William (E, or is it G?) Swekosky (1894-1963) was a character in the one-of-a-kind sense.
Florence Shickle of the Post Dispatch wrote of him in 1976: “He was a dentist by profession, a photographer by choice, and a romantic by nature.”
He worked in a cramped office on South Jefferson Avenue (right where Lee’s Famous Recipe Chicken stands today). The home he kept was a bungalow on Jules Street in the Benton Park neighborhood.
The pallbearer of old mansions
But Swekosky “lived grandly, exuberantly in the past”. During a 40 year period, he amassed a loosely organized collection of over 4000 photographic negatives. These were sometimes unattributed, and sometimes extensively annotated. However, the photos speak for themselves, in their depictions of everyday life in St. Louis of the early 20th century. Outside of Depression-era WPA project film and photos from the papers, Swekosky’s collection is critical, not just to understanding what St. Louis looked like, but also how it felt in those days. There may be no better collection; and if his commentary was factually dubious at times, it was always colorful and intriguing.
He had a habit, too, of finding buildings about to be demolished, and writing to the newspapers about their heritage and history. He always made a note of when the structure would be razed, and attached photos. Although he associated with Landmarks Association and Missouri Historical Society, he seldom argued publicly for preservation, but rather acted as an obituary writer, pointing out the builders, owners and stories associated with each building.
There is much to say about this fellow, so lost in his hobby that he scarcely had time for his occupation. Let’s start at the beginning – how an incurable romantic; a man who referred to himself as the “pallbearer for old mansions” got his start.
The origin of Swekosky
Young William Swekosky was raised in the family home on Preston Place in the Bohemian Hill neighborhood near Lafayette Square. As a boy, he roamed the neighborhood, enchanted by the mansions with their imposing facades, fountains and statues in neatly kept yards. His father was a grocer who prospered enough to have retired at age 40.
William began his career working as a title researcher for a Clayton bank. Here he developed an interest in local buildings and architecture. William’s career choice dismayed his father. There were few opportunities for making one’s fortune from clerical work. He convinced the young man that the chances of one day occupying his own mansion in the Square were better if he became a professional. With that, he put up the funds to send William to St. Louis University Dental School, from where he graduated in 1916.
It’s necessary here to digress into an odd occurrence in the story, one that doesn’t feature in what is easily learned about Swekosky.
Swekosky takes a bride, and more
At a New Year’s Eve party in 1915, William first met Anna Hodgins. He was immediately smitten, and because William’s father wanted him to marry a Bohemian, they kept their relationship clandestine. William and Anna finally eloped in 1917, while continuing to live separately and maintaining a secret marriage. They were finally outed when William refused to let another gentleman dance with Anna, protesting loudly that she was his wife.
From later court testimony we learn that William, a somewhat unlikely Lothario, took up with another woman named Louise. In mid-1919, when he refused to break off that relationship, Anna filed for, and obtained a divorce.
Two days later, William tried to convince Anna that they should be together, and they began dating. He seems to have promised to remarry her, and this went on for some time.
According to Anna, they planned a wedding for the Hotel Statler, but he failed to show up, calling her later to explain that he had been too ill to travel. She testified that he set a second date, but she overheard him on the phone, planning a rendezvous with yet another woman for the same day.
Trouble in paradise
Frustrated and angry, Anna decided then to confront William in his dental office. She showed up with a gun and fired a shot at him. William hightailed it out of there. According to police reports, Anna then claimed to have swallowed approximately two ounces of chloroform in a suicide attempt. Police took her to City Hospital, where the attending physician found no trace of poisoning. Anna attributed this miracle to having drank a cup of coffee before the medical examination.
On December 18, 1921, Anna was booked on assault with intent to kill. The Soulard Station jail released her after the posting of a $500.00 bond.
Swekosky apparently dropped the charges in a cooler moment. Then the old adage that Hell hath no fury as a woman scorned proved its point. Anna filed a breach of promise suit for $25,000. She told the Post Dispatch “There is no dictating to the heart; I love him still, and always will”.
Tidying up the mess
For his part, William claimed that he only dated her again to keep her from appearing at his office and making a scene. He hadn’t intended to remarry, and never told her he would. He added that she had tried to kill him. His attorney introduced a 1920 letter from Anna, agreeing to a $2,000.00 lump sum alimony, which released William from all future claims.
Until the mid-1930’s there were laws in most states for breach of promise suits applying to broken engagements. Virginity was serious business, and there could be severe financial consequences for making off with another’s virtue under the promise of a permanent bond. These cases sought relief in what was termed “heart balm”, and they became topical in local gossip as to who was being victimized. The courts tended to sympathize with the jilted party, almost exclusively the woman in a relationship. Therefore, it was fairly easy for Anna to come away with a judgement against Swekosky for $6,500.00.
In August 1923, William E. Swekosky of 1730 Preston Place filed for bankruptcy. The unpaid judgment against him left him with assets of $789.00 and liabilities of $7,641.00. At this point Anna disappears from the press entirely, and William also goes unmentioned for a short while. He will reappear in an entirely different context soon. Stay tuned for that post.
Sources:
St Louis Post Dispatch articles from 1921, 1922, 1923
St Louis Star and Times from 1923
Detroit Free Press from 1923
For an enlightening look at the subject of heart balm, I recommend this article by Smithsonian: https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/how-heart-balm-racket-convinced-america-women-were-no-good-180968144/
