George Livermore Oral History

ORAL HISTORY PROJECT OF THE MARIN COUNTY FREE LIBRARY Anne T. Kent California Room Original recording available at the Anne T. Kent California Room © All materials copyright Marin County Free Library. Transcript made available for research purposes only. All rights are reserved to the Marin County Free Library. Requests for permission to quote for publication should be addressed to the: Anne T. Kent California Room Marin County Free Library 3501 Civic Center Dr. #427 San Rafael, California, 94903

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INTERVIEW WITH GEORGE LIVERMORE
by Carla Ehat & Anne Kent
October 21, 1980

INTERVIEWEE: George Livermore (GL)
INTERVIEWERS: Carla Ehat (CE) and Anne Kent (AK)
DATE OF INTERVIEW: October 21, 1980
TRANSCRIBER: Marjorie Hoffman

CE: Today is Tuesday, October 21, 1980. Continuing the Oral History Project of the California Room, Marin County Library at Civic Center, once again we are at the residence of Mrs. Thomas Kent in Kentfield, California. We are going to have the pleasure this morning of talking with George Livermore. George Livermore is an architect and is the son of Mr. and Mrs. Norman Banks Livermore, who for many years resided in Marin County, in Ross. Today George is going to share with us a history of his family. Caroline Sealy Livermore is a name well known in the community, a woman who has given so much of her life to the conservation cause and the acquisition of private lands for public use. It's a pleasure to have you here, George. Could we start a little bit about the Livermore heritage? I understand it started in this country in Maine with your great grandfather, was that?

GL: That's right, Carla. Actually it was Deacon Elijah Livermore who built the house in Livermore, Maine, it was named after him. My great grandfather Horatio Gates Livermore was born in Livermore, Maine. Moved to Boston with his family, his wife and two sons and then walked across the United States as a pioneer in 1850.

CE: Walked?

GL: Walked. He said only rich people had horses in those days, so he walked. But actually it isn't as bad as it sounds because those wagon trains went awfully slowly.

CE: About three miles an hour, I understand, yes.

GL: And then it took ninety days. So he came in 1850, that's the beginning of --

CE: Did he ever keep a journal, to your knowledge?

GL: He kept a journal and it's an amazing journal, it's nothing very exiting about it, no Indians or anything like that, but we have the journal.

CE: In the family papers?

GL: Yes. And some of it is sort of worn out, but we have most of it, in 1850.

CE: What did he do when he came to California, where did he settle?

GL: Well, when he came he did not seek gold but he did what he knew best, and that is water power, because Livermore Falls had lumber and water power there and he --

CE: Where was Livermore Falls?

GL: Well, that's up at the same place, Livermore, Livermore Falls, East Livermore, West Livermore, all that stuff, in Maine. So he ended up in Georgetown, up in the mountains in the Mother Lode --

CE: El Dorado County?

GL: El Dorado County. And became a state senator in 1852. He used to go down to the sessions at Benicia. Then he built the Folsom Dam, which is the beginning of the Pacific Gas & Electric Company.

CE: That was the first dam on the American River then, wasn't it?

GL: First dam on the river and the longest electricity in the United States was the 22 miles from Folsom to Sacramento. That's what he did. Then his son, Horatio Putnam Livermore, came around the Isthmus in 1856.

CE: Was he also born, then, back in Maine?

GL: He was born in Boston. So he had a job, he was a young boy, but he had a job already. He said he wasn't going to come out and just sort of seek gold. He had a job with Coffin-Redington Company, which was a wholesale druggist. So he came in ‘56.

CE: 1856. Did he stay with that company?

GL: He stayed with that company, I guess for about 20 years or so and became a partner, and then they had a quicksilver mine up at Knoxville where they have just discovered all that gold. And he was married; he married a local girl, Mattie Banks, whose father was a banker. They came from New York City. He married in 1868 and moved to Oakland. Oakland was a respectable place in those days, and everybody jokes about it now but it was "the" place to live.

CE: I understand he had many diversified business interests, your grandfather?

GL: Yes he had really four things. It was very tempting not to go in different things. He was a wholesale druggist, that was his main business, then he got into quicksilver mine up in Knoxville because quicksilver was used in mining gold and silver.

CE: Oh, yes, had to have that amalgamation, didn't you?
GL So that was his other big interest, then he --

CE: Did he go into power too, electric power?

GL: Well, he sort of did, his father did more of that, but he went into the PG&E, he was active in it. But another thing he did was Kern County Lands. He had a big piece of property down near Bakersfield. But, as he said so many times, “Pioneers start things and other people make the money.”

CE: Well, now, he had the reputation of being the father of Russian Hill. What does that mean?

GL: Well, I will tell you what happened there. During “financial reverses,” I love that expression, people had “financial reverses,” so he sold his Oakland place, which is now the Claremont Country Club.

CE: That was his home?

GL: That was his home. And moved to Russian Hill in 1895. I'm living in that house right now. It's a wonderful old shingled house, all remodeled by Willis Polk and just great. And he lived there and saved the house during the fire. I mean, the earthquake and fire of 1906. He stayed up on the roof and put the sparks out. He died in 1916 in that house.

CE: You didn't know him, then?

GL: I didn't know him, no. So, that’s Horatio --

CE: Sounds like a colorful, resourceful man.

GL: Well, he must have been a wonderful person, he certainly was. But as I say, he spread himself a little bit too thin, I think. And then --

CE: Well, did Willis Polk, then, sort of developed that little cul-de-sac up the hill?
GL Yeah, Willis Polk used to live there. It was very interesting, in the basement -- He and Addison Mizner, you know, who did all of Palm Beach, they were young draftsmen who lived in the basement of the house, and they remodeled it when they lived there. Then when my grandparents moved in, he built his own house next door and, my grandfather hired him to do those Russian Hill ? .

CE: He probably gave him his start, then?

GL: I think he probably did, yeah, he gave him his start.

CE: Well, you're surrounded by some high-rises there, as I recall?

GL: Yes.

CE: Didn't your sister-in-law, Mrs. Kent, Sophie live in a place where we went over there and looked down on --

GL: Yes, Sophie lived in 945 Green, which was the "Spite Building.” Very interesting story. Bricker built this building up there, and the other man said, “If you build that building, I'll build six inches away from your windows with a view and surround you in the back, too,” which he did, and that's where Sophie lived.

CE: It's like the story of a hundred years ago on Nob Hill when Crocker built his beautiful mansion where Grace Cathedral is. There was a funny little house on that corner and that “spite” fence, you know, he didn't want to look down on that thing.

GL: No, no, we have a picture of it; it's not just a story.

CE: It's the truth.

GL: Yes.

CE: Well, tell me, was it your grandfather, Horatio Putnam Livermore, that acquired the Montesol, your country property?

GL: Yes, he was the one. My grandmother, his first wife, when up there with tuberculosis, the same month Robert Louis Stevenson went.

CE: Was his first wife Helen Eels?

GL: No - Mattie Banks was his first wife. Eels was his second wife. Then he bought this piece of property to be near her while she was in the sanitarium there. And Stevenson really recovered quite well when he was nursed back to health there by his wife and went back to Scotland. But my grandmother didn't recover, she died, she was just too far gone, I guess. But he went back there every summer since; that was 1880, with his new wife.

CE: That's interesting, your comparison with Robert Louis Stevenson, and that was the turning point in his life.

GL: It really was and I think that was before the great sanitariums in Switzerland and this Dr. Blake who was way ahead of his time, and he said that hot air was good for your lungs. So of course you know he died very young, but nevertheless he contributed a great deal to the world.

CE: Oh, 40 years, a marvelous man. Can you locate the site for us, verbally without using a map?

GL: Yes.

CE: You go up -- What is that highway? 29?

GL: You go up Highway 29. On the very top of the hill, where you have to start going down, there's a Robert Louis Stevenson Park.

CE: Yes, and I've parked and walked up that trail to see it.

GL: Yes, and you go up the trail and there's a little tablet where his shack was, boy it was a shack, too. He describes, of course, in his book the Silverado Squatters the fogs and the smells.

CE: Well, how is your place in relation to that?

GL: Our place is beyond that, we used to own right up to that, almost.

CE: You did?

GL: Yes. And then that's all part of the State Park. But our place is down the hill --

CE: You go down the hill and then where?

GL: Off to the right. And so we still love the old place and just had our centennial and Anne went --

CE: I know, she showed me the invitation and there's quite a few places here that you -- like there is Octagon here and there's Pennies Point. This is the main house that you talk about?

GL: Yes, right there.

CE: And that was the original eight acres?

GL: Yes that's right. And then we expanded. See my father -- We've had thirds, about, you see, my grandfather owned a third of a hundred years. He owned a third and my father had a third and we five brothers had a third. So it is very, kind of, interesting.

CE: I see. Well, let's talk a little about your parents, as long as we have mentioned your mother let's get to --

GL: My grandfather had five children, four girls and one boy, and my father was the only son, so he inherited the ranch. In 1916 we moved into the old Russian Hill place, too.

CE: Where was your father born?

GL: In Oakland.

CE: He was born in Oakland. Do you know the year?

GL: 1872. Then his sister, Beth Livermore, went to Vassar College and one of her great friends was my mother, Caroline Sealy from Texas. So she came here to visit her roommate and she met her brother, so she very cagily planned a packtrip up in the Sierras, and they were engaged on the packtrip.

CE: Well, I understand that she -- Galveston was the home of her family, of course, and her father was the banker.

GL: Her father was a banker, George Sealy, and I'm George Sealy Livermore.

CE: I noticed all of you boys have Sealy, most of you, as a middle name.

GL: Well, three of us have Sealy, yes. My mother family is very close and so they -- as she moved way out here to the sticks and she didn't want to lose her Sealy tradition.

CE: Well, let's talk more about your mother. Did she ever feel like a transplant from Texas when she came out here?

GL: Oh, I think she did very much, yes. She didn’t know anybody.

CE: Well, you children were born and raised in the city most of your lives.

GL: Yes, born and raised. She came out as a bride in 1910 and didn't know anybody at all except Beth, her friend. So they had a little apartment in San Francisco but they moved right up to Russian Hill in about two years, but she got very active in the church. She always felt that was the first way to get started in a community.

CE: And, you know, that is traditionally so important. You know Margaret Foster?

GL: Yes, yes.

CE: Margaret Foster Abbott, she was talking about her father who came west with an introduction saying, “See the local minister in San Francisco.”

GL: Yes, I think that was --

CE: Mr. Scott, and then he married the daughter --

GL: Yes. The sects never mixed, of course, you never met anyone Catholic or Jewish or anything like that and it was sort of hard, because in San Francisco, which is a Catholic, Jewish city, you know, how do you do it? So she was a devout Episcopalian and --

CE: Well, did she become involved in Grace Cathedral then?

GL: No, it was Trinity Church. And Mrs. Monteagle was the great church lady at that time. Mother was having a baby right off the bat and she said, "Well, we'll allow you to have your baby, but then I have all these things that you've got to do in the church."

CE: She got her orders early!

GL: She got her orders early by a wonderful person. And, of course, it ended up she was the first woman on a Standing Committee in the whole United States, which is a big honor. Church work was only part of her work, as you know, but she started early on that. Then she also did a fascinating thing, she and Dr. Adelaide Brown used to tell people about birth control, which was absolutely against the law, you know. So they did a lot of illegal things there.

CE: Farsighted things.

GL: Farsighted, yes. In telling these poor women that you don't have to have a baby, you see, so that was kind of a far out thing.

CE: You talk about Dolly Cushing Jenkins, she tells a story, also, with Planned Parenthood, she was trying to get a booth on Treasure Island and Mr. Frank Foge, was it, who called her into his office and closed the transoms and said, "We can't have this," and she said, "Well, why not? You’re selling contraceptives right in the drugstore here on Treasure Island.” But these people were so ahead of their time --

GL: Yes. So I would say the church was her first big thing, she was in the -- Of course, women did all the work in the church, but they weren't allowed to be on anything, of course, typical old chauvinistic world, and so then she lived for twenty years in the city.

CE: And you and your brothers born in the city?

GL: All born in the city. But the thing is, the reason we got started in Marin County was that my father's relatives, the Eels’ lived over here, Charles Eels, and they had a Willis Polk house up here, country house. Of course, in Marin County in those days, it was so country, you know, there was no, even, heat in the building.

CE: Where was the home?

GL: Well, that was way up on Upper Road in Ross, I think it's still there, I don't know. So my mother thought if she ever moved out of the city or had a country place or something, she would go this way because she had relatives to start with, see --

CE: Rather than down the peninsula -

GL: Rather than down the peninsula. And so they bought what use to be called the Eisberg place, they bought that house, and that was their country place until 1916. They always loved Marin County, they came over every summer and had a lot of friends with that area there, the Dibblees and the Kittles and the Coffin's and the Kent’s and everybody they knew .

CE: Schmeidels.

GL: Schmeidels, right next door to them. So Mother became very friendly as a young bride with all those people and then, of course, she had to go back to the city. I mean in the winter, it was the way everyone did. So, when she had to leave in 1916, she just hated to do that because she suddenly had her mother-in-law's two houses to take care of, so she sold the house on Russian Hill and moved into the big house there. She sold the house in Ross and went up to the ranch, you see. So then she thought, well, someday we'll come back. So finally Allan Kittle just gave a piece of property to my father, I mean I don’t know what it cost but it was awfully cheap, 50 acres, imagine?

CE: Up in --

GL: Ross.

CE: Canyon Road, where you built a home?

GL: Canyon Road, yes. Then we built that home in 1931. Between 1916 and 1931, we hadn't lived in Marin County.

CE: I have seen -- You're aware of this, I'm sure, that there are some beautiful glossy copies of that home, exterior and interior, in the archives of the Independent Journal.

GL: Oh, good, fine, yes, because I have lots of pictures, of course, but I didn't know how to --

AK: But we don’t have them --

CE: We don't have them; they don't let you copy those. So, if possible, if we could arrange to have a copy --

GL: And then when she came at that time, at that time was before the Golden Gate Bridge was built, you see, and that's when she really got into civic work. Of course she went into the church again, but she -- One of the first things she did was to get the billboards off the road. In other words, at the time the bridge was finished, that ordinance was already passed so there would be no billboards on the bridge approach.

CE: Well, Helen Baker Reynolds, that name may or may not be familiar to you. We interviewed her in the city and she's another woman like your mother who has done much to beautify the California highways. There were fortunately a few women around. Dorothy Ward Erskine, another name, who were concerned, way ahead of their time about the beauty and the preservation.

GL: Oh, yes, they really were way ahead. Of course, another thing is that they lived here the year around, you see, except for the Kent family, most of these people were only summer residents. At least a lot of them.

CE: Yes, a lot of them, that's true.

GL: Like the Schmeidels, the Greenes and all those people. So she had all the winter to work over here, too, when the summer residents were just coming over here to play tennis you see and get all the gravy of Marin County, mother was working all year around on this stuff.

CE: All right, let's talk about some of the things she's done. I understand she was co-founder and the first president of the Marin Conservation League way in the early ‘30s.

GL: Yes, way, way back there.

CE: There was no group extant at that time?

GL: No.

CE: That was concerned about --

GL: I think that was Mrs. Evers, Van Pelt, and Portia Forbes, those four ladies.

CE: What would she do, create these meetings in her home?

GL: Yes, she would have meetings and then they would go out.

CE: Mrs. Kent is very effective that way; she will have people to her home and do things.

GL: That's what mother did all the time, as a matter of fact, that house was never a home to me because I was already in college, but people used to call it the town hall.

CE: Unofficial town hall.

GL: I remember a funny story, there was a balcony in the living room that had two posts that kind of blocked the view when she wanted to have a huge group, and she knew if she asked my father, he’d say no, of course, because it was so expensive. So she planned the whole thing (it's a wonderful story) to have the entire thing done in one day while he was gone. And the carpenter came in, took out the posts and put a huge beam in, and, of course, then she could have a hundred people, sitting way down the hall -- I'm sure you went to some of those things, Anne.

AK: Yes, I sure did.

GL: And she started out by having musicals, of course, always for benefits, you know -- One friend said, "I'd love to come to see your house but it's always a dollar admission." There was always one of the younger boys sitting at the front door with a card table, you know, saying, “this was for this cause, and this is for that cause.” So she raised a lot of money.

CE: Where did she get this? Is this a Sealy ingredient? Is this a Galveston, Texas temperament?

GL: I don't think it is. It could be the Irish in us. But I think most of all, she saw a void that needed filling, that's really what mother did. Because my other aunts lived in Connecticut and there wasn't much to do there, you know. She saw the bridge going up and she said, "There aren't going to be any billboards," you see, and she saw this land over here being used up and then she would get in and argue with the supervisors and --

CE: Well, that's another thing I want to talk about. With three other members of the Marin Garden Club, Mrs. Van Pelt, you mentioned, Mrs. Albert Evers and Mrs. John Franklin Forbes, they decided they would hire a planning consultant, is this true?

GL: Yes, that's true.

CE: And have a survey done of the entire county at their expense?

GL: Yes, at their expense, yes.

CE: And divide it into recreational, residential and commercial?

GL: Yes.

CE: And then said to the board of supervisors, "What are you going to do about it?” and then hired their first planning commission.

GL: Right. And they had to go in and argue with a bunch of pretty tough fellows. I mean, they were not used to having housewives go and argue with them.

CE: Well, how did she -- What was her demeanor during these sessions? I have seen photographs of your mother; I have heard from Mrs. Kent that she was a very ladylike person. She had presence; she was tall, probably even statuesque, what was her demeanor when conducting a meeting?

GL: Well, I think she always kept her cool as the young people say, never lost her temper --

CE: Always a lady.

GL: She was always a lady. And, of course, that's pretty disarming, you know, some of these volatile supervisors that are used to swearing at each other -- but people never had anyone like that around before, you know, you don't usually have ladies in supervisors meetings, and I think that helped an awful lot.

CE: I think -- Don't you think, too, the fact that she was a woman of some position and prominence helped?

GL: Oh, very much so. Oh, yes.

CE: There's no doubt that that helped her, gave her authority, and --

GL: Oh, yes -- because of her contacts, too. Another thing like that. I noticed for instance one of the last thing she did was get Frank Lloyd Wright as the architect for that thing, when she was really kind of feeble, and the men on the committee said, “Well, we never heard of Frank Lloyd Wright.”

CE: Oh, you're not serious!

GL: My mother said, “He's the most famous architect in America and if he could be persuaded to come, you know, ‘if’ is a big ‘if,’ it would be terrific.” So, of course, Wright came out and, of course, he's the most arrogant, insulting man and

CE: Tremendous ego.

GL: And, of course, it was harder than ever to persuade these people, you know, he was just a terrible ego, in as much as to say, “If you are lucky enough to get me as an architect you’re just going to do as I tell you.” But it's his only public building; did you know that?

CE: No, I didn't.

GL: Only public building he has ever designed.

CE: The others have either been residential or commercial.

GL: Or not done. So anyway, of course, he died before it was finished. But nevertheless, it was Mother who really got him and she just fought these people at that time, see. They sort of thought, “Well.” Another thing I think was important was her contacts because when they were getting the property at Point Reyes, Bruce Kelham was holding out for some terrible price and Mother knew him personally, so she said, "Bruce, you're making a million dollars."

CE: Don't be greedy.

GL: Well, what could he say? But you see another person would not be able to say that personally. I mean, “Isn't that enough? I mean, really, we are doing this for the country and you are holding off with this terrible price.” So I think all those qualities, as you say, helped tremendously, her contacts.

CE: And the timing -- You know, it’s just - did you ever think in life how fortunate it is certain people come around at a certain time? I feel this way about this dear lady.

GL: Yes, it's true. And even Bill Kent, you know, he said, "Your mother's crazy, I think."

CE: Well, getting back to this acquiring private property for public use, Stinson Beach one of her achievements, Camp Taylor, and one of those --

GL: One of the first things I remember was in Inverness, Shell Beach.

CE: Shell Beach on Tomales Bay.

GL: Yes. And Taylor Park. I can't give you the dates on this, but I think Shell Beach was her first big kind of triumph.

CE: Would she came home at night? Of course, you were away at school. What was your father’s reaction to that?

GL: Oh, she talked about it all the time. My father was simply wonderful because, you see, she couldn't have done this if she had married a different type of man because, after all, he was well taken care of, but in those days, housewives just didn't do things like that.

CE: And he was supportive -

GL: I always remember Natalie Green, who was one of her great friends, and she wrote her a beautiful letter, I wish I had it, she said, "Caroline, I admire you so much for the things you have done," and she said, "Some of us rather have our talents wrapped in a napkin." I thought that was beautifully put, don't you, Anne?

AK: Yes.

GL: Because in other words, “I'm not in a position, you see, to do these things because I just have to be there all the time.”

CE: Well, Angel Island, another achievement.

GL: Angel Island; that came a whole lot later. But, of course, then people really thought she was crazy because that was something like 45 acres, I think, and these ladies in her little group just had to put down the money and I mean right away. When Nike site was still around and the rest of the island --

CE: At Mount Ida.

GL: And just as Anne said, you just couldn't tell her something couldn't be done. She said, "This is for up sale, this island, and it's just going to be a Coney Island."

CE: She could envision hot dog stands and billboards all over the county.

GL: We had a day called Angel Island Day, and all of San Francisco was allowed to see the Island, to see whether we wanted to buy it or not, and the city decided against it. They said, “We have enough problems.” So then -- Imagine, you could have bought that whole island for almost nothing. So, this little toe hold is what started the thing. That was one of her greatest accomplishments.

CE: Then, of course, Mount Ida was renamed in memory of your mother.

GL: Renamed for her, that was Aubrey Neasham that did that, he said, “After all it was her idea.” And then another thing I think is very important, she got the Audubon Society to buy all those underwater lots in Richardson Bay.

CE: And then she had the old house moved to -- right across --

GL: Yes that's interesting,. That's --

CE: Lyford House, I’m trying to think.

GL: That's a project we teamed on together; we did that twice. We did that once in the city with the Octagon House. In other words, I got the building and she got the lot. Sam Nider said "George, you can have this building if you can take it away," because he was helping him with the architectural plan there -- And I said, “My gosh, I've just to do something with this, but what am I going to do with it, I just can't move it” -- Meanwhile, Mother got the six acres from the goat lady and we got our neighbor, Tom Crowley, to skid the thing across the channel. So there we had the six acres with the house sitting on the beach. Then Mother said, "We can't leave it sitting on the beach all the time, what are we going to do?" So she met Mrs. Dickey at the symphony and she said, "How would you like to restore this house?" So there she had everything practically free.

CE: I remember when Beth Armstrong -- Armstrong, Carter and Kenyon did that decorating. Well, and then your mother, you see, had the foresight to tell the goat lady that she could live there for her life. See, she had life tenancy and these are all the creative, what they call creative financing today, I guess. She said, "You don't have to move from here; we can make it so it can be your home."

GL: Yes. Also, it was a little bit embarrassing with those goats tethered out there, you know, but that didn't -- We still had the thing done.

CE: Well, then, bringing us closer to home, George, I understand so well that your mother was the driving force to acquire the old Kittle property in Ross and have it rezoned cultural and it ultimately became the Marin Art and Garden Center. What do you know of that story? I interviewed Judge Martinelli and he told me his version of it.

GL: Well, my version of it is this: Allan Kittle, as you know, ate mushrooms and died at the place. So then the place was -- And there was a fire and the family decided to sell the property. Before Mother could get at them, they had already sold two lots. Those two little ones with those two houses --

CE: The little houses were on the corner, Laurel Grove.

GL: And my mother, of course, was just simply horrified. She said, "Why didn't they let me know?" And they said, well, they didn't feel they had to let her know everything. So she said, "You've got to have this for a public place it's the most outstanding piece of land, with those beautiful trees and everything." So Peggy Kittle said, "Well, we want the money." That's logical. So that's about all I know about it except, of course, she got it for an awfully cheap price.

CE: Something like $25,000.

GL: Something like that. And, of course, simply by telling the family that they more or less had to do it. But the two houses were already built and they gradually have got them back.

CE: Well, you know, a lot of people have the misconception that your mother bought it and gave it and that's not true, is it?

GL: No, it's not true.

CE: It's that she assured the financial end of it and then these groups were formed and they each had a hand at the fund raising.

GL: Right, oh, yes.

CE: But she was that support, to say, “Come on let's do it.”

GL: She was the support. Also she was the one in getting the Kittles to make it cheap.

CE: Yes. I remember Judge Jordan Martinelli. Anne, remember the day he was telling about talking over with your mother, he had studied the similar places that had been established in the United States and they had gone very thoroughly into the background, the legal ramifications, and he said something interesting. I don't know if you remember, Anne, that at a point in time down the road, if something “untoward” happened. And he used that Victorian word, that the property, the Board was to see that either the University of California had access to buy it or some other educational group. And I thought that was so fascinating that they had planned that far in advance, in the future.

GL: Yes, that's true.

CE: And he certainly spoke with warm admiration of your mother.

GL: Yes, he just loved mother, there was a great love feast going on there. Then I remember the wall.

CE: Oh, yes, the wall.

GL: They were going to build the wall around there. I suggested that -- There was an old building I was trying to save on the waterfront in San Francisco and so I realized we weren't able to save it, that's all, I said, "Well, if we can't save it, then will you give me the bricks?" So I only had enough bricks, you see, to do -- Reason we designed a serpentine wall was because it is only one brick thick.

CE: I often wondered why that was done.

GL: Yes, it’s only one brick thick, so it uses less bricks.

CE: It wasn’t to emulate Monticello or Jefferson or anything?

GL: Well, it was Jefferson's wall, really; he did it down at the University of Virginia. But that's what I thought of that, then he had enough bricks to do the gate and if you remember it didn't quite go around the corner but they have done that since.

CE: Where did those bricks come from, might I ask?

GL: They came from an old warehouse right down where the Levi Strauss building is now in San Francisco. I don’t know where the new bricks came from, but they all match very nicely.

CE: Well, before we move to your father a bit, I want you to think for a moment, what in your judgment, George, outside of her wonderful family and her love, what she gave to you as a mother, what in your judgment is one of her greatest contributions to Marin?

GL: Well, I would say Angel Island; I think that's the main thing; and the various parks all together. But I would say one thing would be Angel Island. Because although it was a State Park, I mean it was an army thing turned into a State Park; it was her idea. As Sepha Evers always use to say, she said, "We worked very hard but it was really Caroline that carried us."

CE: Well, she had an extraordinary vision, didn't she?

GL: Well, she did. I tell you, she had a tremendous optimism, number one; it was just undefeatable. And she had a tremendous contagion, you see, so I think she --
CE She was a Texan.

GL: She always saw that all the ladies, for instance, got their names in the papers and stuff, they liked all that. Nothing wrong with that,

CE: But it seems like with her love of the church, her closeness to the church, and also her love of music. -- Wasn't that an important part of --

GL: Oh, yes we haven't talked about the Marin Music Chest.

CE: Let's talk about that a moment. Was she in on the beginning of that also?

GL: Oh, yes very early on that. She was musical herself and she helped start the San Francisco Symphony when she first came out as a bride.

CE: Let's talk about that.

GL: She said, "It's amazing that this great city has no symphony," and that was 1912, I think. So she immediately got on that committee and raised money and stuff like that. Then when 1923 came along, when the opera was started, when we had the first party --My aunt gave the first party to raise money in our house on Russian Hill -- with Marilyn and so everyone. It's unusual in 1923 to have a opera company in a small city. So, she's always been very musical, she played the piano and sang very well and has always been very, very musical. So, when she got to Marin County, one of her best friends was Maude Symington. Maud, of course, was very dramatic, you know, consider we're going to have this the great byroad of the west, so --

CE: Well, Marshall Dill, fortunately, who edited and published her memoirs, he came one day and he just told the whole story. She was just something else.

GL: Just amazing. She was great. The only argument she had with Mother was -- She was devout Catholic, of course, and Mother had all these planned children and Maud just though it was terrible. And mother use to say, "Well, Maude, you've never had any children. How can you speak?" But anyway, that was the only thing they disagreed about, was the church. So then when she got over here, one of the first things she did was encourage young students, you see. And to get the -- What's the name of the Catholic school over there? The Convent.

CE: Dominican.

GL: Yes Dominican. To allow us to use the Forest Meadows, and then she and Maude and Corona Anderson sort of between them ran that Music Chest for a long time. I'd sort of forgotten about that. Kitty Oppenheimer was the main person there.

CE: Was she interested in the theater as well?

GL: Yes, very interested. She didn't do anything about the theater.

CE: She wasn't in the Ross Valley Players or anything like that?

GL: No, she wasn't in that, but she was delighted that they moved into the barn that she got from the Kittles, of course.

CE: Well, I noticed in her little biography that’s on file at the Independent Journal, that when she went to Vassar she not only was president of her class but chairman of the class play.

GL: Yes.

CE: So, she was always a doer.

GL: Yes, she was always a doer, she was always a leader, ever since she was a little girl, I think really. She was important in her family of eight children. But, she went off to school, imagine, sixteen years old, took the boat around to New York to go to school.

CE: From Galveston.

GL: Yes, amazing. That's gets you pretty independent. Then she went to Miss Spencer's school in New York and then on to Vassar. In those days, people didn't go to college, I mean, ladies didn't go to college, that was pretty far out. So, of course, she always enjoyed educated people, I'll say that. I mean, she was never interested in society at all. She just enjoyed creative, intelligent people with causes.

CE: With causes. I imagine she was an avid reader.

GL: Avid reader and so was my father. He used to, in the days we all grew up -- Someday I'm going to write about my childhood because -- you know what it's going to be titled? It's going to be titled Abnormal Serenity. The reason is the doctor told me that once when I was having trouble with the children, he said, "Mr. Livermore, you must realize that you grew up with abnormal serenity." I thought that was a marvelous expression.

CE: Well, let's move on to your father for a bit, could we?

GL: All right.

CE: You mentioned earlier that he was born in Oakland in 1872

GL: Yes.

CE: And where was his schooling?

GL: He went to school in Oakland and the University of California, but he went on to the engineering school in Cornell, so that he had that eastern experience.

CE: Did he ever go to Thacher?

GL: No.

CE: That was the children -- Tour generation?

GL: Thacher started in ‘89 so he was not old enough, no -- All of us did, of course.

CE: The boys went to Thacher Engineering School and then UC Berkeley.

GL: Yes. That's another tie, see, we had with the Kent family.

CE: Well, what was your father's interests?

GL: Well, he was always interested in engineering, as a young man he surveyed the American River for dam sites, when he got out of college. Went up -- a lot of those dam sites that are up there now. Which tied in with his father's work and his grandfather's work, you see. Then, he spent a year in San Diego as head of the water works down there and he surveyed at Key West. So, he moved around quite a lot as a young man out of college. Finally, he decided -- Someone said, “Why don't you become the distributor of the American Locomotive Company, because there is no agent here in San Francisco and you've got wonderful contacts and are hardworking?” So he did. So, he went into the machinery business, of steam shovels, locomotives, and that's what he did for most of his life until he got into -- Well, he was a director, of course, of PG&E, Cal Pak and a director of an awful lot of things, but that was his main business that he built up, his machinery business. So, he did that. He was still going to the office when he was 80 years old.

CE: And when did he die?

GL: He died in ’53, he was 81. But he'd be still alive, I think, but he had one of those terrible automobile accidents in the Waldo Grade and it sort of smashed him up, I think, and eventually killed him, I think.

CE: Was he interested in the Sierra Club?

GL: He was a very shy man; he was musical, for instance, but would never do anything in the musical way.

CE: He would love to go to the symphony?

GL: Well, not the symphony, but I mean, he sang very well and he always loved Fritz Kreisler, I remember. So he was musically inclined, he wasn't tone deaf or anything like that. But I think his biggest interests were out-of-door things. He went to World War I, which was an amazing thing when he already had two children, so I don't think he had to go, but he felt it was his duty and he went for two years and became a Major, Engineering Major, in France. And then, in 1923, he took a year’s hunting trip, he was a great hunter, to Africa and he was the first white man in Ngorongoro Crater in 1923. And, of course, always loved a ranch. that was his biggest love in the world, I guess.

CE: He got this property from his father, your grandfather, is that right?

GL: Yes, that's right. 1916, that's right. So, he decided to make it pay and that was his hobby instead of having boats or something like that he made a walnut ranch out of the -- Montesol, we call it. He saw those walnuts growing in France and he thought he'd try it here.

CE: So it was a paying thing then?

GL: It was a paying thing yes. He was determined to make the place pay where it had been only a summer resort, you see. I'd say that this was his -- His biggest interest was reading and the out-of-doors.

CE: Do you resemble your father?

GL: I look like him, but I don't resemble him in temperament because I'm just the opposite. I'm a ham actor. I'm a member of the Bohemian Grove and I love to sing.

CE: Well, we'll get to you, we'll get to you next. Is there anything else you'd like to say further about your dad?

GL: No, except that he was just a marvelous person and a rock in the family and he loved Mother to do these things. She couldn't have done them if he'd said, “Look, I don't want you to go to the church convention.”

AK: May I say something? I remember that he told Tom that he built that wonderful house, and you know, it was the depression time he built it.

GL: Yes.

AK: He built it deliberately to give jobs and there were certainly a great, great many jobs to build that wonderful place.

GL: Yes. That was one of the reasons. They told him to borrow the money to help the depression, you see. Of course, it almost killed him but it helped those other people. And he loved the garden and -- But he actually was just a wonderful, as I say "rock" in the family and fine figurehead, I tell you. I look up to him so today.

CE: Well, George, let's get to you now and then to some of your other brothers. You were born in San Francisco?

GL: I was born in San Francisco in the old Russian Hill house.

CE: At home?

GL: Yes. And you know Dorothy Erskine's mother was a doctor.

CE: Sure. Did she deliver you?

GL: She delivered all five of us children. So we are very close to Gene and Dorothy. As a matter of fact, they were both up at our party and I had a picture of them, as two little girls were up there.

CE: I think they're fascinating people, too. She gave us several interviews and I'm very appreciative of that. What year were you born?

GL: I was born in 1914.

CE: What is your birth date?

GL: March 18th. When my mother came out here, she not only didn’t know anybody, but she had babies in hospitals, which, of course, was kind of unusual, and simply because her friend at school, Florence Ward, was the mother of her Vassar friend, see. So that is why she met her. And she said "Well, I just like you so much, Dr. Ward, that would you deliver my children?" So they were all delivered in her hospital there. Which is now the St. Francis Hospital.

CE: And look at how far ahead or her time she was! When I was talking to Dorothy Ward Erskine, I said "Can you think what your mother did in those days?"

GL: Oh, imagine that little girl going to medical school, nobody did that, this was 1880, of course. But that's another wonderful story. So, then we were all born there and then we went to a little school next door called Miss Paul's School. Wonderful school.

CE: Miss Paul's School.

GL: The -- I think the reason we all speak French reasonably well now is that we had a wonderful mademoiselle there. I used to sing French songs and talk French before I even knew what French was, you know. But that was a marvelous school and we got a great base of learning there and reading. We could read at six years old, you know, now people don't read at sixteen.

CE: And this was just around the corner?

GL: Right around the corner on Russian Hill. Then we went to the Potter's School, which was a boys’ school on Pacific and Gough, which was a reasonably good school. I wouldn't say it was outstanding. Then we all went to Thacher School, of course,

CE: How did you enjoy that experience?

GL: Well, I think it is one of the greatest experiences I've ever had. I just feel as though that is the greatest thing for adolescent boys, to be in a setting like that. Of course, Sherman Thacher was there when I was and that was just one of the great experiences. I still think of the things he told me, 50 years later, you know. So, we went to the Thacher School because of a -- There again, the Eels family were our relatives and Jack Eels had gone there, he was older than we were, and also Silas Palmer was one of my father's great friends and his two boys had gone there. Then, of course, this was before we moved over here and got to know all the Kent's, but it just seems so perfect the combination of Montesol and Thacher - are two enormous things in our lives. Than my oldest boy went there and my nephews have gone there, all five of us went there. So I would say Thacher and Montesol were kind of the two biggest influences in our lives.

CE: What did you finally -- You went to the University of California?

GL: No, I went to Stanford.

CE: Oh, you went to Stanford.

GL: Stanford. And I didn't -- I wanted to be an architect, see, but there was no architecture school there, so I went to Yale after Stanford for four years. So then I finally got to New Haven because Mr. Thacher always talked about it. He didn't say “Yale,” you know, he'd say “New Haven.” So that was nice. It was awfully hard work, but I graduated from Yale and then, of course, just got right into the army.

CE: Just in time.

GL: Just in time. Eight years of college to build you up for the army. Then I had five years in the army.

CE: Where did you serve?

GL: Well, I was, served most of the time in New Caledonia where I got another crack at my French. Nuevo Caledone, they call it. It got a little tiresome, but I could have been in a worse place.

CE: You came out alive.

GL: Came out alive. All five of us did. My mother always said, “Well, of course, it’s not possible for all five to come home, but they all did.” She said that's what her strong faith does.

CE: When did you start to practice your profession?

GL: I started practice when I came home, 1946.

CE: Did you go into business for yourself?

GL: No. I started out with Arthur Brown, who was a great architect. I owe so much to him and his sense of refinement and scale. Because I realized I didn't want to be what they call a modern architect. So I started out in his office and then gradually branched off on my own. I had enough night work to get into alteration work, is what I like, and I really kind of specialized -- I've done a lot of houses but --

CE: Have you done any restorative work?

GL: Oh, yes I do mostly that. So I've been doing that for 25 years now. I used to do quite a few houses but it's too expensive now and I'm slowing up, I'm gradually kind of retiring.

CE: What are some houses that you are particularly pleased with?

GL: Well, I used to do ranch houses. I loved ranch houses, until I found out I was burning the highways --

CE: Traveling so much?

GL: Yeah, traveling too much. But I just loved up in Sonoma County, I did Allen Lowry’s house up there on the hill, beautiful. I just finished a French house in Novato which is really beautiful.

CE: French country house?

GL: Absolutely French, French doors and windows, you'd think you were in France. In Novato, which is kind of a funny location for it. Then I did a lot of houses in Woodside

CE: Woodside. Wasn't that sort of the domain of William Wooster?

GL: Yes.

CE: Was he a contemporary of yours or -- He was older?

GL: I worked for him

CE: He was older than you.

GL: He was older, but I worked for him. And then I started getting into civic work right away and I guess that's sort of a family trait, so sometimes I wonder if I'm working for myself or the city. Right now I'm head of the light opera of San Francisco and Los Angeles and that takes an awful lot of work, of course, but I love it. And I've had every hat of the church you can think of, you name it, I've had it.

CE: Speaking of the opera, I was thinking of Louise Davies the other day when she was approached so frequently about her largess in contributing to the building, Center for the Performing Arts, and she said, "Well, I did it because my husband had the money and I gave it." I was thinking your mother probably would have enjoyed that whole experience.

GL: Oh, yes, she would have loved that. When she gave the Five Brothers’ Windows at the Cathedral, you know, it's a funny story, because --

CE: I don't know that.

GL: Yes. It's the only window that's given for Thanksgiving, which I think is a lovely story.

CE: Tell us about it.

GL: You know, you always have to be dead before anyone does anything. Incidentally, it's the only thing that's been given on Thanksgiving. She thought it would establish an idea. My father said, "Well, that's the dumbest thing,” he said, “I will plant five Sequoia trees and they will live two thousand years." And she said, “Some boys will throw rocks through your windows or something like that.” And mother said, "Yes, but you forgot to water the trees." They're all dead now. And she said, "I watered my Christianity and my windows are up there still."

CE: And this is in Grace Cathedral?

GL: In Grace Cathedral. And as the tour guide goes around, you know, it's a big thing because this is the Five Brothers’ Windows in Thanksgiving. But, it's funny that all beautiful things all over the world, everything is always done “in memory of.”

CE: Well, that's why I think what's unique about our own little Marin Art and Garden Center Moya Library that Jose Moya Del Pino, who did that lovely portrait of your mother, decided he wanted something done while he was still alive and could kind of check on it. Wasn't that the way it happened?

AK: Yes.

CE: Tell us about the painting, did you commission that for your mother?

GL: No, I didn't.

CE: Who did that?

GL: I don't know who commissioned that and I don't specially like it, really.

CE: No.

GL: It's colorful. I just can't tell you about that.

CE: It was unveiled in 1958.

GL: Obviously, she didn't pay for it. You know, I think maybe Moya did that himself, free.

AK: I think he did, too.

GL: I think he did.

CE: She was so beloved by so many people.

GL: I think he did, I think he just said, “This will be my contribution. I'll do this portrait.” And his wife, is she still alive?

CE: No. Helen Moya.

GL: She was so fond of Mother. I remember that. And then, of course, her work with the Garden Club. Of course, she did so many things. I'm supposed to be talking about myself but I'm talking about getting back to her.

CE: Well, I know, let's get back to whatever.

GL: Because that sort of ends me, I've just been a good civic duty person and I'm proud of my profession but that's nothing like the facets my mother went into. I forgot about the Garden Club.

CE: The Marin Garden Club.

GL: She was a member at large because Marin -- The Marin Garden Club was not a member of the American Garden Club, so she was made a member at large, which is a special thing, and was always interested in things that would grow here.

CE: You had a beautiful garden.

GL: Yes, we were lucky to get Mr. Dawson before he died, he was of the Homestead Brothers, and I think he made a real study and helped mother on western native plants. My father had a rock garden that was really something. But anyway, that's another thing, it was not one of her civic things but it was one of her big loves was gardens and the Garden Club of America.-- she went off on those trips so often. Of course, her hobby was antiques, she loved antiques.

CE: Well, staying with the garden for a moment, was it that interest that brought about the dedication of the Norman Livermore Room at the California Academy of Science?

GL: No, that was just the opposite, see that was my father’s hunting trip, remember? He went in 1923 and he had already given a lot of heads to the Academy of Science and that was his big interest. So that after he died, we gave the room in memory of him. That's nothing to do with mother at all.

CE: No, but isn't that room for the botanists to study?

GL: Oh, yes, it is, but that's what the Academy decided. We just simply gave them the room and they used it for Alice Eastwood stuff because Mother was so fond of Alice Eastwood.

CE: Oh, I see.

GL: So that's all, that’s what this Norman B. Livermore room was, it's sort of a funny picture, you wonder what's in it.

CE: Now, in the little bit of time we have left this morning, tell us a little bit about your brothers, would you? We have just a few minutes, maybe five, who's the eldest? Are you the eldest?

GL: Norman is the eldest.

CE: Norman Banks Livermore, Jr.

GL: Norman is the perfect older brother he guided us all. I tell you. And he has always been a great out-of-door person like his father. He first started in the Sierras. He organized the Sierra Packer Association.

CE: All right, we have to move on; who's next?

GL: And then John is the third one, he is a mining engineer. He's lived all over the world with Newmont Mining Company. The fourth one is Horatio Putnam Livermore, although the name is Putnam now, he's a lawyer with Chickoring and Gregory.

CE: Are you the second son?

GL: I'm the second, yes. And then the youngest is Bob, Robert, who is a rancher. So he helps us up at the ranch tremendously.

CE: Oh, so he's up at --

GL: Well, no he lives in Danville, but he's in the ranching business.

CE: Tell me, what is the significance of Putnam?

GL: Well, I don't know. I know it is a good New England name.

CE: I was talking to Lucia Gromme just the other day. You know, her husband died just last week.

GL: Oh, he did? I didn't know that.

CE: And I was telling her that I was going to talk with you and she said, the Kittles, her grandparents, were very good friends of the Putnam Livermore's and I was very confused of who she was talking about.

GL: Yes. Well, that's Putnam because he dropped the name Horatio. He didn't like that so now he's just plain “Putnam.”

CE: I see. She said they use to call him “Raish.”

GL: Yes, that's why he hated that always. Actually now he's just plain Putnam Livermore and he also was head of the Republican Central Committee in San Francisco, so he's in politics.

CE: But none of your brothers are in politics?

GL: No, except that my older brother was Director of Resources under Reagan.

CE: Well, George, I certainly want to thank you so much for coming and sharing with us just briefly, and the hour has flown by, of the story of your family. Maybe sometime we can return and go a little in-depth about any of these subjects. I feel we really haven't done justice by you today, but I did want to get your reminiscences of your mother and your father and certainly Marin County.

GL: And also the fact that they came early and then hoped to come back

CE: Yes, yes. Mrs. Kent?

AK: Well, I wanted to hear much more, of course, much more.

CE: Well, if you would arrange it some time with Mrs. Kent, it would be our pleasure

GL: This is a good beginning.

CE: Thank you.