Elevators have soared in the Capitol since the late 1800s. The first lift was placed in the Senate wing in 1873, but the House side didn’t raise the question of an elevator until 1880. As soon as the House started to consider a lift, the powerful House Appropriations Committee chair, Tennessee Representative John DeWitt Clinton Atkins, deemed it an unnecessary expenditure. Because the Capitol wasn’t designed for elevators, it would take significant structural changes and expense to retrofit the building.
In short order, multiple elevators were installed around the Capitol and a strict etiquette emerged. Operators guaranteed that the cars not only arrived at the correct floor and the doors opened, but also ensured that Representatives took precedence over the public, senior Members over junior Members, Senators over Representatives, and the President over all. Representatives and Senators rang a specific number of times to indicate their position. When they called, operators had to make sure the elevator zoomed to the correct floor, even if a member of the public was already waiting. The public could wait as long as a half hour for a turn. And on Senate elevators, Representatives had to sit tight. In 1902, Kansas Representative Charles Curtis called for an elevator on the Senate side of the Capitol. But Senators, who took priority, kept calling it away. The Congressman’s temper elevated, and he snapped at the operator: “If you were over on the House side, I would have you fired in five minutes.”
Elevators reflected the hierarchy of power in the Capitol by showing who got recognition and preference, but they also showed the power of machines over people—sometimes with fatal results. Riders regularly threw cigars, cigarettes, and trash down the shaft through grills. In 1900, a new elevator in the House wing suddenly stopped between two floors, leaving passengers to climb down to the basement by ladder. The repair crew found a small pocketknife wedged between the safety clamp and the steel rail, which abruptly stopped the car’s descent. In 1906, a woman was killed when she tried to exit a moving elevator in the Senate wing.
If elevators exposed the structure of power in the Capitol, these norms occasionally turned upside down. In 1914, a woman strode over to the elevator, ignoring the sign that read, “Exclusively for Members and the Press.” Flummoxed, the operator put out a hand to stop her. “But,” he whimpered, “the rules—” However, Dr. Mary Walker, women’s rights advocate, abolitionist, and Civil War surgeon, would not be held back. “Young man,” she replied, fixing him with a glare, “I’m about as near a United States senator as you want to see.” Stepping in, she commanded, “Up, young man!” and the elevator immediately lifted her to the galleries, leaving the rules below.
Learn more about Capitol elevator operators in the oral histories of Donnald K. Anderson and Benjamin C. West.
Sources: Chicago Daily Tribune, December 11, 1880 and January 10, 1933; Courier-Journal, March 30, 1906; Hartford Courant, January 10, 1933; Washington Post, December 11, 1880, December 25, 1900, April 16, 1902, December 21, 1906, March 6, 1914, June 20, 1971, and March 3, 2010; Report of the Architect of the Capitol, 74th Cong., 1st sess., 1935, S. Doc. 42, and 74th Cong., 2nd Session, 1936, S. Doc. 142.
This is part of a series of blog posts exploring the art and history of photographs from the House Collection.
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