Ambassador Hotel, 9:45 am, Sept. 13, 2006
The tractors are busy at the Ambassador site, clearing out the grassy field that was once in front of the building.
I've really enjoyed your Ambassador Hotel blog. I live about 10 feet from the hotel property, so I've been very interested in what's happening there, and your site has been a source of much useful info.
Thought you might be interested to know: after a couple months of silence, the bulldozers have been back to work there for the past three days (they showed up on Saturday morning, and continued on Monday and Tuesday). They're not doing anything to the building itself (what's left of it), but they're hard at work digging up portions of the property behind the building.
Does this renewed activity signal anything important? (for example, are they gearing up to start working on the school?) Useful intel has been hard to find.
The two unmarked metal bins sitting in a storage lot in Los Angeles' garment district hold artifacts from one of the most shocking events in modern American history: equipment and fixtures from the pantry where Robert F. Kennedy was fatally wounded June 5, 1968.
The 29 items from the now-demolished Ambassador Hotel, including chandelier lights, wainscoting and the ice machine behind which assassin Sirhan Sirhan may have hid, face an uncertain fate.
Are they really the stuff of history? Do they enhance national memory? And what is to be done with them as school officials prepare to build a campus on the former hotel site?
As with anything connected to assassinations and the Kennedys, answers do not come easily.
Some preservationists contend the collection should be used in a re-creation of the pantry at the school. Some historians want the artifacts given to a museum or library for permanent safekeeping. The Kennedy family wants all of them destroyed and kept out of the hands of ghoulish collectors.
On the morning of June 5, 1998, I purchased two sets of white flowers. I decided to try to put the flowers on the property of the Ambassador Hotel. So from Wilshire Boulevard, I walked up the drive to the parking lot and asked the parking lot attendant, who was at his booth, if I could g on the Ambassador grounds and put my flowers down. To my amazement, the parking lot attendant said to me nicely, "Go ahead."
I walked from the parking lot area to the front of the Cocoanut Grove entrance. I then put one set of white flowers on the lawn and took pictures... I noticed that the front doors of the Cocoanut Grove were open, and I decided to go inside. (You will notice, in my pictures, that there were vans and people were unloading them for making films at the Ambassador. I laid down the second set of white flowers on the floor in the Cocoanut Grove.
I felt lucky enough for this experience, and left the Ambassador grounds without a hassle.
Unsolicited Tribute from a Great American Author
"The Ambassador, with its own gay streets of shops, a theatre and restaurants and the world-famous 'Cocoanut Grove" is believed by some to be only another magnificant hotel, but it's much more... it is a three-ring circus of indoor and outdoor amusements in a layout filled with happy conceptions."
-- Gouverneur Morris
For the past four years I have worked near the site of the famous Ambassador Hotel, beloved Los Angeles landmark. In 2001 the Los Angeles Unified School District bought the site to build a new school, with the plan to demolish the entire historic structure. This prompted a lawsuit by the Los Angeles Conservancy, which was settled in 2005, clearing the way for the demolition of most, but not all, of the structure.
When I learned of the settlement, I began photographing the demolition for posterity. These images will be donated to the Conservancy for use in future preservation efforts. “Don’t let this happen to your historic building,” will be the message. What follow are my favorite of hundreds of images I took for this project, The Death of the Ambassador.
Staffers at the Archdiocese of Los Angeles—in the office building at 3424 Wilshire—just heard a loud crash outside. They ran to the window and saw that a crane had torn the front off the old Cocoanut Grove, the last part of the Ambassador Hotel still standing. An email concludes: "Gee, not much left to preserve now."
The loveliest tribute came from Carlyn Frank Benjamin - daughter of one of the Ambassador's first caretakers, and a 16-year resident of the hotel from the time it opened in 1921: "I'd always hoped the old girl would put on some new clothes and some comfortable shoes and some rose-scented moisturizing lotion, and that she could have had a new lease on life. ..."
And then she conjured the image of the Ambassador's ghosts rising up, filtering up through the debris and inspiring the LAUSD students who will occupy the school soon to be built on the site.
If that can happen, the death of the Ambassador won't have been a huge waste.
Benjamin lived at the Ambassador between 1921, when it opened, and 1938. Her father, Ben Frank, managed the hotel and her grandfather, Abe Frank, was the hotel company's vice president and the person she credits with creating the palm-decorated Cocoanut Grove. She likes to point out that she and the hotel were born five months apart.
"The Ambassador and I are the same age. Except I'm still here," the 84-year-old Brentwood resident said Tuesday as she gazed sadly at the remains of what many consider the symbol of Los Angeles' golden era.
Tonight, Benjamin will be among hundreds who are expected to gather across Wilshire Boulevard from the hotel site for a wake that will commemorate its role in defining Los Angeles' popular culture.
But when the stories are swapped, none are likely to be as vivid as Benjamin's.
As a young child, she roamed the grounds, building castles in the hotel golf course's sand traps.
The pastry chefs whipped up a giant chocolate cake for her third birthday and Josephine, the hotel organ grinder's trained monkey, showed up to entertain her and her friends.
As she grew older, Benjamin learned to swim in the hotel's pool, practiced marksmanship on its rifle range and explored every nook and cranny of the 500-room resort.
She cajoled staff members into saving so many hotel newspapers for 3rd Street Elementary School's annual paper drive that her class won the collection contest every year. After school each day, she had snacks in the Ambassador's Fountain Room cafe. In the lobby, she regularly encountered royalty and celebrities.
She met pilot Charles Lindbergh there shortly after his pioneering 1927 transatlantic flight. She considered Hollywood movie impresario Sid Grauman, who was a hotel resident, an unofficial uncle.
Gossip columnist Walter Winchell lived next door and his young daughter was a friend of Benjamin and her younger sister, Jackie Schwartz, now a Santa Ana resident.
"The elevator operator would let me practice running it when no guests were in it. I'd go from the basement to the sixth floor — we'd bounce around until I got it level at each floor," Benjamin said.
Also involved is Michael Schneider, a 32-year-old Variety writer who chronicled the Ambassador's final days on a website that attracted worldwide attention. "The hotel symbolizes the glamorous old Hollywood and Los Angeles that my generation never got to experience firsthand," Schneider said.
I drove down Wilshire this am (Thursday Jan. 26) and was shocked to see an empty cement pole in front by the sidewalk. I parked, took my camera, walked over and saw that beautiful Ambassador sign on the ground, in the drive way!
I felt so bad that I couldn't even take a photo of it. I'm glad I got lots of photos while it was still in place--at the top smiling out on Wilshire Blvd. where it belongs. Where do you suppose they'll store it? I think even CoCo (Coconut Grove) looks sad.:(
Against the wishes of the Kennedy family, the pantry equipment from the mostly demolished Ambassador Hotel is being packed up instead of destroyed. Now school officials, who bought the vacant hotel in 2001 to make way for new classrooms, are saddled with the question of what to do with the remnants of the tragic spot in American history.
The Kennedys fear that the fixtures - including a food-warming table, an ice machine, wainscoting and ceiling lights - could end for sale online as morbid souvenirs. Several pieces that are purported to be from the landmark hotel are already being offered over the Internet.
A Los Angeles Unified School District advisory panel concluded the pantry had no historical significance and urged the school system to get rid of it. But the district is legally bound to preserve the items under the demolition plan approved by the school board, said district spokeswoman Shannon Johnson-Haber.
According to Paul Schrade, a Kennedy family friend who was wounded in the June 1968 assassination, Superintendent Roy Romer promised one of the senator's sons that the district would dispose of the pantry.
"The agreement was to get rid of all of it," said Schrade, who said he attended a meeting where Romer gave that assurance to Maxwell Kennedy, the assassinated senator's son. Kennedy fears that if the items are not destroyed, "this winds up on eBay," Schrade added.
Glenn Gritzer, the former school official who worked most closely on the Ambassador project as a special assistant to Romer, said the superintendent was expressing a personal desire, not a guarantee.
Because of legal restrictions, "the superintendent can't just wake up one morning and say, 'Boom, it's gone,"' Gritzner said.
With the demolition of the Ambassador Hotel wrapping up last week, the Los Angeles Unified School District has started the process of selecting artwork to grace the new schools complex that will occupy the site. The district wants original pieces that depict the history of the Ambassador Hotel within the context of Los Angeles from 1921 to 1968.
Corinne Weitzman, an art consultant hired by the school district, said plans are being worked out as to how many pieces will be on the new campus. "It really depends on the response we get and the proposals that come in," she said.