On this day in 1919, my great-grandfather Gus, a Danish immigrant and tailor, died suddenly in downtown Los Angeles at a meeting of his labor union. It was Thanksgiving Eve, they were in the midst of a strike, and the incident was shocking enough that it made the newspaper.
Gus, his wife Rose, and their two sons (including my then-15-year-old grandfather) were living in a nearby boarding house at the time. Not surprisingly, the tragedy sent the family into a tailspin and further destabilized their already-difficult circumstances. I've only recently pieced this story together with the help of Ancestry.com. My grandfather never talked about it.
My family's L.A. roots go back to the turn of the last century so we have former residences scattered all over the city. I've driven by a few of them over the years but never felt much of an emotional connection.
This particular boarding house, though, is now an office building and so I was able to go inside recently and discreetly look around. What a difference. What a gift to be able to walk in their footsteps and get such a tangible, if still tantalizing, peek into their lives. My only regret is that they experienced such hard times there and that it ended so badly.
1-3) Rear window, interior stairwell, and lobby; 619 South Olive Street
4) Los Angeles Times; November 27, 1919
5) My great-grandparents Gus and Rose Gilbert in happier times