Barkers in Blue Serge

To the Los Angeles Chamber of Commerce, the Twin City Pigeon Eliminating Co. of St. Paul wrote: "Our representative will be in Los Angeles for the purpose of contracting with building owners to eliminate and control common scrub pigeons. We would like to have you provide us with a list of the names and addresses of buildings affected by these birds."

The Chamber promptly sent one of its men scurrying to compile a list. Such attention to the smallest business, plus a special brand of California civic spirit, has made the Los Angeles Chamber of Commerce one of the most successful forces of its kind in the world. Last week, it totted up its achievements for the past year. It had 1) helped get freight-rate reductions on steel from Geneva, Utah; 2) promoted a $1 billion state highway program with special benefits for Los Angeles; and 3) persuaded 200 new enterprises, with about 7,800 new jobs, to settle in the city. (The cost to the Chamber was only $2.75 a job.) It is largely because of its yeasty Chamber of Commerce that Los Angeles can claim to be the third largest--and still fastest growing--city in the U.S.

Walnut Elephants. Most of the growth was promoted without the gaudy hoopla that outsiders associate with Los Angeles. Southern California has its ace barkers, but the businessmen of the Los Angeles Chamber of Commerce favor blue serge suits more than checked vests.

The checked vest legend in Los Angeles is traceable to a promoter named Frank Wiggins, who started the promotion of the city in 1893 with a life-sized elephant made of California walnuts. The elephant made such a hit at the World's Fair in Chicago that Wiggins, as superintendent of exhibits for the budding Chamber, made another one to send around the country.

Under the Wiggins leadership, the Chamber set off a massive publicity campaign to lure settlers. Items: pamphlets entitled "Land of Heart's Desire," barnstorming trains full of oversized California vegetables, claims that "mad dogs and sunstroke are never known here." Under Wiggins, the Chamber spearheaded the development of the city's $220,000,000 aqueduct and its $59,000,000 artificial harbor. His uninhibited supersalesmanship put the Los Angeles Chamber on the map.

Walnut Panels. After his death in 1924, the Chamber dropped much of the old flamboyance. In the oak-mahogany-walnut-paneled offices in the Chamber's own nine-story building, there is a full-time staff of 150 go-getters headed by able, 44-year-old General Manager Harold Wright. The staff is actively supported by some 13,400 members who serve on the Chamber's scores of committees, a board of 49 directors which meets once a week, a president who customarily spends about half his time on Chamber work.

The Chamber goes about its main job of luring in new businesses by 1) buttonholing virtually every bigwig who comes to town, and 2) never letting a prospect off the hook. For example, Chamber representatives first approached a Pennsylvania radiator company in 1933 with studies showing how it could make money in Los Angeles. Every year thereafter they came around to elaborate on their inducements. By 1946, some of the company's officers could no longer resist a trip west to look over possible sites. When they found a likely one, the Chamber arranged for them to buy it. Upshot: last month ground was broken for an $8,000,000 radiator manufacturing plant that will employ 1,500 people.

Hats Outside. The group interests of Los Angeles' promoters often conflict with their private interests. Last year the Chamber campaigned for more highways, to be financed by a boost in the gasoline tax. Oilmen who are members of the Chamber not only opposed the idea, they spent thousands to fight it. Chamber President Clarence Beesemyer is an oilman himself (vice president of General Petroleum Corp., a subsidiary of Socony-Vacuum Oil Co., Inc.). But he helped the Chamber fight the program through the state legislature.

New President B. 0. Miller, a grey-haired, soft-spoken man who took office a fortnight ago, is carrying on the tradition that members hang their private hats outside. When it looked as though he would be elected president, he reorganized his real-estate business (W. I. Hollingsworth & Co.) and moved himself up from president to chairman so that he could have more time for the Chamber.

What sparks the Chamber's fervor? Said Morris Pendleton, president of Los Angeles' Plomb Tool Co.: "We know that Los Angeles is a big city but not yet a great city. We get a hell of a kick out of trying to make it great."

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