HEALTH
Although it was already a mecca for health seekers on the eve of the 1880s,
Los Angeles was not far removed from the dirty, unsanitary pueblo that had
confronted newcomers in earlier years. Drinking water still came from communal
ditches that also served as laundries or, in the case of Harris Newmark's
family, as a convenient drain for the bathtub. Sewers, as previously noted,
were virtually non-existent. Efficient disposal of garbage and trash was years
away, and residents still complained about dead animals found in the zanja or
decaying on the city's streets.
Smallpox epidemics periodically swept Southern California, and diphtheria,
typhoid and tuberculosis took their toll. Public health measures before the
1880s were ineffectual or ignored, and opposition arose when authorities took
steps to establish a "pesthouse" in Chavez Ravine for the isolation of those
with smallpox. While a number of doctors had settled in the region, hospital
facilities were minimal. The result was that much remained to be done to make
the area as attractive to health seekers as they expected it to be.
A) THE SMELL OF THE CITY: ALL ABOUT GARBAGE
The fragrance of orange blossoms was not the only aroma carried by the
breeze in Los Angeles, but the offensive odor came from more than the source
cited by sewer farm opponents. Throughout the 1880s residents complained about
the stench that arose from a variety of places and accused local government of
failing to take appropriate action. Singled out for particular criticism was
the city's Health Officer, whom residents charged with failing to move against
offending sources of pollution. One of these was the municipal dump,
established by ordinance in 1874 on city land where First Street ended at the
river and hardly the 19th century equivalent of a sanitary landfill. Residents
deposited all manner of discards and debris there, apparently ignoring the
restriction that dead animals be buried no less than three feet deep. "H,"
writing in 1882, captured in a short paragraph the essence of the city dumping
ground.
{Times, Oct. 3, 1882, p. 4}
Wants to Know.
To the Editor:
Has Los Angeles a Health officer, or some one whose duty
it is to look after the public health? If not, the city
authorities ought to employ one, even though it be but
temporarily. If we have one, he should be started out on a
voyage of discovery. The public find the gutters of most of
the streets in a horribly offensive condition. If that
officer had time he might make a pilgrimage to the foot of
First street, the city dumping ground, where his nostrils
might be regaled with odors most suffocating, where carcasses
are permitted to fester in the hot sun, and garbage exhales
its deadly vapors, rendering the neighborhood utterly
unbearable. Let us hear from somebody.
H.
The odors emanated not only from the dump but from a number of sources,
some much closer to downtown. In an era before sewers had become common,
individual efforts to deal with overflowing cesspools and other waste often
left much to be desired, as noted by "A Man with a Nose."
{Times, Aug. 11, 1883, p. 3}
Is It the Health Officer's Duty?
To the Editor of the Times--Sir: "Shoo! what a stink!"
Such is the constant exclamation made by numberless people as
they make their way through the main streets after dark, when
things are quiet. Noisome odors that come up from basements
of houses and water closets that are placed under the
sidewalks, some without any traps at all and others with
defective ones. Is it not the Health Officer's duty to look
up such nuisances, not only dangerous to health, but
injurious to the fair fame of our city for cleanliness? A
time will come when wiseacres will want to know why this
thing was not done long ago, when cholera, fever, malarious
disorders in general take hold of many of us. I want to
know.
A MAN WITH A NOSE.
Los Angeles, Cal., Aug. 10, 1883.
Some complainants singled out specific offenders, as in these two letters
printed the same day.
{Times, Mar. 11, 1887, p. 6}
It Smells to Heaven.
Los Angeles, March 10.--[To the Editor of The Times.]
Whereas, an appeal to the health officers and the police is
of no avail, we try to draw the attention of the public in
general to the filthy condition of the lots between
Sainsevain and Ducommun streets, in a densely-populated
district. There is on Alameda street, near Sainsevain, the
hide house of Mr. Caspar Cohen. In the rear of it is an
extensive yard, where the hides are spread out to dry,
exhaling an odor strong enough for anybody. Besides that,
there is a manure pile and other rubbish in one corner, which
has not been removed since a year ago. Hoping to see
something done, I remain respectfully, in the name of
residents,
JOHN FORSTER,
No. 24 Sainsevain street.
{Times, March 11, 1887, p. 6}
No. 424.
Los Angles, March 10.--[To the Editor of The Times.] We
desire to call the attention of the proper health officers to
a nuisance existing on the premises No. 424 New High street.
An inspection will convince them of the immediate necessity
of an improvement thereon. By calling attention to this
matter you will confer a great favor upon
MANY RESIDENTS.
While Howard Nelson, The Los Angeles Metropolis, and Joseph O'Flaherty, An
End and A Beginning, suggest that municipal garbage collection was not
undertaken until well after the 1880s, a city ordinance of 1874 placed the
overseer of the city jail's chain gang in charge of garbage removal, utilizing
"the regular police carts." In 1889 the city required removal of garbage from
private homes once a week. Commercial residences, such as hotels and boarding
houses, were to provide for garbage disposal at their own expense.
"K. L.," one of the thousands of migrants who poured into Los Angeles in
the boom years, gave a graphic description of the garbage problem in this 1887
letter and in the process poked fun at the city's backwardness in matters
Easterners took for granted in a civilized community.
{Times, June 2, 1887, p. 3}
Garbage, Garbage!
A RESIDENT WHO THINKS THERE'S RATHER TOO MUCH OF IT.
Los Angeles, June 1.--[To the Editor of The Times.] Not
exactly garbage on the brain, but garbage under our
noses--too much of it! We are here in your beautiful City of
the Angels, fresh from the bleak but cleanly hills of the
extreme East, trying to solve the question of how to live
plainly, comfortably and in accordance with the laws of
health as we understand them.
We find ourselves pupils, notwithstanding we had availed
ourselves of every opportunity to inform ourselves in
relation to life in Lower California before coming here. We
are slowly learning the tricks of trade practiced by your
grocers, butchers, bakers and laundrymen, and hope, in time,
to be able to master the situation, and enjoy life without
more worry and expense than the living is worth.
Just now, with the sun pouring down good and strong, the
garbage question is the greatest problem.
Every day our family--not a small one--must have fruits
and vegetables prepared for our table; and the accumulation
of refuse is a matter over which we are troubled.
Our garbage barrel has a tightly-fitting cover, and is
placed in the farther corner of our yard, which is quite as
large as our purse permits. Monday the barrel is emptied,
and Monday and Tuesday it stands out in the yard a harmless,
inoffensive affair. We approach it with quite a degree of
comfort and safety. Wednesday the barrel begins to become an
object of offense, and you hurry from it. Thursday you lift
the cover gradually, and get a sniff of filth that is only a
foretaste of what is in store for you. Friday, Saturday and
Sunday that barrel stares at you, an object of loathing and
fear. We call our children out of the back yard, and send
them in the street to play--send them anywhere away from the
pestilential garbage barrel, for we well know the filthy
stench is a breeder of malarial, typhoid and diphtheritic
fevers.
When obliged to open our barrel during the latter days
of the week, one hand must shut the nostrils tightly; the
contribution is thrown in at arm's length.
Should you venture to look in, the wriggling mass will
be very apt to take away your relish for a good dinner. If
there is any way to remedy this condition of things we want
to be quickly taught it.
It seems to us that, in a climate like this, a week is a
long time to leave this accumulation. On Monday mornings
when the garbage is trundled to the front the stench is
fearful; yet the barrel often stands there till afternoon.
Why, as a matter of health and cleanliness, should not our
garbage be removed every day, or, better yet, every night?
Must our refuse be left standing in our yards a whole week,
with the flies and maggots swarming and breeding about it by
the thousands, and the offensive stench poisoning the air we
breathe? By all means let me know how we can abate this
nuisance, more fearful in the results than our late smallpox
scare.
K. L.
Though private garbage collectors periodically came through town to pick up
food scraps for nearby hog farms, such as those in Vernon, the efficiency of
that system was in doubt. "K. L." had been annoyed by garbage that waited a
week for collection. "Citizen" would have found that once-a-week pickup a
Godsend. Several months after "Citizen's" complaint appeared in the Times the
council adopted the 1889 ordinance mentioned above, providing for a more
efficient system of garbage collection.
{Times, April 22, 1889, p. 3}
It "Smells to Heaven."
Los Angeles, April 16.--[To the Editor of The Times.]
Please allow me, through the medium of your well-circulated
paper, to call attention of the Board of Health to the
disease-breeding, malaria-inviting barrels of garbage
standing in the alley way of the Millard House, corner of
Fourth and Los Angeles streets.
These barrels of garbage and house slops have been
standing there three or four weeks, causing a stench that is
almost unendurable.
The garbage wagon passes the house daily, but no effort
is made to utilize it.
Is there no law compelling property-owners to attend
such matters? Yours,
CITIZEN.
B) SPITTING, HEALTH, MEN AND WOMEN
Spitting on the street was primarily a health matter, but three letter
writers in December, 1887, broadened the scope of the subject into something
much more profound. Rather than comment on the health hazard resulting from
spitting on the public streets, they turned the discussion into an attack on
the general uncouth character of men. That these letters appeared during the
women's rights debate following the death of Charles Harlan and the arrest of
Hattie Woolsteen, the young woman he had seduced {see chapter on "Women"}, may
not have been a coincidence.
"Guadaloupa," who was never identified, was one of the more frequent
contributors to the letters column. The pseudonym "St. Katherine" appeared but
once in the 1880s. Here was a woman who should have lived in the late 20th
century, not the Los Angeles of the 1880s. "Vassar Graduate" could have been
one of the two alumna of that college known to be living in Los Angeles in
1887: Miss Sarah P. Monk, professor of chemistry at the city's newly-opened
state normal college, or Mrs. Susan Dorsey, who later became superintendent of
city schools.
{Times, Dec. 2, 1887, p. 6}
Observations by Guadaloupa.
Los Angeles, Nov. 30.--[To the Editor of The Times.]
This morning, on Spring street, I heard one gentleman say to
another: "Oh, the repulsive habits of men! Look at this
sidewalk." Then and there I could have given that man the
traditional gold snuff box, and have added to it the united
thanks of all the women of Los Angeles. Man is God's last,
best work, I said to myself as I walked on--the work that He
did not hesitate to make in His own Image. But what a
showing is the degenerated result! Nearing and entering the
postoffice, it seemed as if one of the divine images was
rivaling the other to see which could be filthiest; and my
mind went back to a question I heard John B. Gough once ask
his audience (the women part of it): "In view of this total
indifference of men to the sweet and pure and cleanly things
of life, I beg of you, tell me how can you ever love them?"
But the serious question is, do women ever really love
any but the great and cleanly men? Are not the constant
marital upheavals everywhere in America the result more of
the uncleanly habits of men than of any other brute? Oh,
it's a dreadful thing to be linked forever, through all the
days of life, to an object who makes himself repulsive to
us--repulsive, when it is so easy to be beautiful and clean.
Constant expectoration cannot but injure health; the
wizened, cadaverous, stunted, and altogether undivine-like
looking men that the streets are full of are, at every hour,
proving this. If the fact that we have no right to make
ourselves repulsive to each other will not weigh with men,
the thought of health should weigh; thought of the knowledge
that the race must pay in physical disobedience--that the
race must go down just in proportion as its source goes down.
I have read somewhere, and lately, that dentists
attribute the longer life of the lower teeth over the upper
to the fact that the saliva rests upon the lower teeth, and
hence is guardian to their strength. Now, it is certain that
the Great Physician knew well his own methods when he
supplied the body with all its intricate and beautiful
machinery. What then must we say of the intelligence of men
who, every few minutes of their waking hours, are throwing
off the best medicine for their physical salivation,
apparently unaware that they are blighting their best of
today and wrecking hopelessly all their tomorrows.
GUADALOUPA.
{Times, Dec. 4, 1887, p. 7}
She Likes "Guadaloupa."
Los Angeles, Dec. 2.--[To the Editor of The Times.] I
won't positively assert that nothing in your interesting
paper has ever struck so sympathetic a spot, with me, as
"Guadaloupa's" letter in today's Times has done; but I will
assert that just at the moment I can't recall anything to
which I more vigorously cry Amen! and Amen! Being a
spinster, and a very radical one, I have a good deal of time
to ponder about this humanity, that Horace Walpole calls
comical when we only lightly think of it, and tragical when
we deeply feel for it; and one of my most earnest conclusions
is that the time will yet come when women will seek and ask
for their life partners, just as men only do now. The reason
for much of the unhappiness of the married is, as
"Guadaloupa" says, largely because of the uncleanly and man-
permitted habits of men; but also it is the result of women
being obliged to sit by and await the offer of any man who
proposes. It may not be a compliment to women that so many
of them take up with indifferent offers; but, God help us! we
all have dreams of home and children! and the per centage is
very small of women who have an assured support. But, Mr.
Editor, what I want briefly to say is, that if women ever
have opportunities to make offers of marriage, unless Los
Angeles is born again, I do not believe that there are 100
men in it who will ever fulfill their dream of home and
children.
ST. KATHERINE.
{Times, Dec. 23, 1887, p. 6}
Vassar Vexed.
Los Angeles, Dec. 21.--[To the Editor of The Times.] I
propose as my Christmas greeting to the men of Los Angeles a
question. Why do you not use the gutters of the city, if you
must expectorate, for expectoration? If gutters are for
debris and for everything dirty and filthy, even for the
results of the dirty habits of men, why not use them? A
promenade on either of the main streets of Los Angeles is
enough to sicken women forever of men, and yet so much has
been said and written everywhere upon this loathsome
subject--so many appeals have been made to men to make
themselves cleanly, decent and lovable, that I, for one, have
lost heart, and so, though still doubting, only propound my
question. If you must be repulsive in public, why not let
the results go to the gutter, rather than before the eyes and
under the feet of women?
VASSAR GRADUATE.
C) THE HEALTH SEEKERS
The movement to Southern California by those seeking to restore their
health has been expertly recounted by John Baur in The Health Seekers of
Southern California, 1870-1900. As Baur noted, many of those who came west in
the late 19th century were beyond help and, in fact, jeopardized their fragile
health by undertaking what was still a rather trying journey. For those who
were not already too far gone, Los Angeles and surrounding areas did offer a
climate that was beneficial in recovering from various pulmonary ailments.
Tuberculars were especially prominent among those settling in Southern
California before the turn of the century.
At the Times several members of the staff were health seekers. Charles
Holder, Charles Lummis, Charles Willard and Harry Chandler came in the 1880s,
partly to restore their health. As noted earlier, several of Willard's doctors
followed him west, either for their own health or to participate in the booming
health care business.
Facilities to care for those in need sprang up in various Southern
California locations. The fifty-four room Sierra Madre Villa, attested to by
Emily Mayberry, was established in the mid-1870s on a 500-acre estate at the
foot of the San Gabriel Mountains east of Pasadena, near what is now Sierra
Madre. When the State Board of Health selected Sierra Madre as the best
location for a state sanitarium for consumptives, though it was never built,
invalids sought out that area as one of their primary destinations. Frederick
M. Shaw {see chapter entitled "Crazy Shaw"} had grandiose plans for building
his own sanitarium in that city.
{Times, Jan. 29, 1887, p. 2}
A BOOM FOR THE INVALIDS.
Alhambra, Jan 24.--[To the Editor of The Times.] If
real estate were 2 bits a mile, I could not buy a rod;
consequently, I have none for sale, but I have a very tender
spot in my heart (not for sale, however) for that
unfortunate, unwanted, no-place for class of persons, yclept
invalids. Given the unknown quantity of this "Porterhouse"
portion of my anatomy, I have arrived geometrically, through
infinite angles and circles, at the belief that you would,
perhaps, allow me to make a short statement in your valuable
journal, as thereby, in view of its large circulation, it
might come under the notice of more unfortunates, and, what
is more to the purpose, be the more readily credited. I have
been suffering two years with bronchitis, and came to the
Sierra Madre Villa two weeks ago. Have not coughed once
since the second day, and not over six times in all since I
came. Observe, this is a simple, fringeless fact. I have
been waiting 15 years for an opportunity to find somebody
somewhere to whom I could give a testimonial from something,
somehow, some way, and now--Eureka! Anywhere in this part of
the State is just as near heaven as any person has any right
to expect, or ought to be; but I wish to say to all who have
any throat or lung trouble, that if there is any further
chance for them in this world, it lies right here at the base
of these mountains, and not in Italy. Nevertheless, they
should exercise a modicum of common sense, and not expect
that six weeks, or six months, in many cases, is going to do
satisfactory work; but that it will do it if, as I said
before, there is any chance, you may be fully assured. Those
who know me are surely aware that the playful persistency of
the ancient Doges of Venice could not thumbscrew a statement
out of me unless I knew from personal experience it was an
undraped truth.
Therefore, relying also on the well-known integrity of
The Times, I trust my unfortunate compatriots will accept
this from their esteemed contemp, without an affidavit.
EMILY GRAY MAYBERRY.
Looking back on the era of health seekers, John Baur wrote in 1959 that
"excessive exercise probably killed more than the praiseworthy climate saved."
Invalids were advised that roughing it was bad medicine for those who were in
advanced stages of chronic ailments, yet many ignored that advice and followed
the suggestion of boosters such as Will Marion, taking to the deserts or
mountains.
{Times, Dec. 4, 1886, p. 7}
Los Angeles, Nov. 30.--[To the Editor of The Times.]
Permit me to mount your forum to say a few words to the so-
called "one-lunged" Yankees and persons of a consumptive
tendency, in regard to the best manner of deriving benefit
from this climate.
In the first place, discard starched shirts. Polished
collars and cuffs, encircling, as they do, some of the most
exposed highways of the blood, are constantly sending cold
chills through the entire body. Wear woolen, if it isn't
quite so tony. You'll not need a wooden overcoat so soon.
Secondly, buy a burro, likewise a pack-saddle. If there
be two of you, buy two burros. Pack upon them plenty of
blankets, a small tent, provisions--including bacon--a
frying-pan and kindred utensils, an ax and a shotgun.
Pull out for the mountains. Put yourself on an equal
footing with the donkeys and walk. Go up Wilson's, Switzer's
or some other trail in the Sierra Madres; or the Santiago and
Silverado canyons, in the Santa Ana Mountains to an altitude
of 3000 to 4000 feet, and make camp. You will find dry wood
in abundance, and pure water, some rabbits and plenty of
quail. The quail sings a cheerful song from the frying-pan.
Have a few buckshot handy, for you may be attacked by a deer.
Select a camping-place on a hillside or mesa, where a shower
will not remind you that you have pitched your tent in a
water-course, small or great.
You will find enough to do--hunting, getting wood,
cooking, and looking after the burros. Your appetite will
surprise you. You will find bacon more palatable than the
fried oysters of civilization.
After a few weeks of this kind of life you will come
down from the mountains, un hombre nuevo, in quest of the
fellow that said you had only one lung. Your current
expenses need not exceed $12 per month. This prescription
costs you nothing. I do not wear a medical diploma or an
Aesculapian handle to my name, but I do carry around with me,
as a result of this course of treatment, 20 pounds more
corporosity than when I came here a year ago. Go thus and do
likewise.
WILL MARION.
Editor Otis recognized that Southern California was not for every one, that
two patients suffering from the same disease might not react to the climate in
a similar fashion. His evasive answer to a query about the restorative power
of the Southland for those suffering from nose and throat ailments was not what
the boosters wanted to read.
{Times, Feb. 14, 1888, p. 6}
As to Catarrh.
Los Angeles, Feb. 13.--[To the Editor of The Times.]
Will you state through your paper whether a person being
troubled with catarrh East coming here would be benefited?
This is to settle much talk about this damp climate, as
croakers call it.
MRS F. S. PARR.
[Answer.--In some cases, yes; in others, no; according
to the experience of many invalids.--Ed. Times.]
D) A MENTAL HOSPITAL IN EDEN
In Wisconsin Death Trip {1973}, Michael Lesy told the story of arson and
insanity on the bleak prairies of that state in the years following the Civil
War. Presented largely through reprints of news items found in rural weeklies,
Lesy left readers with the understanding that life in the far corner of the Old
Northwest was not quite like Little House on the Prairie.
Frontier life was especially hard on women. Separated from their nearest
neighbors by great distances and confined to a rude house and a brood of
children - or worse, none at all - farm women were more isolated than their
husbands, who worked in the fields and perhaps had the company of a hired hand.
The many barn fires recorded in the pages of Wisconsin newspapers may not all
have been caused by spontaneous combustion or the accidental overturning of a
lantern. The reader is not far into Lesy's book before reaching the conclusion
that a barn fire was an excuse to leave the prairie. Another way was to go
insane.
The rigors of life in Southern California in the 1880s did not rival that
of Wisconsin or Minnesota, but by that decade residents already recognized the
need for a mental hospital. A state hospital for the insane had been
established at Napa in 1873, and for several years it was the only such state
institution in California. While that facility was relatively convenient for
Northern California residents, its remoteness from the rapidly growing
population center in the Los Angeles basin made it unacceptable to those living
south of the Tehachapi. By the mid-1880s Napa and a newly-built second asylum
at Stockton were badly overcrowded. This was the concern addressed by Simeon
M. Metcalf, a physician and surgeon, in a letter to the Times.
{Times, July 17, 1886, p. 2}
An Insane Asylum Needed.
To the Editor of the Times--Sir: While visiting Los
Angeles, in the early part of last year, I read a number of
articles upon the needs of a hospital for the treatment of
the insane in this part of the State. As I have not heard a
word about this project since my return to California, last
November, I judge that interest in this subject is dead. It
seems to me that it is full time that the people of this
section awoke to the importance of the subject and the
demands of common humanity. Insanity is a very frequent
disease, and one which may invade any home, rich or poor,
without warning. The wealthy may be able to provide for
their friends at home, in certain forms of the malady, but
the friends of the poor must be bundled off some five hundred
miles to secure proper treatment. Why should we thus treat
our insane as we do criminals, and cut them off from all
association with their loved ones? Insanity, while
destroying the capacity for work, does not always destroy the
capacity for the enjoyments of the comforts of life.
In the majority of cases, frequent visits from friends
are a great benefit to the patient and a privilege to the
friends. Cases of sudden illness are of frequent occurrence,
calling for the presence of near relations; but in Southern
California the truly unfortunate one is sent far away,
perhaps to die, among strangers. This exile from home is
detrimental in at least two classes of cases: The fatigue of
the long journey may prove fatal to those already exhausted
by the disease, and the shock of being carried beyond the
possibility of intercourse with one's friends may be the
means of plunging certain timid, home-loving patients into
hopeless insanity. Accidents in transportation are by no
means uncommon when the hospital is far distant. It is
disgraceful to send our insane women off hundreds of miles in
charge of an officer, as we send convicts to prison. Such
patients need constant attention, and such attention as no
officer, however conscientious, is able to render. It is as
much our duty to provide for our insane near at home as it is
to establish general hospitals. An insane hospital should be
in the midst of its constituency, and within quick and easy
access. Some objection was made last year to the location of
an asylum here because it coupled the name of Los Angeles
with such an institution! Such sentimentality is a reproach
to the one who utters it. Prejudice against insane hospitals
is born of ignorance regarding them. Most people have a
natural shrinking from such institutions, but I never knew a
recovered patient to go away save with the kindest feeling
toward the hospital and its officers, and a desire to return
again with the first symptoms of a second attack. Many other
reasons--secondary ones--might be given for the establishment
of a lunatic hospital near at hand, such as the saving in
cost of transportation, the advantage to our merchants, etc.,
but I think the reasons already given are sufficient, and
that we, one and all, ought to insist upon the establishment
of a hospital for our insane in Southern California at the
earliest possible moment.
S. M. METCALF, M. D.
As noted by Henry D. Barrows, a prominent Los Angeles educator and
historian, not all residents supported the move to locate a mental institution
in Southern California. Democratic leader James de Barth Shorb was so strongly
opposed to the plan that one state senator facetiously suggested locating the
facility on Shorb's San Marino estate.
{Times, April 15, 1885, p. 2}
Sane Lunatics.
To the Editor of the Times--Sir: I do not see how
sensible people can view otherwise than with undisguised
contempt the absurd and finicky objections that have been
raised, from time to time, by sentimental persons against the
establishment of an insane asylum in Southern California. We
expect, some day, to have a State of South California, and if
we do, we will have to provide, among other things, for the
insane, for the unfortunate, and for the criminal
classes--that is, if we expect to be considered civilized.
Indeed, these things we ought to look upon, as no doubt most
of us do, as exigent necessities, whether we become a new
State or not, the ignoring of which is the merest namby-
pambyism. The sanity--or pretended sanity--that is afraid of
being demoralized, or of having its material prosperity and
social standing blighted by the proximity of insanity
anywhere in a county as large as Los Angeles, or anywhere in
Southern California, cannot be far removed from the insanity
or mental imbecility that it pretends to fear. As well might
the people of Worcester, Mass., Hartford, Conn., Philadelphia
and Pittsburg, Pa., and hundreds of other cities in the
United States, distress themselves about having asylums for
the insane located in their several vicinities. They are not
such finicky people as all that! Virile, robust communities
don't indulge in any such sentimentality. The main question
with us is not sentimental at all, but economic. Further
provision must be made somewhere, both for the insane and for
the criminals of California. As institutions for those
classes are easily accessible to the upper part of the State,
it becomes a question whether, if new ones are to be built,
it would not be cheaper in the long run (not for us
particularly, but for the State itself), to build both a
branch asylum and a branch prison in this section than to
transport all our lunatics and criminals, as is now done at
great expense, from 400 to 600 miles. This is the whole
question in a nutshell. If we are too utterly aesthetic and
sentimental to have these institutions in our midst we had
better abolish our jail and almshouse and orphan asylums and
dispatch their inmates to the upper country at once, and thus
carry out to its logical results the theory that that
benighted region is what we have been trying to make it for
more than thirty years, a sort of penal colony for this
angelic and saintly section in which we live!
H. D. BARROWS.
Among those interested in a Southern California mental facility was Gov.
Robert Waterman, owner of a San Bernardino county tract near Highland that he
wished to sell to the state for a hospital. Several nearby sites were also
tendered to the state in a region that the San Bernardino Courier referred to
as "the foothill Eden." Waterman's offer and that of Mark S. Severance, the
son of social reformer Caroline Severance {see chapter on Women}, drew sharp
criticism from Otis, who referred to those in charge of site selection as the
"Insane Commissioners." Further complicating the matter was Waterman's
appointment of Severance to the site selection committee. Echoing Otis'
criticism were "W. M." and "Justice," whose writing style and argument reads
like that of "W. M."
{Times, July 2, 1889, p. 6}
What's in the Woodpile?
San Bernardino, June 29.--[To the Editor of The Times.]
In connection with the location of the insane asylum for
Southern California it will do no harm to state a few facts
and let the public draw their own conclusions. While the
people of this county feel entitled to the institution, and
believe there are as good locations for it here as anywhere,
we are not, as a people, willing to lay aside all humane
considerations and become silent accessories to the crime of
locating it in the hottest part of the valley, and on a tract
of sandy, third-rate land.
It is currently reported and believed that the
commission has decided to purchase for the site a tract
answering this description, lying north of San Bernardino and
adjacent to Gov. Waterman's home place in Waterman canyon.
The commission, consisting of one member from each of
the five southern counties, was appointed by Gov. Waterman.
The member for Los Angeles county, Mr. M. S. Severance, is
and was known to be interested in a large tract of land
immediately adjoining the above-mentioned places.
When the commission began their search the Governor
consented to offer the State his own place in Waterman Canyon
at about $75,000. The location is a healthful one, and the
water supply is good, but the fact of its being the
Governor's own place and the noble price asked for it made so
much talk that it was withdrawn. There have been offered to
the commission at least half a dozen tracts as well-situated,
having equal advantages and less mountainous in character for
one-fourth the money.
The selection of the commissioners requires the approval
of the Governor. The building of the asylum in the sandy
wash mentioned, means that a railroad will be extended to the
immediate vicinity of the Governor's place.
With so many cool and beautiful locations at hand what
will be the verdict of the people if the welfare of the
unfortunate inmates is made secondary to the pecuniary
interests of a few men whom we call honorables?
A protest against the proposed site is now being
circulated and generally signed.
W. M.
{Times, Aug. 22, 1889, p. 6}
That Insane Asylum Site.
San Bernardino, Aug. 20.--[To the Editor of The Times.]
Having read an article in your paper descriptive of the
supposed location of the southern asylum I wish to
corroborate it.
Since your article appeared the two subservient papers
of San Bernardino, to wit, the Times-Index and Courier, have
denied the statements in your correspondent's article. Both
papers said that all the locations offered are good. This is
not true.
In fairness to all other locations (except the Waterman
and Severance location) I must say they are good, and some of
them are all that the people of the State could wish in
respect to the climate, soil and high, dry atmosphere, with
hot and ditch water taken from the best springs and ditches
for domestic and irrigation purposes. We would be glad to
see this asylum matter properly ventilated.
Some remarkable things happen. If Gov. Waterman, the
one to approve the location, and M. S. Severance, one of the
commissioners, are to locate the asylum on their land,
thereby bargaining with themselves, woe be unto the State of
California and the inmates of the asylum.
I am not a lawyer, but I know something of human nature,
when a man can make a bargain just as he would have it. As
soon as the commission came in search of a location, the
Courier, our Democratic organ, got it into its big brain
(just after the Governor had arrived) that Gov. Waterman
might be prevailed upon to sell to the State his valuable
mountain home worth $250,000 for the small sum of $75,000.
Since this article in the Courier appeared I have made
inquiry among real-estate men and old citizens as to the
value of the Waterman place, and no one values it at over
$10,000. There is quite a difference between $10,000 and
$75,000. Moreover, all the old citizens say they have often
seen the canyon from which Waterman claims water, where the
water did not run at all. It is a fact that if all the water
that rises in the canyon in summer was used with care in the
best seasons, it would not water 50 acres of alfalfa, while
the dry seasons are to be guarded against.
If the commissioners only want a location on which to
build an asylum, the Governor's home is a good one,
consisting of some 25 acres of land and water sufficient for
the same. But to talk about watering any of the Severance
land is folly, and, in the judgment of the writer, will never
be agreed to by any of the commissioners.
It is the general impression here at San Bernardino that
Waterman and Severance are trying to unload at a high price
property to the State that cannot be of any value to the
State for any purpose. The postponement has been a puzzle.
It might be for Severance to get his title clear from the
White heirs, the Supreme Court having decided in his favor.
I wish to say that the people here have not lost faith
in some of the commissioners. But you can see they have to
work against the veto of the Governor, and as Brown said to
your former correspondent, all want harmony.
Every person admits that the Waterman-Severance
proposition is far worse, and cannot be reached by rail,
while the locations most suitable are easy of access by rail,
and a road will be extended to the location as soon as
made--a distance of one or two miles from the terminus of the
Harlem and Rabel road, now at said Harlem and Rabel Springs.
Four propositions have been made in Highlands, near said
Harlem and Rabel Hot Springs, and the railroad company stands
ready to extend its road to the asylum if located at
Highlands. Those Highland propositions all offer the same
inducements, which is land, not surpassed, and an abundance
of never-failing water from the Bear Valley reservoir, north
fork ditch from the Santa Ana River and City Creek, all
never-failing streams.
Should Waterman & Co. succeed, the fire of the
indignation may burn up some of the small brush between the
twin creeks. If the Governor wants to be happy let him allow
the commission to use its judgment honestly in the selection,
and its conscience will be at ease, and all the people of
this county will say: "Well done, good and faithful
servants."
JUSTICE.
In the end the site selected in 1889 was the 300 acre Harlem tract at
Patton, near the present-day community of Highland, where it remains today.
The facility opened in 1893 and by June, 1894, the number of patients had
reached 311. Within a decade the population was nearly 800, though that was
only half the number at either Napa or Stockton.
Democratic Governor James H. Budd vetoed the legislature's appropriation
for the maintenance of mental hospitals in 1895, citing care of the insane as
one of the unnecessary extravagances of state government. {The funding was
later restored.} He further charged that a large number of the so-called
patients confined in state asylums were not legally entitled to a home in those
institutions.
The Governor seemed to share the prejudice against mental hospitals and
their patients that Metcalf and Barrow referred to in their letters. That
prejudice and the use of mental patients as the butt of jokes would long
continue. In the 1930s a popular brand of peanut butter in Southern
California, manufactured by the "L. A. Nut House," depicted a grotesque and
ranting cartoon-like inmate, behind bars, on its logo.
E) THE SICK AND THE DEAD
Located at a site known to later generations as County-U.S.C. Medical
Center, the first county hospital opened in 1878 as a combination hospital and
almshouse for the indigent. With a capacity of one hundred residents in 1880,
the facility included a forty acre farm manned by the "inmates," as J. Albert
Wilson called the residents in his 1880 history of Los Angeles County.
Wilson noted that the actual cost to the county for each inmate for food
and medicine, "including even necessary liquors," did not exceed $5.50 per
month. That frugality drew a response from "An Eastern Observer" who compared
the amount of money spent on patients with that spent by the city on convicts.
{Times, Feb. 16, 1882, p. 2}
The Greater of These is Charity.
Editor Times: In looking over your issue of the 12th
inst. my attention was engaged by the following items
contained in the report of the Superintendent of the
hospital:
Paid for provision and medicines..................$279.31
Paid for salaries................................. 278.33
Cost per day per patient.......................... .39 1/2
Or if we deduct amount paid for salaries then we
have cost per day per patient................... .20
Perhaps this may help to explain the following:
Total treated during month ...................... 70
Died during month................................ 8
About twelve per cent for the month. In the same issue
it is to be noticed that the city contracts to pay fifty
cents per day for feeding the prisoners confined in the city
prison, or the criminal is to be treated two hundred and
fifty per cent. better than those whose only crime is
sickness and distress.
Surely Los Angeles has need to boast of her charity,
else that there was any shown might be doubted by
AN EASTERN OBSERVER.
Los Angeles, Feb. 13, 1882.
Had he not been a former Chaplain in the U. S. Army, Darius Crouch might
have drawn the scorn of tightfisted taxpayers when he penned this 1886 letter
applauding the work of Dr. Walter Lindley and the county hospital. Surely
welfare reformers a century later would argue that Crouch took advantage of the
county's generosity when he checked into the hospital for a three week stay at
taxpayers' expense in late 1885. From his description of the facilities and
the care provided, conditions must have improved vastly since the criticism by
"An Eastern Observer" nearly four years earlier.
{Times, Jan. 21, 1886, p. 2}
The County Hospital.
To the Editor of the Times--Sir: The chief object of
this communication is to speak of your "County Hospital" in
contrast with various other hospitals in which I have had
large experience as an assistant and overseer, in charge of
government hospitals during the late war.
I am from St. Louis, Mo., and, having received a
fracture of the skull in 1861, while chaplain in the army,
which paralyzed my whole nervous system and prostrated all my
physical energies, I came here to enjoy warmer climate,
recruit my strength, and if possible regain my physical
energies and get rid of those long, dreary, bitter cold
winters which invariably prevail there. But I came with a
limited amount of money, expecting to find light employment
which could sustain me, but finding none I sought for a
friend, who came here last spring with plenty of money, and
who told me if I came and needed any he would give me all I
wanted. In trying to find him I spent all the money I had
before I ascertained he had left the city and could not avail
me.
Finding myself without money, in the midst of strangers,
fatigued with a long journey and worn down with inexpressible
anxiety and disappointment, my physical debility greatly
increased. On the advice of an estimable lady at whose house
I had been hospitably entertained, until she broke up house-
keeping on account of ill-health--on her advice and the
hospitality of your worthy Superintendent, Dr. Lindley, I
took a three-weeks' residence at your County Hospital.
On entering the institution, I was surprised to find
everything in such excellent condition. All the wards and
halls are kept as clean and nice as any parlor. No spitting
on the floors, or dirt allowed to accumulate in any corners,
and the wards are swept and dusted every morning, and floors
washed twice per week, every berth supplied with clean linen,
and a towel every Sunday morning, a sink and water for
washing convenient to every ward. Preaching by various
ministers on Sunday afternoon. Provisions for the table are
of the best quality, and for each meal well prepared and
properly cooked, which argues well for the cook. Meat of the
best quality is given twice per day, a change of food at
every meal, tea and coffee good, butter of good quality is
occasionally furnished, and better bread could hardly be made
than that put upon the table in ample supply at each meal.
All have all they want to eat and a surplus remaining, which
is added to the next meal, and hence little waste in the
kitchen.
Dr. Lindley seldom misses a day but that he visits every
ward personally, administering to the sick and helpless,
giving explicit directions to the steward and nurses, and
frequently inspecting the entire premises. Other physicians
are in frequent attendance and the sick and helpless are
carefully attended to. The steward and his assistants are
intelligent, competent and efficient, and less coercion is
required to control the inmates than most other hospitals.
I see no turbulent or refractory element, I hear no
complaint of the lack of food, medicine or attention. All
seem to be a "happy family" of dependent individuals. In
short, the institution as a whole is superior to any
charitable institution I ever visited.
I have deemed a public statement of these facts as due
not only to the citizens at large, but to the proper
authorities that they may feel assured that the object of
their charity is being well accomplished. Respectfully,
DARIUS CROUCH.
(Formerly Chaplain in the Army).
Los Angeles, Jan. 4th.
Protecting the sick from medical malpractice was a major concern of both
the health professionals and the public at large. Dr. Henry Lathrop
explained the danger of permitting unlicensed practitioners, politely called
"irregulars" by some, "quacks" by others, to minister to the ill. Writing
three years later, "Medico" clearly depicted the scope of the problem as it
existed in 1889. If their reasoning was not sufficient, "A Regular,"
responding to "Medico," put it in terms that the average Angeleno could
understand even if Otis seemed a little unsure of the writer's intent.
{Times, June 12, 1886, p. 2}
"Five Unknown"
To the Editor of the Times--Sir: The above words are
taken from the report of the City Health Officer, who, in
summing up the month's deaths, reports that five persons died
from "unknown causes."
"Five unknown!" How did they meet their end? Were they
shot, stabbed, strangled or poisoned, or did they die from
the malpractice of some Chinese or other quack? Were they
"unfortunates, weary of breath?" Were they victims of the
abortionist--were they the prey of malignant or contagious
disease?
Was the cause of these five deaths, or any one of them,
concealed, in order to prevent a "scare," and thus injure the
reputation of this city as a health resort?
The five persons who died last month from "cause
unknown" may have expired from any one of the above, and the
city authorities are none the wiser. It is the duty of the
Health Officer, when reports of deaths are not accompanied by
the proper certificate, to at once notify the Coroner that an
inquest may be held and the cause of death fully established.
The reason for this is plain; first, prevention to
crime, and second as a stop on the spread of contagious
diseases. In five cases in May, this course was not pursued.
Why not in ten this, and twenty next month? Or, why have any
certificate of death required?
Anyone who has seen a sick person a few times may make
return of the death and sign the certificate. Many such will
be found on file in the Health Office. Then it would save
printing and stationery, and the time of the health officer.
I do not wish to attack or blame Dr. Baker, because, under
the existing system, his hands are tied.
The very fact of his being obliged to ask the Council if
he should accept death certificates issued by Chinese quacks
shows his position to be a peculiar one, and his freedom to
exercise his own common sense extremely limited.
If no death certificates were accepted but those issued
by physicians legally empowered to practice medicine and
surgery, it would do much to prevent crime, lessen the
liability to contagious disease, and materially aid in
getting rid of some dozens of quacks.
HENRY B. LATHROP, M. D.
Room 4 and 5, Schumacher Block,
Los Angeles, June 9, 1886.
{Times, April 22, 1889, p. 3}
Regular War on the Irregulars.
Los Angeles, April 20.--[To the Editor of The Times.]
In a recent issue of your paper I noticed an article which
stated that the regular physicians of this city were about to
instigate proceedings with a view to suppressing 113
irregular, unlicensed practitioners of medicine in this
community. Now why should the expense and work of such
prosecution be borne only by the regular, respectable
physicians? As a rule, medical men are poorly paid for their
services. It is expected of them that they give at least
one-half of their time to charitable work--and the payment of
their bills is always deferred until every other obligation
is settled. What is, or should be, of more interest to the
public--what of more vital importance then that the man to
whom they intrust their health, happiness, nay, lives, should
be an honest, competent, practitioner of the art he pretends
to practice, and that such is the case is shown by the
enactments of very efficient laws by our legislature,
regulating most satisfactorily the practice of medicine; but
there is no one to inform them.
The officers of the law and the public sit calmly by and
allow 113 charlatans to practice upon the credulity and
confidence of our people. The sick man, looking for
somebody, or anybody, who will promise him hope and healing,
is easily gulled and duped by the cancer quack, consumption
cure, blood doctor, electrician, etc., etc.
Heretofore, if anything has been done, the respectable
physicians of all schools, homeopathists and regulars, have
combined and fought this common evil, not so much because
they were injured financially (for most of the patients, if
they survive the quack treatment, come back to some regular),
but from a higher motive--to rid an honorable profession of
the odium of sheltering such blights upon the community. And
even in this good work the cry of "jealousy" has been raised
against us by the adherents of these bloodsuckers.
In San Francisco the two county medical societies
(regular and homeopathic) have both expended thousands of
dollars in this work, and to a good purpose. But, as I asked
before, why shall the physicians stand the expense alone,
when the public is a much more interested party?
The laws of the State upon the subject are clear and
explicit. They require any person wishing the privilege of
practicing medicine or surgery to hold a diploma from some
reputable medical college. Such diploma must be presented to
the State Board of Medical Examiners for inspection. If they
discover fraud or find the medical college which issued it
not up to the standard of excellence required, they can
reject it. If they are satisfied that the holder is in all
respects, as to knowledge, ability, etc., eligible, they
issue to him a license to practice in this State, which
license the doctor must record with the County Clerk in
whatever county he locates to practice. Now, it seems to me
that there should be proper officers to see that no physician
does practice in any community unless he does so register his
diploma with the County Clerk.
When a man peddles tins, fruit, or sells jewelry on some
street corner, the fact as to whether he has a license is
soon investigated by an officer of the law. But 113
unlicensed practitioners of medicine can do business in the
city of Los Angeles unmolested--113 charlatans, cancer
quacks; electricians, mind-cure fakirs, etc.--are gulling,
duping, extorting money under false pretenses of ability to
cure, and no one to enforce the law, unless the regular,
respectable physicians put their hands into their pockets and
raise funds to protect the public at large. The
responsibility rests somewhere.
There is many a case of death, many an instance of
malpractice (for with 113 irregular practitioners they must
occur daily) where a person is made miserable for life, to be
laid at somebody's door. Where does it belong?
MEDICO.
{Times, April 22, 1889, p. 2}
SOMEWHAT OBSCURE.
Los Angeles, April 19.--[To the Editor of The Times.]
In response to an article written in your valuable paper this
morning, regarding the prosecution of charlatans or quacks,
would it not be feasible for the law-abiding people to assist
in the extermination of this two-legged vermin which infest
our Angel City? Surely it is of as much importance to the
laity in general to know whom they employ for the safety of
their well-being, as also the protection and honesty of
preserving our honor and good name.
A REGULAR.