Month: November 2005

Betty out-Foxed

November 7, 1947
Glendale

Waitress Betty Fox, 23, currently sharing digs at 1248 S. Boyington Ave., really needs an apartment–she can’t get married until she finds a place for she and hubby to canoodle. The grapevine hummed with news of a three-room flat a soldier was giving up as he entered service, so she tracked the new recruit down and asked if his place might still be available.

“Sure thing, toots, and if you gimme 48 bucks that’ll cover the first month’s rent.”

She ponied up in exchange for the key and address, and soon learned that there is no such number.

Sandwich of Mystery

November 6, 1947
Los Angeles

When asked why he had attempted to kidnap Celina Jarmillo, 18, as she was leaving work at 1427 E. Fourth Street, Raymond Adame, also 18, explained: “Last April she made me a sandwich of potatoes, beans and macaroni, and, according to our legends, she bewitched me. I couldn’t get out of her spell.” A later reports added fish eyes to the sandwich ingredients, and Farmer’s Market columnist Fred Beek suggested this might be a good addition to a meatless Tuesday menu.

In any case, Celina’s witchery must still have been working, because a radio car drove by just as Raymond tried to make the snatch. He’s down at Hollenbeck cooling his heels. Adame usually resides at 206 N. Clarence Street, Jarmillo at 5927 Fifth Ave.

Beware the Peril of Lunchtime

So let’s talk about the sandwich for a moment, that legacy of John Montagu, Fourth Earl of Sandwich, famously corrupt and inept Lord of the Royal Navy, and inveterate gambler who needed something quick to eat at the card table. The-you know. There’s just something wrong with this guy. There’s still a godforsaken island chain named after him that neither the Brits nor Argentines wanted in the Falkland War and kept insisting belonged to the other fellow.

And his namesake, well, it’s just evil. Consider our manwich post of 3 October. A battalion commander-guy who probably knows his way around a sword and stuff-guts himself in one of those sandwich-making-gone-horribly-wrong accidents. To recap:

The inside of Cmdr. George A. Tucker:

That pink thing, that’s his stomach. The little purple doodad to its right, that’s a spleen. I could see how one could stab both while making a ham sandwich. Common enough. But to get up under the sternum and get to the heart? That’s Montagu’s hand stabbing from the heart of hell, it is.

And now, some witch, using sandwitchery, has bedeviled poor Raymond Adame. The likely final destination of his abduction of the pernicious Celina was to her coven at Wilson Sandwich…

-by “modern equipment” they mean hi-tech new streamlined cauldrons-for only there could they release the spell. Or maybe he was off to stone her, as per Leviticus 20:27.

He attempted to abduct her from here:

The sandwich is a wicked and cursed thing (the words “Ahriman” and “Sandwich” are interchangeable in ancient Persian, btw), and must be banished beyond the walls of the City.


You are in my power.

Nickels for Knuckels

November 5, 1947
Los Angeles

While thieves are known for their light fingers, one of them is sporting especially heavy pockets after cleaning out a safe containing $666.25, $453.25 of it in 5 cent pieces, from the Automatic Beverage Corp. at 8739 Melrose Ave. In case you’re keeping count, that’s 9065 nickels–and there must be some sweet Buffalos in the bunch!

8739 Melrose, To-day

Durn fools probably spent their 1937D three-legged on a pack of gum.

As is the case with much if not most of West Hollywood, any structure tainted with the workingman’s touch has been thoroughly scrubbed and redesigned. Automatic Beverage became a fabric shop in the 60s and then received a full gutting and cosmetic makeover in 1999. The facade is now extra fancy-shmancy, so as to fit in with the regal neighborhood shops, which specialize in fancy, catering as they do to the shmancy.

Look Backward, Dear Reader

Of course, looking backward should be of little difficulty to the peruser of 1947project. Have just added a dozen follow-up posts throughout October-El Monte to Santa Monica to Compton and all points in between-thought your neighborhood would fall through the interstices of history? Think again! Click on “archives” to your right to shine the spotlight on hidden history and forgotten folly. (I mean, at least check out Augusta Mayo on October 16. Mmmm. Mmm-mm-MMM.)


We here at 1947project know that you have many fine news sources to turn to in this great city. We thank you again for your trust in us.

Typically it’s the bride who provides the trousseau

November 4, 1947
Burbank

Newlyweds Beverly Lou, 19, and Alvin Ray Turnmire, 21, were in custody today after Alvin got popped leaving a cafe at Screenland and Magnolia. Alvin said he was out looking for his lost dog, but officers found Beverly Lou napping a few blocks away in the family car, with Mike the dog keeping watch. In the glovebox, a .45.

A search of Beverly Lou’s parents’ house at 4232 Goodland Ave., Studio City, where the youngsters had been living since their marriage two months ago, revealed the spoils of half a dozen burglaries stashed in the garage: pretty much everything a couple of kids would need to start life in their own apartment.

Alvin, a plasterer and ex-Marine, confessed that he had stolen household goods from furniture stores, cafes and a model home, but insisted Beverly Lou believed he’d bought the items. Most of the loot was brought home by car, but for the fridge, enterprising Alvin used a trailer.

Further reading:

Tragedy on Elm Avenue

November 3, 1947
Long Beach

Fred and Mattie Friel were out at dinner in Long Beach on Sunday night when Mattie had a heart attack. She was rushed home to 319 Elm Ave., where her doctor, F.W. Kuhlmann prescribed bed rest. He left Fred watching over his wife.

When Dr. Kuhlmann went to check in on Mattie yesterday, there was no answer at the house. Concerned, he walked in and found Fred dead from a heart attack in the living room. Mattie was unconscious in bed. Taken to Community Hospital, her condition is listed as critical.

Mattie Friel is 58, her husband was 62.

Visit historic Long Beach in vintage postcards:

711 East 51st, To-day

I hope Bill Baker and pals appreciate the effort it took for their robbers to dress like police officers. Y’know, people just don’t put that sort of thought into their robbery outfits anymore, and we at 47p applaud these lucre-lifting louts for respecting their prey enough to put on a good show. (As Larry has pointed out in a previous post, you didn’t need a black-and-white to pull off convincing cop masquerade.) Perhaps, post Hallowe’en, these gents still had a few days’ rental on the outfits and figured they’d put ‘em to good use-besides, 2g’s in 47, adjusted via the consumer price index, would equal $16,484 today-not bad for a night’s work.