17 Con Man or More Complicated?

“I am sure that others who know under what trying circumstances I have struggled, will be inspired by my ability to rise above my handicaps and environment.”

— Grif in his 1912 letter pledging $100,000 for an observatory and hall of science at Griffith Park

 

How did Griffith Jenkins Griffith end up on the path of enlightened but violent egomaniac? Was it inevitable? Should acquaintances have seen it coming? Was he a treasure-digging con man, as Tina’s family insisted, or a well-meaning but troubled soul soaked in alcohol?

A local judge who knew Grif well reflected on the complicated man in correspondence with Van years after Grif died. “Col. Griffith was a man of many parts,” James Pope wrote in a letter archived with the Griffith Family Papers. “A man who bored some people … while others from the same material got intense interest. The same acts got him bitter enmity from some persons and great admiration from others. He had peculiarities which marked him in the eyes of some as eccentric while others thought exactly the opposite.”

Other contemporaries were less diplomatic, zeroing in on what the Herald once called Grif’s “all-consuming egotism”.^[1] Respected journalist Harry Carr, in his memoir, recalled Grif as “the most pompous man I have ever seen. He had a strut, a gold-headed cane, a flower in his buttonhole and a patronizing little snicker.”^[2] Having covered Grif’s trial, Carr was certain that alcohol had played a role in the shooting: “He became addicted to strong drink and with each drink became more pompous.”

The central question is whether that ego, combined with alcohol, was a reflection of something deeper? Was he a twisted creature hiding behind a dapper facade? Earl Rogers, Grif’s criminal attorney, felt that alcohol had created a “Jekyll and Hyde” personality, at least when it came to Grif’s relationship with Tina. So perhaps he was two creatures: the gentlemanly Jekyll and the savage Hyde. It’s clear that alcohol unleashed his Hyde, but where did that creature come from? Perhaps it took root in his childhood. In his autobiography, Grif does not say he was neglected, but it is clear that his parents left him to fend for himself. One of nine siblings, Grif wrote of a hard childhood — after his parents divorced and his mother became too sick to take care of him, he moved in with his maternal grandparents. He was 8 when they died and then he split the next few years with an aunt and his father, who employed him driving a horse team hauling coal.

Unwanted and unattached, Grif would have to do whatever it took to survive. And he not only did that — first jumping at the chance to travel with an uncle to America — but he would also find ways to thrive. His actions were driven not by a moral code but by an instinct to survive, thrive and eventually achieve. Perhaps his ego, and eventually his prodigious thirst for alcohol, made him feel that he could do no wrong, or at least he could always justify everything he did. Grif’s actions weren’t always ethical or well-received, but they made sense to him.

Is that a con man, a man with conviction, or a man conflicted? Perhaps it was more complicated than any of those labels. The survive-and-thrive scenario makes even more sense when looking at some conjectures, or what ifs, about Grif’s life. What if doing “whatever it takes to thrive” meant that things weren’t always what they appeared with Grif? What if Grif juggled the pressures of multiple business ventures with a wife determined to control her inheritance?

What if he often lied, misrepresented, misled or simply stretched the truth, thinking that’s what it took to survive and thrive? The “colonel” title that he slapped on was the most obvious inflation. Grif never disclosed how he attained it and, while he had served in the California National Guard, the highest rank he achieved was major. Tina claimed in court that Gov. Markham had bestowed “colonel” as an honorary courtesy, but no state records exist to confirm that.^[3]

Below are several “what ifs” detailed at length so as to support the argument that Grif was more complicated than just labeling him a fortune hunter, con man or deranged husband. The idea is not to excuse his actions, but to explain them.

What if Grif fudged his age to appear younger? In his autobiography, Grif states he was born on January 4, 1850. But later events and records showed various birth years. His 50^th birthday, for example, was feted with a big Hollywood party in 1902, which would have meant he was born in 1852. And different birth years show up in records over time: Marriage (1851), 1892/1896 voter registrations (1852), and 1900 U.S. Census (1853). What’s interesting is that as Grif got older his birth year got younger. Even if it was just a shallow attempt to retain some youth, it would show a vain Grif motivated to protect his persona — the youthful, dapper entrepreneur who went by colonel.

What if Grif had a violent temper going back decades? Tina’s shooting was a shock in part because it didn’t seem to fit Grif’s public demeanor — debonair, gentlemanly, very aware of his stature. The trial exposed his violent threats against Tina and afterwards, through the disclosure by one of Tina’s attorneys, Los Angeles learned of an earlier Grif. It turns out that in 1878, while apparently flourishing in San Francisco’s newspaper world, his investment in a mining venture went bad and he wanted his money back. That led him to one George Schultz, who had run the failed Justice mine, and a street altercation where Grif pulled out a gun to, in the words of the San Francisco Chronicle on March 22, “periorate the portly form of George Schultz”. Police happened by and arrested Grif for carrying a concealed weapon. Soon after, Grif appeared at Schultz’s office to demand $1,400. When Schultz protested he didn’t have that cash on him, Grif told Schultz to remove his hat, raise his hand and swear he would get it by the next day. When Grif returned and flashed a gun in his breast pocket to make his point, police who had been contacted by Schultz swarmed in and again arrested Grif. Bailed out by two friends, he apparently avoided trial when it could not be proven he pointed the gun directly at Schultz.

Then in 1885, and now in Los Angeles, Grif came to fisticuffs at his office with a stonemason demanding money for work that Grif said had already been paid. The Times covered it on the front page of Sunday, August 16, with the headline: The Logic of the Fist. (Mind you it was a small town back then and a good brawl made for news.) “Words swelled to blows,” the Times reported. “Griffith declares that upon his refusal to pay, McDonald smote him”, while the stonemason insisted Grif struck first, “slugging him on the head with an inkstand… They had a very cordial free fight in the little office and in the hall at the head of the stairs… During the melee, they wrenched out two of the stair-banisters, and used them for clubs until separated. Griffith got much the worst of the encounter. His left eye was in horrible condition, and his face was much battered.”

Both men were booked for battery and, while the case never went to trial, it and the earlier incident do make one wonder if Grif’s Hyde — the creature resorting to violence when he felt it necessary — existed well before Tina was shot.

What if Grif’s mining wealth came from fabricating reports? Failed mines and angry investors were not uncommon in San Francisco back then. Speculators were ready and willing to pump up a mining prospect, collect money from investors, and then declare a bust. Grif certainly learned from that, and it’s quite possible he decided that was where his next opportunity awaited. That same year of the Schultz incident, 1878, Grif found a site in Eureka, Nevada, arranged investors, and on October 31 created the Wales Consolidated Gold and Silver Mining Company. The Alta California newspaper, for which Grif had become a mining reporter, announced that day that “our Grif” was moving to Eureka and wished him well. Grif and his investors listed Wales on the San Francisco stock market, even though it had yet to produce any riches, and eventually had it listed on the New York Stock Exchange, luring East Coast investors as well.

At first, all looked so promising. On August 17, 1879, the Eureka Sentinel reported that Wales’ main shareholders were so pleased with Grif that they’d given him a $250 gold watch and an “elegant double-seated carriage and team” of horses. “Please accept the whole as a humble token of our sincere regard for your ability and integrity,” their published letter stated – words likely intended to reassure other shareholders that all was well with Wales. But only five months later, on January 28, 1880, a San Francisco Chronicle headline of “Bubbling Fraud” topped a report that “another little scheme” was just “foisted upon the deluded folks who have the unconquerable penchant for stock dealing.” Wales, the Chronicle reported, was “raised from total obscurity” by letters and telegrams sent to potential investors by Grif himself. The first telegram read: “Uncovering rich ore. The grand boom has commenced. Will go up to fifty. Buy without limit.” The share price was just $3 at the time, and jumped to $30 before newspapers started questioning Grif’s enthusiasm. The Wales roller coaster continued for three more years, during which time mysterious fires destroyed equipment and rival newspapers took sides — the Daily Alta California and Eureka Leader defending Grif, while most others tracking the saga savaged Grif’s behavior.

Two decades later, when Grif was on trial and newspapers resurrected his time at Wales, the reporting was not flattering. The Eureka Sentinel, once a Grif cheerleader, recalled on September 12, 1903, that the last Wales fire brought “to a dramatic close one of the most sensational mining schemes of which Eureka has been the scene” and “relieved Griffith from a rather embarrassing position” by once again providing an excuse for not producing wealth. The Los Angeles Express republished the Sentinel story word for word, while the Los Angeles Herald, without providing a source, on September 6 claimed that Grif made $275,000 by selling his Wales share. “After Griffith sold out,” it reported, “his enemies claimed the Wales Consolidated was ‘salted’ and was sold, not on its merits, but on account of wild speculation … Certain it is, and of record, that the Wales Consolidated mine never paid a dividend or was worked.”

Isidore Dockweiler, the attorney for Tina who had revealed the Schultz assault, claimed Wales was a classic “boom” on an “absolutely worthless” property.^[4] In his defense, Grif described Wales in his autobiography as having been “a very promising speculative property for some time” but which ultimately proved worthless. What he left unsaid was that some investors, like himself, cashed out at the right time, while others were wiped out once it became clear Wales would never produce gold or silver.

What if Grif targeted Tina, falling in love not with her but her wealth? Tina inherited the Briswalter property in April 1885 and Grif’s courtship began in the spring of 1886, so he very well knew of her wealth. Tina’s brother Joseph certainly felt that Grif’s intentions from the very start were monetary. “This was the objective that the pretended millionaire was after, who coveted the valuable prize,” Mesmer wrote years later when planning to write a history of Los Angeles.^[5]  What also certainly was true was that Grif did not know that Joseph had convinced Tina to share the inheritance with her younger sister via a deed of gift. When Joseph found out that Tina had no intention of telling Grif, by then her fiancé, of the arrangement because “it was none of his business,” he urged her to do so “for their mutual happiness.” She finally did shortly before the wedding and Grif’s response, according to Joseph, was direct: “We will declare the marriage engagement off.” “That is all for the best,” Joseph told his sister, to which Tina reportedly replied, “I think so too.”

Obviously, that’s not where the story ended. Grif did write a letter to Tina on January 8, 1887, just three weeks before the wedding, asking that he be released “from any further engagement” and declaring that he was the one being targeted for his money. “I fear you are a tool in the hands and at the mercy of your father, and the object of a crafty imposition,” he wrote. “All is not as it has been represented to me… It is with sorrow that I reach the conclusion that you, with your father, are endeavoring to impose on me, knowing me to be a man of means.” But Joseph recalled that Grif also went to visit their mother, choosing a day when neither Joseph nor Mr. Mesmer was at home. Mrs. Mesmer heard from Grif that he really did want to marry Tina, Joseph wrote, but needed her “undivided love and confidence” and that was only possible by destroying the deed of gift. “When I saw the alarming condition that Mother had worked herself into,” Joseph added, “I said to Father, ‘Mother means more to us than all the property,’” and so the deed was destroyed.

The wedding back on, Grif further infuriated Joseph by preparing two property deeds, one where Tina deeded all her property to her younger brother, Tony, and the second where Tony deeded it all to Grif for $1. Joseph said he only learned about it when Grif bolted from the wedding breakfast to stop at the county recorder’s office before the newlyweds left on their honeymoon. The “cunning and designing manipulator” had prepared all this, Joseph reflected, so that he “could truthfully say he got no property from his wife.”

Had Grif put finances before love, or was he just doing what was smart to protect their interests as a family? Either way, he was determined to control their combined fortune and he never returned the property deed back to Tina.

What if Grif was not as altruistic as he claimed? In his autobiography, Grif wrote he was inspired by his 1882 trip through Europe and its grand parks to do something similar in Los Angeles. Even if true, the strength of that inspiration was tested several times, starting with the 1889 ad offering to sell all 4,000 acres of Rancho Los Feliz. Moreover, the 1896 donation initially was meant to be just 2,000 acres, as per Van’s recollection, but Mayor Snyder convinced Grif that adding 1,000 acres along the Los Angeles River was paramount to legally ensure the city’s water supply.^[6]

Then there’s the issue of property tax. Grif himself joked at the 1896 park donation ceremony that he was tired of paying taxes on the rancho. Was there some truth to the joke? In 1897, Grif’s private secretary, on trial for forging checks, claimed Grif only wanted to donate the land to lower his taxes and later profit by selling adjoining property. The secretary needed to portray an unseemly Grif in order to counter claims he had stolen from his employer, so his claim is suspect. But later allegations that Grif was tired of the taxes came from Joseph Mesmer, Tina’s brother but also a sworn enemy, and from a respected Angeleno whose father had been on the Parks Commission when the donation was made. For argument’s sake, let’s say tax relief did play some part in the donation, does that make Grif less of a philanthropist? The facts are that 3,015 acres were donated and the city’s water rights strengthened. So one could see it as a win-win for both Grif and the city. But it’s certainly also true that Grif’s altruism had its limits.

What if Grif’s business pressures triggered a dangerous survival mode? There’s no question Grif brought wealth with him to Los Angeles. He first listed himself in the city directories as Rancho Los Feliz  proprietor and then added capitalist once he started loaning money to locals like Louis Mesmer, Tina’s father. But his business tact and timing were often questionable — and every post-marriage setback was cushioned only by the wealth generated by Tina’s inheritance. Grif had no problem selling the Briswalter property given its prime location near downtown. But the southeast piece of Los Feliz that he had wanted to subdivide went on the market just as the 1887-88 Boom was fading and that land sat mostly unsold for the next decade.  By 1889 he was so frustrated he even tried to sell off the entire rancho but found no takers. The rancho brought more grief in 1891, when Grif nearly lost his life to his tenant over Los Feliz property rights, and in 1895 when the once promising ostrich farm folded.

And Grif’s 1900 rail investment in Hollywood would make sense in hindsight but those first years were uncertain given that the area was still considered far from downtown and didn’t incorporate into Los Angeles until 1910. Finally, Grif’s most ambitious project, the Pacific Art Tile Company, started off with great fanfare in 1900 but soon ran into logistical and financial trouble, and was sold off in 1904.

Throughout those nearly 20 years, Grif was propped up financially by the Briswalter proceeds. Survival meant controlling that fortune. At the same time, however, Tina was asking, and eventually demanding, those proceeds for herself.

What if alcohol created thoughts that survival meant killing Tina and framing it as an accident? Beyond the headlines that Grif believed the Catholic church was out to get him, there’s no doubt that he felt badgered by Tina’s periodic requests to separate her inheritance from Grif’s finances. And there’s no question that Grif took to drinking more and more in the late 1890s. At trial, he attributed it to the park donation and subsequent invitations to talk of his good deeds. Combine the booze and perceived badgering and it’s not far-fetched to imagine a Grif whose mental wheels were spinning — a man desperate to shut up his wife, especially if other stresses were piling on. Grif’s investment in the Pacific Art Tile Company was taking up more of his time and money, and coincided with the earlier alleged assaults. In fact, the first time Grif allegedly assaulted Tina was in the spring of 1900, just when he was launching Pacific Art Tile. The badgering over her inheritance is relentless, Grif might have thought, so how about confronting Tina once and for all? Stage a scuffle that includes a gun, and convince police it was just an accident as the Griffith family were packing to go home after a leisurely summer vacation? Sure, that could work, at least in Grif’s boozed and badgered mind.

The ‘What If’ About Tina. This last “what if” is not so much about Grif but Tina. Her financial determination is laudable, even pioneering in an age where women had few rights, but what if she had been pliant, not strong-willed? Would Grif and that Tina have lived the cherished American Dream? Grif’s autobiography suggests that he was indeed in love with Tina, or at least his vision of what she was. He recalls how friendship led to “my deep affection” for Tina. “My calls grew more frequent” in the summer of 1886 and the two “spent two or three evenings together each week exclusive of picnic parties on my ranch, at the beach and elsewhere.” In September 1886, “I proposed and was accepted,” he wrote. Even Grif’s breakup letter, before actually getting to the point, revealed his vision of a power couple doing good deeds:

“Our acquaintance dates back a trifle over a year, our engagement but for upwards of four months, and yet, how many pleasant events have transpired within that time!

“Your sweet presence alone, during the many evenings I have spent at your house, has been a constant delight and comfort, especially so since our engagement.

“Since we have entered upon our engagement, the wealth we represented has been measured and comparisons made by us, and we have found great pleasure in the contemplation that with our united means much good could be done.

“How our hearts would be filled to overflowing, as in imagination of the scene of the helpless orphans in our midst made glad by the munificence of some unknown benefactor.”

Certainly, Tina would have embraced that life of charity, especially given her own family’s history of helping others via the Catholic church. One would have expected to see a lifelong continuation of “the good fortune which has hitherto smiled upon their path”. But what outsiders did not know is that Tina would harbor, and rightly so, a fierce determination to control her inheritance.

One would think that if Grif really had loved Tina, he would have allowed her to control her inheritance. Or that, after the shooting, he would have apologized, expressed regret and/or acknowledged his alcoholism. He never did, at least not publicly. But neither was he ever again reported to have been on the infamous Martini tour route, nor did he ever again assault Tina verbally or physically, at least not before witnesses. He did urge Van, in a letter from San Quentin, to love his mother, although even then it came across not as an apology but as Tina being the weak link in the family. “Sympathize with your mother in her affliction; be kind to her,” Grif wrote. “As she grows older she will scold less and love you more, and in her declining years she will naturally learn to lean and depend upon you for her greatest earthly comfort.”

Publicly, the closest Grif came to a reflection upon his past was in his 1912 observatory donation letter. “I am sure that others who know under what trying circumstances I have struggled,” he wrote, “will be inspired by my ability to rise above my handicaps and environment.” A Grif apologist would say his talk of “handicaps” was his way of acknowledging his abusive, alcoholic past. A Grif cynic would say blaming his “environment” was a cop out when he should have taken full responsibility.

He once also urged others to heed Christ’s example and not to judge since humans cannot fathom why crimes happen in the first place. “Every sinner has a good as well as a bad side,” he said in his farewell to cellmates at the county jail before being sent to San Quentin.^[7] But “it is the privilege of no human being to judge another, because it is impossible for the human mind to understand the cause which actuated the person in committing the act with which he is charged.” Perhaps that was his way of saying that even he could not understand his own actions.

Grif wasn’t the only one who was silent about the shooting — neither Tina nor Van ever spoke publicly about it. Instead their actions over the years would show that, while they had detached themselves from the man, they still carried the Griffith name, they protected Griffith Park and they shared a passion for philanthropy.