Scrapbook #2 – Lincoln Beachey

My grandfather, Sig Levy, was quite interested in aviation, which isn’t surprising since he was training to become a Flying Cadet (while sitting on a pillow!) when World War I ended.  From letters he and my grandmother wrote back and forth, I know he got up in the air at least once as Loraine shared her fears (she was a Nervous Nellie until the day she died).  My hunch is that if he did get up in a plane again, he failed to tell Loraine about it so she wouldn’t worry.

As part of Sig’s scrapbook, I wrote about Glenn Martin’s historical flight from Fresno to Madera in 1912.  You can read about it HERE.  And the next pages gives us more of a glimpse into Sig’s fascination with air flight.

Here’s page 2 of the Fiftieth Anniersary of Power Flight that Sig authored.



Then in 1914, to the Fresno Fairgrounds, came another one of the world’s most daring aviators known as Lincoln Beachey.  Mr. Sig Levy of the Fresno Republican became personally well acquainted with Beachey and also promoted a barn-storming show fo him at the Fresno Fairgrounds.  At this show, he demonstrated to the public of Fresno, the first up-side-down flying in the world.  At that time, many Fresno citizens had the thrill of taking short serial hops with Mr. Beachey at the Fairgrounds.  At Mr. Sig Levy’s request, Beachey had planned for the Fresno Republican to shower raisins on Market Street in the line of march of a parade to the San Francisco exhibition grounds, on Fresno County day, at the Panama Pacific World’s exposition in San Francisco.  A few days before the event, Beachey, was unfortunately killed in a borrowed plane in San Francisco Bay and the event of showering raisins had to be cancelled; and the world lost one of its greatest fliers.

[the date of 1914 might be incorrect as the fateful day was actually March 14, 1915]

Of course Sig couldn’t stop there and had to remember the event 50 years later with this newspaper account from the San Francisco Sunday Chronicle, March 14 1965.



Noteworthy information:

On his last flight, however, he had none of the luck which had protected him in the past.  The wooden spars of the wings of his Taube plane simultaneously buckled and the craft went straight into the Bay with Beachey strapped into his seat.
A mechanic said later that a cracking sound had been heard when the wings were tested with sandbags for strength but that the fabric had not been removed to determine if the wings had been weakened.
And Beachey – idol of his day – seemed to have a premonition that death was due.  “If I get killed in this aviation game,” he had said, “it will be a monoplane that does it.

“I’m afraid of them, but someday I’m going to tame one.  One thing I don’t like about a monoplane is that there is too much strain on outspread wings – they are liable to snap off, and, when th t happens, it’s curtains.”

And another article from unknown newspaper and date.



…”Beachey already had thrilled the spectators with one successful flight on that fatal day and had gone up from the Marina for a second time jovially predicting even great exploits.

Instead of his customary biplane he was flying a new monoplane.  His mechanic warned him that the monoplane might not be able to stand the gaff because of its different construction.

But Beachey climbed into the little crate, waved gaily to a group of admirers and took off.

Suddenly something went wrong – it’s never been determined just what.  The plane began to plummet from a considerable height and plunged down like a meteor into the Bay between two army transport docks at Fort Mason.

When the wrecked plane was retrieved by grappling irons Beachey still was strapped in his seat.  The machine suffered little damage and Beachey’s body sustained only a few bruises and a couple of broken bones  An autopsy showed he’d drowned.”

And that’s the story (at least to my grandfather, Sig Levy) of Lincoln Beachey (13 March 1887 – 14 March 1915).

Jacob Gunzendorfer - Inventor

Jacob W. Gunzendorfer c. 1896

Jacob Gunzendorfer was the youngest of the four Gunzendorfer brothers (Gustave, Adolph, Abraham, Jacob) and my great grand uncle.

Jacob was born 5 Sep 1871 in California, probably in Gilroy.  In 1880 the family was living on Fifth Street in Gilroy – I’ve run across some old photos of houses and one day I hope to learn that one of them might be this house.  In the late 1880’s and early 1890’s, Jacob was in Monterey working in the family business, The White House. 

Sometime around 1893, Jacob was married to Edith Inez Steinberger, three children joined them – Irene in 1894, Mervyn in 1896, and Helen in 1902 – and by 1896 they were living in San Francisco at 1630 Sutter.  They moved around in San Francisco a bit, from Sutter Street to 1636 Buchanan, 107 Lyon and 821 Ashbury all while Jacob was building his business, The Typewritorium.  And finally sometime between 1906 (earthquake!) and 1908 they moved to their much more permanent home at 3367 Washington Street which is in the current Presidio Heights district of San Francisco.  I know that the home was built in 1902 so it either survived the earthquake or was rebuilt before Jacob and his family moved in.  Jacob and Inez remained in that home for many years and were living there at the time of the 1940 census, and maybe longer. 

I wrote about Jacob, son Mervyn, and brother Adolph’s participation in The Submarine exhibit at the Panama Pacific Exhibition in 1915 here.  What fun it must have been for my grandmother to see the exhibit and know that her family had a hand in it.  But I wonder if she knew that Jacob actually had a patent (No. 1,037,474) for an Amusement Apparatus which was patented 3 Sep 1912? 








There’s a lot of words on those pages and most of it doesn’t mean much to me but it is interesting – look at that photo of the submarine!  In a nutshell the “invention relates to an aquatic amusement device and particularly pertains to a passenger carrying structure which is adapted to be submerged and propelled through a body of water in simulation of a submarine boat.”  Cool!

I need to continue researching the house on Washington Street and The Typewritorium – so far I’ve found some current records on the house and while I know it has been renovated more than once, the photos are beautiful.  Would the current owners consider me a stalker if I contacted them?

Inez (more on her in a later post) left Jacob a widower in 1957 and Mervyn passed away just two years later.  By 1960, Jacob was living at 170 Vasquez Avenue, which was right around the corner from daughter Helen, when he passed away on August 5, 1960 at Mt. Zion Hospital.

San Francisco Examiner August 7, 1960 Section III, Page 12

Jacob is entombed at Cypress Lawn Memorial Park in Colma, California.

The rest of the story

The first part of the story of Adolph Gunzendorfer’s (my great grand uncle) life is here. 

By 1910 Adolph was back in San Francisco and sharing a home at 1627 Sacramento with his wife, Charlotte, her brother, Marshall White, and a lodger, Ralph Knowlton.  And in 1920, he and Charlotte were living at 645 Bush Street as lodgers.  Pages and pages of the census from that enumeration district are filled with lodgers – it could have been apartments or even hotels.

By 1913, Adolph was involved in a very special project – the Panama Pacific Exposition in San Francisco.  I wrote about my grandmother’s visit to the Exposition visit here.  What might Adolph have been up to?

Daily Capital Journal (Salem, Oregon) 24 Feb 1913, Page 5

Yes, Adolph, his brother, Jacob, and Jacob’s son, Mervyn, were granted the right to produce their original and remarkable concession, “The Submarines” at the 1915 World’s Fair.  And what’s really coincidental is that I wrote about Grandma’s visit to The Submarine here.  How fun that she had so many mementos from the exhibit that her two uncles and cousin had a hand in creating.  My favorite memento was the piece of redwood that kept trying to escape from the scrapbook – was Grandma trying to tell me to keep researching?  Why didn’t she leave me more clues?




On February 10, 1922, Charlotte passed away and Adolph was alone.  I remember reading about her being ill in the letters my grandmother wrote to my grandfather in 1918 so, perhaps, it was a lengthy illness that led to her death. 

San Francisco Chronicle Monday, February 13, 1922

Sometime about 1926, Adolph moved to the Hotel Maryland at 490 Geary Street, which is now the Warwick Regis Hotel.  I’ve discovered several of my ancestors living in San Francisco hotels – maybe it was common to live in a hotel back then.

The Warwick Regis Hotel today:


But Adolph not only lived in the hotel, he died in the hotel in 1932.  I can just imagine poor Adolph all alone in that hotel room as he, hopefully, passed peacefully in his sleep.

San Francisco County Records (1824-1997) Coroner’s Register, March 1932 Image 52 of 398, page 423

March 1, 1932 at 11:32 a.m. 

This date at about 11 a.m. the deceased was found dead undressed under the bed covers in his room at 490 Geary by the manager Thos. D. White.  Supposed natural cause.  He was last seen alive this am about 4:15 o’clock before he retired.  He had been complaining of pain in his right arm.  Been dead several hours.

San Francisco County Records (1824-1997) Coroner’s Register, March 1932 Image 53 of 398, page 423

Interesting facts on this page:

Apparent cause of death:  acute dilatation of heart, cardiac hypertrophy, chronic cystitis, chronic prostatitis.

The authorities took no clothes from the hotel and he had $105.00 at the time of his death (about $1200 today).

The ring was taken off his finger.

A check dated March 14, 1932 for $10.00 for miscellaneous cards was cashed.

Look at that – there was an inquest on March 8, 1932 and the jury verdict was that the death was due to natural causes.

And two days after his death, there was a very small obituary in the San Francisco Examiner.

The San Francisco Examiner Thursday, March 3, 1932 Page 19

A very interesting and almost mysterious life was reduced to just two short paragraphs in the local newspaper?  Surely there must be more to the story.  Grandma, where are the clues?

Tidbits

The next pages of the scrapbook are what Grandma called Tidbits.  Just a little of this and that.

Loraine Gunzendorfer

I wrote about Grandma’s trip to the cannery before.  I’d like to think this photo was from an outing to the cannery but – gasp – maybe she was actually working there!  For the few reading who knew my grandmother, I’m sure you will agree that Loraine working in a cannery is about the last place I’d expect her to be working.  Actually, working anywhere is a bit of a stretch.

January 20, 1914 was Loraine Gunzendorfer’s 18th birthday.  This horoscope must have really struck a chord with her since she saved Cozette’s Horoscope.



I think it must have been the second to last paragraph that interested her.

Persons whose birthdate it is have a lucky anniversary.  They probably will benefit through the aid of their friends.  Young women have the omen of happy marriage.  Jupiter particularly benefits those who were born in 1866, 1878, 1890 and 1902.  Saturn may bring temporary trouble to those born on or near January 3.

While she wasn’t born in 1866, 1878, 1890 or 1902, we know from this scrapbook that Loraine had a lot of friends to aid her.  And since she was happily married to my grandfather for 49 years, I’d say that counts as a happy marriage.



This must have been from her visit to the Panama-Pacific International Exposition in 1915.  Interesting that cameras had to be licensed.

The wines and liquors were on special!  This was actually on the back of a clipping (my family always called them clippings) but I found it more interesting than the story she saved.  I have to chuckle reading about Zinfandel being invigorating to the invalids and that Riesling wine makes the dinner taste better.



Grandma writes about the Boat Club dance and the one thing she saved to help remember the event. 



I’m not sure this is what she was referring to but since it was on the same page, it must be.  Hard to tell since half of it is missing.



I wrote about the 1914 graduation here.  Here’s another reference to the stunt.



Friday night, Sept. 25, 14.  Mrs. Woolf gave a surprise for Helen.  We danced until nearly one o’clock.  A nice affair.  Elbert _____ (brought?) me home. 

The napkin with the flowers on it must have been a remembrance from the party.



Sounds like Helen Thompson fit right into her new school.  I even have her photo from the yearbook!

Helen Thompson

Uh oh, Grandma tore her dress!  And how cute that she put a piece of it in her memory book!



Here is Elbert taking her to a party again.  He was her classmate, John Elbert Hitchcock, and the brother of her BFF, Hallie Hitchcock.  I’ve been researching this family a bit as I’d love to connect with a descendant and share some of the photos with them.  No luck so far but I’m not giving up.

John Elbert Hitchcock

More tidbits coming up next time!

Oh what a week!

Looks like my grandmother, Loraine Gunzendorfer, stayed in the Bay Area after her visit to the Panama-Pacific International Exposition in October, 1914.  She certainly was one busy young lady!

First stop was The Key Route Inn, which was a major hotel in Oakland at the time.  The wood framed structure opened in May, 1907 and was located at what is now Grand Avenue along the west side of Broadway.  The major feature of the hotel was a large archway and corridor through which the tracks of one of the rail lines passed – it was there that a stop connected to the main lobby of the hotel.  The Inn sustained major damage from a fire in September, 1930 so between that event and the Great Depression, the Inn was demolished in 1932, just 25 years after it had opened. 

Key Route Inn The archway can be seen under the “hotel” sign

I’m wondering if Grandma stayed at the Key Route Inn while she was visiting as she had two meals there on October 20, 1914 with her grandmother, Rebecca Steen. 



And here’s another menu that shows a pretty nice meal for $1.00.  I definitely inherited the “love” of collecting menus from Grandma!



Next stop was the Industrial Fair Coliseum.  Not sure what this was but Grandma thought it was odd.



After a few days rest, it was time to go to the theater.  October 23 found Grandma at the Orpheum Theater in San Francisco to see a “poor show” with her cousin, Irene Gunzendorfer.



And the next day she went to The Columbia Theater to see Disraeli.



I researched this play a bit and found that George Arliss was awarded the Best Actor Oscar in 1930 for his portrayal of British Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli, the role he played in 1914 in the play Grandma attended at the Columbia Theater.  He began his career in theater and toured the United States for 5 years in Disraeli.  He then went on to star in silent films before transitioning to the “talkies”.  Coincidentally, he was also nominated that year for Best Actor for his role in The Green Goddess, a remake of the 1923 silent film.  Interesting piece of trivia to learn on the day we will celebrate the 85th Academy Awards.  Who will join George Arliss as Best Actor this year?

George Arliss as Benjamin Disraeli The Theatre magazine, 1911

Next stop was a “surprise party at Balkin’s” on October 25, 1914.  I don’t know anything about the Balkins – was it a person or a place – but she must have enjoyed it enough to keep a napkin in her memory book.



My grandmother sure got around and had a pretty full week in October, 1914.  And all of this while she was still in high school!

Submarines

As I’ve worked through the scrapbook, this little piece of redwood has been quite pesky as it wasn’t fastened in any way and just kept slipping out whenever I’d open the book.  What could it be and what significance did it have?  Today I have figured it out!

Grandma wrote this in her scrapbook:

 

So that’s why it says “The Submarines” on the redwood – she got this at the Panama Pacific International Exposition when she was there on October 18, 1914.

As I researched the Submarines Exhibit from the Pan Pacific International, I ran across a description of the Submarines from “The red book of views of the Panama-Pacific International Exposition”:

The first thing to greet the eye of the visitor to this great spectacle is an allegorical front, with cascades of moving water typifying the restlessness of the ocean.  Neptune sits proudly over all, basking in the beams from a near-by lighthouse.  At the dock the passenger enters a steel submarine, is taken beneath the waters where he sees a shipwreck, marine animals, and a typical ocean floor.  Landing again, he is taken through the labyrinths of Neptune, a succession of wonderful scenes by H. Logan Reid of New York City. 

And when I looked at this photo from the San Francisco Museum, it looked very, very familiar to me.



And here’s from Grandma’s scrapbook!



Now I’ve figured out what those buildings were – sounds like it was a pretty cool exhibit back in 1914.

From Images of America, San Francisco’s Panama-Pacific International Exposition, by Dr. William Lipsky:

In some ways ahead of its time, the Submarine Ride was one of the largest attractions on the Zone – and one of the most expensive to build.  Fairgoers entered through one of the shark mouths, then wandered through coral caves or voyaged under the waters of the seven seas aboard a facsimile of a U.S. Navy submersible.  Among other sites, they visited Neptune’s workshop, tropical sponge beds, sunken galleons, blue grottos of Capri, mermaids and mermen, and Davy Jones’ locker.  But it wasn’t all smooth sailing: a violent storm battered the submarine before returning it safely home.

And based on this ticket, I can verify that she was, indeed, there on October 18, 1914.



I wish I knew the story about why the date (12) was crossed out and a new date (18) was written in.  But I do know that she was there on the 18th because not only does the redwood and the ticket show that date, but this little memento of her ride on the Hippodrome Carroussel with MG.



The Hippodrome Carroussel was built by Charles I.D. Looff (1852-1918), who was a master carver and builder of hand-carved carousels and amusement rides in America.  He built his first carousel at Coney Island in 1876 and during his lifetime manufactured over 50 carousels and built the famous Santa Monica Pier. 

And then there was this gift from Al, whomever that might be.



Grandma must have worked on this memory book (or scrapbook, as I’ve called it) for many years.  Because in 1918 she wrote this to her then fiancé, my grandfather, Sigmund Levy.

 


Oh Grandma, how I wish I’d had the opportunity to talk to you about all of this stuff!