John is a history detective who digs beneath the legends, folklore, and myths to learn what’s either been hidden from the common narrative or else lost to time, in hopes of enlarging the collective understanding of our culture and communities.
A snapshot history of the Steiger Building at 132 Petaluma Blvd. North
The Steiger Building may be the oldest building on Petaluma’s Main Street. Built in 1856 by Capt. Palmer Hewlett, commander of the Petaluma’s early militia, the Petaluma Guards, the two-story brick building was erected on the north side of the town’s first general store, Kent, Smith & Coe, which opened in 1852.[i]
Throughout the 1850s and 1860s, the storefront housed a series of groceries and dry goods, beginning with Elder & Hinman’s Dry Goods.
The upstairs floor initially served as the Petaluma Reading Room, a literary center where subscribers could read newspapers and journals from around the world, as well as books of philosophy, history, theology, romance, and poetry.[ii]
In 1870, the building became occupied by three tenants who would remain for more than two decades, Scottish photographer George Ross, German gunsmith Wilheim Steiger, and Czech Jewish tailor Charles Kubie. All three had been in business elsewhere on Main Street since the mid-1850s.[iii]
After Wilheim Steiger died in 1878, his son Peter took over the store with his own two sons, Joe and Bill. Rebranded Steiger’s Sporting Emporium, it became a local hub for anglers and hunters, and beginning in 1881, headquarters of the Petaluma’s Sportsman Club, which maintained a rod and gun club and game preserve along the river south of town.
The Steigers purchased the building in 1894, turning their shop into something of a technological innovation center. One of the first telephones used in the city in the late 1870s was developed at Steiger’s, connecting the store with the Steiger family home on Second Street. The store also introduced the first pumpguns and automatic revolvers in town, as well the first Victorola phonograph.[iv]
The young Joe Steiger became a transportation trailblazer, selling the first safety bicycles in town in 1892, the first autos in 1902, and establishing the first auto livery, or taxi service, in 1907. He also began offering Indian Motorcycles at the shop in 1908.[v]
In 1902, the tailor Kubie retired, providing the Steigers with the entire first floor, which they extensively remodeled, exchanging the brick storefront with plate glass windows to display their wares. They also installed an iron front cornice on the front of the building, adding their name at the top. In 1905, the Steigers expanded the back of building by 50 feet to open the city’s first auto repair garage, accessed via Water Street.[vi]
Joe Steiger took over the store after the deaths of his father in 1907 and brother in 1912. He himself died in 1924, along with his best friend, city councilman and contractor Hugh McCargar, while the two were bass fishing aboard a boat that capsized on the Petaluma River.[vii]
In 1928, the Steiger Building became the new local headquarters of the California Water Services Company, which had recently purchased the Petaluma Water and Power Company. After the City of Petaluma purchased the water company in 1959, the storefront was occupied by Century 21’s Petaluma Realty until 1997. The upstairs featured a rotating number of tenants including the Camp Girls Center.[viii]
Since 2007, the storefront has been home to the Riverfront Art Gallery. The upstairs was occupied by Murray Rockowitz Photo Studio for more than 20 years until 2018.[ix]
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FOOTNOTES:
[i] “Worked on Original Building,” Petaluma Courier, April 15, 1902; “Fire Bell,” Sonoma County Journal, December 25, 1857; “Real Estate Petaluma,” Sonoma County Journal, January 28, 1859; “Death of Major Hewlett,” Petaluma Courier, January 8, 1896; Munro-Fraser, History of Sonoma County (Allen, Bowen & Co, 1880), pp. 260-261.
[ii] “The Work Goes Bravely On,” Sonoma County Journal, February 20, 1857; “Petaluma Reading Rooms,” Sonoma County Journal, January 16, 1857; Ad for Elder & Hinman’s, Sonoma County Journal, March 20, 1857; “Dr. Miles Hinman,” Petaluma Courier, May 25, 1897.
[iii] “Removed,” Petaluma Argus, July 30, 1870; “A Card,” Petaluma Argus, October 15, 1870; “For Rent, Petaluma Argus, August 13, 1870; Munro-Fraser, p. 587; Ad for Steiger’s Gunsmith shop, Petaluma Argus, December 27, 1878 (note: established 1858);“On the Move,” Petaluma Argus, December 3, 1870; “Will Make Improvements,” Petaluma Courier, January 27, 1902; “Charles Kubie Dies at Age of 90 Years,” Petaluma Courier, July 9, 1919; “Remains Removed to the Family Home,” Petaluma Courier, July 9, 1919.
[iv] “Sportsmen’s Club,” Petaluma Courier, June 1, 1881; Petaluma Sportsmen Club,”Petaluma Courier, December 21, 1881; Ad for Victor Talking Machines at Steiger’s,” Petaluma Argus, March 30, 1905, “Mrs. P.J. Steiger Enters Last Rest,” Petaluma Argus, January 27, 1926; “Walter H. Dado Buys The Jos. Steiger Sporting Goods Store on Tuesday,” Petaluma Argus, December 10, 1924;
[v] Ad, Petaluma Courier, January 28, 1892; “The Pesky Thing Would Note Drink,” Petaluma Argus, September 17, 1902; “Two new Automobiles for Petaluma People,” Petaluma Courier, October 31, 1903; “Briefs,” Petaluma Argus, April 23, 1907; “Sold Two Indians,” Petaluma Courier, June 13, 1911.
[vi] “Briefs,” Petaluma Courier, April 12, 1902; “Will Make Improvements,” Petaluma Courier, January 27, 1902; “Briefs,” Petaluma Courier, April 9, 1902; “Steiger’s New Building a Big Improvement,” Petaluma Argus, July 27, 1905.
[vii] “Jos. Steiger and H.S. McCargar Lose Lives,” Petaluma Argus, June 9, 1924.
[viii] “Water Company in New Office,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, February 1, 1928; “City Carries Off Water Finance Deal,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, September 2, 1959; “Realty Firm Goes to New Quarters,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, January 5, 1962; “Fictitious Business Name Statement,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, February 3, 1976; “DDT Ban Allows Continuing Bat Problem,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, July 26,1978; “Century 21 Offices Merge,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, February 21, 1997.
[ix] Ad for Acorn shop, Petaluma Argus-Courier, April 21, 1999; “A Cooperative Gallery, Petaluma Argus-Courier, October 10, 2007; “Revamp for Historic Building,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, March 21, 2019.
In this video presentation sponsored by the Petaluma Historical Museum and the Sonoma County Library, historian John Sheehy explores how a diverse community of Jewish, Chinese, and Swiss Italian immigrant merchants made Petaluma’s Main Street such a bustling melting pot in the 19th century.
Real Main Street Video Presentation, Part II
Part II of the series explores the early Irish, Black, and German communities.
A snapshot history of the Phoenix Building at 119 Petaluma Blvd. North
Buildings may stand as testaments to time, but like clothing and hair styles, they are also prone to makeovers. Such was the case with Main Street’s Fritsch & Zartman Building.
Originally constructed in 1852 by John Fritsch and William Zartman as a one-story blacksmith and wagon-making shop, it became a storefront rental after Fritsch and Zartman moved their shop to Western Avenue in 1861.[i]
For almost 30 years, their two tenants were a dry goods store operated by Thomas Gilbert and a stationary store operated by Philip Cowen. In 1884, Fritsch and Zartman decided to join the Italianate architectural craze sweeping the city, and remodel the building, adding a second story and ornate iron front face.[ii]
In the late 1890s, Gilbert’s store was replaced by The Racket, a dry goods store owned by Ira and Henry Raymond, and Cowen’s store by Frank Atwater’s Stationary Store. In 1906, Atwater closed his store, and the Raymonds expanded into the other half of the building, renaming the store Raymond Bros.[ii
In 1924, the Raymonds retired, and their sister May assumed half of the storefront to operate a women’s clothing shop called Raymond’s. The other half was occupied by The Leader, a dry good store operated by Mose Goldman. In 1929, Raymond’s Clothing Store moved to Kentucky Street, and Goldman expanded into their half of the building.[iv]
In 1941, Goldman erected a new building for The Leader at the northwest corner of Western Avenue and Kentucky Street (later occupied by Carithers, and currently the new corporate headquarters of Amy’s Kitchen).[v]
J.C. Penney’s Department Store then moved into the Fritsch & Zartman Building from the Wickersham Building up the street (current site of Seared Restaurant), which they had occupied since 1922. In 1952, looking to modernize the building, Penney’s covered over the building’s Italianate front with a white slipcover.[vi]
In 1976, Penney’s moved to the new Petaluma Plaza shopping center at McDowell and Washington Streets. They were replaced by Marin Outdoors, which occupied the building for 13 years. Since 1998, Sienna Antiques has occupied the building.[vii]
In 2006, the building’s owners, working with Heritage Homes of Petaluma, secured a no-interest loan from the city’s historic restoration program to remove J.C. Penney’s slipcover, described by one local preservationist as “a gigantic heater grate.”[viii]
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FOOTNOTES:
[i] “William Zartman Founded Growing Holm Tractor Co.,” Petaluma Argus Courier, August 17, 1955, “Twenty years Ago,” Petaluma Argus, December 3, 1875.
[ii] “Will Build,” Petaluma Argus, March 8, 1884; “The Death of T.A. Gilbert,” Petaluma Argus, April 15, 1919
[iii] “Will Remove,” Petaluma Courier, February 8, 1895; “The Rack to Move,” Petaluma Courier, November 6, 1897; “Frank Atwater passes at Bay City,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, December 16, 1941; “A New Firm,” Petaluma Courier, January 14, 1899; “Raymond Bros. Have a Big Store Now,” Petaluma Argus, May 23, 1906.
[iv] Ad, Petaluma Courier, April 26, 1923; Ad, Cockburn & Berger, Petaluma Courier, July 8, 1923; “Notice of Dissolution of Partnership,” Petaluma Courier, February 1, 1925; “Will Dispose of Store Here,” Petaluma Argus, February 8, 1924; “Dry Goods Merger By Mose Goldman,” Petaluma Courier, February 14, 1924; “’Raymond’s Will Move to Kentucky Street Store,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, September 29, 1929; “The Leader in Great Expansion, Leases the Entire Gwinn Building,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, September 13, 1929.
[v] “The Leader—Petaluma Congratulates You,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, August 7, 1941.
[vi] “New Home of J.C. Penney Company,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, November 13, 1941; “J.C. Penney Modernizes Local Store,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, August 19, 1952.
[vii] “J.C. Penney Will Move to New Site,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 7, 1976; Marin Surplus Moving to Larger Quarters,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, October 1, 1984; “New Name for Marin Surplus,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, March 29, 1989; Marin Outdoors Closes Petaluma Store,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, January 21, 1997; Ad for antique open houses, Petaluma Argus-Courier, December 4,1998
[viii] “Downtown Group Wants to Uncover Ironfront Facing on building,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, July 25, 1995; “Facelift for Downtown Store begins,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, July 6, 2006.
A historical snapshot of 101 Petaluma Boulevard North
In 1868, grocer and grain merchant Albion P. Whitney, erected the iron-front, Italianate-style Whitney Building on the northwest corner of Western Avenue and Main Street for his new grocery.[i]
A native of Maine, Whitney first arrived in Petaluma in 1861. In 1864, he was elected to the city’s Board of Trustees (city council), where he served as president (mayor) for three terms, until being elected to the state senate in 1874. After his death in 1884, is son Arthur took over the business, operating it until 1891, when he sold the grocery to a French Jewish merchant named Achille Kahn.[ii]
In 1903, Kahn moved his grocery across the street after the Whitney heirs sold the building to the new Petaluma National Bank. In 1923, the bank merged with its affiliate next door, the California Savings Bank, renaming itself the Mercantile Trust.[iii]
In 1928, Mercantile Trust merged with the American Bank, becoming the American Trust Company. The new company tore down the Whitney Building and erected a Neo-Classical Revival building with a terra cotta finish in its place. Designed by San Francisco architects Hyman and Appleton, it expressed the temple-like style popular with bank architecture at the times.[iv]
In 1960, American Trust merged with Wells Fargo Bank, and continued to occupy the building until 1987, when it took over Crocker Bank at the corner of Western Avenue and Keller Street, and moved to that site to take advantage of its parking lot.[v]
From 1995 to 2022, the American Trust Building was occupied by Vintage Antiques. It is currently undergoing a renovation.[vi]
FOOTNOTES:
[i] “Imposing Front,” Petaluma Argus, August 20, 1868.
[ii] Munro-Fraser, History of Sonoma County (Alley, Bowen & Co., 1880), pp. 602-603; Tom Gregory, History of Sonoma County (Los Angeles: Historic Record Company, 1911), pp. 283-284; “Municipal Election,” Petaluma Argus, April 21, 1864; “A Valuable Citizen Goes,” Petaluma Argus, February 16, 1884; “Courierlets,” Petaluma Courier, November 2, 1891.
[iii] “Rumored Deal in Progress,” Petaluma Argus, May 28, 1903; “A History of the Petaluma Branch of American Trust Co.,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, July 20, 1928; “Announcement,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, December 17, 1927.
[iv] “Announcement,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, December 17, 1927; “American Trust Co. Building,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, July 20, 1928; “100 Anniversary,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, April 27, 1954; “1926 American Trust Building, http://www.chillybin.com/petaluma/wells.html.
[v] Ad, Petaluma Argus-Courier, March 30, 1960; Ad, Petaluma Argus-Courier, January 18, 1968; “End of an Era for Old Bank,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, December 30, 1986.
Bob Brunner, left, with “Diamond Mike” Gilardi, owner of Gilardi’s Corner, 1949 (photo Sonoma County Library)
On election night, June 12, 1951, the Western Avenue Rover Boys gathered in the smoke-filled back room of Bob Brunner’s insurance office in the Mutual Relief Building. Brunner, the group’s charismatic political leader, was hoping to unseat the Petaluma’s mayor in a write-in campaign. His call for eliminating the city manager’s position and returning government to the people resonated with longtime residents concerned with the city’s sudden growth.[1]
A group of merry pranksters, the Rover Boys usually met at Andresen’s Tavern next door, but state law shuttered bars on election day, a pre-Prohibition hangover when bars served as polling stations, trading drinks for votes.[2]Awaiting election results, the Rover Boys were joined in Brunner’s backroom by their political opponents, the Kentucky Street Commandos, to bury hatchets over cocktails.
Given the divisiveness of the mayor’s race, no one expected the hatchets to be buried for long—Petaluma’s future hung in the balance.[3]
Developers, armed with government subsidies for returning servicemen, had descended upon the area, buying up cheap farmland east of town and building tract homes. The city’s population, which had stood at 8,000 since 1930, jumped 20% to 10,000 within four years. Plans for a new freeway east of town attracted a swarm of speculators looking to build motels, restaurants, malls and car dealerships along its exit ramps. But shadows loomed in Petaluma’s post-war progress.
City resources were being overwhelmed, with roads in disrepair, schools in double session, water and sewage plants nearing capacity.[4] Downtown merchants reliant upon through traffic on Main Street, viewed the freeway as a death knell. Likewise, Petaluma’s two economic cornerstones, the poultry and dairy industries, were beginning to be displaced by more efficient factory farms springing up around the county.
In an effort to get ahead of the curve, the city council asked voters in 1947 to adopt a city manager form of government, pointing out Petaluma was becoming too big to be managed by part-time, elected officials with their own businesses to attend to.[5]Not everyone on the council agreed.
Mayor Jasper Woodson, manager of the Sunset Line and Twine Company, argued the change would undermine Petaluma’s democratic form of government. City officials traditionally elected by voters—the city clerk, tax collector, treasurer, chief of police, superintendent of streets, etc.—would be hired and fired by the city manager, placing too much power in the hands of one person which was an invitation for corruption.[6]
Proponents of the city manager model pointed out many communities adopted it for precisely the opposite reason—to thwart the practices of dishonest politicians.[7]Petaluma citizens first attempted to do so in 1934, after the mayor and four officials were found profiting from city contracts.
The officials—Mayor Will Farrell, councilmen Ludwig Schluckebier, George Van Bebber, Chris Riewerts, and City Attorney Lewis Cromwell—admitted to committing “technical violations of the law,” but denied any criminal intent, arguing they were merely following the customary practices of past officials.[8]
The citizens’ committee exposing their actions argued there was nothing “technical” about them. The men billed the city for goods and services under the names of their employees so as to conceal the true identities of their companies, and then approved the bills for payment as members of the city’s finance committee. The committee launched its investigation only after being stymied by the same officials in bringing charges of price gouging, sanitary violations and kickbacks against the salvage company contracted to collect the city’s garbage.[9]
The five officials quickly agreed to resign in exchange for avoiding a Sonoma County Grand Jury inquiry. A week after their resignations, they were feted at a retirement party by the “Old Guard” of businessmen who ran the city, including Woodson, then one of the remaining city councilmen.[10]
The citizens’ committee promptly petitioned the city to adopt a city manager form of government. That led to the election of a 15-member Board of Freeholders to draft a new city charter. The Old Guard succeeded in filling half of the seats on the board with allies opposed to a city manager, burying the proposal.[11]
When the referendum for a city manager resurfaced in 1947, the Rover Boys rallied to oppose it. The group initially formed in Hans Andresen’s Continental Hotel Tavern during World War II to write letters to local servicemen overseas, signing them “The Western Avenue Rover Boys.”[12]After the war, when Andresen moved his tavern to its current location at 19 Western Avenue, the Rover Boys followed, regrouping as watchdogs of city hall.
Advocates of limited government, they worshiped former president Herbert Hoover, annually celebrating his birthday with a cake party at Andresen’s. Hoover exemplified their political philosophy by vetoing several bills providing relief to struggling Americans during the Depression, in the belief that such assistance was better handled on a local, voluntary basis.[13]
Despite the efforts of the Rover Boys, the 1947 referendum to adopt a city manager form of government narrowly passed. Going forward, Petaluma’s mayor and the city council were relegated to setting city policies and the city manager to implementing them. Recruiting qualified city managers, however, proved a challenge.[14]
The first two hires quickly departed after hitting a wall of internal resistance. By the 1951 election, the office had been vacant for eight months. Taking advantage of the vacancy, the Rover Boys succeeded in placing three referendums on the ballot designed to curb the powers of the city manager.[15] The city council, however, rejected their fourth petition calling for a vote on the city manager position itself.
To keep the issue alive, Brunner picked a proxy battle with Lee Myers, owner of the L&M Drug Store in the Masonic Building, who was running unopposed for reelection as mayor.The candidate filing deadline having passed, Brunner resorted to a write-in campaign, handing out pencils inscribed with his campaign slogan: “Use this to bring the government back to the people.”[16] For Brunner, that meant eliminating the city manager position and establishing a “strong mayor” model of governance.[17]
The campaign wasn’t personal—Brunner and Myers had grown up together—but it created a schism among the Old Guard, giving rise to the Kentucky Street Commandos.[18] The mild-mannered Myers struggled to compete against Brunner’s ability to command the electorate’s attention, a talent he honed as a sleight-of-hand magician with the Egg City Minstrels, a vaudeville troupe of Petaluma business owners who performed at charity benefits throughout California.[19]
On election eve, Myers was announced as the winner by 28 votes. Brunner demanded a recount, citing fraud and vote counting irregularities. After an investigation, Myers’ winning margin was increased to 32 votes. Brunner refused to accept the final count.[20]
As a consolation, the city council offered him a seat on the planning commission. Brunner declined. “That’s a political graveyard to keep me quiet and cool me down,” he told them. “It’s like making a guy vice president.”[21]
Instead, he adopted the moniker “Petaluma’s Minority Leader,” and made himself a regular disruptive figure at city council meetings, speaking out against anything he considered government intrusion.[22] He also took up black magic, holding a solo séance each Halloween to summon the spirit of Harry Houdini for support.[23]
Despite Brunner’s loss, the three amendments restricting the powers of the city manager passed. They restored management duties to the mayor and city council, including final say in all hiring and firing decisions, and demoted the city manager to chief administrator.[24]
In the fall of 1951, Ed Frank was hired as city manager. He helped to guide Petaluma through its growing pains over the next decade, making friends with Brunner along the way.[25]That didn’t stop Brunner from trying to abolish his job.
In 1953, he made another run for mayor, this time against Vincent Schoeningh, a downtown merchant backed by the Kentucky Street Commandos. Brunner accused the city manager’s office of being a money pit, despite an audit showing the office generated ten times its annual cost in savings and new revenues. Brunner lost the race by 223 votes.[26]
In 1955, he ran for a seat on the city council, again seeking to eliminate the city manager’s position. This time he lost by only 10 votes.[27] Unable to get off his maverick soapbox, he ran again for mayor in 1957 and 1961. Despite pulling as many votes as he had in previous elections, he lost both times by substantial margins, a sign new residents weren’t joining his base.[28]
In 1959, Rover Boys founder Hans Andresen died. His son Hank assumed ownership of the tavern and shifted the Rover Boys away from politics to social activities, adopting a women’s auxiliary known as the Rover Girls.[29]
Continuing his annual séances to conjure the spirit of Houdini, Brunner blamed his failure on political interference.[30] He died after a battle with cancer in 1965, leaving his insurance business to his son, Robert A. Brunner, who in 1969 fulfilled his father’s dream of being elected to the Petaluma City Council.[31]
***************
A version of this story appeared in the Petaluma Argus-Courier, October 21, 2022.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Bill Soberanes column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, October 30, 1960.
[2]Bill Soberanes column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, September 20, 1958; Bill Soberanes column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, August 30, 1971; “Lifting of Election Day Liquor Sales Ban Didn’t Include Bars as Polling Places,” San Pedro News-Pilot, August 27, 1969; Nichol Saraniero, “The Boozy History of Voting in Bars on Election Day,” Untapped New York, November 3, 2020. https://untappedcities.com/2020/11/03/boozy-history-voting-bars-election-day/
[3] Bill Soberanes column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, April 6, 1982.
[4] “The Cost of Local Government,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, December 19, 1949; “Double Sessions? An Empty School?” Petaluma Argus-Courier, October 18, 1950; “Measures on City Ballot,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, May 21, 1951; “Census Up in Sonoma County,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 30, 1951; “Sewage Line Expansion is Up to Council,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, October 5, 1951.
[5] “New Charter Ordinance Passed to Print; Mayor Expresses Opposition,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, May 21, 1946.
[6] For and Against the New Charter,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 2, 1947.
[7] “Antiquated,” Deas Calls Petaluma’s Charter, and Urges City Manager,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 12, 1946.
[8] “Irregularities Charged to City Heads,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, January 23, 1934.
[9] “Resignation of Mayor Farrell and Two Aides is Demanded,” Santa Rosa Press Democrat, January 24, 1934.
[10] “Mayor Farrell, Four Aides, Quit Office,” Santa Rosa Press Democrat, January 27, 1934; “Petaluma Citizens Honor Retiring City Officials,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, February 3, 1934.
[11] “Citizens’ Group to Petition City Council for New City Charter,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, March 13, 1934; “Ad Opposing Approving City Manager Charter,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, May 14, 1934; “Some Election Reflections,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, May 19, 1934.
[12] “So They Tell Me,” Bill Soberanes column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, March 31, 1962; Bill Soberanes column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, February 21, 1975.
[13] “Hans C. Andresen, Wife Purchase Business Building,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, March 18, 1946;“So They Tell Me,” Bill Soberanes column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, March 31, 1962; “Bill Soberanes,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, February 21, 1975; Bill Soberanes, “Camel Enters, Spices Up Local Tavern,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, January 29, 1988; Bill Soberanes, “Birthday Cake for Ex-President,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, August 10, 1970.
[14] “New Charter Carries,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 11, 1947; “Third City Manager Will be Hired by City Council,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, September 25, 1951.
[15] “Charter Amendments Go To Sacramento for Ratification,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 21, 1951;
[16] “City Manager Type of Government Here Will Be Tested in Petition,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, April 24, 1951; “Candidates for Mayor,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 1, 1951; “The Election Results,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 13, 1951.
[17] Bill Soberanes column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, August 30, 1971.
[18] “Brunner and Myers Trade Sentiments,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, July 1, 1953; Bill Soberanes column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, April 6, 1982.
[19] “Esther B. Wengren to Wed Robt. Brunner at Quiet Service,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, November 8, 1933; “So They Tell Me,” Bill Soberanes column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, October 30, 1960; March 5, 1965.
[20] “Myers Leads by 28 votes; Brunner to Contest Election,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 13, 1951; “Mayor Wins Over Brunner by 32 votes, Check Says,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 20, 1951; “Guftason Quits Council,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, March 5, 1963.
[21] “Brunner Doesn’t Choose to Accept,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, May 17, 1954.
[22] “Myers Leads by 28 votes; Brunner to Contest Election,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 13, 1951; “Mayor Wins Over Brunner by 32 votes, Check Says,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 20, 1951; “Guftason Quits Council,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, March 5, 1963.
[23] “So They Tell Me,” Bill Soberanes column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, October 30, 1960, March 5, 1965.
[24] “Charter Amendments Go To Sacramento for Ratification,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 21, 1951.
[25] “New City Manager,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, December 20, 1951; “So They Tell Me,” Bill Soberanes column, Petaluma Argus Courier, March 7, 1960; Bill Soberanes column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, August 30, 1971.
[26] Mayor Candidate Levels Criticism,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, May 25, 1953; “The Real Facts and Figures,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 6, 1953; “Schoeningh is Elected Mayor,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 10, 1953.
[27] “King Wins Council Seat by 10 Votes,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 21, 1955.
[28] “Brunner Files for Mayor,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, April 19, 1961. “June 13 Candidates Tell Their Views,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 2, 1961; “Sixteen Candidates to Choose From,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 10, 1961.
[29] “So They Tell Me,” Bill Soberanes column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, December 24, 1957, June 24, 1959, June 19, 1960; Bill Soberanes column, Petaluma Argus-Courier February 21, 1975.
[30] “Esther B. Wengren to Wed Robt. Brunner at Quiet Service,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, November 8, 1933; “So They Tell Me,” Bill Soberanes column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, October 30, 1960; March 5, 1965.
[31]“So They Tell Me,” Bill Soberanes column, Petaluma Argus-Courier, May 10, 1965; “Putnam Wins, Bonds Lose,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 11, 1969.
A snapshot history of the Phoenix Building at 143-145 Petaluma Blvd. North
In 1855, architect Angus McKay and contractor Heber Gowen erected Petaluma’s first brick, fireproof building, the two-story Gowen Building. It was a welcome innovation at the time, given that the rest of the buildings in town were constructed of wood, and prone to fires.[i]
The Gowen Building stood for only a year before it collapsed in the middle of the night, the result of an excavation being undertaken on the adjacent for a new building being built by McKay and a new physician in town, William Wells.[ii]
Wells and McKay then combined the two lots and constructed a larger, three story brick building—the town’s first skyscraper—in the same style McKay had designed for the Gowen Building. McKay dressed the front wall in freestone from the Roblar Quarry north of town, and covered the roof with asphalt composition, making the building completely fireproof.[iii]
They named it the Phoenix Building (then spelled “Phenix”), in reference to its rising from the ashes.
The four stores initially occupying the bottom floor were S.C. Haydon’s Book Store, Bernhard & Co. Dry Goods, L. Boardman’s Hardware, and S.H. Wagener’s Drug Store. The second floor was occupied by the Metropolitan Billiard Room and handful of professional offices, including that of Dr. Wells. The third floor held three large halls occupied by the Masons, Odd Fellows, and Sons of Temperance.[iv]
Over the years the Phoenix Building hosted a rotation of clients until 1928, when George P. McNear, the city’s largest property owner, purchased the building and razed it. In its placed he hired architect Walter Singleton, who also built the Petaluma Co-operative Creamery on Western Avenue, to design a modern new building for two specific chain stores: the F.W. Woolworth, the five-and-dime store, and Piggly Wiggly, the first self-service grocery. McNear retained Phoenix as the name of the Building.[v]
In 1933, Piggly Wiggly moved out, and Woolworths expanded into the full building. They remained there until 1971, when foot traffic on Petaluma Boulevard began to be drawn away by the new malls opening along the freeway on the rapidly expanding east side of town.[vi]
For the next forty years, the building was occupied by a range of merchants, extending from the Wide World of Shoes, Teddies Discount Party Goods, the Shoe Fair, Chanticleer Antiques, the Pelican Art Gallery, and the Pick of the Litter Thrift Store.
Bliss Bridal & Black Tie has occupied the north end of the building since 2013, and Della Fattoria Bakery the south end since 2016.
FOOTNOTES:
[i] “Fall of a Building,” Sonoma County Journal, August 9, 1856
[ii] Adair Heig, History of Petaluma: A California River Town (Scottwall Associates, Petaluma, CA, 1982), pp. 63-64; Ad for William R. Wells physician in Gowan Building before the collapse, Sonoma County Journal, June 21, 1856.
[iii] Heig, 63-64; “Phenix Block,” Sonoma County Journal, July 31, 1857; “Old Business Block,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, May 9, 1941.
[iv] “Phenix Block,” Sonoma County Journal, July 31, 1857.
[v] “Phoenix Block to Be Razed to Erect Fine New Building,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, August 23, 1928; “Walter Singleton to Erect McNear Building,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, December 10, 1928; “The Woolworth Store Opening,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, April 30, 1929; Piggly Wiggly Ad, Petaluma Argus-Courier, May 31, 1929.
[vi] “Local News Paragraphs,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, December 12, 1933; “Local Woolworth Store Will Close,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, April 3, 1971.
A snapshot history of 129-133 Petaluma Blvd. North (current day Putnam Plaza)
The American Hotel was one of Petaluma’s first hotels, established in 1852 by Robert Douglass, Jr., who hired an English contractor named Charles Blackburn (the town’s future undertaker) to build it. It’s location was initially regarded as “well up town.”[i]
As the town grew up around it, it came to be the anchor of central Main Street, where it served as a landmark for more than a century, although not always in the same form.
In 1868, a fire burned down Douglass’ original wood-framed building constructed by Blackburn. In its place, Blackburn constructed a three-story fireproof building of brick. Four years later, it’s insides were also consumed by fire. Blackburn’s third and final restoration of the hotel opened in 1874.[ii]
Designed with a simple Gothic front, its three stories offered 100 rooms, a dining hall that seated 80, a well-stocked bar, a billiards room, a barber shop, and sample rooms where “drummers,” or traveling salesmen, could display their wares. Free shuttled service was provided to the train station and steamer landing.[iii]
For those traveling by horse or carriage, the American Livery was housed at the back of the hotel, in the basement floor of a building on the other side of American Alley (today’s Big Easy Music Club). A covered passage was provided to protect lady customers from rainy weather while crossing the alley to the hotel.[iv]
Up through the 1940s, the American advertised itself as a first class hotel, with a café, and a small dance hall with live music.[v] It’s two storefronts were occupied by The Tropics, a popular night club, and the Dairy Bar, a café and ice cream parlor.[vi]
In the 1950s, as the hotel transitioned like other old hotels in town to serving as a residential hotel for low-income tenants, its two storefronts came to be occupied by Lombardi’s Men’s Store and Lucille’s Apparel.[vii]
In 1966, the building was condemned by the city of Petaluma as part of its urban renewal initiative, on the grounds that a hairline crack had been discovered on its north wall. A month after the hotel’s demolition, the city expanded its new Golden Concourse through the empty lot, connecting the Keller Street parking lot with Petaluma Boulevard.[viii]
The lot sat vacant for 20 years until the city decided in 1987 to make it a pocket park in memory of the recently deceased former city mayor, Helen Putnam. Putnam Park was designed by local architect Dick Lieb.[ix]
FOOTNOTES:
[i] [1] J.P. Munro Fraser, History of Sonoma County (University of Wisconsin, 1880) pgs. 260, 487; Munro-Fraser interviewed Douglass for his history of the town (“Our County’s History,” Petaluma Courier, August 13, 1870); “Summoned Home: Death of Charles Blackburn,” Petaluma Courier, November 27, 1897; George P. Williams,” Petaluma Courier, October 19, 1899; “A Chapter of Tragedies,” Petaluma Courier, August 21, 1901; “Were Welcome Visitors Here on Thursday,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, February 3, 1927; “Douglas Came in ’50,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, August 17, 1955; Note: Adair Heig’s book, History of Petaluma: A California River Town (Scottwall Associates, 1982), p. 58, cites George B. Williams as the builder of the American Hotel. That is not supported by Munro-Fraser, nor listed in Williams’ obituary nor that of Douglass’ wife, which cite Douglass as the builder. Munro-Fraser interviewed Douglass for his history of the town (“Our County’s History,” Petaluma Courier, August 16, 1879).
[ii] “Summoned Home,” Petaluma Courier, November 27, 1897.
[iii] Ad, Petaluma Argus, April 29, 1869; Bill Soberanes, “American Hotel Landmark to Vanish,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, April 20, 1966.
[iv] Ad for American Livery Stables, Petaluma Courier, February 8, 1888.
[v] Ad, Petaluma Courier, April 29, 1934; “Dancing Hall to be Attraction at American Hotel,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, May 10, 1934; Ad, Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 14, 1934; Ad, Petaluma Argus-Courier, January 12, 1940.
[vi] “Dairy Bar in Expansion,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, Mary 23, 1944 “Intended Sale of ‘The Tropics’ is Recorded,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, February 21, 1947.
[vii] “Men’s Clothing Store to Open in Hotel,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, February 20, 1948; “Many at Formal Opening of Lucille’s Apparel,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, October 18, 1951; Bill Soberanes, “American Hotel Landmark to Vanish,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, April 20, 1966.
[viii] “Council Orders Demolition of American Hotel,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, May 12, 1966; “Blacktop Strip for Concourse,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, September 1, 1966.
[ix] “Putnam Plaza Plans,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, June 9, 1987; “Putnam Plaza Complete; Dedication Set,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, December 23 1987.
In 1853, Alphonzo Bowers boarded a steamer bound for California in hopes of restoring his health. Plagued by obsessive tendencies, the 23-year old was mentally overworked. Three days shy of his destination, he was robbed of all his money while asleep in his berth. Upon disembarking in San Francisco, he discovered a dime in his vest pocket. In a gesture of his go-for-broke nature, he flipped it into the bay, and set off for the gold mines. Two months later, he returned with a bad case of sunstroke, still penniless.1
The scenario repeated itself over the coming decades. Compulsively drawn to big dreams, Bowers pushed himself to the point of physical exhaustion, only to end up empty-handed and buried beneath a mountain of debt.
Then, just as most friends had written him off as a seedy, obsessive crank, he hit pay dirt.
In a victory hailed as a “glorious triumph of nerve, patient industry, indomitable will, and heroism,” Bowers came into sudden wealth, and found himself anointed with Luther Burbank as one of Sonoma County’s genius inventors.2
The path to Bowers’ began in Petaluma. After his retreat from the gold mines, he found employment as founding principal of town’s first common school.3 Among the most fertile and ingenious minds the town had seen, Bowers distinguished himself as a wonderful and magnetic teacher, able to get the best work out of his pupils. In appreciation, students voted to name the rickety, one-room schoolhouse at Fifth and B streets after him.4
But Bowers’ restless nature got the better of him. In 1856, as a side business, he and the school’s sewing teacher opened a millinery store, leading to bankruptcy within a year.5 Two years later, the newly incorporated city of Petaluma imposed a tax for funding construction of a new schoolhouse on the site of the dilapidated Bowers School.
Bowers took the opportunity to resign as principal and open an office as a surveyor, topographer, and civil engineer.6
Surveyors were in high demand at the time. The California Land Commission had just completed its ownership assessments of the county’s 24 Mexican land grants, and the land grant owners—most of them American speculators by that time—were busy subdividing their holdings in sales to land-hungry farmers pouring into the county.7
Bowers lacked formal training in engineering, but growing up in Maine he was known as a mechanical savant, able to fix any machine in his father’s mills. By the age of 16 he had designed and constructed his first dam.8 He spent only a few months surveying in the field before becoming obsessed with the idea of creating the first topographical farm map of Sonoma County.9
For funding, Bowers relied upon commissions form land grant owners. The frenzied pace of subdivisions however turned the map project into a time-consuming quagmire, requiring frequent revisions and driving Bowers $15,000 ($435,000 in today’s currency) into debt. Having finally exhausted all his lines of credit, in 1863 he suspended work on the map and asked the county Board of Supervisors for $5,000 as a commission on 20 copies of the map.10
In support of his request, Bowers submitted a petition to the supervisors a signed by nearly 900 prominent citizens, as well as endorsements from the county assessors, who were anxious to use the map as a means of accurately assessing farm boundaries for taxes. They expected it would generate many times its commission price in increased tax dollars.11
That prospect troubled some large landowners, who filed a legal challenge, arguing the commissioning of such a map lay with the state, not the county. The challenge came at the height of the Civil War, which split Sonoma County into two political camps—pro-Confederate Democrats in Santa Rosa and pro-Union Republicans in Petaluma. Bowers’ own political leanings as an abolitionist and a member of the Republican state central committee were well known. In 1862, he made an unsuccessful run for state surveyor on the Republican ticket.12
Bowers responded to the legal challenge by lobbying the state legislature to pass the Bowers Map Bill, authorizing the county to commission the map.13 The matter then went to the Sonoma County grand jury, which argued the map bill was a grievous overreach by Union legislators seeking to impose their will upon the county. They urged the Democratic-dominated Board of Supervisors to disregard Bowers’ requests for payment, which they repeatedly did.14
In order to earn the money to finish the map, Bowers took a state position as a Deputy Surveyor General, traveling around the state. He made frequent trips to Petaluma to finish his county map as well as pressing his case with the county for the $5,000 commission.15
In 1866, Bowers released his topographical map of Sonoma County, printing 500 copies and offering them for sale to private landowners. He also donated copies to libraries and schools, and delivered 20 copies to county officials, billing the Board of Supervisors $5,000.16
County assessors were able to immediately generate an additional $8,000 in property taxes by using Bowers’ map to determine that 16,859 acres of Knights Valley were actually located in Sonoma County and not Napa County, as previously assumed. Still, supervisors refused to pay Bowers, the vote coming down to party lines.17
Bowers sued the county for payment in a case that ultimately made its way to the U.S. Supreme Court, who decided in the county’s favor, ruling that the state legislature’s Bowers Map Bill did not impose a mandatory decision upon the county.18
Bowers refused to let the matter drop. In 1867, he published an 80-page booklet, “The History of the A.B. Bowers Map,” detailing the supervisors’ tawdry treatment of him.19 For years afterward he lobbied the state legislature to wage an investigation into the county’s handling of his request, finally succeeding in 1874 in convincing the state senate to pass such a bill, only to see Sonoma County Democrats kill it in the state assembly.20
Although his campaign against the county placed him deeper in debt, the studious Bowers received an education in the legal and legislative system that proved invaluable in his next obsessive pursuit—dredging up muck.
During the years he spent surveying Sonoma County, Bowers became intimately familiar with the Petaluma tidal slough and its adjacent wetlands extending north from San Pablo Bay. Known as the Petaluma Creek until 1959, when Congress formally renamed it the Petaluma River, the slough was Sonoma County’s primary means of transporting goods to and from the docks of San Francisco.21
California, which had been granted ownership of unsold federal marshes along the state’s waterways, began selling off wetlands on both sides of the Petaluma slough, on the condition the land be diked, drained, and reclaimed for farming or grazing so as to generate tax revenues.22
The subsequent elimination of wetlands, along with the rechanneling freshwater tributaries feeding into the slough, posed an increasing problem for using the slough as a commercial waterway. During rainy seasons, sediment from farm fields flowed into the slough, trapping ships in its muddy grasp and contributing to flooding at high tide.23 Dredging suddenly became critical to Sonoma County’s main waterway.
Dredging in the 1860s was conducted by a “steam paddies.” These were named for Irish laborers (nicknamed paddies). They, along with Chinese laborers, previously conducted California dredging by hand. The steam paddy used a clamshell or bucket to scoop up the muck and dump it into barges, to be carried away to a spoils site.24
One morning in 1864, over breakfast, Bowers had a vision of a new type of steam dredger, one that operated on hydraulics. He quickly sketched it out on a piece of paper.25 Bowers’ dredger used a rotary blade to cut up the hardened debris at the bottom of a waterway or marsh, then sucked that debris up in a long pipe that floated on the water for thousands of yards to a spoils area, where it could be used for building levees or landfill.
Despite being bankrupted by his mapping venture, three years later Bowers quit his job with surveyor general’s office to perfect a model of his dredging machine, moving between San Francisco and Petaluma, where he unveiled his first prototype in 1869. To finance it, he borrowed money and took the odd surveying job, including appointment to a board of engineers charged with remodeling the Mare Island Navy Yard in 1873.26
The U.S. Patent Office delayed processing of Bowers’ patent applications for several years. As he could not afford an attorney, he began his own study of patent laws, traveling to Washington, D.C. by train to secure his patents. Between 1884 and 1888, he was successful in obtaining 12 invention patents related to the dredger.27
By that time, rich and powerful dredging companies were building and selling hydraulic dredgers based upon Bowers’ model, making small modifications to claim them as their own. After receiving his first patent in 1884, Bowers brought lawsuits against more than a dozen dredging firms across the country.
In 1888, he won a major infringement suit against Colonel A. W. Von Schmidt of Oakland, setting a precedent that would decide his other lawsuits. The wealthy Von Schmidt tied the case up in appeals until 1897, when the district appeals court ruled in Bowers’ favor, awarding him a virtual monopoly of the hydraulic dredging machine business.28
By that time, 25 companies were using Bowers’ patented design for dredgers being sold around the world for $40,000 each ($1.4 million in today’s currency). Bowers sued them for royalties retroactive in some cases to the early 1870s. It was speculated Bowers stood to reap between $6 million and $15 million dollars ($200 million to $500 million in today’s currency).29
“The Midas touch of his genius,” wrote the Sonoma Democrat, “at last turns his ideas, wrought out in want and misery, into gold upon his bands.”30
A lifelong bachelor, the 67-year-old Bowers remained based in San Francisco, where he launched his own dredging company. He spent most of the next two decades traveling across the country as well as to Europe, Russia, Japan, China, the Philippines, and Cuba to consult on major dredging projects as one of the most respected civil engineers in the world.
He also established a reputation as something of a Renaissance man, giving talks and writing for a range of American and European journals on a range of topics, including politics, economics, sociology, religion, and poetry. In his spare time, he used his fortune to design and erect both public and private buildings.31
Bowers last visited Petaluma in 1905. Despite his wealth and fame, he still felt slighted by the county’s refusal to pay him for his Sonoma County map.32 In his eighties, he retired back in New England, where he continued to wage patent infringement battles and write articles for journals until his death in 1926 at the age of 96.33
******
A version of this story appeared the Sonoma Historian, Fall 2022.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] William Walsh, “The Story of an Inventor,” Overland Monthly, January-June, 1897, pp. 166-179.
[2] “A Pioneers Visit,” Petaluma Courier, March 4, 1905; “A Bit of Local History,” Sonoma Democrat, January 16, 1897; “Great Future for San Pedro,” Los Angeles Times, September 25, 1908; Modern San Francisco 1907-1908 (Western Press Association, University of California, 1908).
[3] Walsh, pp. 166-179; “Petaluma Library Association,” Sonoma County Journal, December 1, 1855.
[4] “Bowers School,” Sonoma County Journal, October 6, 1855 “To the Public,” Sonoma County Journal, October 30, 1857; “Early History of Our Schools,” Argus, April 13, 1922.
[5] Ad, Sonoma County Journal, April 19, 1856; “Notice,” Sonoma County Journal, February 6, 1857.
[6] Ad, Sonoma County Journal, December 24, 1858; Ad, Petaluma Argus, February 12, 1861.
[7] James Gerber, “The Gold Rush Origins of California’s Wheat Economy,” http://www.scielo.org.mx/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S1405-225320100002000; Petaluma Valley Historical Hydrology and Ecology Study.” SFEI Contribution No. 861, 2018. https://www.sfei.org/documents/petaluma-valley-historical-hydrology-andecology-study.
[9] “A Valuable Map,” Sonoma County Journal, April 8, 1859.
[10] “Bowers Map Bill,” Petaluma Argus, May 20, 1863; Walsh, pp. 166-179.
[11] “The Other Side,” Sonoma Democrat, May 16, 1863.
[12] Republican State Convention,” Sacramento Daily Bee, June 20, 1861; “Proceedings of the Republican County Convention, Petaluma Argus, June 11, 1861.
[13] “To the Supervisors and People of Sonoma County,” Petaluma Argus, May 23, 1863.
[14] “Lacked the Power,” Petaluma Argus, February 11, 1863; “The Other Side,” Sonoma Democrat, May 16, 1863 “Grand Jury Report,” Sonoma Democrat, May 16, 1863; “Bowers Map Bill,” Petaluma Argus, May 20, 1863; “Constitution Answered,” Sonoma Democrat, December 8, 1866; “Rare Logic,” Petaluma Argus, February 14, 1867.
[15] Strategy, My Boy,” The Placer Herald, June 11, 1863; “Personal,” Petaluma Argus, November 3, 1864; “Alphonzo B. Bowers,” New York Times, January 25, 1926.
[16] “County Map,” Petaluma Argus, November 15, 1866; “Constitution Answered,” Sonoma Democrat, December 8, 1866; “Among Us Again,” Sonoma Democrat, April 19, 1873.
[17] “Bowers Map of Sonoma County,” Petaluma Argus, December 13, 1866; “County Map,” Petaluma Argus, November 15, 1866; Ad, Petaluma Argus, August 23, 1866; “Bowers Map,” Sonoma Democrat, November 17, 1866; No headline, Argus, February 7, 1867; “Reply to Jess O. Squires,” Petaluma Argus, December 27, 1866; “Rare Logic,” Petaluma Argus, February 14, 1867.
[18] “Our Santa Rosa Correspondence,” Petaluma Argus, December 20, 1866; “Bowers Map,” Sonoma Democrat, February 2, 1867; “Bowers Map Bill,” Sonoma Democrat, March 25, 1876.
[19] Alphonzo B. Bowers papers, 1657-1926, San Francisco Maritime National Historical Park, Online Archive of California.
[20] “Local Brevities,” Petaluma Argus, April 3, 1874; “Bowers Map Bill,” Sonoma Democrat, March 25, 1876.
[21] “Petaluma Creek,” Petaluma Argus, December 5, 1879; Gerber.
[23] Petaluma Valley Historical Hydrology and Ecology Study.” SFEI Contribution No. 861, 2018. https://www.sfei.org/documents/petaluma-valley-historical-hydrology-andecology-study.
[24] Steam Paddy used on Petaluma Creek: “Straightening the Creek,” Petaluma Argus, February 11, 1862; David D. Schmidt, “David Hewes and His Steam Paddy Work,”www.foundSF.com. https://www.foundsf.org/index.php?title=David_Hewes_and_His_Steam_Paddy_Works
[25] “Bowers School,” Sonoma County Journal: November 3, 1855 (article notes that Bowers School was beginning its fourth term, implying the school opened in 1854, there being four terms a year then); “Our Common Schools,” Sonoma County Journal, December 18, 1857; “Our Public Schools,” Sonoma County Journal, December 28, 1860; Walsh, pp. 166-179.
[26] Walsh, pp. 166-179; Ad “Lost,” Petaluma Argus, December 4, 1869; Personal,” Petaluma Argus, June 13, 1879.
[27] A.B. Bowers Dredging Machine, patented August 21, 1888. https://patents.google.com/patent/US388253; Federal Reporter, Vol. 91: Bowers applied for patent in 1885; first patent issued on December 26, 1886; “Pacific Coast Patents,” Petaluma Argus, June 18, 1887, September 8, 1888; A Guide to the Alphonzo B. Bowers Papers, San Francisco Maritime National Historical Park, National Park Service, Online Archive of California
[28] A Guide to the Alphonzo B. Bowers Papers; “Agricultural Items,” Petaluma Argus, September 22, 1876; Washington Davis, “Hydraulic Dredger: A peculiar Story,” Overland Monthly, Volume 44, December 1904, pp. 587-592.
[29] “Millions for an Ex-Petaluman,” Petaluma Argus, January 5, 1897; “The Bowers Dredger,” Petaluma Courier, April 6, 1897; “Bowers Brings Suit,” Petaluma Courier, November 27, 1908.
[30] “A Bit of Local History,” Sonoma Democrat, January 16, 1897.
[31] “A Pioneer’s Visit,” Petaluma Courier, March 4, 1905; “Great Future for San Pedro,” Los Angeles Times, September 25, 1908; Modern San Francisco 1907-1908 (Western Press Association, University of California, 1908).
[32] “Visit Here After Years,” Petaluma Argus, March 4, 1905.
[33] A Guide to the Alphonzo B. Bowers Papers; “Agricultural Items,” Petaluma Argus, September 22, 1876; “Alphonzo B. Bowers,” New York Times, January 25, 1926.
Heman Bassett arrived in Petaluma in the fall of 1852 in search of redemption. An excommunicated Mormon elder cast “into the buffeting hands of Satan,” Bassett and his family set out across the county in an ox-drawn wagon to settle among some of the people who had earlier persecuted him for his beliefs, among them Petaluma’s founder, George H. Keller.[1]
A failed gold miner from Missouri, Keller had created Petaluma just months before, making an illegal squatter’s claim to 158 acres of a 13,000-acre Mexican land grant called Rancho Arroyo de San Antonio. After platting out the town on 40 acres, he began selling off lots from a makeshift general store he erected beside the Petaluma River on Washington Street.[2]
By the time Bassett arrived with his wife and five children, the new town was bustling with activity. Sailing scows laden with potatoes, meat, and grains plied the river to San Francisco. New settlers had erected fifty new homes of rough-hewn redwood. Main Street, laid out by Keller along a former Coast Miwok trading route, hosted a general store, a blacksmith, and three hotels.[3]
One of the hotels, the Petaluma House, located at the site of today’s Odd Fellows Lodge, was for sale. Bassett decided to put a stake down and buy it.
Situated across from the river docks where boatloads of aspiring settlers disembarked, the Petaluma House welcomed overnight guests, many looking to catch the morning stage bound for Bloomfield or Santa Rosa’s Green Valley to cash in on the potato boom, and those seeking temporary living quarters until they got established as tradesmen or merchants in town.[4]
A number hailed, like Keller, from Missouri, in fact, 20% of the 560 settlers counted in the 1850 Sonoma County census. They were most likely drawn by word of the area’s rich farmlands and mild climate from Lilburn Boggs, Missouri’s former governor.
Boggs emigrated to California with his family in 1846, after losing his merchant business in an economic depression, and also surviving a shot in the head from an alleged Mormon assassin.[5] Initially taken in by General Vallejo at the Petaluma Adobe, he settled in the town of Sonoma, where he opened up a dry goods store and became alcalde, or judicial and administrative officer, for Mexico’s Northern California territory. After the Mexican-American War, he dealt in real estate before being elected to the state assembly.[
Bassett knew Boggs from his own time in Missouri. He had moved to Jackson County, Missouri in the early 1830s with Joseph Smith, Jr., founder of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, after Smith received a revelation it was the New Jerusalem where the Second Coming of Christ would soon occur.
Just a teenager when he first met Smith, Bassett was living in a Christian socialist commune called “The Family” outside Kirtland, Ohio. Smith was accompanied by a group of missionaries on their way to proselytize among American Indians, who they believed to be descendants of the Israelites.[7]
Soon after being baptized in Smith’s new church, Bassett had a vision of being called into the world to preach. Ordained a Mormon elder at 17, he worked the circuit of Mormon revival meetings dressed as a Native American speaking in tongues. His zealous, enraptured style was described as “that of a baboon.”[8] While preparing to accompany Smith to Missouri, Bassett was called out as “a false spirit.”[9]
“Heman Bassett,” Smith told him, “you sit still. The devil wants to sift you.”[10]
Part of that sifting may have been the watch Bassett took from a Mormon brother and sold. When confronted, Bassett cited the code of community property practiced in the commune. “Oh,” he said, “I thought it was all in The Family.”[11]
Bassett was denied missionary status, but still accompanied Smith to Jackson County in western Missouri, home to Boggs, then a state senator. The influx of Mormons quickly upset the social hierarchy of older settlers in the area, including Keller, who lived in nearby Platte County. They took issue with the Mormons’ abolitionism (Missouri was a slave state), their ecstatic performances dressed as American Indians and speaking in tongues, and their fervent belief they were to inherit the the land of their enemies in Jackson County.[12]
Within a short time, Smith and his followers were driven from the county to parts of northwest Missouri, where tensions with locals continued to mount, finally culminating in the Missouri Mormon War of 1838. At the height of the war, Governor Lilburn Boggs sent 2,500 militiamen to eject all Mormons from the state,signing an executive order calling for their extermination should they refuse to leave.[13]
Forcibly driven from their homes, which were then plundered and destroyed, along with their crops and livestock, a number of Mormons died violently or from the hardship of the exodus.[14]
Bassett, along with 10,000 others, fled to Illinois, where Smith set up his new headquarters in the town of Nauvoo. After a new Mormon majority elected him mayor, the local newspaper accused Smith of polygamy. He responded by having the newspaper shut down, for which he was arrested and incarcerated. While awaiting trial, a mob stormed the jail and killed him.[15]
After Smith’s death, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints split into two camps, one headed by Brigham Young, the other by James Strang. Bassett sided with the Strangites, joining them at their headquarters in Racine, Wisconsin, where he served as an elder until 1850, when he was excommunicated for his rebellious ways.
Bassett, his wife Mary and their four children set out across the plains for California, stopping in Washoe County for Mary’s birthing of their fifth child. When they arrived in Petaluma, they found Keller and others engaged in California’s new gold rush: land speculation.[16] There was just one hitch—the land wasn’t for sale.
Squatting had become common in the American West thanks to the Preemption Act of 1841, which entitled a squatter to purchase 160 acres in the public domain, after inhabiting the land for 14 months or making improvements to it for five years.[17] But in California, aspiring settlers discovered that most of the land coveted for farming or ranching was privately held in Mexican land grants, protected by the Treaty of Hidalgo that ended the Mexican-American War in 1848.
Due to the laissez-faire legal system on the Mexican frontier, many grants were sketchy, incomplete or, in some cases, fraudulent.[18] In 1851, squatter advocates pushed through Congress the California Land Act, subjecting all Mexican land grant claims to legal review by an appointed Land Commission. Ostensibly created to bring clarity to the legal morass, the act effectively put the grants into play, opening the door to a host of American swindlers and land sharks.[19]
That included Keller, who, with the support of frustrated settlers, made his squatter’s claim to the town of Petaluma.[20] Despite the fact the claim had no legal bearing, his property sales were recorded by Sonoma County’s first recorder of deeds, William Boggs, son of State Assemblyman Lilburn Boggs.[21]
So began the Petaluma land scam, giving birth to one of California’s longest and most contested land grant disputes. Fueled by greed, exploitation, bribery, and fraud, it was a devil’s playground, one that placed Petaluma landowners in legal jeopardy for the next two decades.
Keller’s initial plat extended from the river west to Liberty Street, and from Oak Street south to A Street. In 1853, he sold off a large portion of his remaining claim to Columbus Tustin, an ambitious 26-year old from Illinois, who undertook the first extension of Keller’s development, creating a subdivision called Tustin’s Addition that ran from First to Eighth streets, and A to F streets.[22]
Stricken with money fever, Bassett purchased 40 undeveloped acres from Keller just before he departed town with his spoils for Missouri. Bassett’s Addition extended from Howard Street west to Fair Street, and from Stanley Street south to A Street, with Bassett Street laid out down the middle, adjacent to a large plaza (today’s city hall). Bassett began selling lots from his hotel on Main Street.[23]
In June 1855, the party ended when the Land Commission confirmed the claim of James Stuart, a San Francisco speculator, to the 13,000-acre Rancho Arroyo de San Antonio. Another speculator, Thomas Valentine, had filed a counterclaim which he agreed to drop in exchange for Stuart splitting his profits from rancho land sales. Two years later, Valentine sued to reopen the case, setting off 15 years of legal drama in the courts.[24]
Stuart opened a real estate office in Petaluma for residents to repurchase their property from him, regardless of whatever bogus deeds they had been issued by Keller, Tustin, or Bassett.[25]
Shortly after the Land Commission ruling, Bassett’s wife Mary sued him for divorce, settling for $5,000 ($170,000 in today’s currency). Cash strapped, Bassett forfeited his unsold sections of Bassett’s Addition and leased out the Petaluma House. A year later, he opened the Petaluma Family Grocery on Main Street.[26] It didn’t last. In 1860, he declared bankruptcy, and left Petaluma for Sacramento, to join his youngest daughter and her husband.[27]
Over the next decade, he returned to his migratory ways, settling briefly in Half Moon Bay and San Jose, where he again filed for bankruptcy, before heading to Nevada with his two younger sons to work the mines. In 1872, he reunited in Utah with a childhood companion from The Family, Lucy Celesta Stanton, who had once been married to his brother, before becoming a notorious figure in her own right.[28]
After divorcing Bassett’s brother, Stanton married a former Black slave named William McCary and started a fringe Mormon movement with him that embraced not only polygamy, but also sexual threesomes. The two traveled the countryside posing as American Indians, performing at Mormon revivals and temperance meetings in native dress, until they were excommunicated and McCary disappeared. Stanton then opened a native healing clinic in Buffalo, New York.
Just prior to reuniting with Bassett, Stanton was released from Sing Sing prison after serving nine years for an abortion she performed on a woman who died.[29]
Stanton and Bassett married and lived together in Utah until 1876, when Bassett died while on a transcontinental trip to Philadelphia for the nation’s centennial. He was 67. After his death, Stanton repented her ways and was rebaptized in the Church of Latter-day Saints. Having failed to repent his rebellious ways, Bassett was presumably cast after death into what the church calls “spirit prison.”[30]
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For more on George H. Keller:
For more on Columbus Tustin:
FOOTNOTES:
[1] “Notice,” Gospel Herald (Goree, WI), March 21, 1850; Bassett’s arrival in 1852 is confirmed by the marriage license issued on November 18, 1852, for his son Madison H. Bassett to Emily Woodward, by the California Marriage Licenses, 1850-1852, Sonoma County, and by the autobiography of his son Ralph Lowe Bassett, http://www.bassett.net/gendata-o/p15044.htm.
[2] John Sheehy, “History Mystery Solved,” Petaluma-Argus Courier, February 11, 2021; “Centennial Resurrection,” Petaluma Weekly Argus, March 31, 1876; Robert Allan Thompson, Historical and Descriptive Sketch of Sonoma County, California (Philadelphia: L.H. Everts & Co., 1877), p. 55.
[3] J.P. Munro-Fraser, History of Sonoma County (San Francisco: Alley, Bowen & Co., 1880), pp. 263; “Historical: Petaluma’s Birth and Growth,” Petaluma Courier, October 19, 1892; Munro-Fraser, p. 263.
[4] Munro-Fraser, p. 263; Ad for Petaluma House, Sonoma County Journal, September 1, 1855.
[5] “Donald Edwards, pp. 15-18; “Gaye LeBaron’s Notebook,” Santa Rosa Press Democrat, April 1, 1990; William Boggs, “Lilburn Boggs,” F.A. Sampson, ed., Missouri Historical Review, Vol. IV (October 1909-July 1910), pp. 109; Donald Edwards, “Lilburn Boggs,” Portraits of Early Sonoma County Settlers (Sonoma County Genealogical Society, 2016), pp. 15-16.
[6] William Boggs, pp. 109; Donald Edwards, pp. 15-16.
[7] Stephen C. LeSueur, The 1838 Mormon War in Missouri (University of Missouri Press, 1990), pp. 10. 17-21.
[8] Christopher C. Smith, “Playing Lamanite: Ecstatic Performance of American Indian Roles In Early Mormon Ohio,” Journal of Mormon History, Vol. 41, No. 3, July 2015, pp. 131-166; Susan Easton Black, “Heman Bassett,” Doctrine and Covenants Central. https://doctrineandcovenantscentral.org/people-of-the-dc/heman-a-bassett/
[12] Doctrine and Covenants of the Church of the Latter Day Saints: Carefully Selected from the Revelations of God, 52:42; Norman F. Furniss,The Mormon Conflict(New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2011), p. 2.
[14] LeSueur, p. 19; “The Mormon Difficulties,” Niles National Register, October 6, 1838, October 13, 1838; Smith, pp. 159-160; “The Bloody History of Mormonism in Jackson County,” NPR Kansas City, February 12, 2015. https://www.kcur.org/show/central-standard/2015-02-12/the-bloody-history-of-mormonism-in-jackson-county
[20] Adair Heig, History of Petaluma: A California River Town (Petaluma, CA: Scottwall Associates, 1982), pgs. 21, 29; “Centennial Resurrection,” Petaluma Weekly Argus, March 31, 1876; Robert Allan Thompson, p. 55.
[21] Donald Edwards, “Lilburn Boggs,” Portraits of Early Sonoma County Settlers (Sonoma County Genealogical Society, 2016), pp. 15-16; “Deeds of Sonoma County, 1847-1901,” film #008117705, LDS FamilySearch database. familysearch.org.
[22] Munro-Fraser, pp. 259-260; Sonoma County Deed Records, show two grants in 1853 from Columbus Tustin, one to Edward S, Jones, May 16, 1853, and the other to Fred Starkey, August 12, 1853, indicating that he was selling lots; the boundaries of Tustin’s Addition defined in Thos. H. Thompson, Map of Sonoma County, 1877.
[23] “Delinquent Tax List,” SCJ, November 25, 1859; the boundaries of Bassett’s Addition defined in Thos. H. Thompson, Map of Sonoma County, 1877.
[25] Ad for Office Rancho Arroyo de San Antonio, Sonoma County Journal, October 27, 1855.
[26] Ad for Petaluma House, Sonoma County Journal, September 1, 1855; “Legal Notice,” Sonoma County Journal, December 29, 1855; Ad, Sonoma County Journal, May 1, 1857.
[27] “A Card,” Sonoma County Journal, January 28, 1859; “Married,” Sonoma County Journal, January 6, 1860; 1860 U.S. Census, Sacramento; “Legal Notice,” Sacramento Bee, January 5, 1861.
[28] Ralph Low Bassett Autobiography; “Insolvent Notice,” Times Gazette (San Mateo County), October 6, 1866.
[29] Angela Pulley Hudson, Real Native Genius: How and Ex-Slave and a White Mormon Became Famous Indians (University of North Carolina Press, 2015), pp. 1-16.
[30] Ralph Low Bassett Autobiography; “Died,” Petaluma Argus, July 28, 1876; Hudson, pp. 166-169.
Penry Park was established as Main Street Plaza in January 1852, when Petaluma’s founder George H. Keller first laid out the town.
Early settlers weren’t pleased however with leaving a fallow piece of land at the heart of town, deriding it as “a waste and a nuisance.” Elected officials left the park barren for decades, with no paths, benches, trees, or water. Overrun by wild chickens, it was sarcastically called “Chicken Hill.”
The city made numerous attempts to convert it into something “useful,” including homes, businesses, a city hall, a courthouse, a high school, and a jail. In 1886, they constructed a stone wall along its eastern edge to end complaints of winter mudslides clogging up Main Street (Petaluma Boulevard North).
In 1896, the Ladies Improvement Club took it upon themselves to landscape the park with trees and paths, renaming it Hill Plaza. They maintained the park until 1911, when the city created a parks commission.
In 1929, a memorial with a cannon was erected in tribute to Petalumans lost in WWI, leading to the nickname “Cannonball Park.” The cannon was melted down for metal during WWII, and replaced by two anti-aircraft guns.
The city council persisted in their efforts to convert the park into something useful, mounting unsuccessful efforts in 1948 and 1960 to turn it into a parking lot.
In 2001, Hill Plaza Park was renamed Penry Park in honor of hometown Medal of Honor winner Richard Penry.