Quote:
Originally Posted by Flyingwedge
This undated photo is misidentified as "700 W 1st Street," but it obviously shows The Ryer and its apartment house
neighbors, the Kenneth and Fleur de Lis. At far left is 347 S. Grand:
SCWHR-P-005-N0323 at Seaver Center
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Cool post, thanks. Let me add a bit to it.
One of our trio, as you mention, is the Fleur-de-Lis. There's a nice image of her at the Seaver as well:
seavercent
It's deal—at 333 south Grand, E. P. Bryan had Joseph Cather Newsom design
a lovely shingle Queen Anne mansion, in 1888. Bryan sells the house in 1902 to HC Norris in February 1902, who sells to JE & Robert Marsh in April of 1903. The Marshes, a noted development team, demolish the house and hired Fred R. Dorn to design the Fleur-de-Lis, a "family hotel" with thirty-nine rooms, erected at the end of 1903.
Here she is, a little more downmarket, still noble (retaining a lot of elements—capitals, balcony, stuff that the Ryer had lost by the time she became the Stevens) in a 1959 Reagh:
calstatelib
The Kenneth, center, at 325 S Grand, is by W H Mohr, and built in 1905. The Ryer is also known, between being called the Ryer and the Stevens, as the Alta Cresta. From what I can tell it's also Fred Dorn, and built for RC Troger.
And at far left, 347 S Grand, is the magnificent, ill-fated
Brunson.
Here's a crop of a larger image, 1913, looking from the roof of the Zelda, obviously.
usc
Note behind the Fleur-de-Lis the rooftop pergola of the Kenneth sticking up. The Ryer/AC/Stevens would be behind that. At far left, again, the Brunson, and a bit o' rooftop spire at
355.
Now look across the street at the white gal with the four Corinthian columns. That's 312/16 S Grand and there's ALSO a nice image of her at the Seaver:
seaver
She's built, I'm guessing about 1903 and haven't discovered the architect, by contractor PJ McCormick, who built the Kenneth. (Note the two empty lots with For Sale signs next to 312-6; there goes the Palace Garage (1917, AC Martin) and the Biltmore Apts (1916, EJ Smith) like so—
getty/nadel
(similar shot
here)
Our Greek-Revival-with-Bay-Windows is where the kindly old Good Samaritan helps the little girl who's hurt her ankle, and he gets nothing but grief for it, in Losey's remake of
M: