Category: G.L. Norrman

The Background

The following article, published in The Atlanta Journal in 1898, includes illustrations and floor plans of the E.C. Merry House, built in 1893 and designed by G.L. Norrman.

Located at 144 Lee Street (later 510 Lee Street SW), the 5-year-old home in Atlanta’s West End neighborhood was owned by Ovid Stewart at the time the article was written.

In 1890, the home’s original owner, E.C. Merry, became the principal of the West End Academy,¹ located one block away. Humphries & Norrman designed the school’s original structure in 1883, but for whatever reason, Bruce & Morgan were selected to design its expansion in 1890.²

Norrman was primarily an architect of large residences, and it appears he gave up smaller projects entirely by the late 1890s, so it’s a genuine treat to have an illustration and floor plan for this charming 8-room cottage.

There are a few interesting aspects here:

• The plan is described as “simplicity itself”, and that’s no exaggeration: No bathroom was included, and it’s unclear if the home was even wired for electricity — with a total cost of $1,770, it probably wasn’t.
• The Journal’s description describes the home’s “quaint, homelike Quaker suit”, and it appears the home was at least partially inspired by the vernacular architecture of colonial New England, much like Norrman’s design for the C.D. Hurt Residence the same year. I prefer this interpretation.
• Norrman packed in several signature touches here: tapered chimneys, an eyebrow dormer on the front, Tuscan columns on the porch, and a balustrade and finials on the roof.

The home still belonged to Ovid Stewart when it was “badly burned” by a fire in February 1909,^{3 4} although it was swiftly repaired.^{5 6} Within a year, the property was occupied by Mrs. Stewart’s brother and sister-in-law, L.B. Langford and E.E. Langford,⁷ who spent $1,350 in additions⁸ — nearly as much as the home originally cost.

The Stewarts divorced in 1912,⁹ and after the death of Mrs. Langford in April 1914,^{10 11} followed by her husband in September 1916,^{12 13} the home became a rental property.¹⁴

Based on city directories, the structure survived another 42 years, meeting the same fate as thousands of other historic properties in Atlanta when the home was apparently demolished circa 1958 for the construction of the East-West Expressway (now I-20).¹⁵

Today, the site is occupied by the eastbound ramp from Lee Street. Progress!

Journal’s Model Houses; Home of Mr. Ovid Stewart

The accompanying cuts give the perspective and floor plan of Mr. Ovid Stewart’s pretty cottage on Lee street at the corner of Oak, in West End. It was built by Mr. E.C. Merry in 1893 from the plan of Mr. G.L. Norrman at a cost of $1,770, but could be duplicated now for about $1,400. It is a fine example of the grace and beauty to be found in a simple design when the skill of the architect is bestowed upon it. The plan is simplicity itself, and in a form to be the least expensive in proportion to results attained.

The floor plan shows the arrangement. This can be varied slightly without material difference in the cost, but care will have to be taken in changing it, for one of the chief beauties in the plan is in the adjustment of proportionate dimensions.

The construction is thorough and the cottage is exceedingly comfortable. It rests on a solid wall and has double walls and floors. It is painted gray, with white trimmings, which gives it a quaint, homelike Quaker suit.¹⁶

References

1. “To Teach In West End.” The Atlanta Constitution, August 9, 1890, p. 8. ↩︎
2. “The New Academy Building.” The Atlanta Constitution, November 2, 1890, p. 24. ↩︎
3. “Twelve Fires Within A Day”. The Atlanta Constitution, February 2, 1909, p. 5. ↩︎
4. “Nine Fire Calls Answered Monday”. The Atlanta Semi-Weekly Journal, February 2, 1909, p. 1. ↩︎
5. “Personal Mention”. The Atlanta Journal, February 14, 1909, p. H5. ↩︎
6. “Building Permits”. The Atlanta Journal, February 19, 1909, p. 14. ↩︎
7. “Mortuary”. The Atlanta Constitution, August 15, 1910, p. 5. ↩︎
8. “Building Permits”. The Atlanta Journal, September 15, 1910, p. 13. ↩︎
9. “Notice Notice Notice”. The Atlanta Constitution, February 9, 1912, p. 13. ↩︎
10. “Deaths and Funerals”. The Atlanta Journal, April 17, 1914, p. 2. ↩︎
11. “Mortuary”. The Atlanta Constitution, April 18, 1914, p. 2. ↩︎
12. “Deaths and Funerals”. The Atlanta Constitution, September 1, 1916, p. 2. ↩︎
13. “Mortuary”. The Atlanta Constitution, September 2, 1916, p. 2. ↩︎
14. “For Rent–Houses”. The Atlanta Journal, November 20, 1916, p. 17. ↩︎
15. “Here’s Route Of New East-West Expressway”. The Atlanta Journal and Constitution, March 23, 1958, p. 1-E. ↩︎
16. “Journal Model House; Home of Mr. Ovid Stewart” The Atlanta Journal, February 5, 1898, p. 9. ↩︎

Americans are a bored and petulant lot of children who insist on living in an apocalyptic fever dream, always conjuring up some new monster to lash out at in dramatic spectacle, lest — God forbid — we attend to the darkness of our own souls.

Desperate to make a dollar, the news industry has long been willing to capitalize on our collective catastrophizing, constantly looking for the next shiny object to spin into a lightning rod for controversy. It’s not always successful, though.

Such was the case in Charlotte, North Carolina, in 1892 and 1893, when the local press sought to stir the public’s ire over a weather vane atop the new city hall, designed by G.L. Norrman.

When construction on the building topped out in October 1892, it was festooned with a large tin weather vane shaped like a slithering mythical dragon.^{2 3}

The Charlotte Observer was scathing in its assessment of the dragon, opining that “it may be classic, but not even its maker can say it’s pretty.”⁴ The paper added:

Yesterday afternoon after the monstrosity was placed, the universal query was “Why did they put such a looking thing up there?” The only answer that could be gotten was, “because the architect said so.” The mayor, nor any of the aldermen will own it; each declares he didn’t select it. But there’s no use in disapproving, the dragon has come to stay; may be it will improve on acquaintance.⁵

The dragon was designed by John Osborne, a Charlotte tinsmith, and Norrman reportedly pronounced it as “a work of genius”, claiming Osborne could get a position with him in Atlanta whenever he wanted. “It is hoped that this invitation includes the dragon,” the Observer cattily quipped.⁶

Norrman’s selection of the dragon no doubt stemmed from his fascination with Norse mythology, but he also had a history of adding mirthful creatures to his buildings. On the City Hall and Opera House in Newberry, South Carolina, for example, he topped the central tower with a weather vane in the shape of a garfish.

“Why this primordial and repulsive fish was chosen is not known”, a local historian later huffed — a touch overdramatic, I’d say.⁷ It’s also not known why local historians are so pompous and humorless, but that’s a discussion for another time.

A week after the dragon was placed on Charlotte’s city hall, a “Constant Reader” of the Observer anonymously wrote the following letter:

Can you kindly enlighten the public as to what the fiery dragon on top of the new city hall steeple is emblematic of? About the only reference the writer can find in regard to the dragon is found in the 20th chapter of Revelation and judging from what we read there it is not at all complimentary to the good people of Charlotte to be guarded over by a beast of that description. Why wouldn’t an American eagle or a hornets’ nest, for instance, be good enough for the Queen City?⁸

The newspaper responded: “The Observer‘s only answer to “Constant Reader’s” first interrogatory is that the design on top of the steeple is emblematic only of the way the work on the hall has drag(ged) on. Bang!”

It was a fair point: construction on Charlotte’s city hall began in December 1890⁹ and was supposed to end in December 1891.¹⁰ However, the project was plagued by delays and was finally completed in April 1893.¹¹

The Observer‘s campaign against the dragon was on a roll, and when Norrman visited Charlotte in November 1892 to check on the building’s progress, the newspaper couldn’t help but be disparaging:

Mr. Normann [sic], architect of the city hall, is here. He met with a cordial reception from the dragon–for he is its only friend. Mr. Normann says he is willing to take the dragon down if the people would prefer something else; but perhaps the dragon is a good safety valve; everyone can cuss it as much as he pleases, without fear of retaliation, and it is best for it to remain on high.¹²

Norrman’s offer to remove the dragon was unusually deferential and seemed to diffuse the newspaper’s criticism, as it didn’t make another peep about the matter for weeks.

In December 1892, the Observer had apparently warmed to the dragon’s appearance, reporting: “The city hall tower shows up well from any direction around about the city–even the dragon looks handsome.”¹³

By March 1893, the Observer was clearly resigned to the dragon’s existence. In an article championing the work of the city’s mayor, R.J. Brevard, the writer proclaimed: ‘We can stand upon our city hall, beneath “that dragon” without fear, but pride, for we can say the hall and ‘dragon” are paid for…’¹⁴

In December 1893, the dragon was threatened by a zealous objector, although The Observer had nothing to say about the matter. Instead, The Charlotte News reported on the following incident from the annual conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church South that had just concluded in the city:

“…one large portly member sprung to the aisle and said: “It is time something were done. Even here in the city of Charlotte, the dragon, the image of the old devil himself sweeps around ‘with every wind that blows,’ from the top of the city hall. The country is on a gallop to the devil and let’s head it off.“¹⁵

The newspaper added: “It cannot be denied–the brother is right. The devil overlooks Charlotte.“¹⁶ Sensationalist much?

It seems nothing came of the impassioned threat, and the dragon remained on the city hall until the building was demolished in 1926 — the only Southern city that has destroyed its historic fabric more than Atlanta is Charlotte.

The exact date of the dragon’s demise was February 2, 1926, with The Charlotte News documenting its final dramatic moments:

The giant dragon, which once proudly flaunted its head to every whim of the weather, was a mass of twisted metal and steel at the foot of the tower. Piles of brick and stone were falling upon it in utter disregard of its former proud station high above the street.¹⁷

And thus ended the saga of Charlotte’s dastardly dragon, buried in a heap of rubble after 33 years.

References

1. “The Dragon in Conference.” The Charlotte News (Charlotte, North Carolina), December 5, 1893, p. 1. ↩︎
2. “Local Briefs.” The Charlotte Observer (Charlotte, North Carolina), October 5, 1892, p. 4. ↩︎
3. “The Dragon–It May Be Classic, But Is Not Pretty.” The Charlotte Observer (Charlotte, North Carolina), October 7, 1892, p. 4. ↩︎
4. ibid. ↩︎
5. ibid. ↩︎
6. ibid. ↩︎
7. “No restoration in foreseeable future for opera house”. The Index-Journal (Greenwood, South Carolina), February 10, 1983, p. 8. ↩︎
8. “The Observer Has Solved the Riddle.” The Charlotte Observer (Charlotte, North Carolina), October 15, 1892, p. 1. ↩︎
9. “Local Ripples.” The Charlotte News (Charlotte, North Carolina), December 4, 1890, p. 1. ↩︎
10. “Our New City Hall.” Charlotte Chronicle (Charlotte, North Carolina), November 29, 1890, p. 4. ↩︎
11. The Charlotte Observer (Charlotte, North Carolina), April 8, 1893, p. 4. ↩︎
12. “A Pretty Little Theatre Could Be Made in the City Hall.” The Charlotte Observer (Charlotte, North Carolina), November 1, 1892, p. 4. ↩︎
13. “Local Briefs.” The Charlotte Observer (Charlotte, North Carolina), December 2, 1892, p. 4. ↩︎
14. “The Coming Municipal Election.” The Charlotte Observer (Charlotte, North Carolina), March 25, 1893, p. 4. ↩︎
15. “The Dragon in Conference.” The Charlotte News (Charlotte, North Carolina), December 5, 1893, p. 1. ↩︎
16. ibid. ↩︎
17. “Falling Bricks at Old City Hall Menace Traffic”. The Charlotte News (Charlotte, North Carolina), February 2, 1926, p. 14. ↩︎

The following item was published in The Atlanta Journal on April 25, 1909. G.L. Norrman died 7 months later.

The Old World

G.L. Norrman, the architect, says that in Europe one asks who designed a house, not who owns it; but here it is, who owns it, not who designed it. In the sleepy old countries of the old world the interest has the artistic and not the money tendency.⁴

References

1. “A Great Building Era Now On In The City”. The Spartanburg Herald (Spartanburg, South Carolina), May 28, 1909, p. 1. ↩︎
2. “Converse To Show Fruits Of Recent Funds Campaign”. Spartanburg Herald-Journal, October 6, 1957, p. A4. ↩︎
3. Conley, Linda. “Restoring the shine to an old jewel”. Herald-Journal (Spartanburg, South Carolina), October 17, 2008, p. D1. ↩︎
4. “The Old World”. The Atlanta Journal, April 25, 1909, p. 2. ↩︎

The Background

As if he hadn’t already gushed enough over G.L. Norrman, in a December 1902 article for The Augusta Chronicle, Wallace Putnam Reed — under the pen name Major Junius — pontificated on why he considered Norrman “the ideal of the best type of southern gentleman”.

These were Reed’s final published remarks about Norrman — he died less than 5 months later, in April 1903.⁵

Article Excerpt:

In Mr. G.L. Norrman, the well-known Atlanta architect, I have found my ideal of the best type of the southern gentleman of the old school. To me this is somewhat remarkable because Mr. Norrman is a foreigner by birth—a member of one of the noble families of Sweden.

He is a sort of “Admirable Crichton,” the master of many arts and accomplishments, a scholar, philosopher, man of society and a recognized leader in his profession.

Sam Small once said that a man could not ride a few hours side by side with Norrman in a car without getting enough ideas from him to fill a bright, strong, original book.

He is an instructive, fascinating talker, and a polished, epigrammatic writer whose contributions are always welcomed by the press. His views of character, conduct and life are those which made our ante-bellum southern gentlemen recognized the world over as the most honorable and chivalric of men. Some of his ideas were so strikingly expressed some time ago in his lecture on “Architecture As Illustrative of Religious Belief, and as a Means of Tracing Civilization,” that I hope he will be induced to deliver it again, in Atlanta and in other cities. It is just the kind of lecture to interest broad-minded, cultured fearless thinkers.⁶

References

1. “Plans Made for Bisbee Building”. The Florida Times-Union and Citizen (Jacksonville, Florida), September 17, 1901, p. 6. ↩︎
2. “Filling in the Blank Spaces”. The Florida Times-Union and Citizen (Jacksonville, Florida), February 24, 1902, p. 5. ↩︎
3. “Dr. Armstrong Back.” The Sunday Times-Union and Citizen (Jacksonville, Florida), May 25, 1902, p. 5. ↩︎
4. “H.C. Seaman.” The Sunday Times-Union and Citizen (Jacksonville, Florida), June 1, 1902, p. 5. ↩︎
5. “Wallace P. Reed Yields to Death”. The Atlanta Constitution, April 18, 1903, p. 1. ↩︎
6. Junius, Major. “Pen Pictures of Well-Known Atlanta Men”. The Augusta Chronicle (Augusta, Georgia), November 23, 1902, p. 11. ↩︎

The Background

Four days after his gushing comments about G.L. Norrman for the Macon press, Wallace Putnam Reed contributed the following report to The Augusta Chronicle about Norrman’s sudden late-career resurgence.

Article Excerpt:

My Augusta readers are lovers of the fine arts, and they will be glad to learn that one of their friends, Mr. G.L. Norrman, the famous Atlanta architect, is winning new honors.

When Norrman planned the splendid Hotel Bienville for Mobile he said nothing about it here. But he could not hide his light under a bushel. The Constitution‘s pictures of his designs for the new dormitory and mess hall at Athens have attracted attention everywhere, and without expecting it this modest man of genius is now overwhelmed with visitors and orders.

The matter interests me, because I have long been convinced that the man who can design and construct a great work in the architectural line is really a greater man than a poet or historian. The arts are different, but the first endures longer than the two others. In recent years we have seen the growth of public interest down south in schools of technology, and this is on the line of my remarks.

To put it more plainly, we of the south are outgrowing the old idea of a plantation aristocracy, whose younger sons must be professional men or nothing. Our young men of the future will be those who can compete with the Carnegies. Like that great Scotchman, they will start at the bottom and work their way up. When they succeed they will have all the social and political prominence they desire.¹

References

1. Reed, Wallace Putnam. “Random Gossip”. The Augusta Chronicle, May 7, 1901, p. 4. ↩︎

The Background

Following a similar article in The Savannah Press, in May 1901, Wallace Putnam Reed wrote the following sketch of G.L. Norrman for his “Random Atlanta Gossip” column in The Macon Telegraph.

Reed recounted remarks attributed to a man from Birmingham, Alabama, about Norrman’s recent work, including the Bienville Hotel in Mobile, Alabama, and Candler Hall at the University of Georgia in Athens (pictured above).

One interesting aspect of the conversation is the speaker’s claim that “we are trying to induce Norrman to move to Birmingham”. Norrman considered moving to Birmingham, Alabama, in 1899,^{2 3 4} but ultimately remained in Atlanta.

Article Excerpt:

A Birmingham man who is a graduate of the University of Georgia called my attention, this morning, to the new dormitory, and mess hall of that institution, designed by Mr. G.L. Norrman, an Atlanta architect, who is somewhat famous throughout the South.

“These will be the handsomest buildings on the campus,” said the visitor from Birmingham, as he pointed to their pictures on the first page of the Constitution. “I don’t know anything of the kind in Europe or America, at the same cost, which is equal to these structures, measured by the standards of beauty and utility. By the way, we are trying to induce Norrman to move to Birmingham. The new Hotel Bienville in Mobile is his work, you know, and it has made him the most popular man in Atlanta. There is something in fine architecture that appeals to the heads and hearts of all classes. I would rather be a great architect than almost anything else.”

In the meantime Mr. Norrman who was standing within hearing walked off without waiting to be introduced to his admirer. Like most men of the genuine artistic temperament, he gets his satisfaction out of the work and cares less for compliments than any man I know.

If he cares for distinction he can easily make himself recognized as one of the foremost architects of this country. The late John Wellborn Root of Atlanta, enjoyed that distinction, but in some lines Mr. Norrman is regarded as his superior.⁵

References

1. The Twenty-Ninth Annual Report from the Department of Education to the General Assembly of the State of Georgia. Atlanta: The Franklin Printing and Publishing Company, 1901 ↩︎
2. “In Hotel Lobbies and Elsewhere”. The Age-Herald (Birmingham, Alabama), October 28, 1899, p. 4. ↩︎
3. “In Hotel Lobbies and Elsewhere”. The Age-Herald (Birmingham, Alabama), December 16, 1899, p. 4. ↩︎
4. Morgan, Thos. H. “Letter to Glenn Brown”. 1 January 1900. ↩︎
5. Reed, Wallace Putnam. “Random Atlanta Gossip”. The Macon Telegraph (Macon, Georgia), May 3, 1901, p. 4. ↩︎

The Background

In April and May 1901, Wallace Putnam Reed wrote at least 3 similar articles about G.L. Norrman that were published in different newspapers throughout the Southeast. The first article is included below, written by Reed for his weekly column in The Savannah Press.

Here, Reed identified Norrman as “A Swedish gentleman of aristocratic ancestry”, but that appears to be inaccurate. All evidence indicates he came from an ordinary middle-class family, and if Norrman falsely claimed himself as a descendant of Swedish nobility, it was entirely unnecessary — he was remarkable enough on his own merits.

Article Excerpt:

Mr. G.L. Norrman, the well known Atlanta architect, has a legion of friends in Savannah who will be delighted with his splendid designs for the State University dormitory and mess hall, which were the most notable illustrations in The Constitution the other day.

Mr. Norrman is in love with his profession. He is an original thinker, a scholar, and a traveler who has studied on their sites the best examples of the world’s ancient and modern architecture. When I do not find it convenient to spend a leisure hour in a big library I hunt up Norrman. He is a favorite with our brightest men, and the south is dotted with churches, public buildings, and residences which bear testimony to his skill and artistic taste.

This man is worth a column here if we had the time and space. A Swedish gentleman of aristocratic ancestry, he has made himself the master of our language, and few writers have his happy gifts of expression. Though comparatively a young man, he is a type of our old-fashioned gentleman in his notions of honor, chivalry, and personal responsibility. It is gratifying to me to see his name imperishably linked with our university. His work will help it in more ways than one.¹

References

1. Reed, Wallace Putnam. “Random Georgia Gossip.” The Savannah Press (Savannah, Georgia), April 27, 1901, p. 4. ↩︎

The Background

Five months after Wallace Putnam Reed’s anecdote about G.L. Norrman and Mrs. Mims, a much-expanded version of the tale made its way to Washington, D.C., where the story was reported in the “One Woman’s View” column of The Washington Post.

The new version included an additional detail about windows, and reduced Norrman to something of a buffoonish caricature, affecting an exaggerated Scandinavian accent and playing on the “dumb Swede” stereotype that was prevalent in the 19th century.¹

Norrman was anything but dumb, of course, speaking at least 3 languages and later described as “one of the best read men in the country and well informed on any and all subjects.”² But why let truth get in the way of a humorous story, eh?

The revised story was subsequently published in newspapers across the United States.

Article Excerpt:

They have been building a Christian Science church down in Atlanta—I think it’s Atlanta—so a man from Georgia tells me, and the architect they selected to do the thing is a Scandinavian who is as frank in manner as he is artistic in practice. When the building was nearly completed, one of the leading women of the church, mother of a very famous Georgia belle, came to look at it.

“Ah, Mr. Blank,” said she, “it is very beautiful: but you musn’t take too much credit to yourself. Thought has played a great part in bringing this to pass. Not work, but thought. I have put my mind on it since it began to be. I have given you absent treatment to help you. That is why you have been so successful. I have helped you greatly, with my thought.”

“Dank you, madam; I dank you much,” responded the architect. “But I wish you had told me about dis sooner yet. I vould haf tole you what to do. Myself, I can build churches. I do not need your thoughts. But it is that man that puts in the glass. Why you not put your mind on him? He haf put in the most tam bad glass whatever I did see.”

When that Christian Science church in Atlanta was completed, the chief woman member of the congregation gazed at it admiringly.

“It is a thought of God materialized,” she said—I don’t pretend, by the way, to have her phraseology exactly, but I think I convey her meaning. “It is thought made manifest. It is mind made visible. What a pity it is not in marble.”

“Ach, madam,” said the architect, “whose fault is that? I haf no thought; I haf only bricks. I build it with bricks. You haf the thoughts. Why did you not think marble while you were thinking?”³

References

1. Swedish Americans – Wikipedia ↩︎
2. “Prominent Architect Here.” The Spartanburg Herald (Spartanburg, South Carolina), September 30, 1909, p. 8. ↩︎
3. “One Woman’s View”. The Washington Post, June 3, 1900, p. 23. ↩︎

The Background

Thomas Morgan of Bruce & Morgan once claimed that G.L. Norrman “made friends easily,”¹ but it could also be said that he made enemies easily.

Norrman’s rivals were as colorful as he was, but none were as endearingly antagonistic as Sue Harper Mims (1842-1913, pictured here), a prominent Atlanta socialite and the leader of the city’s Christian Science congregation.

Between 1898 and 1899, when he designed and oversaw construction of the church’s sanctuary, Norrman — who worshiped Norse gods — made several audaciously disparaging remarks about Christian Science beliefs, drawing rebuke from Mrs. Mims.

It’s hard to determine if Norrman and Mims were truly adversaries or if they just enjoyed taunting each other — perhaps it was a little of both.

Here, Norrman’s friend Wallace Putnam Reed recounted a humorous exchange between Norrman and Mrs. Mims, published in January 1900 for his weekly column in The Augusta Chronicle.

“I see that Architect Godfrey L. Norrman, of Atlanta, has been in Augusta in consultation with the owners of the burned district. Mr. Norrman is not only an accomplished architect, but has a fine sense of humor. He was the architect for the Christian Science Temple in Atlanta, which was erected by Mrs. Livingston Mims. It is a beautiful building of pure white, built after the pattern of the Parthenon, and is made of white plaster over brick walls. When the work was completed and Mrs. Mims was looking at the pretty structure, she exclaimed, “It is beautiful, but I wish it was marble,” whereupon Architect Norrman promptly replied: “Well, Mrs. Mims, you just think it marble, and it will be marble.” It seems that several times during the building of the Temple Mr. Norrman had complained of some indisposition and the Christian Scientist said to him: “Mr. Norrman, just think you are well, and you will be well.” The architect desired her to apply her doctrine to the temple.”²

References

1. Morgan, Thomas H. “The Georgia Chapter of The American Institute of Architects”. The Atlanta Historical Bulletin, Volume 7, No. 28 (September 1943): p. 93. ↩︎
2. “By Hook or By Crook”. The Augusta Chronicle, January 7, 1900, p. 4. ↩︎