|
Table of Contents
E-mail
|
THE SUMNERS
THE HESSES
THE SUMNERS
The new owner was a man of varied experience. A native of Ann Arbor, Jim
Sumner had received only a third-grade education, but among other things,
he had been on the Ann Arbor fire department, had been an award-winning
salesman of Whippet cars in Brighton, had sold cars in Lansing, and most
recently had been running a small hotel and dining room in Fowlerville.
When he came to St. Louis with his second wife, he was committed to the
success of the Park Hotel. They moved into the owner's suite on the second
floor, and he said he could see possibilities in St. Louis both in an
up-to-date hotel and in the curative value of the mineral baths.
Using his customary artful management, he doubled Sunday patronage in
the dining room within a month. Fried chicken dinners became a Sunday
specialty, and Chef Joseph Kobus made a hit with his varied menu and a
popular businessman's luncheon.
Now in his mid-70's, Jim Stafford severed his connection with the Park.
His association with the institution had lasted nearly 50 years. He and
Harriet retired to their large home on the river to live their remaining
years as members of the town's aristocracy.
The entire hotel complex had not fared well in the late 20's and was badly
in need of renovation. The sanitarium had been closed, and its rooms stood
full of dust and debris. in the hotel the rooms still contained wash-stands
with pitchers and bowls; common toilets were still in use on each floor.
James Sumner, owner and operator of the Park during the 1930'
The condition of some of the rooms was attested to by one salesman who
was asleep in bed when a section of plaster fell off the ceiling and hit
him.
Sumner soon began the long-needed modernization by installing toilets
and lavatories in each room. He outfitted the rooms with new furniture.
He disposed of the old furniture, including solid walnut, marble-topped
washstands, for a dollar apiece. He installed an electric elevator which
supplanted the antique that had served for many years. Electric refrigerators
in the kitchen and radios in the lobby added to the improvements.
Sumner advertised the Park Hotel as the "Home Away from Home,"
and the place ''Where Nature Helps Nature." He solicited testimonials
for his new advertising brochure, and chief among the enthusiasts were
G. E. and Alice M. Lee of Gladwin, Michigan, who had first come to the
Park in 1928. At the time, Lee, who hadn't walked in four months, had
been carried into the hotel. After seven months of treatments he walked
out. His wife had suffered from rheumatism and bladder trouble, yet nine
weeks of treatments at the Park had cured her. Now they came several times
a year to fill their huge bottles with the spring water which they drank
exclusively.
Both the American and European plans were available at the Park. Rooms
with baths could be had for $2.00-$2.50 per day single occupancy or $3.00-$3.50
per day double occupancy. Room and board plus baths cost from $25.00 to
$45.00 weekly. A total of 21 baths was recommended for those with rheumatism.
Grace Updegraff and "Little" Jim Stafford headed the bath departments.
Although the baths were not as popular as they had been, many former customers
continued to come to the Park for a relaxing soaking and massage.
Among those customers was former governor Chase Osborne who always stopped
en route to his hometown Sault Ste. Marie. A big, distinguished man who
fit the image of a governor, he would arrive with his secretary, have
dinner, and luxuriate in a hot bath administered by Jim Stafford.
The Park took on new life under Sumner's management. More visitors and
travailing men began using the hotel. A sample room off the lobby was
provided for salesmen. The discovery of oil in the Porter field northeast
of St. Louis brought a whole new clientele — leasing men and oil speculators.
These men conducted their various wheelings and dealings at the hotel
and sometimes treated local farmers to a hotel dinner in an attempt to
obtain drilling rights on more property. The Oil Scouts, a group of about
thirty geologists from various oil companies met regularly at the Park
to exchange ideas.
Since two hospitals recently had been opened in Alma, the sanitarium
was no longer being used for patients, and Sumner sought a use for the
building. With the arrival of Repeal in 1933, he tore out the walls and
turned it into a nightclub called the "Showboat." A band played
for dancing, beer was served, and St. Louis had a popular nightspot. The
roustabouts from the Porter oil field, along with local people, those
from neighboring towns, and members of the farming community all congregated
at the "Showboat". This intermingling, coupled with the beer,
kept the St. Louis police busy breaking up fights and answering complaints.
Since the band could be heard for blocks, and the merrymaking continued
until 2 a.m., many neighbors were irritated. The general dissatisfaction
with the establishment grew until Sumner bowed to pressure and closed
the "Showboat."
Next he renovated a room in the hotel's basement and called it the "Rainbow
Room." It was the site of much poker playing and beer drinking among
local men. The empty sanitarium next became a roller rink.
A frequent resident at the hotel was Jim Sumner, Jr., Sumner's teenage
son from his first marriage. Young Jim, whose room was on the third floor,
soon found himself involved in clerking, shining shoes, giving baths,
and filling in where he was needed.
He also was responsible for performing a unique task at the spring-house.
The iron in the water would stain glassware an amber color. People brought
glass items to the spring to receive this popular decoration. Jim had
to place the glassware under the flow in the spring-house until the proper
hue had been achieved.
From the days shortly after the discovery of the mineral well, the water
had been bottled and shipped across the country by a variety of individuals.
In 1937 Charles S. Huntley organized the Michigan Mineral Water Company
to promote the sale of the water. The bottling works was located in the
old building to the south of the hotel on Mill Street. Huntley, who hailed
from New York City, quickly gained both a reputation and a nickname; people
considered him a flashy promoter and called him the ten-cent millionaire.
In his promotional pamphlet he advised users to drink two glassfuls before
breakfast and six during the day. The liquid was best served cool or slightly
chilled and was available by the case which contained six green, half-gallon
bottles suitable for use at the table.
In 1938 Huntley changed the name of the product to "Natural Ray
Mineral Water," stating that "... its beneficial and curative
properties have been attested to by thousands of men and women who since
the discovery of the well some 70 years ago, have visited St. Louis to
drink and bathe in this remarkable water." He claimed that the chemical
make-up of the water resembled the celebrated Vichy Water of Europe. He
cited the testimony of James R. Stafford, now in his mid-80's, who stated
he had been drinking the water for 58 years and credited the water for
his remarkable health.
Also in 1938 the city replaced the pumping equipment at the wellhead.
In the process of replacing the pumps, the old well house, built years
before, was torn dawn.
Huntley took advantage of the gubernatorial campaign of 1938 to promote
the mineral water. Gov. Frank Murphy was running for reelection against
former-Governor Frank Fitzgerald. On a campaign swing through central
Michigan in October, Murphy addressed a crowd of several hundred persons
from the verandah of the Park. He was two hours late arriving from West
Branch, and the crowd was entertained by a "sound machine" which
played lively music on the porch. The next week Fitzgerald arrived in
St. Louis at Huntley's behest to "rededicate" the mineral spring.
This ceremony consisted chiefly of the two posing for newspaper photographs,
allowing both men to reap the benefits of the publicity. It gave Huntley
an opportunity to stress that the mineral water had been used at the state
capitol for a quarter of a century.
Huntley and his wife Winnie lived at the Hotel at first. Their Eastern
accents seemed somewhat affected to local citizens, and even of greater
interest was Winnie's appearance on the hotel stairs with her pack of
leashed dogs which she kept in her room. Though the Huntleys were the
objects of conversations, and Huntley seemed to be an opportunist, it
must be said he was a man of his word. Wishing to build a house on a hill
north of the Mill Street Bridge, he persuaded the local lumber company
to furnish the materials, though most people thought he did not have the
resources to pay for them. In the end, though, the lumber company received
its money.
The campaign of 1938 was of special interest to Jim Sumner, Sr. A devout
Democrat in a Republican stronghold, he was disappointed when Murphy lost
to Republican Fitzgerald. The national Democratic upswing in the 30's
had little effect on St. Louis, but Sumner had the pleasure of being elected
mayor, defeating the conservative Republican incumbent Carl Harrington,
scion of one of the town's first families. In fact, Sumner's personality
and abilities enabled him to complete five terms as mayor. He was a promoter
of the Democratic party on a county-wide basis, too. Young Jim, hoping
to plan some social activities for the weekend, instead would find himself
behind the wheel of his father's 1932 V-16 Cadillac driving his dad to
yet another political meeting.
By 1941 Jim Sumner had decided it was time to retire. Although he had
been responsible for many major improvements to the building, he lacked
the capital to maintain the Park in top-notch condition. It was showing
its age and signs of neglect when he put it up for sale and it was purchased
by Mr. and Mrs. William Kesl.
On Saturday evening, May 31, 1941, about fifty people from the Rotary
and Lions clubs, the business community, and city officialdom surprised
the Sumners with a party at the hotel. As the Leader explained, "True
friendship was displayed and politics forgotten." The couple was
wished well and presented with a table-lamp. Mrs. Sumner was given a bouquet
of carnations; a large vase of roses came from florist Milt Townsend,
and sweet peas were provided by the Paul Crandall's.
Finally, an autograph book made the rounds. Early the following Monday,
the Sumners left for Ann Arbor, Sumner's hometown. The Kesls took possession
of the hotel on Sunday, June 1, 1941, and a new and exciting era in the
life of the hotel began.
return to top
THE HESSES
The new owners were not novices in hotel-keeping. Bill Kesl was a graduate
of the hotel training program at Michigan State College. He had managed
the Hotel Chippewa in Manistee and the Michigan Union Cafeteria in Ann
Arbor. Also, he had worked at the Palmer House in Chicago, and most recently
he had been executive assistant manager of the Hotel in Toledo.
What brought the Kesls to St. Louis? Mrs. Kesl was the former Mary Hess,
daughter of Walter and Goldie Hess of St. Louis, who were the owners of
perhaps the largest duck hatchery in the world. They had made it possible
for the Kesls to purchase the famous Park Hotel.
The new owners had many plans for the hotel and immediately began a program
of renovation and remodeling. As Walt Hess recalled later, "The hotel
had been running down for a long time." Much work faced the family.
The first room to be completed was the Travertine Coffee Shop, located
on the north side of the building in what had been a private dining room.
Described as one of the most modern eating places in central Michigan,
the shop was decorated with an artificial travertine stone finish and
natural wood veneer. It opened August 1, 1941.
Up-to-date kitchen facilities were vital to the hotel, and a small, well-equipped
kitchen was installed behind the coffee shop. The Kesls brought to the
dining room Chef Constantine Nichols, a five-year veteran of the kitchen
staff in the University Union at Ann Arbor with previous experience in
Detroit and Chicago hotels and restaurants.
The Kesls intended to name the establishment the "St. Louis Sanitarium
and Hotel." The lobby, kitchen, and bath department all were slated
for renovation. The bath area was a mess, the floor still consisting of
stones set in soil. New cement floors were poured, and a husband and wife
team experienced in Swedish massage was hired hired to head the department.
Ray and Ardis Kniffen of Clare had operated the Ardray Health Baths in
Mt. Pleasant. Both were graduates of Central State Teacher's College (CMU
), and Ray had been graduated from the Chicago College of Swedish Massage.
Jim Stafford, Grace Updegraff, and Nora Schultz were to continue with
the bath department, and Mary Kesl, a registered nurse, was to assist
as well. This new emphasis on the mineral baths was only part of Bill
Kesl's program to re-establish the hotel's reputation.
Kesl recognized that the extensive exterior woodwork needed repair and
repainting. The long porch possibly would need rebuilding, too. He also
planned redecoration of the rooms on the second and third floors. In addition
to opening the coffee shop, Kesl was able to renovate the lobby and hallway.
Then his plans were interrupted.
The outbreak of World War II demanded service of many young American
men, and Bill Kesl joined the army. Eventually he and Mary ended up in
Norfolk, Virginia, where they remained for the duration of the war.
Left without an experienced hotel man, Walt Hess bought the hotel outright
for approximately $20,000 in March, 1942, and his son Grant took over
the management. Said Walt in an interview two years later, "... at
that time my son ''G.W." took the place over as manager. Since then
we have been continuing our rehabilitation plans. Of course the war caught
up with us and has made it difficult and has slowed us down a bit, but
we are still progressing."
The war did, indeed, slow them down, recalls Grant's wife Vesta. Even
obtaining suitable fabric for dining room draperies became a challenge.
Putting the dining room in shape was even a greater challenge. The floors
were sanded and waxed, the walls were painted, and the new draperies were
hung. Walt Hess purchased some dining room furniture from a hotel in Cleveland,
Ohio. He installed new ceiling lights, and he had the big kitchen cleaned
up. Now the dining room, freshly furnished and redecorated was opened
for business.
At this time Chef Constantine Nichols decided to return to Ann Arbor.
Replacing him were two local ladies, Mary Wolford and Hazel Griffith,
who had worked in the kitchen for the Sumners. Mrs. Venie Bickel, Goldie
Hess's sister, had been working as pastry cook, and she remained for a
while before returning home to Pennsylvania. The dining room emphasized
good home-style cooking.
Soon after Nichols left for Ann Arbor, the Kniffens returned to Clare.
The expected upswing in the bath department had not occurred. Perhaps
ten baths were being given each week, and Jim Stafford, Grace Updegraff,
and Nora Schultz administered these.
The redecorating of rooms continued. An article in Hotel Monthly reported,
"The new rooms are delightful. They are colorful, comfortably furnished,
modern and attractive. The old rooms are what one might expect in a property
that is 75 years old."
The extensive renovation began to pay off. Patronage of the dining room
increased greatly, and guests sometimes filled the hotel, requiring management
to scramble to accommodate the overflow. In addition, the war-generated
prosperity touched the Park as more salesmen and state and federal employees
were on the road.
One person who had worked at the hotel in several positions since 1927
was the late Bill Keon. He began working for Jim Stafford as a bell-hop
and eventually became an assistant manager of the hotel. He took time
out to enter the war effort, but he recalled the hotel in the forties
as a center of activity in St. Louis.
Service clubs such as the Lions and Rotary continued to hold their regular
meetings there. Some organizations held conventions at the Park. Add to
this a variety of local school functions, Alma College celebrations, fraternity
dances, wedding receptions, private parties, and staff meetings of local
companies. This spate of meetings brought prosperity to the Park, and
it kept both staff and facilities busy.
The founding of the Michigan Chemical Company by Walter and Donald Wilkinson
in 1935 had also brought new prosperity to St. Louis. MCC manufactured
various products using the brine that originally had prompted the discovery
of the magnetic mineral spring in 1869. The Park Hotel housed visiting
stockholders and officers of the company. Here, too, met the Foremen's
Clean-living Club, a fun-loving group of Chemical Company supervisory
personnel who sometimes brought their own beverages and enjoyed boisterous
times.
In spite of their new vocation as hotel-men, Walt and Grant Hess were
still primarily concerned with their vast duck hatchery, whose St. Louis
and Hemlock plants hatched 600,000 fowl a year. In fact, the hotel was
devouring too much time and money. When the opportunity presented itself
in the mid-'40's they sold the facility.
The buyers were Mr. and Mrs. Charles Durell of Washington, D.C., who
wanted to get out of the city and into a rural setting. Hotel-keeping
seemed to be the answer for them. Mrs. Durell was friendly, but her husband
did not make friends easily, and within a year they concluded that hotel-keeping
was not to their liking, and the Park reverted to the Hesses.
As might be expected, duckling dinners were added to the standard fare
at the Park. In 1943 the hotel was using perhaps 50 ducklings a week.
The duckling dinner was described by the Hotel Monthly writer as "...one
of the best home-cooked meals we have had in a long while." It cost
$1.25. Probably Walt and Grant Hess did not realize it at this time, but
the duckling dinner was to become the hallmark of the Park Hotel for the
rest of its years.
In an effort to sell ducklings to a wider market, Grant invited to St.
Louis the president and vice-president of the National Tea Company, a
well-known national grocery store chain. In an attempt to impress these
executives, he had newly-hired chef Vic Manzullo prepare duckling dinners.
Manzullo, had come to the Park from his position as head of food services
at Alma College, and he was an imaginative and talented cook.
The duckling dinners, with his special touch, were rated very highly
by the two executives. In fact, the meals were so well-received that the
Hesses soon found themselves with a contract to supply this large chain
of stores with thousands of ducklings each year. Michigolden Ducklings,
quick-frozen in cellophane, left St. Louis by the truckloads bound for
a far-flung market.
A variety of people ranging from the famous to the unknown had staved
at the Park Hotel. In the 40's no more famous personage appeared at the
Park than former heavyweight world boxing champion Gene Tunney. A recently-elected
director of the Michigan Chemical Company, Tunney arrived with company
president Col. Colburn Davis. Although Davis was a wealthy capitalist
who was doing much for St. Louis, it was, of course, Tunney who drew the
crowds.
During this 1946 visit Tunney was entertained by members of the Lions
and Rotary clubs and their ladies at a 6:30 dinner at the Park. City Manager
Frank Housel, the town's resident "character," served as toastmaster.
Tunney made some remarks, but they were overshowed by his mere presence.
He returned to St. Louis for other directors' meetings. At one visit,
he presented an assembly at St. Louis High School.
Name bands that came to play at the Bass Lake Pavilion stayed at the
Park. Mrs. Frank Knox, widow of the former Secretary of the Navy, and
her chauffeur stayed at the Park when she came to Alma for the dedication
of the Reid-Knox Building at Alma College. Waitresses remembered her as
a "nice little woman." Richard Arlen, the actor, and his writer
Frank Gruber took up residence at the Park while in the area campaigning
for the election of Dwight Eisenhower as President. Governor G. Mennen
Williams arrived at the Park from time to time and could call the waitresses
by name after one or two visits.
Nevertheless, the main drawing card at the Park was not famous clientele;
it was the duckling dinner which was establishing a state-wide reputation
for the hotel's dining room. Many local people visited the dining room
for Sunday dinner, but countless out-of-town folks designed vacations
and Sunday afternoon drives to include a stop at the Park for a delicious
duckling dinner.
Vic Manzullo prepared the ducklings using a special technique that imparted
to them a special flavor. He steamed them until the fat came off. Then
he took the cover off and let the ducklings brown. Most male patrons devoured
a half duckling; ladies often requested one-quarter of the fowl. The meat
was complemented with dressing, potatoes and gravy, a vegetable, fruit
salad, and garnish. This was the dinner that for a decade and a half drew
thousands to St. Louis.
If it appeared that Walt Hess was the guiding light behind both hatchery
and hotel, many St. Louis people knew that behind him stood o person who
may have been the one most responsible for the success of both enterprises.
That person was Goldie Hess, his wife. Her life was filled with activity—as
she wished. She was a live-wire, an ambitious, level-headed woman who
saw that things got done. She was on active lodge woman, prominent in
the Eastern Star, and extremely involved in that organization's programs.
Her death from cancer in 1949 was a serious blow to Walt and perhaps to
the future of the Park.
Also valuable to the Hess business interests was Roy Bortles, bookkeeper
for both the hatchery and hotel. He served the Hesses for 20 years, operating
out of his office in the hotel.
In the early '50's Grant Hess leased the food and room business from
his father. He redecorated much of the building, carpeted the dining room
and put up new draperies. Murals of the duck hatchery adorned the dining
room walls. Some of the older room furniture was replaced, and the trolls
were recarpeted. Behind the desk was a familiar face — former city manager
Frank Housel, the new hotel manager.
The
Park Hotel, C. 1951.
By 1951 both the old creamery and the gristmill to the north of the
hotel hod fallen into disrepair. The bridges on the property were dangerous,
and the millraces were not being used to power machinery. The city requested
that Francis O'Melia clean up the property or sell it. He did not want
to sell it in parcels, but in April of 1951 he sold the entire property
to Grant and Vesta Hess. The city then wished to sell the Hesses a strip
of land adjoining the Andrews Mineral Well, a transaction completed in
July 1951. The creamery and gristmill were torn down and the millraces
were filled. It was announced in May, 1952, that a new municipal swimming
pool was to be constructed on the sites of these buildings, the land being
donated by the city and Grant Hess.
At the same time, the specter of water rights emerged from the past.
The city once again was lacking sufficient water for its mains. A test
well was proposed near the Mineral Well, and, recalling the litigation
in the early '20's, this was cause for concern. The city negotiated with
both the Andrews heirs and the Hotel. The heirs, having long since lost
interest in the well, deeded the well to the city. For the last thirty
years the Hotel had received mineral water from the city's pumping apparatus
installed following the Supreme Court decision. At the same time, every
home in St. Louis which was hooked to a city main received the very same
mineral water. Continuation of this arrangement seemed pointless, and
at last the Park Hotel was connected to a city main. The famed Mineral
Well was capped, and the Andrews family was paid $100 for the footbridges
to the wellhead, these having been sold by the city. With construction
of the W. T. Morris swimming pool, the Mineral Well was obliterated.
If anything besides the famed duckling dinners came to typify the hotel—
at least to local folks it was the celebrated round table in the southeast
corner of the dining room. Here at noon gathered a company of men whose
membership varied from day to day. Still, its makeup was somewhat predictable
Walt Hess would be there, the genial, cigar-smoking host, always ready
with a new story which would spread through the downtown area before the
stores closed in the afternoon. Grant Hess would be there, too, and Frank
Housel with his own collection of stories. Bookkeeper Roy Bortles would
pull up a chair. Clarence Smazel, from the Leader might join the group,
and John Giles from the Chemical Company. Lawyer Ralph Goggin and banker
Vere Nunn could be counted on, and Col. Davis when he was in town would
join the others for a favored lunch of duckling giblets on toast.
If a burst of laughter erupted from the table it might be because jovial
Walt Hess had reminded the men that the hotel's boilers now were being
fueled with the canes and crutches abandoned by the halt and lame who
had been cured by the mineral water. Or a roar of laughter might have
been generated by someone's even more high-powered story. The business
of the round table was not only the businessman's luncheon and the conviviality
of those assembled around it, but also the significant number of deals
struck in that informal atmosphere. The round table and its inhabitants
became legendary in St. Louis.
In the early '50's when the Gleaner Home in Alma closed, the elderly
inhabitants moved to the third floor of the Park Hotel. They included
around 20 widows and widowers and two or three married couples. A lady
had been hired to look out for them, and generally they kept to themselves,
riding the elevator to the dining room and going out for walks.
Vic Manzullo left the hotel in the mid-'50's and moved to Kalamazoo.
He was followed by a succession of chefs including Bennie Mercer—whose
wife Helen served as hostess—, Frank Edson and Stan Binkowski.
Jim Stafford, who customarily sat in a chair just inside the main doors
of the lobby, still administered occasional baths. The bather settled
in the tub which was filled with increasingly warm water. Covered with
a sheet or towel, he was allowed to soak with a towel ground the neck.
Then cool water was mixed in. When he left the tub, he was swathed in
a warm flannel blanket, allowed to dry on a table, then given a relaxing
massage.
The 50's were very good years for the hotel. Besides serving as headquarters
for service clubs, it hosted an untold number of parties, dances, receptions,
and other social gatherings. Its famous dining room remained open every
day of the year.
return to top
continue
to part six
Last Updated
August 22, 2006
|