Copyright © 2021 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett
A business can change in the blink of an eye, especially when there is a change in command. From Nov. 1921 to March 1922, the Toomey & Volland lost both of its founders; the death of each one was a surprise.
On Nov. 14, 1921, the “St. Louis Star” announced Hugo R. Volland’s passing. His obituary notice reported, “Hugo R. Volland, president and treasurer of the Toomey & Volland Scenic Company, died at his home, 5865 Enright avenue, at 4:40 a.m. today. Volland was a 33d honorary degree Mason. Two weeks ago he suffered a nervous collapse. He is survived by the widow, Mrs. Laura Volland, two sons, Louis J. and Victor, and a daughter, Rose. Keystone Lodge, of which he was a member, will be in charge of the funeral Wednesday, from the Scottish Rite Cathedral, Seventeenth and Locust street. It will be preceded by the Knights of Kadosh funeral service at the cathedral tomorrow midnight.”
On November 16, 1921, the “St. Louis Post-Dispatch” reported, “More than 1,000 persons last night witnessed the unusual midnight, or Kadosh, services of the Scottish Rite Masons over the body of Hugo R. Volland, 55 years old, scenic artist, thirty-third honorary degree Mason and Knight Templar, who died last Monday night at his home 5865 Enright avenue. The services took place in the Scottish Rite Cathedral, Seventeenth and Locust streets. The cathedral auditorium was packed to capacity by the time services began. Many persons, unable to obtain seats, found there was into the balcony. At 11:58 o’clock the lights in the auditorium gradually dimmed until the entirely extinguished, except nine candles placed at the head and foot of the bier. The coffin rested directly in front of an iron cross, behind which was the stage. The only remaining lights were in the choir loft, where red lamps burned for the singers. At midnight a deep booming gong, hidden behind curtains on the stage, sounded, and marked the entrance of the first of thirteen knights, each clad in black gown and hood and carrying a lighted candle. As each minute was marked on the gong a knight advanced until thirteen hooded men surrounded the coffin of their late brother. Silence Follows a Bugle Sound. As the last k night sounded from the gallery, and this was followed by a period of silence. Jesse N. Watson, commander, then recited services for the dead and called on the knights who might feel so deeply moved, to step forward and accuse the dead brother of any wrong done prior to his death. One by one three knights addressed the commander, who stood between the stage and the cross, and, in grave tones, declared themselves, were not perfect. Watson then grasped a small hammer and struck three times on the main shaft of the cross, uttering the words, “Then let the grave be ready to receive its dead.” Two knights stepped forward, lifted Volland’s sword from the lid of the casket, and removed the lid. During the ceremony a violin solo by Fred Sultan, accompanied by O. Wade Fallert, organist, was played softly. Two knights surrounding the bier were called upon to advance and relieve the body of ‘petty baubles and cords that bind the hands and his feet. This part of the service was explained, is symbolic of the soul taking flight to another world. At 1:35 a.m. the hooded knights advanced to the bier and, after dipping their fingers in pure water, touched the breast of the dead brother, at the same time pronouncing the farewell: ‘My brother, now thou art dead to this world and livest in the Lord.’ The choir then sang ‘Nearer, My God, to Thee,’ and the nights, extinguishing their candles departed from the auditorium.”
Six months later, on March 13, 1922, Volland’s business partner and friend also passed. On March 13, 1922, the “St. Louis Post-Dispatch” announced “P. J. Toomey, Pioneer Scenic Painter Dies.” The newspaper reported, “P. J. Toomey, 71 years old, one of the pioneer scenic painters of St. Louis, died suddenly at 10 a.m. yesterday as the result of an illness with which he was attacked while at mass in St. Roch’s Catholic Church. Rosedale and Waterman avenues. Physicians said death was due to cerebral hemorrhage. Worshipers sitting near Toomey said they did not observe anything unusual in his actions or appearance during the services, until he began breathing heavily and slumped forward in his seat. Several men who were sitting nearby carried him to one of the schoolrooms, next door, and a physician was summoned. Toomey’s son, Dr. Noxon Toomey, was sent for, but Toomey was dead when he arrived. The son said his father complained of feeling ill. Toomey painted the scenes for the first floats of a Veiled Prophet’s parade. He continued this sort of work for 25 years, giving it up recently, when a corporation formed to do the work took it over. He also did most of the painting for some of the old theaters in St. Louis, among them Pope’s, the Olympic and the Century. He at one time painted scenes for the Knickerbocker Theater, New York City. Toomey was one of the founders of the firm Toomey & Volland, scene painters 3127 Cass avenue. His first studio was opened in St. Louis in the Olympic Theatre Building, in 1867. The room in which this studio was located was destroyed recently. Funeral services will be held Wednesday at 9 a.m. at the Church of Our Lady of Lourdes, St. Louis County, Interment will follow in Calvary Cemetery. Toomey is survived by his widow, Mrs. Mary Vogt Toomey, and the son.”
The last line of Toomey’s obituary noted, “Hugo R Volland, the other member of the firm, died Nov. 14, following a paralytic strike.”
To be continued…
Wendy, I worked for the Muny Opera in St. Louis. The Muny started in 1917. I wonder if the painters from Toomey and Volland worked for the Muny during the summers?
I think that most of the scenic artists at this time worked for a variety of places, even when holding a studio position. In looking at the career of Thomas G. Moses, he was constantly working on other projects in off hours. I was intrigued when Toomey & Volland wanted him to work at their studio for a spell in 1923-1924.