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?

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!