The Way it Was: Hollywood

Thinking back to the golden age of movies when Hollywood gave us famous stars, their footprints at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, and glittering premiers where limousines spilled out celebrities under blazing lights and reeking of glamour, I remembered the Atwater Kent parties. "Who's Atwater Kent?" I was asked. In an old Los Angeles Herald Express dated March ‘49 the headlines read, "Socialites, stars get share of Atwater Kent Millions." So who was A. Atwater Kent? Few people of my generation remember him today, yet he was one of Hollywood's best known hosts in the years just after World War II. It's sad to think that someone who made such a spectacular impression in Hollywood during its heyday could so quickly be forgotten. Unknown to west coasters when he came to Hollywood in 1940, closing down his houses in Philadelphia, Bar Harbor and Palm Beach, it wasn't long before his fame took on mighty proportions. He was a man with a brilliant mind, a generous heart, some good ideas, and lots of money.

Mr. Kent was already an old man when he came to play in our back yard. Play is exactly what he wanted to do after working to build his fortune in a difficult world. He wanted to find a white elephant house with big rooms and spacious grounds - some lofty hilltop for lavish parties for the rich and famous. At the very top of Bel Air Road he found the perfect place. Alphonzo E. Bell was the previous owner and builder of the rambling Capo di Monte, a sprawling Italianesque mansion sitting on l2 acres of terraced landscape overlooking the city and the Pacific Ocean.The wide bay windows let in the sun that he loved and had been one of his reasons for choosing to move west. The huge rooms could encompass his guests chosen from star-studded lists of luminaries with whom he longed to rub elbows and wanted around. The extensive grounds, with their beautiful floriculture tended by six gardeners, the climbing paths bordered by rock gardens leading to tennis courts and an immense swimming pool would make a fine background for enjoying his remaining years.

A little man in stature, Atwater was a giant in the field of radio manufacturing and automobile advancement. He was one of the great 20th century pioneers of modern technology. Born in 1873 in Vermont, Atwater grew up in an atmosphere of culture and gentility but with not many luxuries, as his father was a doctor who received payment in the form of I.O.U.s. As a boy he was fascinated by the new electrical and mechanical inventions and spent his time in the company of working men getting his hands dirty, puttering around with cars. When automobiles first rolled on the roads of America, getting them started was always a Laurel and Hardy comedy routine as they sputtered and coughed while being cranked, kicked, then pushed and finally headed down hill with the driver hanging on with one foot dragging behind only to have the motor die and the routine would start all over again. Well, Kent fixed that! He wondered why the auto couldn't be started from inside the car. So being the brilliant little genius he was, he invented the self starter ignition system, changing the motor industry and making him rich. From fooling around with automobiles he started tinkering with radios and soon went into radio manufacturing. The Atwater Kent Radio became a household item, bringing in even more big bucks for Atwater and placing him among the richest men in America.

Leaving his wife and grown children to their lives in Philadelphia, Kent headed west to the milder climates of California bringing his English imported servants, favorite cadillacs and his bow ties with him. After parking his treasured cadillacs in his new garages, he sent his long time and faithful butler, Alexander Milroy, down the hill to the Bank of America in Westwood to open a small checking account for household expenses. When Milroy handed the bank teller half a million dollars (a lot of money in those days), the word soon got out that there was a new kid on the block. Now established as king of the hill, Kent was ready to open his doors and welcome his guests. For the next 9 years Capo di Monte would become the coveted destination of anybody who was anybody in Hollywood, and getting on Kent's party list would be their ultimate goal.

And so the parties began. Parties of the most lavish and extravagant - no expense was spared. They were excessive and flamboyant. Jeweled women, tuxedoed men, food and wine were plentiful in abundance as were caterers, servants, chauffeurs, valets, orchestras, entertainers, photographers, reporters, flowers, balloons, even sky writers. His parties set a recognizable dignified style unlike the typical Hollywood bashes.

Atwater Kent's Bel Air "party house" Capo di Monte

Making people happy was his goal, but he provided us with a place where culture and glamour met, an elegant kind of entertainment that was new to a city not un-familiar with glitter but in need of of a cultural uplift. Los Angeles in the early years after the war was blooming and ready to be cultivated. It was coming into its own in the world of art. The movies provided the sounds of glamour that were heard around the world. Mavens such as Mme Yeatman Griffith, Cobina Wright, Gloria Vanderbilt, Lady Thelma Furness, and Lady Elsie Medl, the Ahmansons and the Chandlers provided the cultural and social spectrum. They encouraged the arts, fostering talented young people and pioneered our art and music centers. L.A. was in its infancy as an art center compared to European and eastern American cities. (We had to go to San Francisco to catch touring opera companies). When Kent arrived and it became known that his intentions were not to make money but to give it away, he was a very welcome newcomer! The parties were not just frivolous affairs but rather endeavors to further the cultural pursuits of his adopted city. After a lifetime of hard work, he now had a new vocation, a philanthropist. His parties were geared to-wards the assemblage of the heads of worthy organizations, and he opened his wallet for their benefit.

His parties started immediately upon his moving into his "white elephant." Receptions, costume balls, dinners, teas, musicales, debutante balls, parties for children of movie stars and for our boys in uniform during the war - tents dotted the landscape, and clowns came out from under the flowering bushes and under rocks. "Atty," as his friends called him, loved it. He never tired hearing the sounds of laughter and joy from his guests. He repeated these galas over and over, amazing the fortunate party goers by their smoothness and what seemed effortless preparations. The truth is they were carefully planned by the kind of management only a top tycoon can give.

Continued next month.