The following article, published in The Atlanta Constitution in 1890, includes an illustration and a brief description of the Kiser Law Building, completed in 1891 and designed by Bruce & Morgan.
Located at the northwest corner of Hunter and Pryor Streets (later Martin Luther King, Jr. Drive SE and Pryor Street SE) in Atlanta, the five-story office building was owned by M.C. Kiser (1830-18932), a local real estate developer.
When Kiser finally agreed to the project, the association formed a building committee that considered two designs for the structure: one by A.Mc.C. Nixon, and the winning plan by Bruce & Morgan.6 7
Although T.H. Morgan increasingly became the primary designer for Bruce & Morgan through the 1890s, A.C. Bruce still handled the majority of the firm’s output in the early part of the decade, and the Kiser Law Building appears to have been his design.
Bruce was a former cabinet maker and carpenter who lacked formal architectural training, and by 1890, the limits of his skill set were becoming readily apparent.
Many of Bruce’s designs from the early 1890s appear heavy-handed and anachronistic: you can see he was attempting to adapt to modern tastes, but his design sensibility was still fundamentally stuck in the 1870s — the Kiser Law Building was a prime example.
Looking at the illustration above, the building resembles a stack of drawers haphazardly piled on top of each other, and oversized windows of varying shapes and sizes junk up both facades.
That additive approach to design was typical of architects with a background in carpentry, who often designed buildings as if they were giant pieces of furniture, joining disparate elements and tacking on unnecessary embellishments instead of envisioning their compositions as solid masses to be sculpted into form.
The building’s overall style is equally baffling: Bruce was presumably aiming for the Romanesque, but for all the eclectic adornments, including terra cotta trim,8 9a decorative slate roof with iron crestings, ornamental iron balconies, and marble columns,10 he didn’t quite achieve a cohesive style. The pyramidal peaks and elaborate gables were also becoming rapidly outdated by 1891.
As construction began, it was reported that the Kiser Law Building would be constructed of either Berea sandstone or marble.12 It’s Atlanta, so it appears they opted for the cheaper sandstone for most of the structure and incorporated marble trim around the entrance.13
Set over a full basement, the building’s five floors included a 16-foot-wide central hall, served by one elevator, four stairwells, and two fire escapes. A light court was also designed to extend from the top to the bottom floor, so that each of the building’s 84 offices would be lighted and ventilated from the outside.14
The building was illuminated with electric lighting and included “water closets of the latest patterns…located in the rear [heh] of every floor.15
While it was originally reported that the building would be heated by steam,16 17 Kiser ultimately chose the Bolton Hot Water System, which was marketed as a “purely scientific, healthful way of heating.”18
I don’t really care enough about such things to learn more; however, the man who supervised the heating system’s installation told the Constitution: “…the larger buildings in the north have been heated by hot water apparatuses for the last ten or twelve years, yet it is practically new for the south…”19
No surprise, really: Atlanta’s self-conscious developers are always late to the game, simply replicating what was done a decade ago in the better cities of the North.
The floors of the Kiser Law Building were planned as follows:
Construction on the building began on April 8, 1890,28 with J.H. Matthews,29 “a wide-awake contractor”,30 supervising the project. The initial estimated cost of the building was $90,000, with a projected completion date of April 1, 1891.31 The cost rose to $100,000 by 1891,32 and the building was completed in August 1891.33 34
Local interest in the project was high, and while construction was still underway in November 1890, Kiser had reportedly received applications from 100 lawyers seeking office space.35
Firms began announcing their intention to move to the building in early 1891,36 and in June 1891, George W. Adair, who handled leasing for the property, reported: “The Kiser law building is nearly ready for occupancy, which is good news to those who have already selected their rooms, and others that are waiting for its completion.”37
Their lease agreements should have included the following caveat: the only thing slimier than a lawyer is an Atlanta developer.
In July 1891, Kiser leased nearly the entire law building — including the top four floors, the corner store on the ground floor, and the full basement38 39 — to a single firm: the Richmond Terminal Company, which had abruptly decided to relocate its headquarters from Washington, D.C. to Atlanta.40
The company stated its intention to use the Kiser Building as temporary office space until it could build its own facility in the city,41 signing a two-year lease for the then-unheard-of sum (in Atlanta anyway) of $14,500 a year.42 43
Commonly referred to as the “Terminal”, the company had previously purchased the Central Railroad and Banking Company, Georgia’s oldest railroad,44 based in Savannah. The Terminal’s new Atlanta headquarters consolidated the employees from both Savannah and Washington in a single location.
However, the Kiser Building was much too small to house the Terminal’s 250 to 300 workers,45 46 and one executive stated, “Unfortunately that building is not large enough to fully accommodate all the offices, but we will try to make do.” Kiser said of the negotiation: “…the trouble was they wanted more room, but finally concluded they could get along by adding the corner room and the basement.”47
The Terminal’s hasty relocation to Atlanta was more than a little suspicious, and there were allegations that it wasn’t “bona fide”, which the company denied.48 Atlanta’s newspapers, of course, hailed the move, with the always-bloviating Constitution prognosticating:
“A grand new depot and office building. That is the inevitable result.
The bringing of these offices to Atlanta is a bigger thing than might appear at first glance. This naturally makes Atlanta the center of the railroad situation of the south, and, as Atlanta is now the insurance center, it becomes beyond question the financial center of the south.”49
The lawyers who already selected offices in the Kiser Building just had to suck it, I guess. The Odd Fellows probably weren’t too thrilled either: the Constitution reported in July 1891 that “about ten days ago they selected the fifth floor of the Kiser building and immediately rented it as an Odd Fellows’ hall. Then the Terminal people came along and wished the place.”50
Anyone who knows how shit goes down in Atlanta could guess what happened next: Just six months after the Terminal employees began working in the Kiser building, the Central Railroad was forced into receivership by a local judge.51 52
Rumors of the Terminal’s financial difficulties and potential bankruptcy had swirled around Atlanta for months, spurred by the resignations of top executives and directors who had reportedly been battling for control of the company.53 54
There was also the time in January 1892, when the company apparently lacked the funds to pay its employees, delaying their paychecks for more than a week,55 56 57 58 a situation charitably described as “embarrassing.”59
The final blow was delivered in a lawsuit filed by a stockholder against the company, alleging that, among other things, the Terminal’s owners were conspiring to transfer $500,000,000 in debt onto the Central Railroad, “which it [could] never pay,”60 61 presumably with the intent to bankrupt it. Sounds like business as usual for an American enterprise.
Under the rules of the receivership, the Central Railroad’s 74 employees62 returned to Savannah,63 64 and while it initially appeared that the remaining Terminal employees would stay in Atlanta, they were ordered back to Washington in June 1892, leaving the Kiser Building nearly vacant.65 66The company hired George W. Adair to sublet the building,67 which was filled with lawyers as originally planned.68
Office structures tend to fall out of fashion quickly, and in 1930, the Journal said of the Kiser Law Building: “…the lawyers, loan brokers, and trade representatives [have] shifted to more modernly equipped buildings…”, noting that, “storms of nearly half a century have raised havoc with the structure and its artistic domes, its oriel windows, and its ornamental trimmings.”69
By 1936, the Kiser Law Building was reportedly “almost empty except for a store or two on the sidewalk.”70 No one seemed too upset when the structure was demolished in November and December 1936 for — take a wild guess — a parking lot.71 72 73
Major M.C. Kiser’s “Law Building” will be one of the handsomest buildings in the south, and when finished will be one of Atlanta’s greatest attractions.
The Constitution gives here an excellent cut of the building, made from the drawings of Bruce & Morgan, the architects. The uses to which the building are to be put have been fully explained in these columns.
The building will be erected at the corner of Pryor and Hunter streets, fronting on Pryor, and will be five stories in height. It will be devoted to offices for lawyers, with clubrooms for a Lawyers’ club. It will be just as complete as possible, an ideal building in every respect.74
The Public Comfort Building in Oakland Cemetery is the only surviving work in Atlanta known to have been designed by C. Walter Smith (1865-1910), an architect who worked for at least seven years as a draughtsman and assistant for G.L. Norrman before embarking on a fairly unremarkable solo career.
Built on a small hill in the western portion of the 48-acre cemetery, this 2-story structure includes a full basement and totals 2,800 square feet.1 The exterior is faced in stucco-covered brick2 and rusticated granite trim, and marble flooring3 is used on the front porch and in the basement.
Modeled after “the old Norman and English castellated churches,”4 the building’s design can be broadly defined as Romanesque, and its focal point is a 50-foot-high crenelated bell tower,5 heavily inspired by similar designs from G.L. Norrman.
Today, Oakland Cemetery refers to the entire structure as the “Bell Tower”.
An illustration from 1899 (pictured above) reveals the building’s original design: a one-story porch topped by battlements originally flanked the south facade, and a porte-cochère to accommodate wagons was attached to the east side.
Curiously, the final design was reversed, with the porte-cochère moved to the west side of the structure, likely one of “a few slight changes” announced before construction began.7
Roman arches on the porch and bell tower, and Gothic-style arched windows on the second floor completed the appearance of a small, storybook castle—again, Smith borrowed significantly from Norrman for the aesthetic.
In its original conception, the building was one of Smith’s better designs. Despite years of training under “the South’s most prominent architect”8—his words—Smith’s skill never came close to Norman’s high level of artistry, although his work here was at least intriguing.
Unfortunately, the initial vision was compromised by the later addition of second-floor porches over the front porch and porte-cochère, topped with flat roofs and punctuated by incongruent half-round openings.
I suspect the porches were added circa 1908, when the cemetery spent $5,000 on a range of improvements9 following its first annual report to the city, which requested $1,000 for “needed changes and repairs in the main building.”10
The effect of the alterations is detrimental: the upper porches add unnecessary visual mass to the structure and pull focus away from the bell tower, robbing the entire composition of the uplifting, monumental effect Smith originally intended.
“Public comfort” was a polite 19th-century euphemism for restrooms, which were originally housed on the ground floor of the structure.
When the building was completed in October 1899, The Atlanta Journal delicately noted: “Here one now finds a convenience and comfort that was lacking for many years.”11 I guess early visitors just had to hold it—or maybe piss on a grave.
There were initially six rooms in the building, including a ladies’ parlor and an “apartment for gentlemen.” All six rooms had tiled mantels,12 which was apparently noteworthy. Two of the mantels remain intact.
The structure also included an office for the cemetery’s sexton,13 and Oakland Cemetery’s website claims the building contained a chapel, with the second floor used as the sexton’s residence. So many uses for such a small structure.
Despite its fanciful design, the building was, at heart, purely utilitarian, “suitable for the purposes for which it is intended,”14 as the Journal put it.
People need to pee, of course, but the building’s other raison d’être was concealed in the basement.15 The structure was built on the site of a converted 2-story farmhouse16 known as the “dead house”17 —you can see where this is going.
As the Journal explained:
“There is a vault with eight catacombs and sixteen racks. This is as strong and substantial as could be made. For the retention of bodies for any length of time the catacombs will answer every purpose, as they are built to be air-tight for years to come. The racks, as a matter of course, are intended as a temporary place of keeping and are conveniently arranged. When the iron gate to the vault is locked entrance is practically impossible.”18
Since Oakland is a public cemetery operated by the city of Atlanta, the building was funded through a city council appropriation.19 The Atlanta Building Company secured the contract with the lowest bid, and the project’s total cost was $4,600,20 with $650 spent on the stone.21
Construction on the building was initially slated to begin on April 27, 1899,22 but was apparently delayed until June and completed in four months.23
Although early plans called for the construction of one or two additional public comfort buildings in the cemetery,24 those never materialized, and this structure remained the only significant public building at the site, altered many times over by piecemeal repairs and additions.
When the Historic Oakland Foundation was formed in 1976 to preserve and maintain the cemetery’s historic integrity, the building became office space for the organization, with the ground floor converted into a small visitors center,25 a function that it served for decades.
In 2022, as Oakland Cemetery prepared to build a much larger visitors’ center outside its main entrance, the former Public Comfort Building received a gut renovation designed by Smith Dalia Architects, Atlanta’s finest firm for the adaptive reuse of historic structures.
The project included tearing out the hodgepodge of rooms on each floor for larger, open spaces, removing god-awful windows added to the second-floor porches, and making necessary accessibility alterations, which altered a portion of the front porch.26 27
The building reopened later that year28 as an event space: the fallback choice when owners don’t know what to do with a historic structure.
Following its renovation, the building now appears a little too clean and gleaming—I actually preferred it when it was worn and shabby—but it still has an undeniable anachronistic charm that’s uncommon in Atlanta.
And as one of just six known extant works by Walter Smith, it’s also a matter of curiosity, if nothing else.
