The background: G.L. Norrman‘s string of public disputes continued in 1896, when the Fulton County Commission in Atlanta wanted to build a new county jail, engaging in an overlong and convoluted selection process that was chock full of corruption and cronyism.
Norrman’s history with the project began in 1892, when the commission asked him to draw plans for the renovation and expansion of the existing jail, dropping the idea within a matter of weeks.
The old jail, overcrowded and in severe disrepair, was still being used in April 1896, when the county commission requested plans for a new jail designed by Grant Wilkins, a local engineer who also billed himself as an architect. Wilkins was a favorite of the Atlanta political machine and a thoroughly incompetent designer.
Wilkins’ first plans for the jail were scrapped when the commission decided to change the location of the new facility, holding an open competition in May 1896 for “a model jail”, in which 5 local architects — Norrman was not one of them — submitted plans, with Wilkins acting as an “adviser”.
It appears that the open competition was simply for show, as the commission rejected each of the plans for being too expensive to build. The commission then suddenly decided that the jail could cost no more than $150,000, and handed the contract for the design back to Grant Wilkins.
In June 1896, Norrman informally presented his own plans to C.A. Collier, chairman of the Fulton County Commission, which he stated could be built for less than $150,000. Norrman had refused to submit plans in the competition because the commission had decided that Wilkins would act as supervising architect for the project regardless of the designer, and Norrman wanted to supervise the construction of the building himself.
In July 1896, Norrman and 4 other local architects — including his rivals GoLucke & Stewart — jointly submitted a formal protest against the commission for their selection of Wilkins. Norrman requested that the commission reopen the competition, but the motion was voted down.
In September 1896, Wilkins completed his plans for the “model jail”, with an estimated cost, incidentally, of nearly $170,000. The plans were available for public inspection, and Norrman obviously took advantage of the opportunity. The November 21, 1896 issue of The Atlanta Journal published the following letter from Norrman, in which he gave a thorough and scathing analysis of Wilkins’ design, repeatedly mocking the “model jail” (he used the phrase a total of 15 times).
Norrman’s remarks:
To the Editor ofThe Journal:
“I have just seen the drawings of “A Model Jail” and of all the curious structures that I have ever seen, “A Model Jail” is the most curious. When I first saw the name I thought it was a hoax gotten up by some charlatan to advertise himself, but when I heard that the chairman of the building committee of the proposed jail, the superintendent, a doctor, a lawyer, and a dentist, all of them honorable men, and good Christian gentlemen (in fact, we have none but Christian gentlemen in this country and in Europe, except some Jewish gentlemen, and in Turkey, where there are some Mohammedan gentlemen) had really started out to hunt “A Model Jail”.
I was sure that there must be something of that sort somewhere, only I had never heard of it, or else, that it was a practical joke, gotten up by some wag, who thought that it was too old a gag to take them out snipe-hunting, as they may have caught on to the joke, or he may have thought it too cruel a trick to get off on anybody, as in snipe-hunting the parties who do the hunting have to hold the bag, and in hunting “A Model Jail” the public have to hold it.
But sure enough they found “A Model Jail,” and on their return were prepared to tell any architect who wished to design “A Model Jail” all about it.
The description was somewhat obscure as to the appointments of “A Model Jail,” but what was particularly required in “A Model Jail,” besides the cells, is reception rooms, vestibules, reception hall, and all sorts of halls, and that is what we are really going to have. In fact, we are going to have more halls than anything else. Two-thirds of the building is nothing but halls. We are going to have front halls, and back halls, side halls, zig-zag halls, up-and-down halls, dark halls, light halls, ventilated halls, and unventilated halls, and a very large haul on the public exchequer.
As I said before, “A Model Jail” is a curious structure. Its appearance is somewhat in the style of a Mosque, with the crescents left off of the top of the minarets. It has some appointments that are necessary in a jail, some that are not unnecessary, and some necessary appointments it has not at all, but it has a perfect labyrinth of halls arranged somewhat on the plan of the Catacombs, but I think that when the attendants get accustomed to the building, they will find their way to each compartment without a guide.
I know that it is considered in bad taste for an architect to express himself about any building, and that it is rank heresy for anybody to doubt the competency of a building committee to judge not only of “A Model Jail,” but of a courthouse, or any other building for which they are appointed. One might as well doubt the competency of Sir Joseph to rule the Queen’s navy after scrubbing the front door knobs so successfully, as to doubt the competency of a building committee to judge of architecture, where each and every one has made a success of the cotton business, law business, reforming business, philanthropy business, or any other business. (This is an age of business.) So I do not for a moment mean to criticize the building committee: I simply think that the public may be interested in knowing that “A Model Jail” is one of the most unique buildings in this or any other country.
As there has been some talk to the effect that Mr. Wilkins, who was the expert at the recent competition for the new jail, had possibly gotten his idea from the architects who submitted plans, I would state that, in my opinion, he has not. I think that his plans for “A Model Jail” are entirely original, unless they were suggested by some one who was interested in giving the county the least room for the most money.
If the designs had been taken from an architect’s plans, the appointments of the hospital in the jail would have been entirely different. Baths and lavatories would have been provided for each ward, and appointments would have been made for nurses and a dispensary, rooms would have been provided for a matron and her help. There would very likely have been appointments made for persons who were detained without being strictly criminals.
If an architect had designed the building, the specifications would have been definite. As it is there are about fifty places in which the materials are to be approved by the superintendent without it being definitely stated what they are to be.
This, however, may be premeditated, as there are so many places in which expensive material is specified, which are handled only by persons who own the patents, and on which there could be no competition, but which could be easily substituted with an advantage to the building and a saving of about $50,000 (if the right man got the job), by substituting such material as is made by many firms.
It may be possible that the letting of the construction of the building will be carried on in the same spirit in which the architectural competition was carried on, and in that case the specification as it stands is a model document.
It may be remembered that the plans which were submitted by the architects in the so-called competition had four hundred cells, as was then required, and would have cost $150,000 to $300,000, while the proposed “Model Jail” has only one hundred and ninety cells all told, and the bids are likely to run from $200,000 to $300,000.
I doubt if any bids will come inside of $200,000 unless the building is unloaded from material on which there is a monopoly.
But even at this figure, there is considerable of a discrepancy between the cost of a jail designed by an architect and “A Model Jail” with all its hallways.
This, I think, will prove that any suggestion that Mr. Wilkins has taken his idea for “A Model Jail” from an architect is entirely without foundation.
G.L. NORRMAN