Great Hotels West of the Mississippi

Story and photography by
Nancy & Eric Anderson 

 

A huge elegant hotel in Colorado Springs built because a wealthy miner felt slighted by the hotel where he usually stayed. A vast sprawling resort in Phoenix, Arizona put up by an ambitious architect in the hope of rich clients -- a few months before the Great Depression. A refined, charming hideaway in a remote canyon in the middle of bustling Los Angeles.

What do they have in common? Just a place where the quest is king.

The Broadmoor, Colorado Springs

Most hotels are used to distinguished guests, but probably no visitors were more important to the Broadmoor Hotel than the 45 who arrived in a special train one day in September 1920. They were personal friends of the hotel owner and surely the most celebrated and discriminating of guests. They were the leading hotel men in America brought in private railroad cars from all over the country to the Broadmoor by Spencer Penrose, the man who'd built it from the fortune he'd amassed in the Utah Copper Company.

The gesture was particularly Penrosian, exactly his style.

He wanted his competitors to see what he had- the best hotel west of the Mississippi. A week later his quests returned to their own hotels exhausted, the price one paid for the Penrose treatment: banquets, balls and airplane races, golf, fishing and hunting expeditions, then trips across the Rockies themselves. Although exhausted, they were nevertheless impressed. Here was a hotel with its own greenhouse, its own theater, even its own brokerage office complete with ticker tape. It had a New York City orchestra, a 200-foot flagpole and the largest swimming pool in Colorado.

Guests who came in first decade of the hotel's life, that glorious epoch of the Terrific Twenties didn't have to swim. They could enjoy the now fad sunbathing, the new sport tennis, the now excitement polo. They could also tour the high country in a sensational 9-car fleet of 7-passenger Pierce Arrows.

The Broadmoor has always had style. Its first golf course was laid out in 1918 from 135 acres of brush by the master architect himself, Donald Ross (its second 18-hole course was added in 1965 by Robert Trent Jones, a third by the Arnold Palmer organization ten years later). In 1918, the Broadmoor golf pro, "Long Jim Barnes", was the highest paid in the world ($15,000 for the summer).

He probably earned his money. The dour Scots are not particularly noted for their sense of humor, but it's likely Donald Ross had a grin on his flinty face when he carved the golf course from the side of a mountain, now renovated by Nicklaus Design. The South golf course, the third created, is an especially demanding one, designed to make the golfer plan every short, select the correct club and then hit the ball right.

Said Bill Kingsley, then at the front desk in the golf club, “If you come off the course talking to yourself we know you've played South. Why? Well, if you come to a gully - and you will come to a gully -- you have to decide, ’Do I lay up or can I carry the gully today?' So you decide. And the decision is always the wrong one!"

Decisions stay come easier in the other sports at the Broadmoor. There are plenty available. The resort was been called the Number One Teaching Staff in America by TENNIS Magazine in 2006 and tennis buffs swarm over the all weather courts, competing in enthusiasm with the squash players, the skeet shooters, the scuba divers, the joggers, the bicyclists, and the swimmers (there are three heated pools). Then there’s the sp, of course, and also art classes.

In season the skiers appear and, of course, there was always ice hockey and figure skating in the huge area that in 1994 replaced the Broadmoor World Arena that had  produced three Olympic, ten world and twenty-three National ice skating champions.

But the real Broadmoor champions are the staff, a factor true of all the great hotels. The institutions may be magnificent, but it's always the employees who make guests come back. Douglass Cogswell, then the general manager of the hotel, was proud of his staff. "My people are committed to hospitality," he said. "`They maintain the traditions of the past, a particularly important: concept at the present because the hotel business is changing rapidly these days and becoming focused on what is not always so important.

"What's important?

"An attractive room, soft fluffy pillows, crisp white sheets, a crystal clean bath. A wonderfully filling meal served at a pace that's kind to your system -- and genuine kindness to guests whether the hotel employee is desk clerk, waiter or maid."

The Arizona Biltmore, Phoenix

Like the Broadmoor, the Arizona Biltmore is proud of its history and its traditions. The hotel was built in 1929 by an architect-builder-entrepreneur Albert Chase McArthur who had worked with Frank Lloyd Wright. The master's influence is seen everywhere from the massive precast concrete blocks, a first- in the history of architecture, to Wright's characteristic geometric patterns and use of desert colors, apparently inspired by desert flowers in bloom after a sudden rain.

When McArthur built his 200-room hotel in 1929, Phoenix was tiny town of 18,000 people eight miles distant.

No expense was spared. The landscaping was more lush than ever planted before in any desert location, the roofs were of Arizona copper and everything that looked like gold was gold -- the hotel had the largest gold leaf ceiling in the world. The hotel truly was a glittering "jewel in the desert" and a brilliant future was predicted.

A few months later the stock market crashed. The Great Depression came to America. McArthur could not have chosen a worse time to enter the hotel business. He went out as quickly as he’d come in.

The hotel was sold to the Chicago chewing gum magnate, William Wrigley, who operated it as his plaything for 44 years, never really making a profit  but regarding it as something to amuse acid entertain his friends. "Chicago West," they called it and the public rooms rang with talk of the Chicago railroads, the stock market, and the cattle yards.

Wrigley poured a lot of money into his toy. He went to Catalina Island once looking for special tiles for his swimming pool. He liked the tiles so much he bought tile company. He must have liked the island too, because he bought that also.

In 1973 the Wrigleys sold the hotel to Talley Industries who took advantage of the closed summer season to upgrade the fire protection. Ironically a welding torch set fire to insulation below the roof. The resultant conflagration destroyed the entire fourth floor and damaged so much of the hotel that the Arizona Biltmore had to be extensively repaired and refurbished.

Out of those ashes in Phoenix arose, like the proverbial bird, a better than ever hotel. There were additions in 1975. Two years later the hotel was sold. Two other wings were built then the original cottages on the estate were refurbished in 1983 by the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation.

There have been a few changes in little Phoenix since 1929 -- the city is now the fifth largest in the United States. The hotel faces stiff competition because three of the other dozen 5 star resorts in the United States lie at its doorstep.

Biltmore offers two 18-hole PGA-rated championship golf courses, 17 lighted tennis courts, 3 swimming pools and two therapy pools. Volleyball courts, jogging, biking and hiking paths attract the youngsters, and shuffleboard and chess courts, croquet lawns and putting greens bring out the older age group who even have an Executive Health Center.

The hotel is spacious. It has a nostalgia big-band era Art Deco ambience to it. During prohibition, guests would sneak into the men's smoke room to enjoy something better than cigars. Children were advised to stay away with the warning "This room is haunted!" The hotel grounds are especially lovely. Originally the Biltmore owned 1200 acres, but the Wrigleys donated 800 acres to Phoenix for a park. The hotel's present 39 acres are landscaped with Brazilian nut trees', citrus and other drought-resistant trees. The gardens are a haven for sparrows, blue jays and humming birds. Twenty-five ground keepers maintain this desert property. In a place of hot sidewalks their attitude to guests has been for years: "Please walk on the grass".

Here as in all great hotels the guest is supreme. One couple came every year for 54 years, and even attended social gatherings for management. Others have come for treasured briefer moments. Nancy and Ronald Reagan spent their honeymoon at the Biltmore ore and Chief Justice Sandra Day O'Connor was married here. In former days, Clark Gable cane regularly. His love of horses made it difficult for the stable master, "Doc" Hardy, who knowing that Gable didn't like fast horses used to borrow a special Tennessee walking horse from another farm. However, every time Gable arrived at short notice poor Hardy had to fly like the wind to pick up the horse unobtrusively so Gable wouldn't know it wasn’t a regular Biltmore one.

Hotel Bel Air, Beverly Hills

If ghosts of departed show business personalities flit occasionally through the grounds of the Arizona Biltmore, they sojourn permanently at the Hotel Bel Air in Beverly Hills, California.

Build an exquisite 66 room hotel tucked into lush gardens in a hidden canyon a few miles from Hollywood; give it individual patios, private suites and side entrances where quests can slip in without registering at the front desk, offer 24 hour room service, exceptional cuisine and a substantial wine cellar, then wait: the stars of Movieland and tycoons of the West will take to it with a delight bordering on passion.

For those people it was almost too discrete to be true.

The hotel remained unbelievably mindful of their needs for privacy. it became an oasis of those who eschewed the ostentation of Hollywood. Here they could be treated royally but as confidentially as if they were at home.

"But this is home," said Berman Beriker, the then managing director, leaning back in his leather chair. This is my home -- I1 even feel I own it."

Swiss trained, he brought a European flair to the hotel. He tried to welcome his quests personally, often giving then a tour of the hotel to see if they'd prefer a different room next time. If so, they'd have to book in plenty of time because the hotel, although expanded to more rooms, was almost always full.

Asked why the hotel is so popular, Beriker replied, "As always, it's service. Our guests can get anything they want, even if it's 4 o'clock in the morning."

The service is, of course, impressive but it's delivered with a willing cheerfulness that's sometimes hard to find in New York City or Miami Beach even in the best of hotels. The Bel Air, however, has other things going for it.

First, the location is incredibly convenient: about two miles off Interstate state 405 and one mile from Sunset Boulevard and Rodeo Drive.

Second, the layout is impeccable: eleven acres of a former stables and riding ring, it's now as beautifully landscaped as any botanical garden. Never ending flower beds compete with hibiscus, gardenia and bougainvillea, with date, fig, palm and redwood trees, and the Bel Air's famous floss silk tree to make the grounds the perfect complement to the rooms. The hotel was completely refurbished at the time of the Los Angelus Olympic Games at a cost of six million dollars. This was not a worrying sum tot the owners to come up with: the hotel was operated then as were other luxury hotels in Dallas, Houston and Hawaii by the trust fund of Caroline Hunt Schoellkopf. Named by Forbes magazine as the second richest woman in America, Caroline apparently trailed her older sister, Margaret, both daughters of the late, legendary H. L. Hunt.

The third great asset of the Bel Air was that essentially it imposed no rules or regulations upon its guests. Said Beriker,

"We know they're happy when they come. And we want them to be as happy when they leave."