(Los Angeles), 1924. Source:
Los Angeles Times Photographic Archive , UCLA Library
Los Angeles Times Photographic Archive , UCLA Library
Source: the article, “Lion Pants Delight Boys,” Los Angeles Times, 25 Dec 1926 and UCLA Library, Digital collections
Plans are made to Build the Lark Ellen Home for Boys with Financial support from the Sawtelle Lions Club
Courtesy of the L.A. Times Apr 1, 1923
Dedicating The Lark Ellen Home for Boys 1923
More than $10,000.00 was left to the Lark Ellen Home for boys
More than $10,000.00 was left to the Lark Ellen Home for boys by the will of Rosa D. Downs, which was filed for probate last Tuesday. Mrs. Downs, a widow with no close relatives, died April 8, 1939 at the age of 84. A resident of this district (Sawtelle) for 38 years, since 1901, she made her Home at 1537 Corinth. Her will was found to be simple in character, providing first for the gift to the Boys’ home and then for the naming of the Security First National Bank of Los Angeles as executor. April 21, 1939, Independent Newspaper, L. A. Library
The Ken Schwartz account who stayed at Lark Ellen in West Los Angeles 1935 to 1937, a few years prior to World War II.
“Today, Olympic Boulevard originates in downtown Los Angeles as 10th Street then runs westerly to dead-end at the Pacific Ocean in Santa Monica. When mother took me to live at Lark Ellen Home for Boys, the home fronted on a two-lane dirt road that was ultimately to become an extension of Olympic Boulevard. In my days the dirt road was known as Louisiana Street.
It was a Sunday afternoon that I walked up to the entrance of Lark Ellen Home holding on to mother with one hand and my suitcase with the other. There was a statue of a majestic Lion lying on its belly on each side of the entrance steps. I learned later that those lions were the symbols of the Lions men’s Club of the West Los Angeles (Sawtelle) area who sponsored the home for Boys and partially supported its ongoing expenses.
We stepped into a small lobby and were greeted by a matronly Lady named Mrs. Cassidy. Mrs. Cassidy ran Lark Ellen. She explained that the home was named for Ellen Beach Yaw a popular concert singer of the late 1800’s and early 1900’s. Her voice was so sweet and bird-like, she became known as “Lark” Ellen. Lark Ellen founded the home to care for homeless newspaper boys who she had befriended. Founded in 1890, the Home was originally known as Lark Ellen Home for Newspaper Boys and was located in downtown Los Angeles. Obviously, the Home was no longer downtown and the boys were not all abandoned newspaper boys. Many of the boys were from homes with a single parent who needed help in caring for their son(s). Mrs. Cassidy stressed that Lark Ellen was not a reformatory; it was indeed a home. It was to be my caring home for the next two years.
Mrs. Cassidy and mother went into a small office to conduct some business while I sat shifting from one side to the other. They emerged and Mrs. Cassidy announced that I would be a “Middle Boy.” I later discovered there were also “Little Boys” and “Big Boys” and the terms determined which dormitory was to be my home. Mrs. Cassidy led us out a rear door of the lobby and up an imposing stairway to the second floor. The place seemed empty. All of the boys were outside playing.
The Middle Boys dormitory was straight back as if it were the stem of an upside down “T.” Mrs. Cassidy said the second bed on the right would be mine and we set my luggage down there. Another lady wearing a white uniform came in. I don’t recall her name, but she was the matron overseeing the Middle Boys. She seemed motherly and pleasant enough.
From the top of the main stairway, the Big Boys were to the right and the Little Boys were to the left. Our Matrons’ bedrooms separated the two. There were gang bathrooms across from the Little Boys and the Big Boys’ dorms. The Middle Boys used the Little Boys’ facilities. A linen room was adjacent to the bathroom and all clothing was numbered. My number was to be “33”. It would be a lucky number for me the rest of my life. About that time, a door at the rear of the dorm burst open and a flood of boys entered the dorm. Mrs. Cassidy began introductions. When she was finished, I could not remember a single name. It would take some time to get acquainted. Mother helped me “store” my things and I walked down the stairs with her to the entrance lobby. We hugged, she gave me a kiss, opened the door, and, puff, she was gone. I was on my own in this strange new place with many boys unlike any home I had ever lived in.
Later in life, I came to realize how very difficult this parting was for mother. Mrs. Cassidy returned, took my hand and led me to a table in the dining room. I think there were eight boys to a table plus one adult. Food was on the plates but no one started eating until Mrs. Cassidy sat down and lifted her fork. That was the signal. Everybody started eating. I was impressed. The food was good and there was milk and dessert to boot. Table by table each boy picked up his dishes and walked to the dish washing side of the kitchen, scraped the scraps off his plate and exited back to the main hallway.
There was some type of program that evening in the big parlor, but I don’t remember a thing about it. Bedtime came and I fell into my bed exhausted, sad and somewhat fearful of tomorrow. To myself I recited a little prayer I remembered from a Sunday School long past. The prayer ended: “May angels guard over my slumbers and when, the morning is dawning, awake me. Amen.”
A buzz of activities woke me. The boy in the bed next to me had wet his bed and the matron was helping him change his bedding. The boy on the other side of me said that this boy always wet his bed and explained that was why his bed was closest to the hallway leading to the bathroom. However, he never woke up in time to get to the toilet. We each had to make our own beds. I was taught how to make those “hospital corners.” I continue to make hospital corners to this day. After washing up and dressing we lined up for breakfast and when finished, boys started leaving for school. Mrs. Cassidy had told me that she would drive me to school this first day to see that I got properly registered. Sawtelle Boulevard Elementary School (years Later known as the Nora Sterry Elementary School) was four blocks distant fronting on Sawtelle Boulevard. I was enrolled into the fifth grade. I soon learned that teachers and staff referred to Lark Ellen boys as the Home for Boys. I wasn’t sure whether to be proud or embarrassed with that distinction.
I walked home with a fellow ‘Home Boy’ I recognized from yesterday, changed into ‘play clothes’ and began to explore my new home and the surrounding grounds. The ground floor beneath the Little Boys’ dorm was occupied by the kitchen and dining room; an interior playroom was located under my Middle Boys’ dorm; and a small library and large parlor were located beneath the Big Boys’ dorm. The end of each dorm had a sun- room with a door to an exterior stairway to the ground.
The Lark Ellen property encompassed an entire block (between Corinth avenue and Purdue avenue, Louisiana avenue (Olympic Blvd.) and Mississippi avenue). The back half was separated from the front half by a row of large walnut trees and a tall hedge. Boys were not allowed to go beyond the hedge so the back half of the property remained mysterious to us all. On the Big Boys’ side of the Home was an old wooden bungalow that housed a small group of the oldest boys. These boys were in high school. The bungalow looked like it might have been a wood framed farmhouse at one time. On the far side of the bungalow was a large grassy play field. Behind the kitchen was a huge sandbox used primarily by ‘little boys.’ Hovering over the sandbox were two giant avocado trees that were great for climbing. It was scary if you climbed too high. Someone watching from the kitchen would usually stick their head out and tell us to “Get down!”
Stretching from behind the sandbox to the division hedge was a swath of land that was divided into small garden plots. Boys who wanted to grow vegetables to sell to the kitchen could be assigned a plot. I signed up for one. Use of these plots was supervised by an elderly caretaker/handyman who lived in a wooden shack-like building at the hedge line. He was guardian of the shovels and hoes and rakes and he would show us how to cultivate and care for our garden. This caretaker always wore faded blue bib coveralls and had a red bandanna kerchief in his pocket. He was always well groomed. He smoked a corncob pipe and he had a wooden leg. Occasionally, he got cranky. It was said he lost his leg in World War One and the pain from the amputation caused him to be irritable at times. We boys learned to stay clear during those times. Incidentally, the first crop from my garden plot was string beans and Swiss chard. I remember receiving 8-cents for the string beans and 5-cents for the Swiss chard.
Play at Lark Ellen was not organized nor were we boys under constant supervision. In fact, there was very little supervision. We were expected to be obedient, know the rules and ‘get along.’ In that era, simple rules worked. To misbehave sometimes meant missing dessert or, worse, a whole meal. Boys were always hungry so missing a meal was pretty tough punishment. I can’t recall a single time a boy received corporal punishment. The ultimate penalty of being bad had very real and dire consequences. A boy could be expelled and sent home – a very uncertain prospect for most of the boys. I certainly did not know where my home was anymore.
When weekends came, mothers or fathers would come and pick up their sons for a ‘home-stay.’ Some boys never got a home-stay, but Mrs. Cassidy was known to take some of those boys to her own Santa Barbara home on occasional weekends. My home-stays usually occurred twice a month: one home-stay with my mother and one home-stay with my father and his new wife. At first, new boys looked forward to home-stays. Being with your mother or dad in a different setting was a break from ‘Home-life.’ With time, the routine of Home-life began to have a settling effect. Boys knew what to expect. And Lark Ellen did plan interesting weekend outings for those with no place to go. As boys became more settled, the prospect of Home-stays receded in importance. It did with me.”
Ken Schwartz
The James Laird account – Christmas Celebration at Lark Ellen in the 1930s
it might be a good time to write about what Christmas was like at the Lark Ellen Home for Boys while my brothers and I lived there. A large Christmas tree was put up in the living room which was on the first floor under one of the dormitories and about the same size as the dorm. I never saw it being decorated as the room was only used for special occasions. A week or so before Christmas we were all dressed up in our best clothes and driven to the Biltmore Hotel dining room in downtown Los Angeles to be the guest of the West Los Angeles (Sawtelle) Lions Club for lunch. It was a good thing we dined at the Biltmore and not at the boys home, if we had a formal dining room at the boys home, it would have been very intimidating with all the fancy table settings. We did not use that many spoons, knives, and forks at the boys home.
Each boy had a Lion Club member sitting next to him who made him feel relaxed, and talked to us during the meal. The dining room was decorated in the Christmas spirit with a large tree with piles of large Christmas boxes underneath it. When we had finished dessert and the tables had been cleared Santa appeared next to the tree. His assistant handed him brightly ribbon boxes and he would call out the name on it and each boy would go up to receive his gift from Santa. The gifts were usually in Bullocks or the May Company Dept. store boxes and contained clothing that was just our size thanks to the efforts of the dorm matrons and Mom Cassidy, the superintendent. There were a bunch of happy contented boys hugging their boxes tight to their full tummies on the ride home.
Early Christmas morning found all the boys sitting on the floor around the Christmas tree in the living room singing Christmas carols. The few kids going home for Christmas day would stay until later in the morning. Under the tree were gifts for each of us. This time they were more likely to be toys or games or something they knew you were very interested in. Sometimes we had a special guest who gave out the gifts. Usually it was someone who had visited us before and had entertained us in some way.
Often it was someone who worked in Hollywood or the entertainment industry such as Mel Blank who did the voices of many cartoon characters? These guests would usually stay to have a special breakfast with us before going to their own Christmas celebration. Sometimes a parent would come early enough to be with us for the early morning celebration. I remember my brothers and I were picked up on Christmas day a couple of times to spend the day with our father.
I don’t remember the names of all the people who came to entertain us in the living room. I remember one who came fairly often who would sing a few songs and then have us sing along with her. A lot of the songs were from WWI like “Every cloud has a Silver Lining,” and “When the boys come marching home again, The Beer Barrel Polka, Under the Weeping Willow Tree” are just a few. A couple came and did ballroom dancing like Waltzes and the Flamingo and Tango. One helped us organize a harmonica band and came regularly to instruct us for several months. I tried out for the band but gave it up when I found I could not curl my tongue right and could play only cords.
The man teaching us the Harmonica had a really neat car. He said it was a model “B” and was really fancy for a Ford with two-tone paint and fancy metal things just in back of the back window, and white wall tires. Another person played the violin and was teaching some of us to play also. I gave that up also as I did not have the patience to keep playing the same notes over and over again as required to do it right.
One lady did the Clara Cluck sound for the chicken of that name in cartoons. She did other sounds too but that one really sticks in my mind as she could cluck like a hen who had just laid the golden egg. We even had a dance studio from Westwood come to teach us older boys how to ballroom dance. I think the main reason the teacher picked us was she had mostly girl students and needed partners for her girls and we were captive males with no place to go with an available dance floor, a piano and phonograph.
One of the ladies who used to visit fairly often when we first came to the home passed away when we had been there about four years, and I was asked to help carry her casket along with a couple of other boys. This was my first funeral and it was held at Forest Lawn in the Wee Bo Kirk Chapel (I think that was what it was called). It was all very interesting and the chapel was very pretty, but I did not care to do any more. I did do two more later.
Through our local Boy Scout Troop I became good friends with a boy who lived across the street from the Boy’s Home. I was allowed to visit him regularly. He was into sailboat racing and he had won quite a few races at Long Beach and Newport. The boat he sailed was called “Flatly” was built just around the corner from the boys home in an old barn converted to a small boat works.
We would often go around there to watch them building the boats. As the name implied they were flat bottomed and made of plywood and sailed with a crew of one or two. In the early evening there were quite a few grownups working on boats or just standing around shooting the breeze. It was one of those guys who showed me the best way to sharpen a knife. As I was just starting to grow hair on my arms and legs you could often see bare spots where I tested how sharp my knife my was by shaving off bits of hair.
Jim Laird
Pictured below is Paul, Crawford and Donald Noll, ages 5,6 and 7. Paul says about the the Lark Ellen in West L.A. Home for Boys – 1935 – 1936 “For a couple of years in 1935-36 my Mother put the three of us boys in the Lark Ellen School for boys. We understood the reason we were there and that it was only for a short time while she finished her education and then we would have our own home. I remember two giant stone lions guarding the front entrance.”
Sawtelle California 1897 to 1950 