July 1925. It was on the west side of A street, running a full block wide between Fourth and Fifth streets. The architect was Frank T. Shea who also designed St. Rose church and had been the architect for the city of San Francisco from 1893-1897. As seen in the drawing below, this was to be a classic Beaux Arts design although as the inset 1941 view shows, the final design was more conventional. Besides retail space at street level, it had a gym, bowling alley and locker room plus a very large meeting hall. There was a women’s room for relatives of club members while their menfolk upstairs enjoyed three-martini lunches (what is this Prohibition of which you speak?) as they made city, county, and courtroom deals.
The Elks lost the building to foreclosure in 1933 and it took the insurance company nearly a decade to find a new owner. It seemed the stores were rarely vacant and hosted a procession of the usual barbershops, tailors, coffeeshops and luncheonettes. The rooms upstairs were used as offices, Dr. Bogle’s medical clinic and a post office mail sorting center. Even during the worst of the Depression the cavernous 6,000 sq. ft. hall was often rented for large meetings and celebrations. There were serious discussions in the 1930s the city should buy it to create a long-desired civic auditorium and then later of making the whole building a courthouse annex. After WWII the upstairs became best known as the “Skyline Terrace Ballroom,” Santa Rosa’s sort-of nightclub with live music on Thursdays and other times when a C-list big band toured the area. When that finally closed there were still dances held regularly.
In Press Democrat articles and ads it continued to be identified as the “former Elks building” though 1954, which gives it the curious distinction of being known for (at least) 21 years as its FORMER self, far longer than the eight years when the Elks actually owned it. Thus any reference to the location was meaningless to out-of-towners not versed in Santa Rosa history.
It was demolished August 1974 (the Aug. 30 PD had photos) but the details were not easy to confirm; there were no more mentions connecting it to the Elks. I found the information by skimming the papers for that year, which, of course, brought its own rewards. Behold my new favorite PD headline: “Blaze of gunfire over pickle salad” (June 21, 1974).
LODGE WILL TAKE OVER HOME AUG. 1 – Dedication and formal opening of the new $270,000 home of the Santa Rosa Lodge of Elks will take place as a New Year’s function on January 1, 1926, according to plans now being made by the lodge, it was announced last night by Dr. S. S. Bogle, chairman of the building committee… The lodge room will be 50 by 80 feet and the auditorium of the same dimensions will have a stage 20 by 40 feet. There will also be a gymnasium, bowling alley and shower baths, as well as club rooms handsomely equipped. The main entrance – from A street will open into a reception room to be maintained for the use of the wives, mothers, sisters and daughters of the members. This will always be at the disposal of the women, just as the club rooms are open to the members… (July 10)
The McDonalds were the best known people we knew almost nothing about.
Readership of the previous article, “THE McDONALDS vs SANTA ROSA,” was unusually high and the reaction on social media trended to expressions of shock. I likewise confess to being astonished as I began looking closely at the legendary figure of Mark L. McDonald; after all, historians have told us for over a century about his boundless generosity toward Santa Rosa and everyone here.
But as introduced in that piece, quite the opposite was true. He fought against all efforts to improve Santa Rosa unless it would put a dollar in his pocket and he was given credit for projects he had little or nothing to do with. Modern historians have further burnished his reputation because they haven’t realized how badly it was actually tarnished.
Commenters on social media seemed particularly surprised to learn about the family’s support of the Confederate cause, so more details about that are provided below.
Most misinformation about Mark and his family can be traced to his 1911 profile in the county history written by Tom Gregory and “McDonald Avenue: A Century of Elegance” privately published in 1970 by Ann M. Connor. Gregory’s biographical details came from Mark himself, as was common in all “mug book” local histories. Connor did not cite her sources aside for names collectively mentioned in the acknowledgements.
Some of the McDonald stories fall into the category of probably not true, or at least not completely so. For example, it’s now often said Luther Burbank helped landscape McDonald Avenue. The street was originally lined with only eucalyptus trees, a species Burbank never used (and nor would he have approved of planting such a bland monoculture). Yet Burbank – who arrived in Santa Rosa during 1875, the same year as Mark McDonald – might well have later donated trees or other plants to the McDonalds for the street or their private garden; there are still all sorts of Burbank novelties to be found in the older neighborhoods of town.
McDonald Avenue c. 1900 lined with eucalyptus trees. Photo Sonoma County Library
–
–
MORE TALES NOT TOLD
There are some stories that would be interesting to explore but lie outside the bounds of Santa Rosa and Sonoma County.
One astonishing claim in Mark L. McDonald’s 1911 profile was he came to California in the early 1850s as the captain leading a wagon train with sixty wagons, fighting Indians along the way. As he was then twenty-something, had never been out west nor seemed to be much of an outdoorsman, there are reasons to be skeptical about his account.
Mark’s San Francisco stockbrokerage went bust at least twice before his adventures began in Santa Rosa, with events in 1871 being so serious that newspapers nationwide were saying he was ruined. That could mean he was not as wealthy as everyone believed and explain some of his bullying and uncivility, as it was critically important to him for investments in Santa Rosa to be highly profitable.
Also in 1871 James McDonald, his lesser-known brother who would come to own quite a bit of real estate here, was principal owner of the Keystone gold mine during a particularly dark moment in early labor conflicts, which included miners setting fire to a mineshaft. Called the “Amador War” by the newspapers, James was acting as manager during the crisis and directing company actions.
The lives of the McDonald children are well documented and not particularly interesting – except for Mabel. She died of pneumonia in Berlin, Germany in 1917, having made it her permanent residence about two weeks after the start of WWI. (She renewed her U.S. passport Aug. 15, 1914 at the U.S. consolate in Hamburg, so she could have gotten out of the country if desired.) Her husband and six year-old son remained in San Francisco. Why she chose to live in wartime Germany was never explained.
What is never mentioned by any of the historians were details of Mark and wife Ralphine’s Southern roots – and how both grew up in families who owned slaves.
According to the federal 1850 “Slave Schedule,” James M. McDonald of Washington Kentucky had seven, three of them adult men and one woman. The youngest child was two years old. Ralph North of Natchez Mississippi had six slaves on the same Schedule, including two adult women and a man. The enslaved children were ages seven (twins?) and nine.
James came to California in Mark’s wagon train (or maybe an earlier train which included two other sons). Ralph stayed in Mississippi and joined the Confederate Army, serving as 2nd Lieutenant in the home guard despite being nearly 50. He organized charity drives to collect clothing – particularly, wool socks – for soldiers, so it’s in character for him to have helped organize Santa Rosa’s 1867 “Southern Relief Fund” mentioned in the previous chapter. Other than that he was a respected attorney and resumed being a judge after he returned to Mississippi, admired for having written what was considered a definitive text on probate law.
Another family mystery is how and when Mark and Ralphine met. Her father Ralph appeared in California quickly after the end of the Civil War; he was admitted to the state bar in July 1865 and in September began advertising as an attorney in the Santa Rosa papers. We might assume Ralphine and her mother went west with him, but it’s possible they came ahead. Given the McDonalds were married in Santa Rosa on January 15 1866, they either had a whirlwind courtship or met in San Francisco before her father joined them.
In 1875 Mark bought the waterworks and announced he was selling lots in his new subdivision. After that things happened fast. T. J. Ludwig, the town’s premier builder, constructed at least four houses on McDonald Ave in 1877, four more the next year, and in 1879 built “Mableton,” also known today as the McDonald mansion. Additionally, it seems to be lost history that the architects for Mableton were Townsend & Wyneken of San Francisco, who specialized in the “modern” Eastlake style.*
There are several muddled parts of the early history of the street, aside from the unlikelihood of Burbank planting eucalypti. One of the early houses built by Ludwig was #1104, a stately house with a classical portico. Modern writers think the McDonalds lived there when in Santa Rosa before Mableton was finished. It could be true, but it was sold in February 1879 to Thomas L. Thompson – editor of the Democrat newspaper, and in whose earlier home Mark and Ralphine were married. That sale was at least six months before Mableton was ready, so they would have needed to put furniture et. al. into storage for the duration. Everything about this story falls into the possible-but-unlikely bin.
Then there’s the story of Mableton being modeled after the Mississippi plantation home of Ralphine’s childhood. While that may have been the kind of place she always wanted, there’s no evidence the North family ever had such a lavish house; he was a circuit judge, briefly a member of the state legislature and the family didn’t appear to be especially outgoing in Natchez social circles.
Also, it’s a bit of revisionist history to now settle on the name as “Mableton.” The place was surely named after their youngest child, Mabel; the family moved in around her second birthday. (Be thankful construction didn’t lag until her baby sister was born a few months later, or we might be calling it “Edithon.”) For decades it was spelled interchangeably as Mableton and Mabelton; the first mention in the Sonoma Democrat was in 1883 where it was identified as “Mabelton Villa.”
I’ll accept their practice of naming things after children and use it to posit a theory: Lake Ralphine was not called that to honor Mrs. McDonald, but rather in memory of their deceased daughter. While the reservoir was being dug in 1877, seven year-old Ralphine died in San Francisco.
Perhaps there’s an unpublished memoir or diary out there that could sort out some of these questions but we work with what we have. Should any further details appear I’ll gladly correct them here or elsewhere, as needed.
(All sources from the Daily Democrat or weekly Sonoma Democrat except as noted.)
Application of Ralph North. On motion of Hartley, and filing affidavit, ordered that applicant, late of Mississippi, be admitted to practice law in all the Courts of this State. (Sacramento Daily Union) 12 July 1865
T. J. Ludwig has a contract to build four more residences on McDonald avenue. 19 May 1877
T. J. Ludwig has commenced building a two story residence for Capt. Frasier on McDonald Avenue. (It was really David R. Fraser) 10 September 1877
J. T. Ludwig commenced hauling lumber for the construction of two new houses on McDonald avenue. 21 February 1878
Mr. Ludwig will commence the erection of another residence near the northern extremity of the Avenue, and Col. McDonald has given him a contract to erect another, so that two more elegant structures will soon adorn that thoroughfare. 27 July 1878
Work will be commenced on the new summer residence of Col. M. L. McDonald the first of next week. Mr. Ludwig informs us that he will push it right ahead. 25 January 1879
Summer Residence.- Messrs. Ludwig and Duncan commenced work on the foundation of Col. McDonald’s summer residence on McDonald Avenue, on Monday. We have seen the plans, they were designed by Townsend and Wyneken, of San Francisco, and the building will evidently be most elegant in design, commodious in its appointments and beautiful in finish. It is located almost opposite Col. Rue’s residence. 5 February 1879
False. — A rumor has been in circulation that Col. M. L. McDonald has ordered work on his summer residence on McDonald Avenue, discontinued. We are assured by the contractor, T. J. Ludwig, that there was never anything done to warrant any such statement, and that the work will be pushed to completion. 26 April 1879
Going Ahead.— Work on the McDonald summer residence is going right ahead, and Mr. Ludwig expects to have it completed in about sixty days. 17 May 1879
A ROSEBUD PARTY – One of the most Pleasant juvenile parties that has ever been held in the City of Roses, transpired at Mabelton Villa, the handsome residence of Col. M. L. McDonald, on Wednesday evening, the occasion, being the sixth anniversary of the birth of Miss Mabel McDonald. About fifty of the juvenile friends of the little Miss were present, and the evening was spent in the most delightful manner possible for the youthful participants. A sumptuous repast was thoroughly enjoyed, and a magic lantern exhibition delighted all the spectators. Miss Mabel received a number of handsome presents. 8 September 1883
It happened without any warning: “Santa Rosa’s Public Library will close at 6PM today and suspend services until another building can be found,” the Press Democrat article announced on November 17, 1960.
What town closes down its library? And can they even do that? Oh, sure, the old building had its faults, everybody knew. The building could be overcrowded after school or on weekends and the shelves were so full that books were also piled on the floor, which had something of a slant.
Behind those ivy-covered walls the place was thick with sentiment. Three generations of Santa Rosans had warm memories starting with children’s story hours, of later reference desk help with homework, of taking home lightweight books to pass the time or stronger reading to sharpen one’s wits. Out-of-town newspapers had classified ads to help find a new job or place to live that wasn’t here; magazines presented stories and pictures of places to dream they could someday see.
(RIGHT: Scene from Shadow of a Doubt, 1943)
And not to overlook that the building was a landmark – the library had been a centerpiece in two major motion pictures, with the Chamber of Commerce touting it as a tourist attraction.
Whatever was wrong with the old place, couldn’t the damage be fixed?
No, authorities said. Or maybe yes – with the caveat that everyone would hate how it looked afterwards. But it wasn’t really that simple a question because the real, unspoken answer was this: “Don’t ask the question because we’ve already made a decision.” And what the city and Library Board of Trustees had decided to do was tear the building completely down and replace it with something they had already committed to build. Landmark, public will, and everything else be damned.
The given reason for padlocking the doors was that the building wasn’t up to fire codes and was structurally unsound. A letter to the Trustees from City Manager Sam Hood told them to immediately “move out of the building or close it” (i.e. shut down all town library services).
(RIGHT: Find the temporary Santa Rosa Library. Photo: Sonoma County Library)
After a mad scramble to find space downtown, a shrunken version of the Santa Rosa Free Public Library opened just three weeks later on Exchange Avenue across from the courthouse. It was now in a former dance hall, on the second floor above the “Uptown Beauty Salon” and the “Bambi Room” cocktail lounge. The new digs were probably not rated to carry that much of a weight load and were just as much a firetrap (or more) than the old library, as the only access was via a narrow set of stairs. And so the world turned for over six years, until the new library finally opened on February 19, 1967.
The topic of the old library still comes up surprisingly often on social media; in FaceBook nostalgia groups some can still recall being there and lament that it’s gone. It also often comes up in regards of the 1906 earthquake, as photos of its partial collapse seem to be second in popularity only to those of the courthouse with its toppled dome.
In those forums two reasons are usually given for why it was torn down. Its unreinforced masonry was a huge danger (a topic discussed below) and/or it was another victim of Santa Rosa’s maniac efforts in the 1960s to destroy much of its own history, when the downtown area was declared chock-full of urban blight that must be bulldozed ASAP. Those dark years are handled in the ongoing series, “YESTERDAY IS JUST AROUND THE CORNER.”
But neither of those arguments were made at the time – when the push for a new library began in 1959, the only issue was that Santa Rosa had outgrown its 6,000 sq. ft. building. As the Library Board hired an architect and bickered with the City Council about their proposed construction budget that year and over much of the next, not once did any article in the Press Democrat mention there were safety concerns about the building. It was just the library was very crowded and had to limit purchases of new books because there wasn’t enough shelf space.
(RIGHT: Books stored on the floor in Santa Rosa Carnegie Library, 1960. Photo courtesy Sonoma County Library)
The budget debate had two angles. The Library Board said they needed $1,250,000 while the Council argued they could cut back by eliminating frivolities, such as an elevator and air conditioning. The Board insisted the new library stay at the same location, while some on the Council wanted its prime real estate sold to help pay for the new place.
Jumping into this conflict came Hugh Codding, who in that era kept relentlessly popping up in the news like an Alfred Hitchcock cameo. Codding was his usual obnoxious – yet charming! – self in trying to sweet-talk both sides to instead remodel the old shoe factory, on the west side of modern Brookwood Ave between 2nd and 3rd. Sure, it had less than half the space the library needed, but so what? There was plenty of parking. Even when librarian David Sabsay pointed out that 4 in 5 patrons walked to the library while doing other downtown errands, old Hugh was undeterred and followed with a pitch for a lease-back deal. The word “no” wasn’t in his vocabulary (nor was “rebar” apparently).
Through 1959 and early 1960 talks slogged on. Did the library really need to buy so many new books? Why can’t it be moved out to the sticks so we can sell the property? Hey, Codding is back with a new proposal for his old factory! And while we should never cast all of our elected officials as bonafide idiots, at one City Council meet an apparently exasperated Sabsay even had to explain that a library was a hallmark of, you know, civilization.
Finally, in May 1960 – fifteen months into the process – the city sent the chief building inspector over to evaluate the old library’s condition. From the PD article on the report, it seemed like he was still giving the City Council the option to kick the can further down the road, although his conclusion was that “the structural safety and stability of the building are questionable.”
But the details found in the report should have caused the building to be immediately red tagged. Floors were overloaded with twice the weight they were designed for and not fastened to the foundation, which was settling unevenly. Efforts to brace the building after the 1906 earthquake included two steel cross beams connecting the opposite walls – but that rigidity only made matters worse as the library’s foundation settled, resulting in severe vertical cracks and the walls bulging outward.
(RIGHT: Bookshelf bracing in Santa Rosa Carnegie Library, 1960. Photo courtesy Sonoma County Library)
Ironically, the report appeared exactly a week after the PD printed a promo section with the claim, “The Santa Rosa library facilities are good, although not large enough at present for the growing city, but plans call for new and larger library facilities soon.”
The Library Trustees hired a San Francisco engineer to produce another report. His conclusion was that the only way the building could be made structurally sound was by encasing the whole shebang in a steel exoskeleton, then covering that with four inches of high density concrete. Less City of Roses, more City of Chernobyl.
A senior state Fire Marshal surveyed the 57 year-old building and said that unless two more exits were added there was no “reasonable degree of safety from fire and panic to occupants.” An electrician’s report stated the wiring was “very inadequate” and a fire danger. They immediately took the space heaters away from library staff.
The City Council had already approved putting a library construction bond on a Jan. 1961 special bond election along with several million$ for city infrastructure improvements. But after those alarming reports came the tense meetings with the city where it was decided to lock the doors; the city library’s future now rested on spinning the election roulette wheel in hopes the public would agree to build a new library.
Things began moving fast. Until the new library was built, the city library would have to immediately find an interim location for the two years that was expected for construction. Before they settled on upper Bambi, Codding had offered a spot in Montgomery Village that used to be the Big Boy Market (2400 Magowan Drive, currently Dano’s Liquors). Everybody ignored him.
Voters who read the Press Democrat now found a steady stream of alarming articles casting the library story as a crisis. “I’m amazed to find some people who still think the building is usable,” said City Manager Sam Hood. A library Board member called it an “acute and desperate situation.” Councilman Karl Stolting pointed to the part from engineer’s report about the unbolted floor joists and remarked that an earthquake jolt might knock them off the masonry, causing the floors to pancake. “At least don’t have so many kids in there,” he remarked.
But the hair-on-fire award goes to the editor who wrote a PD op-ed, “Library Closing Overdue” just a few months after that promo piece assuring that “the Santa Rosa library facilities are good”:
If you want, you can take along a plumb-bob to confirm that your eyes are not playing tricks on you when they see that the stone walls are bowing outward. You can bring along a spirit-level to confirm that one of your legs is not shorter than the other, but that the floor actually sags downward. Take a look at the leaning walls and the sagging floor of the main library floor. Then go down to the basement and look at the children’s library that is directly underneath. Figure out for yourself whether you would want your own children in there.
Let’s hit the pause button for a moment to consider what someone living in Santa Rosa at the time might have thought of all this. Part of it would have felt very familiar – because it was almost an exact replay of the ongoing courthouse drama.
The story of events leading to the demolition of the downtown courthouse are told in “HOW WE LOST THE COURTHOUSE,” but to recap: By the early 1950s it was recognized that a larger courthouse was needed. Someday a new one would be built on the site northwest of town which would also be the new home for all county offices but there was no great hurry, just as the City Council would later dawdle over the question of whether a new library was really needed.
The came the 1957 earthquake. The courthouse damage was cosmetic, not structural; repairs could be made and while they wouldn’t be cheap, repair costs and other needed upgrades would still be a fraction of the price to build a new whole place. But out-of-town consultants told the Board of Supervisors the best thing was to tear it down and sell off Courthouse Square. Similarly, the city didn’t take the library’s problems seriously until a San Francisco engineer in 1960 said that building could be fixed at a reasonable cost with the exoskeleton, but it wasn’t worth doing it.
The Press Democrat – firmly behind any flavor of redevelopment – never missed a chance to make the quake-damaged courthouse seem a deathtrap, like it would later paint the library as a ticking time bomb. In 1957 the PD falsely told readers the courthouse may be in structurally “poor condition,” just as in 1960 the paper would exaggerate claims of library danger via collapsing floors (a scenario not mentioned in the engineer’s report).
In both cases, the way forward required voters to approve construction bonds. The courthouse bond measure was on the ballot in November 1960. It failed to pass.
The library bond came up two months later and the PD tried hard to make it seem appealing to voters, with big front page stories. The old library had reached max efficiency back in 1930, when the population was just 11 thousand; there were now over 30k residents. The new library was projected to fill the city’s needs all the way up to 1980 and would have a modern design including a “glassed-in smoking court.” It also failed to pass – badly, getting only 36 percent approval of voters.
Bonds for the courthouse and the library continued to march lockstep in defeat. In 1961 courthouse funding was again turned down. In 1962 it was voted against twice, and once more in 1963. They tried again to pass a library bond in 1963 and it likewise failed.
It’s almost easy to understand why the courthouse bonds couldn’t pass. They were asking for lots of money (about $34 million in today’s dollars) and was strongly fought by the Sonoma County Taxpayers’ Association. Opposition to the library bond seemed to come from people who apparently never actually used the library. A sample of letters that appeared in the PD:
“The engineers say the building shouldn’t have been repaired after the 1906 earthquake, but it’s still standing after 54 years, so it must be pretty sound. When will our public officials get it into their heads that we want economy.”
The library could be expanded by building a two story annex on the west side of the property, suggested Harry B. Fetch, with a parking garage underneath it. He added he would not vote to construct a new building.
A voter wrote he would approve a bond for $500k but not a penny more, since the library was mostly just used by high school students.
The Friends of the Santa Rosa Public Library created a short film, “The Library Story” to shame the town into supporting a bond and finally, in 1964 voters approved the $1.25M bond to tear down the Carnegie Library and build a new one at the same location. This time the vote wasn’t even close – it won with almost 84 points.
Construction didn’t begin for almost a full year. Shortly before demolition started in March 1965 the public was invited to take one last look inside the building – if any readers remember taking this final tour, please contact me. A PD photo by John LeBaron, taken through the old glass entrance door, showed the book checkout desk, now littered with junk. Leaning against it on the floor was the original portrait of Andrew Carnegie that had welcomed patrons to his library for so long.
Dedication of cornerstone for Santa Rosa Carnegie Library, April 13, 1903. Photo courtesy Sonoma County Library
There’s no question that the Carnegie Library was structurally unsound and there was no realistic hope of saving it. But claiming its fatal flaw was just “unreinforced masonry” is simplistic hand waving.
There were other buildings in Santa Rosa with unreinforced masonry that weathered the 1906 earthquake without serious problems; St. Rose church, two years older than the library, came through with trivial damage – its Nave would have been one of the safest places in town during the shake. Likewise the Western Hotel in Railroad Square – now home to Flying Goat Coffee – only needed minor repair. There was apparently no harm done to the train depot, which was even built by the same contractor who constructed the library: William Peacock of San Francisco.*
Yes, the stone walls were badly cracked and slowly collapsing, but that wasn’t the underlying problem – it was the foundation. The building was doomed before a patron checked out the first book.
The structure was unstable, Santa Rosa’s chief building inspector wrote in his May, 1960 report, not because of earthquake shakes but because its foundation had been settling and shifting for a long time. His report continued:
…The very mass and weight that were designed into the building are contributing to its deterioration by causing excessive settlement of exterior walls to take place, thus overstressing the walls…it is evident that the foundation of the building is inadequate for the loads imposed and will continue to settle in an uneven manner.
Details about the construction work are unknown, except that the basalt came from the Titania Quarry between Highway 12 and Montgomery Drive. The building inspector’s report said “the building was well constructed, of good materials and workmanship.” We don’t know how much time and effort contractor Peacock put into site preparation or if there were any earthworks beyond simple grading. What we do know is that Peacock’s bid for the job was significantly lower than the competing seven other builders.
The architect for the library was Ernest Martin Hoen (1872 – 1914), who was 29 years old when he was awarded the contract. He was the son of Barney Hoen, one of Santa Rosa’s founders.
He had graduated from Washington University in 1889 (the Manual Training School, not the School of Architecture) and worked for a few years at the McDougall family construction firm, as Brainerd Jones also did when he was starting out. (His background info, BTW, comes from one of the Lewis Publishing Company “mug books” where people paid to have their biographies included as part of a local history book – there’s no entry for him in any of the historical architect databases.)
He lived in Sacramento where he worked for the school district, teaching mechanical drawing at the high school and night school for $100/mo. Prior to getting the contract for the Santa Rosa Library, the only architectural credits I can find are the Shasta County high school in Redding – which wasn’t built until after our library – and the wood frame Union Primary School in Sacramento. (There was a legal issue when he submitted his bill for the latter, as he was also a salaried employee of the district. That building was repurposed as a warehouse in 1932.)
With such a tissue-thin résumé, it’s surprising that he won out over “six prominent architects of the state” as the Press Democrat claimed – except for the fact that he was “an old Santa Rosa boy” as the PD reminded readers at every opportunity.
Besides being the library’s architect, he was paid additionally to be its supervising architect. And since he was indeed “an old Santa Rosa boy,” the Personal Mention column of the PD paid special attention every time he came to town. For 1903 it showed he visited seven times – but only once prior the dedication of cornerstone when the foundation work was already completed, as seen in the photo above.
When the doors of the Santa Rosa Free Public Library opened on March 10, 1904, a PD editorial promised “it should and doubtless will prove a source of both pleasure and profit to the residents of this city and vicinity for the next hundred years.” Spoiler alert: It didn’t.
Contractor Peacock can’t be held blameless, of course, but the final responsibility lay with Hoen. Through his lack of supervision on the construction project or lack of experience in designing masonry buildings – or both – he fashioned a building that would not long stand.
ABOVE: Santa Rosa Carnegie Library during 1965 demolition. TOP: Library following 1960 closure. Both photos courtesy Sonoma County Library
* William Peacock and his wife were killed here during the 1906 earthquake and in one of the more bizarre Believe-it-or-Not! episodes of the disaster, there were years of court hearings to determine which one of them died first because they left very different wills.
SELECTED PRESS DEMOCRAT ARTICLES
February 12, 1959; SR Library Program May Total $1 Million
May 15, 1960: City Library Structural Safety Questioned in Report
November 10, 1960: Fire Marshal Hits Safety of Library
November 16, 1960: Council Backs Library Trustees on Abandonment
November 17, 1960: Santa Rosa’s Library Closing Doors Tonight
November 20, 1960: Library Danger Signs Couldn’t Be Ignored
November 22, 1960: Library Closing Overdue (editorial)
January 1, 1961: Why Does Santa Rosa Need a New Library
PLANS ACCEPTED Architect Ernest Hoen Will Supervise Building of Library
At a special meeting of the Library Trustees held on Wednesday afternoon the plans of Ernest M. Hoen of Sacramento, an old Santa Rosa boy, were accepted and he will supervise the construction of the new Carnegie library building, or as it will be known the Santa Rosa Free Public Library. Mr. Hoen’s plans provide for a handsome structure which will contain ample room for the carrying out of the scheme to give the city a modern library building. He was the successful competitor out of six prominent architects of the state. For his plans and specifications and the supervision of the erection of the building he will receive $1,000. Mr. Hoen stands high in his profession and has designed many important buildings in different sections of this state. A colored drawing of the new building prepared by him can be seen at the library room. The main entrance of the new building will be on Fourth street and the basement entrance on E street. Interested citizens may inspect the plans selected. They are at the office of the president of the board of Trustees, W. D. Reynolds, on Hinton avenue.
