Cleveland’s Forgotten Freeways from Cleveland Memory, CSU Special Collections
Category: 1950’s Suburbanism
Cleveland Museum of Art from the Encyclopedia of Cleveland History
Cleveland Museum of Art from the Encyclopedia of Cleveland History
The CLEVELAND MUSEUM OF ART is acknowledged as one of the finest art museums in the U.S. Its collections, facilities, and programs have an international reputation. The museum, incorporated in 1913 and opened to the public on 6 June 1916, was made possible byHINMAN B. HURLBUT†, JOHN HUNTINGTON†, and HORACE KELLEY†, all of whom had bequeathed money specifically for an art museum, as well as by JEPTHA H. WADE I†, whose WADE PARK property had been donated in part for the site of such a facility. The Neoclassic building of white Georgian marble that formed the original museum was designed by the Cleveland firm of HUBBELL & BENESand constructed at a cost of $1.25 million. During the tenure of FREDERIC ALLEN WHITING† as the CMA’s first director (1913-30), a number of local families, including the Allens, Holdens, Huntingtons, Hurlbuts, Nortons, Warners, Severances, and Wades, contributed works of art to the growing facility. In 1919 the first Annual Exhibition of Cleveland Artists & Craftsmen was held. It subsequently became known as the MAY SHOW. WM. M. MILLIKEN† served as second director from 1930-58. During the 1940s and 1950s, a series of large bequests, including the Rogers Bequest and the Severance Fund, allowed the CMA to purchase works and build its collections on a regular basis.
In 1958, three important events occurred in the museum’s history. On March 4, 1958, the CMA’s first addition was completed, doubling its size and enclosing its outdoor garden court. During that year the CMA also received the sizable LEONARD C. HANNA, JR.†, bequest, which provided the funds necessary to function in the mainstream of international art collecting, and Sherman Emery Lee became the museum’s third director. Lee was primarily responsible for the development of the museum’s Oriental collection, which ranks as one of the finest in the country. Another wing was opened in 1971, containing special exhibition galleries, classrooms, lecture halls, and the education department. A third addition to accommodate the museum’s extensive library, as well as 9 new galleries, was completed during the tenure of the fourth director, Evan Hopkins Turner. Under Turner (1983-93), the CMA celebrated its 75th anniversary with shows on Japan, Picasso, and Egypt. While it began charging admission to certain special exhibitions in 1992, it maintained its traditional policy of free admission to the permanent collection. Robert P. Bergman became the museum’s fifth director in 1993.
The museum’s attendance increased notably after 1995 with the introduction of nationally touring commercial exhibits such as Pharaohs: Treasures of Egptian Art from the Louvre (1995) and Vatican Treasures: Early Christian, Renaissance and Baroque Art from the Papal Collections (1998). Under director Robert Bergman (1993-1999), the CMA strenthened its photography collection, as well as its holdings in Indian and Southeast Asian, Early American and medieval art and artifacts. By the early 2000s the museum’s exhibitions also had come to include more contemporary artwork such as modern sculpture, projected images, digital art, and installation pieces.
In October 2005 the CMA began the fourth and largest expansion project in its history. Designed by Uruguayan architect Rafael Vinoly, the renovation would increase gallery space substantially by reconstructing the museum’s east and west wings. The renovation mandated that much of the museum’s permanent collection be placed in storage. For much of 2006, CMA’s University Circle facilities were closed entirely to the public. The largest financial contributions to the renovation project, scheduled for completion in 2011, came from the GEORGE GUND FOUNDATION and the State of Ohio.
Following the retirement in 2005 of Katherine Lee Reed, the museum’s sixth director (2000-2005), Timothy Rub of the Cincinnati Museum of Art was chosen as the CMA’s new CEO and director.
Cleveland Museum of Art Archives, Cleveland Museum of Art.
Wittke, Carl. The First Fifty Years: A History of the Cleveland Museum of Art From 1916-1966 (1966).
Leedy, Walter C. Cleveland Builds an Art Museum: Patronage, Politics, and Architecture, 1884-1916 (1991).
Witchey, Holly Rarick. Fine Arts in Cleveland: An Illustrated History (1994).
Last Modified: 03 Jul 2011 01:40:32 PM
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Highways in Cleveland from the Encyclopedia of Cleveland History
Highways in Cleveland from the Encyclopedia of Cleveland History
HIGHWAYS. Roads in Cleveland and other cities have served 2 main purposes. First, roads were built for commerce, including traffic movement and economic growth. Next, roads helped create and separate neighborhoods, allowing development of specialized districts for housing and business and an increase in property values. Inevitably, proponents of roads for traffic purposes came into conflict with those favoring the community and property interests of those living alongside. Officials in Cleveland and Cuyahoga County enjoyed only modest success in accommodating these conflicting goals. After 1900 state and federal officials financed part of the construction costs, leading to an upward shift in the level of conflict but no better luck in resolving it. The net result during the period between 1796-1990 was the creation of a vast and improved road network that never appeared affordable and adequate for traffic flow and local development. In 1796 MOSES CLEAVELAND† and his survey party reached the site of the city and began marking off streets for future settlement. The grid idea with a couple of radial routes prevailed. Cleaveland’s group sketched PUBLIC SQUARE, with Ontario running north to south and Superior east to west marking the center. Four additional streets bounded the outskirts of the area. In 1797 a second group of surveyors added 3 additional streets to the town plan. Actually, none of these streets existed; the marking of roads was simply a component in the division of land into lots for expeditious sale, the primary interest of the CONNECTICUT LAND CO. The net result of the 2 plattings, however, was to create a frame for Cleveland’s development that emphasized expansion toward the east and south. From 1810-15, only Superior and Water streets were open for travel, but tree stumps and bushes remained as obstacles. Ontario was open south of the square but was equally undeveloped.
During the 1820s, growth of a warehouse and wholesale district in the FLATS along the CUYAHOGA RIVER encouraged officials to develop adjacent roads. On the far north, Bath St. ran between the river and Water St. Farther south, 4 lanes allowed traffic to descend into the Flats from Water and Superior streets. Construction in 1824 of 2 bridges across the river linked commercial and residential development around Public Square with river traffic and the smaller west side. Approval and completion of a route, it appears, rested on a petition presented by property owners, along with the perception among officials that property values and trade would be enhanced. Streets constructed after 1820 often were named for leading businessmen and politicians who fostered commerce. Case St. honored LEONARD CASE†, a prominent real-estate developer. In 1836 the council dedicated Clark St. for Jas. S. Clark, who had constructed the Columbus Bridge with a view toward development of his property in the Flats.
After 1840 leaders in urban America undertook the task of improving their streets. In 1880 Geo. Waring, an engineer active in street and sanitary improvements, conducted a survey of street conditions in the nation’s cities. Half of the streets remained unpaved; only 2.5% of the paved roads were constructed of asphalt, a smooth, dust-free surface. During the 1870s, officials in cities such as New York, Cleveland, Chicago, and Washington, DC, had installed wooden blocks, which muffled the noise of horses and carts. But wooden streets, soaked in creosote oil as a preservative, fueled the fires that occasionally destroyed portions of major cities. Other surfaces included cobblestone and granite blocks, set on beds of sand, and gravel, the cheapest type of surface. Because abutters rather than the city usually financed improvements, the emphasis was on rapid extension of streets to houses and buildings in outlying districts rather than on securing the best surface. Many hoped that street improvements would encourage a quick increase in property values, perhaps leading to the creation of exclusive residential districts, such as Chicago’s Union Park and EUCLID AVE.. in Cleveland.
The desire for miles of cheap roadway guided street designers in Cleveland. By the early 1880s, a lengthy network of streets, bridges, and viaducts had been constructed. The city had increased in size to 26.3 sq. mi., and the number of streets had jumped to 1,155, running 444 mi. in length. The CENTRAL VIADUCT was under construction to connect the city at Ohio St. with outlying areas south and west. The quality of surfaces varied; approx. 92 mi. had been graded, and another 32 mi. graded and curbed. During the 1840s, city officials had paved Superior St., and by the 1880s paving, though still costly, had been applied to 58 mi. Altogether, 41% of the city’s streets were improved. However popular these improvements, neither the costs nor the construction materials proved satisfactory. During the mid-1880s, officials installed block stone over several streets, including Broadway, Woodland, Superior, and Erie, a length of 13 mi., at a cost of $723,000. But the block stone was in fact the third type of improvement attempted; earlier pavements, including asphalt, had become “unendurable” and had generated a “long controversy.” Nor was controversy limited to this particular project. During the early 1870s, property owners had petitioned the council to open 17 streets, including Payne and Sheriff. Approval rested on the legal requirement that petitioners would repay bonds issued by the city through tax assessments amounting to more than $1 million. Once the improvements were in place, however, several of the beneficiaries secured a court order preventing the city from collecting the taxes.
Around 1900, rapid increases in auto sales began to highlight older problems and create new ones for those charged with road building. Competition between trolley operators and motorists for limited space added a fresh dimension to the traditional question of whether roads should benefit traffic flow or property values. Unable to satisfy diverse constituencies, road officials accelerated the pace of improvements and extensions. Between 1900-40, officials at every level paved more than 1.2 million mi. Local authorities proved unable to finance such costly improvements, forcing the level of highway funding (and decision making) up to the state and federal levels. In fact, the “battle for the streets” in cities such as Chicago, Los Angeles, Pittsburgh, and Cleveland prompted federal officials to contemplate funding the construction of a national expressway system. During the 1920s, road engineers and political leaders in the Cleveland region undertook major programs of extending and widening streets and roads. Federal and state funds were available for a number of these projects, which helped reduce the burden on local ratepayers and permitted more construction. Four-lane highways, replacing narrower and often twisting roads built prior to heavy traffic, were a popular design around Cleveland and many cities. On the far east, Kinsman, Euclid, and Lee roads were among those upgraded; and on the west, the 4-lane projects included West Lake Rd. Widening of older streets inside Cleveland proved slower and more costly, but engineers widened and resurfaced a large number, especially where trolleys and automobiles competed for space on narrow brick pavements. Projects such as the widening and extension of Chester from E. 13th to WADE PARK had to take place in sections of 8 to 10 blocks a year. In 1928 engineers counted nearly 1,800 mi. of roadway in the region constructed with federal, state, and county funds. Even more, they planned redevelopment and construction totaling 281 mi. in Cuyahoga County and another 312 mi. in the outlying areas at a cost of $63 million, exclusive of rights-of-way and damages.
Widening and extending roads failed to solve the traffic mess. In 1934, the low point of the Great Depression, county engineers surveyed traffic volume on major streets. During a 12-hour period, they counted 43,000 vehicles crossing the Superior Bridge. The outward movement of households and businesses added traffic along newer roads. Engineers counted 13,000 vehicles on Cedar Ave. west of Fairmount; 1,500 crossed Cedar at Warrensville, roughly the edge of suburban settlement. Leaders in politics and highway engineering added to the problem by spreading funds across numerous projects, partially satisfying demand and yet constructing roads that were below the standard of heavier and faster traffic. By the 1930s engineers had begun to define the problems of constructing a highway system in political rather than technical terms. Road building always required the support of politicians, and the difference after the 1920s is one of emphasis. In brief, engineers lacked the financial resources and legal remedies required to construct a road network adequate to traffic. Demand for road improvements routinely outstripped resources. Not until additional funds were made available and direction of road building centralized, many argued, could engineers improve the road network. Even during harsh Depression days, moreover, automobile registrations jumped 16%, and travel increased 45%. Truckers and motorists contended with traffic jams; downtown businessmen faced declining sales; and all endured the waste and tragedy of accidents. “Our street systems,” reported the Regional Assn. of Cleveland in 1941, “belong to the horse-and-buggy era.”
By the early 1940s, the construction of limited-access roads, popularly known as expressways, appeared to offer a solution to traffic jams and political stalemate. In 1939 the U.S. Bureau of Public Roads offered formal articulation of a plan for constructing a national expressway system. Within a year or two, road engineers and city planners formed committees to fix local routes and secure the support prerequisite to a lobbying campaign with state and federal governments. In Nov. 1944, members of the committee in Cleveland published a plan for expressway construction consisting of an inner and outer beltway plus 7 radial routes. Expressways would eventually serve 20% of the region’s traffic, or so ran the reasoning, drawing enough traffic from local roads to eliminate “need for many extensions and widenings.” Fewer autos on local streets, in this scheme, would “ensure quiet in the neighborhood,” encouraging residents not to seek “`greener pastures’ in the suburbs.” Proponents of expressways in Cleveland, as elsewhere, also promised a reduction in the number of accidents and, of course, “quick movement of heavy traffic.” Estimates of costs ran to $228 million during the course of 10 to 20 years, with the state and federal governments paying most of the bill.
The national expressway system was a popular idea. In 1944 members of Congress and Pres. Franklin D. Roosevelt approved construction of the Interstate Highway System but failed to vote funds for construction costs. Despite the widespread celebration of such limited-access roads as the Pennsylvania Turnpike (opened 1940), leaders in the highway field, including truckers, economists, and the directors of farm and automotive groups, always sought to shift the financial burden of highway construction from themselves to general revenues, to taxes on other groups of road users, and to property owners. In cities such as Cleveland, debate revolved around the potential of expressways for serving urban renewal, resuscitating the downtown and speeding up traffic. Not until 1956 could members of Congress and Pres. Dwight D. Eisenhower approve dedication of the gasoline tax to rapid development of the federal highway systems, particularly the Natl. System of Interstate & Defense Highways. During the mid-1950s, engineers in Cleveland spent $14 million to construct a section of the Innerbelt running 6/10 of a mile. In the future, federal officials would pay 90% of those costs, leaving the state responsible only for 10%. Free expressways proved no panacea in Cleveland. The scale of the interstate system, with its multiple lanes and wide interchanges, heightened the differences between those favoring traffic flow and others committed to property development. Conflict in the political arena began during the process of identifying routes. A route proposal submitted by a group of consulting engineers rested “solely on the basis of traffic,” the planning director of Cleveland advised the county engineer on 1 June 1954, and “would result in so great a disruption of over-all community plan that we cannot endorse it.” Route coordinates remained imprecise for several years pending the availability of funds. By Dec. 1957, however, the report of another consulting firm had it that “the primary purpose of a freeway is to serve traffic. . . .”
Between 1958 and the mid-1970s, planning and construction of the interstate system emerged as tangible facts on the landscape. Generally, those favoring traffic service predominated. The new Innerbelt, according to a report of 7 Oct. 1961 in the Cleveland PLAIN DEALER, “Loosens Downtown Traffic.” Occasionally, proponents of local development and property values managed to secure changes in routings and the elimination of extensions. In mid-1965, officials of the State Highway Dept. agreed to major changes in the location of interstate routes through the eastern suburbs. Observers noted that residents of these communities possessed wealth, which was imagined to translate directly into political protection, but unity and savvy were far more significant in the counsels of government. Traditional programs of road building and remodeling continued during the period of constructing the interstate system. The out-migration of households and businesses and a doubling of traffic during the first decade after World War II guided highway planners. From 1946 through the late 1950s, engineering staffs emphasized removal of bricks and streetcar tracks and repaving with concrete and asphalt. Beginning in 1946, officials spent $80,000 a mile to remodel Cedar Ave. between E. 2nd St. and E. 109th. The interstate system never refocused traffic toward downtown, nor did it encourage residents to remain in the city. By the late 1960s, officials had to extend main roads far to the south, west, and east in order to serve traffic and property in numerous subdivisions around the region. During the 1970s, attention in the region and nation shifted to repair and rehabilitation. Cleveland exhausted its funds, and other levels of government had to contend with inflation, declining resources, and fierce competition for road improvements.
From the early 19th century through the late 1970s, engineers, politicians, and developers in the Cleveland region directed the funding and construction of a large and up-to-date highway system. Materials and design approximated national standards in each period. Equally, road builders in the Cleveland region served the conflicting interests of highway users and adjoining owners of property. During the period up to ca. 1900, property enjoyed the greatest attention; thereafter, the crush of traffic forced greater attention to the design and siting of roads with a view toward vehicular service. After 1900, moreover, the momentum of highway building encouraged the training of professionals in the fields of road construction and land-use planning. Professional status conferred political and social legitimacy, allowing planners and engineers to interpret traffic and urban changes for politicians and residents. Engineers in the Cleveland region and nationwide held a larger influence and exercised a greater authority, especially because they had access to the revenues created by state and federal taxes on the sale of gasoline. Nonetheless, rarely could engineers in the Cleveland region–or in the nation as a whole–fund and construct the mileage demanded. During this entire period, road builders served the conflicting needs of a commercial civilization.
Mark H. Rose
Florida Atlantic Univ.
See also STREETS, URBAN TRANSPORTATION.
No Interest, No Time, No Money: Civil Defense in Cleveland in the Cold War
Article from Ohio History Journal and the Ohio Historical Society.
The Man in the Tower by George E. Condon
Chapter on Cyrus S. Eaton from George E. Condon’s: Cleveland The Best Kept Secret courtesy of Cleveland State Special Collections
This chapter was written in 1967 more than a decade before Eaton’s death in 1979
The entire book link is here (if it does not load right away, hit “refresh”)
The Struggle for Fair Housing in Cleveland Heights: The St. Ann Audit
Article about the battle for fair housing in Cleveland Heights. From the Cleveland Heights Historical Society
The Heights Freeway Fight
Cyrus Eaton – Khrushchev’s Favorite Capitalist by Jay Miller
Cyrus Eaton – Khruschev’s Favorite Capitalist
by Jay Miller
For the quiet 1950s, before anti-Vietnam War marches became a staple of local and national television news, the crowd gathered on Public Square on January 7, 1959, was a rare sight. Police struggled to maintain order as several hundred protestors milled around in the cold waiting for Anastas Mikoyan, First Deputy Premier of the Soviet Union, to come out of Terminal Tower. Shortly before noon he emerged with his host, industrialist Cyrus Eaton, and was greeted with boos, snowballs and even a rock whizzing past him.
It was the height of the Cold War and the people of the United States and the Soviet Union each believed the other was building up its military might for a next war that would decide whether the world would be run by democratic governments powered by free enterprise or by a dictatorship built on state socialism.
As Mikoyan and Eaton entered their limousine some of the protestors got in their cars and followed the pair up Euclid Avenue to the Union Club at East 12th Street. The Union Club, whose membership roster had in the past included presidents Ulysses S. Grant, Rutherford B. Hayes, James Garfield, William McKinley and William Howard Taft, was going to host a leader of what at the time was the very un-American Communist world.
Several of the cars bore signs that said, “Mikoyan go home and take Eaton with you.”
The protestors later identified themselves to reporters as members of the United Hungarian Society of Cleveland, the Hungarian Liberation Committee and a variety of other groups of people from places like Estonia, Latvia and the Ukraine, countries under the dominance of the Soviet Union.
Once at the Union Club, the lunchtime favorite of Cleveland’s corporate elite, Mikoyan dined with a group of business leaders invited by Eaton. After the meal he would appeal for help persuading the federal government to approve a large Soviet purchase, one of the largest purchases ever, of American steel for natural gas and oil pipelines.
Then, he also took a moment to praise his host. Eaton, Mikoyan told the lunchers, “has become more popular in our country than any capitalist has ever been before … This is not an ordinary capitalist.”
No, Cyrus Eaton was not an ordinary capitalist. In his customary double-breasted dark blue serge suit, crisp white shirt, gray silk tie and shiny black shoes, the tall, silver-haired Eaton, then 75, looked no different than any of other men – it would be years before women could enter – having lunch that day at the Union Club. But his unpopular views on how the United States should build economic ties with its arch rival at the height of the Cold War were unusual, especially in an era when businessmen tended to their companies and didn’t take strong stands on international affairs.
So while the left-wing Nation called Eaton a “merchant of peace” and an enlightened capitalist, the right-wing National Review wondered how this “towering figure in American industrial history” could have been transformed into “America’s Number One Fellow Traveler,” using a term that had come to mean a Communist sympathizer.
With his intelligence, aggressiveness and money Eaton had found for himself a role in thawing relations between the Western world and the Communist bloc in the 1950s and early 1960s. At a time when Soviet premier Nikita S. Khruschev was threatening to “bury” the democratic world, Eaton was the first American businessman to advocate closer relations with the Soviet Union. He feared nuclear war and believed that tensions between the East and the West could be lessened through trade.
To Eaton, spending on nuclear missiles that could destroy the world was bad for business and not the best way to ease tensions.
“You speak of trading with the Soviets and people say, ‘You’re strengthening them against us!’” he told an interviewer in 1963 when he was 80 years old. “I feel that most people are less likely to engage in fighting if they have the comforts and the needs they wish. I’m not worried to see the 700 million people of China prosper.
“The sooner we get to trading with them, the Soviets and the Chinese, the better.”
Over the next 20 years Eaton would maintained contacts in the Communist world, making and made trips to Eastern Europe, Cuba and even North Vietnam. Until the later years, when the Soviet Union decided it would not publicize its relationships with westerners like Eaton to avoid antagonizing China, Eaton’s picture would appear on the front page of the Soviet newspaper Pravda once during every trip.
He made Pageant magazine’s list of the 10 most controversial Americans in 1962. In 1971, Parade magazine headline over story about Eaton read, “The Communists Best Capitalist Friend.”
While he became a player on the world stage relatively late in life, Eaton’s interest in Russia actually dated to his first years in Cleveland.
Eaton was the fifth of nine children born in 1883 to a farmer and general store owner in Pugwash, Nova Scotia. He first came to Cleveland when his uncle, the Rev. Charles Eaton, was assigned to the Euclid Avenue Baptist Church in 1901. A pillar of that church was John D. Rockefeller. Rockefeller had created Standard Oil Co. in Cleveland in 1870 and formally retired from the oil giant in 1897 at the age of 58. At the turn of the 20th Century he was spending much of his time on his philanthropies, but he was still an active and engaged investor.
Rockefeller had grown up and created his oil empire in Cleveland when he was a younger man. He had moved his business to New York City in 1884 to be closer to the worldwide trading in oil. But in these early years of his retirement – he would live until 1937, dying six weeks before 98th birthday – he was splitting his time between New York City and Forest Hills, his summer home in East Cleveland.
Cyrus Eaton would spend summers living with his uncle and doing odd jobs at Forest Hills for $2 a day at the recommendation of Mrs. Rockefeller, who thought it a better job than the hotel clerk’s job Eaton had lined up. Eaton would run errands, carry messages from the wire room which kept Rockefeller in touch with his empire or caddy for Rockefeller and his uncle on the nine-hole golf course at Forest Hills.
Eventually, Uncle Charles would leave Cleveland, moving on to the Madison Avenue Baptist Church in New York City. He left the ministry to work in industrial relations for the General Electric Co. and then ran for Congress from New Jersey in 1924. He served for 28 years and, as chairman of the House Foreign Affairs Committee was one of eight American signers of the United Nations Charter. His nephew would develop similar interests.
Another of Rockefeller’s golfing partners was William Rainey Harper, president of the Rockefeller-endowed University of Chicago. After the older men played the Forest Hills golf course, Eaton and Harper’s son Samuel would occasionally play a round themselves. The elder Harper was interested in Russia and Samuel, who became a lifelong friend to Eaton, would eventually head the Russian language department at Chicago. Samuel Harper would spend six months a year in Russia until his death in 1941. “Sam’s enthusiasm for Russian culture and Russian children had a great impact on my life,” Eaton once said.
At the time, Eaton had his sights set on following his uncle into the Baptist Church. He studied to be a minister at McMaster University, then a Baptist school located in Toronto. He graduated with a degree in philosophy in 1905 and spent a summer as a ranch hand in western Canada before returning to Cleveland. He served as a lay Baptist minister for a time, but he never really answered the call to the ministry.
Earlier, Rockefeller had offered Eaton a job with Standard Oil in New York City, which he declined. But now, Rockefeller put him to work at East Ohio Gas Corp., a Rockefeller interest.
In 1907, Rockefeller sent him back to western Canada to negotiate for utility franchises in Manitoba. He’d secured a handful of franchise agreements but found on his return to Cleveland that the Panic of 1907, which sent many banks and businesses into bankruptcy, he found his employers weren’t able to secure the financing needed to build the power plant needed to operate the franchises. So Eaton went back to Canada, where he convinced a solvent bank that the franchises he held would enable him to repay a loan for an electric plant.
Soon he had a business, Consolidated Gas and Electric Co., one of the first utility holding companies, with franchises in Illinois, Iowa, Kansas and Nebraska. By the time of the Great Depression, he was a major force in the utilities industry.
By that time he was a millionaire several times over and had a home on Euclid Avenue, one of the country’s most prestigious addresses. There he began to raise a family with his wife, the former Margaret House, daughter of a Cleveland physician. They had married in 1909 and would eventually have seven children before divorcing in 1934.
In 1913 Eaton became a U.S. citizen and in 1916 bought an interest, later a controlling interest, in Otis & Co., a stock brokerage and investment banking company. For the next decade he would use Otis and another creation, a holding company called Continental Shares, Inc. Holding companies in the early part of the century were investment companies which owned shares in manufacturers, utilities and the like, and sold shares of the holding company to the public. They also created shares to buy other companies. They were an unregulated blend of mutual funds and conglomerates.
Eaton would use Continental Shares to buy large, often controlling interests in companies into several major industries, often, fighting publicly and in court to overturn existing management and boards of directors.
One adversary, Cleveland lawyer Newton D. Baker, while fending off a Continental Shares offer for a client, called the acquisitive Eaton, “a ruthless industrial Napoleon.”
In 1925, he was leafing through a newspaper in the Copley Plaza Hotel in Boston while his six-year-old son, Cyrus Jr., napped. The pair was returning from a canoe trip in Canada. In one of the papers, he spied an item that a New York bank had backed out of a deal to refinance Trumbull Steel Co. of Warren, Ohio. He picked up the phone. In a few weeks, after an $18 million investment, he owned a steel mill. Within a few years, he owned several more, the largest of which was Cleveland-based Republic Steel Co., the third-largest steelmaker in the country.
Eaton then became a major force in the rubber industry, as he and others sympathetic to his ambitions began buying stock in Goodyear Tire & Rubber Co., Firestone Tire & Rubber Co., and U.S. Rubber Co. By 1930, Eaton could name directors of his choosing to Goodyear’s board of directors.
Eaton and Continental Shares were also quietly buying stock in Commonwealth Edison Co., People’s Gas, Light and Coke Co. and other electric utilities controlled by Chicagoan Samuel Insull. Insull wanted Eaton out and he eventually paid $56 million — $48 million in cash, the rest in securities — to the “financial buccaneer” as Eaton was being called, for stock that was selling at the time for no more than $50 million. Today it would be called greenmail. Eaton was reported at the time to have made $19 million for his efforts.
But by this time the stock market was crashing. By 1933, this $100 million net worth evaporated. Eaton’s defeat was so complete that a 1934 divorce won by his first wife stipulated that should Eaton’s net worth ever rise above $105,000, he would have to buy his ex-wife a house. She eventually got the house.
Eaton dug his way out of his financial hole at Otis & Co. developing the business of underwriting the sale of railroad and utility bonds. His goal was to wrest control of this lucrative business from the eastern banking houses. The railroads and utilities had long given New York investment bankers the business without competitive bidding. Eaton thought he could get the railroads, which he saw himself one day owning, lower interest rates that the New York bankers weren’t offering.
In 1938, Eaton and Harry Stuart of Halsey, Stuart & Co., a Chicago investment banker, proposed to Robert Young, a C&O director and ally, that they would make a bid for a $30 million C&O bond issue. When, at a board meeting that fall in Cleveland, the agenda reached the bond issue, Young proffered the offer from Eaton and Stuart. The board at first indicated it would prefer to do business with longtime bankers Morgan Stanley & Co., and Kuhn, Loeb & Co., despite a higher underwriting cost. Young suggested that board members consult with their lawyers before risking a stockholders’ lawsuit from Young. The board the next day accepted the Eaton-Stuart bid.
Young in 1943 asked Eaton to join the Chessie board of directors and in 1954 sold Eaton his stock in the C&O so he could pursue the New York Central Railroad. Eaton became chairman and moved into the office on the 36th floor of the Terminal Tower. He held that position until 1973.
In the early 1940s Eaton became interested in an iron ore deposit in northwestern Ontario beneath Steep Rock Lake. Eaton convinced both the War Production Board and the Reconstruction Finance Corp. that it would be feasible to pump the water out of the lake to mine the ore. The RFC lent him $5 million and the Canadian government helped build power lines, a rail spur, docks and loading equipment at Steep Rock. By 1947 the Eaton mining company was taking one million tons of ore out of Steep Rock.
In 1948 Eaton began a collaboration with California shipbuilder Henry J. Kaiser to break into the auto business, which was booming after the end of World War II. The partnership collapsed, however, and investigations and sanctions by the Securities and Exchange Commission and the National Association of Securities Dealers pushed Otis & Co. into bankruptcy.
Eaton lost his investment banking business but he managed to keep busy during the postwar years. In 1961 Fortune magazine reported that he had a personal fortune of $100 million. Among his major investments were stakes in Cleveland Electric Illuminating Co., Kansas City Power & Light Co., the C&O, Steep Rock, Detroit Steel Co. and Sherwin-Williams Co.
By the mid-1950s Eaton’s focus had shifted from the financial world to the political one. The nuclear escalation in the world concerned Eaton.
In 1955 he offered to host a meeting at of a group of scientists and philosophers from both the western world and the Soviet Union at his ancestral home in Canada. The scientists, many of whom had worked to create the United States first atomic bomb, were concerned about the danger of nuclear weapons.
“What got me started was the atomic bomb and the realization that our civilization and theirs could be wiped out overnight,” Eaton recalled on his 90th birthday in 1973. “I thought I ought to do something to prevent this, and I helped put together and financed a meeting of American and Soviet scientists at my boyhood home in Pugwash, Nova Scotia.”
Soon, Eaton was writing and speaking out for closer relations with Communist Russia. “I think the more contact we have between people of the two nations the quicker we’ll realize that we are all human, with weaknesses, with limitations, and that for better or for worse we had better agree not to annihilated each other,” he wrote in the New York Herald Tribune on Nov. 8, 1957. “Either we’ll live together or we’ll perish together.”
The following May, he was interviewed on television by Mike Wallace (click below):
http://www.hrc.utexas.edu/multimedia/video/2008/wallace/eaton_cyrus.html
“We can’t destroy Communism. It’s here to stay,” he said. “And to imagine that they could convert us to Communism is just silly … No one in the world would be more unhappy under Communism than I, because I am dedicated to the other principle.”
In August 1958 Eaton went to Moscow with his second wife, Anne Kinder Jones, who he had married in 1937. They met with Soviet premier Khruschev and visited farms and steel mills. On his return he gave a series of speeches at the National Press Club, the Cleveland City Club and elsewhere arguing for a closer relationship with the Russians.
In 1959, Soviet Prime Minister Nikita Khrushchev presented Cyrus Eaton with a gift of a Russian sled pulled by three matched gray stallions. The rig was called a troika and Eaton and his would ride the troika in the winter at his Acadia Farms, his 900-acre home and farm in Northfield, now a housing development called Eaton Estates.
After his luncheon at the Union Club, the Plain Dealer called Eaton the “Apostle of Appeasement.” Elsewhere he was called other things, such as “the Kremlin’s favorite capitalist.”
In 1960 the Soviets awarded him the Lenin Peace Prize. He hoped for the rest of this life to pair it with the Nobel Peace Prize.
He also interjected himself into local politics. In 1967, he took up the cause of Carl Stokes, who was running for mayor of Cleveland. His wife Anne, was a Stokes volunteer. Eaton had hired Stokes to pursue a lawsuit against the Cleveland Trust Co. Eaton was a stockholder in what was then the city’s most powerful bank (it became Ameritrust Corp. before it was merged into what is now KeyCorp.), but he believed its managers violated Ohio banking law in the way they perpetuated their power on the bank’s board of directors.
Stokes credits Eaton with providing him with insight into the thinking of the upper echelons of Cleveland’s business community. Eaton may also have played a role in bringing an experienced campaign public relations expert, Al Ostrow, onto the Stokes campaign team.
Age and changing times eventually diminished Eaton’s ability to move in international political circles. As a New Deal Democrat and a Khruschev ally, changes in government in both countries moved Eaton further and further from the center of the action.
So he retired to Acadia Farms where for many years he raised international grand champion shorthorn and polled shorthorn cattle.
Cleveland Art Museum History and Mission
Video Profile of Sherman Lee
Profile of Sherman Lee, former director of The Cleveland Museum of Art. Video courtesy of WVIZ / PBS ideastream