Al Beadle, Great American Architect

Frank Lloyd Wright wasn't the only great American architect to discover and embrace the Sonoran Desert surrounding Phoenix, Arizona. Alfred Newman Beadle was an architect who brought the International Style of architecture to the desert. His elegant, sophisticated designs were beautifully suited to the desert landscape-- steel and glass sculptures like precious jewels scattered in the desert. I discovered Mr. Beadle's extraordinary work just before his death in 1998 on one of my frequent visits to Phoenix. As I snapped away at a house I discovered somewhere in the Biltmore corridor of Phoenix, a neighbor approached me. We chatted and he shared the name of the designer of the house I was photographing. A studio that Beadle built on a large parcel for he and his family, it was eventually subdivided and became a single family home on its own parcel. The friendly neighbor told me that Beadle had moved North with his wife to the quiet enclave of Carefree. As I had hoped to someday build my own small, flat roof, contemporary home, I was excited at the prospect of having someone like Mr. Beadle design a home for me in Connecticut. I located his phone number through information and placed a call from my hotel. Mrs. Beadle answered, explaining that she would give Mr. Beadle my message when he returned home. I should explain that although I was very interested in Mr. Beadle's work from the one house I had viewed, I had no idea whatsoever of his highly respected position in the Phoenix architecture community, nor of his prolific contributions to the art form. Beadle's structures were true works of art with a complete and thorough understanding of materials, construction & engineering concepts as well as purely perfect design. I would learn that the man behind the drafting table was as intense as the energy he transformed to blueprints. Later that evening the phone in my hotel room rang-- I answered "Hello" to which I heard, "BAGLEY?". I responded "Yes", to which the caller responded "BEADLE!". Gruff wouldn't nearly cover Mr. Beadle's conversational style-- I was on high alert with this larger-than-life character. I explained my situation, that I was in the process of buying a small piece of property from a family friend. I asked if I could drive by more of his residential work and perhaps discuss the possibility of engaging him in the design of my place in Connecticut. He seemed slightly intrigued-- perhaps he was thinking of one of his designs at home in the lush Connecticut countryside instead of the Arizona desert. As Mr. Beadle began giving me directions, "From Scottsdale Road, go West on Cheney..." was the route to his latest private residence perched on a cliff in exclusive Paradise Valley, I interrupted him to explain that I was from the East Coast and I had no idea of North, South, East, West directions without the aide a compass. He paused, then blurted: "If you get your lazy ass outta bed in the morning, you would see that the sun rises in the East and sets in the West". I was immediately, completely and thoroughly enamoured with this person. I laughed out loud, and so did Mr. Beadle. He then continued to give me directions, in his Western-culture style of North, South, East and West vernacular. I decided to buy a compass for the car in the morning. I thanked him and told him I would be in touch after my self guided tour. The next day was more than a single extraordinary discovery, it was startling discovery after discovery. I fell more in love with Beadle's work with every house, every angle, every fabulously stylized, signature stainless steel street number. Leaving for home the next day, I could only see a few homes on the long list Mr. Beadle so thoughtfully provided to me. Over the next few months back in Connecticut, my property purchase did not go as planned and my dream of a flat roof house designed by the fabulous Al Beadle temporally died. The following winter I picked-up once again where my tour of Beadle's residential work left off. Stalking a late 50's Beadle in North Phoenix just off Lincoln Drive, I parked the car and began snapping away. Unaware that the owners of the home were a mere few feet away on their patio, partially screened by a curving, corrugated steel wall and enjoying a glass of wine on that early Friday evening. Noticing me snapping away, they cordially asked if they could help me. I lied, saying I "thought" this looked like it could be a Beadle house. They confirmed that it in fact was, and invited me to their patio for a glass of wine. After a few moments I confessed that I knew their beautiful home was a Beadle house, because Al Beadle told me the location himself. I shared my discovery story of Al Beadle as they listened silently. I finished my story, saying that I looked forward to meeting him on this trip-- I hadn't called him yet but I hoped to set up an appointment with him. They both looked at each other as tears welled up in their eyes, then told me the very sad news. Alfred Newman Beadle had died suddenly only a month before. I joined them, crying for a man whom I had never met. Or had I? Yes I only spoke with him-- I had not seen his imposing frame clad in signature black clothing, but his larger-than-life spirit was heard loud and clear over the telephone through his commanding voice. Although I never physically met Al Beadle, I feel as though I knew him very well. Through his distinctive body of work that I instantly connected with-- his passionate art that made my heart race and goose bumps appear. Although Beadle will never design a home specifically for me, that's O.K. because everything he designed was for me-- and for everyone who is a sucker for a flat roof house and design that exemplifies the evolution of fine modern architecture in the purest International Style.

For more on the architecture of Alfred Beadle-- from his early residences to his later steel and glass work as well as his commercial and multi-family homes and the fabulous Safari Resort:

A thoughtfully written Wikipedia piece: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Al_Beadle

An interesting YouTube CAD video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8XHSpKr2fDc

A truly fine video biography was produced by Gnosis, LTD and is available on their website: http://www.gnosisltd.org/main/pg/10/

For information on everything Mid-Century Modern in the Phoenix area, including but not limited to Al Beadle, visit a site that's near and dear to my heart-- Modern Phoenix: http://www.modernphoenix.net/index.htm

We've All Done It-- And It Needs To Stop

Tonight I viewed the repeat broadcast of Oprah's program that featured the most horrific real life experiences. The first was a story about a Long Island family-- The Flynn's-- returning from a joyous wedding. It's honestly the most heart wrenching story I've ever heard. The limousine in which the parents, grandparents and two children were passengers as well as the chauffeur was hit head-on by a drunk driver speeding on the freeway-- in the wrong direction. The limousine looked as though it was bombed-- just destroyed. The driver-- Stanley Rabinowitz-- was killed instantly-- the loving father of 2 grown boys. The Flynn's were thrown violently, smashing into one another. Their beautiful daughter Katie was asleep in a seat, secured by a seat belt. However the belt, meant to keep her safe, (this is so difficult, so painful to write) severed her head. Her mother who survived the crash and was conscious, picked up her 7 year old daughter Katie's head. Mrs. Flynn left the twisted, crushed passenger compartment and sat at the side of the road, holding her daughter, cradling her head. As she shared on Oprah, "they" watched-- both she and Katie as emergency vehicles arrived and the chaos of the accident was unraveled by the police. Mrs. Flynn sat there for nearly an hour. The strength of this women and the love for her daughter -- to hold what she could-- the only remnants of Katie's physical being that remained, protecting her daughter even in death. The admiration I have for this mother, a person I've never met, is so powerful I wish her the spiritual power to continue living for her family that is still on this earth. This story is about the most powerful love I've ever witnessed. The horror, heartbreak, numbness--- there just are not words that can even begin to convey the look on this women's face as she answered questions not yet 2 years after this family's personal 9-11 occurred. A mother obviously still in shock. Their lives forever held hostage by that moment in time when someone drank 14 cocktails, got into his car and murdered two people. Katie's family now only goes through the motions of life because-- how on earth can someone even begin to pick up the pieces?

I haven't cried this much in a long time. I just wanted to reach out and embrace these people and somehow take their pain away. An impossible task-- their pain will last the rest of their lives. What I could do however, is share this story with those of you who may not have seen it. And urge you never to drink and drive-- even after only one drink-- EVER again. Many of us have driven when we shouldn't have. Sure, most people don't become reckless and irresponsible after a drink or two. God knows I become more paranoid than usual and drive at the speed limit and watch the center line to make sure I don't swerve. But guess what? Who knows how alcohol can effect us from time to time? Even if you're as careful as I've been, what if we just pass out? Not driving recklessly, speeding in the wrong direction, but simply fall asleep because perhaps we didn't remember that we took a cold tablet and the interaction caused us to drift off to sleep-- and drift off into the other lane? As innocent as that sounds, I would be just as negligent, irresponsible and murderous as the drunk driving the wrong way. It's a simple solution for me. I just won't ever drive again even after one drink. I can't. Not after seeing the pictures of that beautiful little girl hours earlier at the wedding in which she was the flower girl. The beautiful, smiling, joyous face. Only hours later, her mother cradled her daughter's beautiful head in her arms. Only her head. Because someone did not think the consequences through. Someone didn't take responsibility for themselves.

The drunk driver was convicted and sentenced to 18 years in prison. A sentence that he's now appealing. Can you imagine? Appealing. How can he think of living after what he's done??? THINK, dear friends-- THINK the next time you attend a function where you may have a drink. Just don't do it. Don't do it for little Katie as well as Stanley. And say a prayer for these families-- so somehow, someway, they set themselves free for Katie who is trying to help them from heaven. Trying to tell them that she is alright and helping God-- and they will all be reunited someday. That day all their pain will vanish and joy will once again fill their hearts.

Just a few years ago I lost a friend to a drunk driver. Dorothy and her sister were on their way to the airport to embark on their annual vacation to Hawaii. Much like the Flynn's and Mr. Ribinowitz's crash, they were hit head on my a drunk driver, killing my friend Dorothy, permanently injuring her sister, now confined to a rehabilitation facility for the rest of her life and killing their chauffeur as well. There are only a precious few left in our society who have not been touched by drunk driving tragedy. At this rate it's only a matter of time.

The sheriff of Maricopa County Arizona should be appointed Sheriff of the United States as far as I'm concerned. Sheriff Joe Arpaio has designed and implemented the toughest drunk driving laws in the country. When you're caught driving drunk-- even if it's the first offense-- you're the recipient of: a mandatory 10 day jail sentence, mandatory installation of the device in your vehicle that requires you to blow into it to start the car and several other penalties that cost both a lot of time and money. That's for a first offense and for blood alcohol levels not considered to be extreme. Subsequent offenses and recklessly high blood alcohol levels mean more prison time-- much more-- as well as license suspension, etc., etc. I say let's get Sheriff Joe on a tour bus so he can implement his life saving laws nationwide.