If you stood on Wilshire Boulevard back in 1921, you wouldn't see the glass towers or the snarling traffic of modern K-Town. You'd see bean fields. Just acres and acres of legumes. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles rose out of the dirt like a Mediterranean mirage. It wasn't just a place to sleep; it was a 23-acre statement of intent.
It's gone now. Mostly.
Today, a massive school complex sits where legends once stumbled out of the Cocoanut Grove at 3:00 AM. But the story of the Ambassador is basically the story of Los Angeles itself—glamour, reinvention, and a sudden, violent tragedy that changed the city’s DNA forever. Honestly, it’s a bit weird how we just tore it down.
A Nightclub Built from Leftover Movie Props
Most people know about the Cocoanut Grove. It was the "it" spot for decades. But here’s the kicker: the famous artificial palm trees that lined the club were actually recycled props from the 1921 silent film The Sheik. They even had mechanical monkeys hanging from the fronds.
It sounds tacky. It probably was tacky. But when you’ve got Joan Crawford winning Charleston contests on the dance floor and Bing Crosby starting his career at the mic, tacky becomes "iconic."
The Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles was the undisputed center of the Hollywood universe before the industry migrated further west to Beverly Hills. We're talking about a venue that hosted six Academy Awards ceremonies. In 1940, Hattie McDaniel sat at a segregated table at the back of this very hotel before becoming the first Black person to win an Oscar. That’s the thing about the Ambassador—it held the highest highs and some pretty uncomfortable truths of the era all at once.
💡 You might also like: Tiempo en East Hampton NY: What the Forecast Won't Tell You About Your Trip
Every President and a Whole Lot of Monkeys
Between 1921 and its slow decline, every U.S. President from Herbert Hoover to Richard Nixon stayed there. Nixon actually wrote his famous "Checkers Speech" while holed up in one of the rooms in 1952.
It wasn't just suits and ties, though.
The Barrymore brothers, John and Lionel, used to let their pet monkeys loose in the Cocoanut Grove to swing on those fake palm trees. You could be sitting there having a drink and literally get pelted by a primate. It was a wilder time. The hotel had its own bowling alley, a plastic surgery clinic (because, Hollywood), and dozens of high-end shops. It was a city within a city.
The Night Everything Broke
You can't talk about the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles without talking about June 5, 1968.
Senator Robert F. Kennedy had just finished his victory speech after winning the California Democratic primary. He was the frontrunner. The energy in the Embassy Ballroom was electric. To save time and avoid the crush of the crowd, he was led through the kitchen pantry.
📖 Related: Finding Your Way: What the Lake Placid Town Map Doesn’t Tell You
That’s where Sirhan Sirhan was waiting.
The shots fired in that narrow, greasy hallway didn't just kill a candidate; they killed the hotel. A teenage busboy named Juan Romero held Kennedy’s head on the cold concrete floor, a rosary tucked into the Senator's hand. It’s one of the most haunting images in American history. After that night, the glamour felt... off. People didn't want to party where a tragedy that significant had occurred.
The hotel lingered for twenty more years, but it was a ghost of itself. By the 80s, the surrounding neighborhood had changed. The wealthy guests moved to the Bel-Air or the Beverly Hills Hotel. The Ambassador became a popular filming location—you’ve seen it in The Graduate, Pretty Woman, and Forrest Gump—but as a hotel, it was done.
The $578 Million Aftermath
The battle to save the building was a mess. The Los Angeles Conservancy fought tooth and nail. Donald Trump even bought the property at one point, wanting to build a 125-story skyscraper that would have been the tallest in the world.
In the end, the Los Angeles Unified School District (LAUSD) won.
👉 See also: Why Presidio La Bahia Goliad Is The Most Intense History Trip In Texas
They demolished the main tower in 2005. It was heartbreaking for preservationists. However, what stands there now is the Robert F. Kennedy Community Schools. It cost about $578 million, making it the most expensive public school complex in U.S. history at the time.
They did keep some bits and pieces. The school’s library is built where the Cocoanut Grove used to be. The classic pylon sign on Wilshire was reconstructed. There’s a park dedicated to RFK. It’s a weird mix of a site of trauma and a place of education.
How to Connect with the History Today
If you’re looking to find the "soul" of the old Ambassador, you can’t book a room, but you can still experience the footprint:
- Visit the RFK Community Schools: You can’t just wander into a school, but you can see the architecture from the street. The main building mimics the shape of the original hotel tower.
- The Cocoanut Grove Lives On: The school's auditorium (the Myron Hunt-designed space) was built to resemble the legendary nightclub.
- The Wilshire Pylon: Check out the Streamline Moderne pylon at the entrance. It’s a faithful recreation of the 1930s original.
- The Paul Williams Influence: Look for the influence of Paul R. Williams, the legendary Black architect who handled the hotel’s 1940s renovations. His "elegant luxury" style still echoes in the way the site is laid out.
The Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles serves as a reminder that nothing in this city is permanent. We build icons, we worship them, and then we pave over them to build something "useful." It’s a bit sad, honestly. But next time you’re driving down Wilshire, look at those school buildings and imagine the monkeys in the trees and the flashbulbs of the Oscars.
Next Steps for History Buffs:
- Visit the Academy Museum of Motion Pictures to see artifacts from the early Oscar ceremonies held at the Ambassador.
- Explore the Los Angeles Conservancy website for walking tours that cover the Mid-Wilshire area and the "Miracle Mile" history.
- Check out the photography of Maynard L. Parker, who captured the hotel’s interior during its 1950s peak.