When Bank of Italy opened its new skyscraper at First and Santa Clara in 1927, the local papers treated the event as a major milestone in San Jose history.
Initially, A.P. Giannini’s company operated its first-ever branch outside of San Francisco at a different location in downtown San Jose, beginning in 1909. Yet when the new 12-story Italian Renaissance Revival structure finally debuted, it became San Jose’s tallest building, a claim it retained for 60 years. (Learn about A Little Fellow, a movie playing at Cinequest that chronicles A.P. Giannini’s life.)
Designed by the San Francisco architectural firm of Henry A. Minton, the Bank of Italy debuted to rousing fanfare. On opening day, the San Jose Mercury Herald ran page after page of ads from local businesses, all welcoming Bank of Italy to the neighborhood. Nearby banks, dry cleaners, butchers, repair services, grocers, flower shops, confectioners, restaurants and insurance agents all gushed over the new building, which rose 300 feet above street level, “up where the air is rare,” as one Merc page stated. One ad even called the building a “temple of finance.”
For the construction, most of the subcontractors came from San Francisco, except for two local legends. Lions Furniture supplied 8000 yards of battleship linoleum, 500 washable Tontine window shades and the entire steel filing cabinet system. The tower atop the building featured tile work by the Solon and Schemmel Tile Company (S&S), the same folks whose work still remains in various places throughout San Jose, including a few houses in Willow Glen.
The Mercury Herald also published extensive column space on all the bank executives and vice-presidents, including a mention of all the fraternal organizations of which they were a member. In addition to Giannini, and Bank of Italy president James A. Bacigalupi of Los Gatos, the Merc prominently featured the likes of John Russell, John Boccardo, Herman Roesti and several others.
On opening day, Giannini himself even penned a story for the Mercury Herald. Proclaiming the Bank of Italy as the dominating financial institution of Western America, Giannini spelled out many of the bank’s policies he claimed made it successful, including customer service, ownership stocks and upward mobility for employees.
That was nearly 100 years ago. Downtown San Jose was a different place.
Nowadays the building pales by comparison. Empty and abandoned, it is a temple of ruin. Many of the windows are boarded up. Pieces of the structure are falling onto the pavement below. There are cracks, chips, holes and splotches of graffiti. The bank depository box along Santa Clara Street is smashed. There is open-air drug use and garbage. Seemingly every other day, pools of urine at the front of the building snake their way across the sidewalk. The most recent tenants on the street level were a pawn shop and a series of trashy nightclubs that no one else in the neighborhood ever wanted.
But there is hope. Activity is afoot. People are working.
A collaborative partnership has grandiose plans to replace previous grandiose plans that never actually happened. The current scheme is to convert the former offices on every floor into residential units. Everyone wants the plan to succeed. There is too much history to ignore. The building is too important.
Whatever happens, we should ensure the project unfolds in a way that would make Giannini proud. All hail the little fellow!
