Category: nathan marsak

I Love a Parade…You Fools!

May 8, 1907
Los AngelesOne expects Fiesta-time to be fortuitous to the light-fingered gentry (e.g., V. S. Hawley had a $30 gold watch taken from his pocket; E. E. Leech was relieved of $7 while standing on Main Street watching the floats) but when goods are taken by the wagon-load, then we’ve got serious business afoot. No fewer than nine major break-ins were reported last night. The thieves in each case were evidently experienced operators, who feared little for being molested during their duties, especially given as in every instance the intrusion coincided with the Fiesta parades between 8pm and 12am. Further, the thieves had discriminating taste: at the home of S. H. Garrett, where entrance was gained through a rear window, purloiners went through the wardrobe and selected the finest of silk dresses and evening clothes to purloin; they even absconded with the better bedclothes. At 2629 Orchard Avenue, W. W. Taylor lost a gold watch, chain, necklace, and locket; at the same address Mrs. William Fleckenstein was relieved of her opera glasses and solid silver flask. Most astonishing was the haul from Mr. Nelson Douglas of 2500 Vermont Avenue, wherein unpacked suitcases belonging to his Shriner guests were lifted in toto. Watches, jewelry, money in the children’s bank; all are in the hands of Los Angeles’ dark and shadowy underworld this day.

They Ain’t Buying It

May 7, 1907
Los Angeles

Jesse C. Cowd, of 187 South Broadway, told cops he was shot in the groin in the rear toilet-room of the Southern Hotel saloon at Market and Main…when an unidentified stranger dropped a revolver and it discharged on the floor. Cops don’t buy the story–the trail of blood leads from the cigar stand in front of the saloon where there had been a quarrel over a dice game. Despite there having been a large crowd at the time, there were, of course, no witnesses.

And the Dog Came Back

May 7, 1907
Fullerton

Constable Edwards has a bulldog that his children have been playing with for two years. A neighbor’s child was over a few days ago and was bitten on the arm. Instead of taking responsibility for raising a beastly child that doesn’t know not to torment dogs, the evil neighbor requested of City officials that the dog be killed.

The City Marshall went to the home of Mr. Edwards and rightfully requested that Mr. Edwards be more careful with the dog in the future, while the neighbor still held that the dog be killed. The Marshall departed but the neighbor kept at it, and dog owner Edwards finally consented to have the dog murdered.

The neighbor walked the dog down the Fullerton railroad tracks and shot him. The dog rolled over and after a few minutes stopped kicking. The neighbor returned to town and reported that the deed was done.

That night in the Edwards home the mantle clock ticked in earnest in its dreadful march to midnight when, moments before it chimed twelve, there was a scraping at the door. Mrs. Edwards opened it. “Is this the ghost of the dog or am I dreaming,” she said to herself. Mr. Edwards rubbed his eyes and nearly toppled over as he joined his shocked wife in watching the dog crawl toward them–coming slowly forward–until as the dog shook his head a ball fell from his jaw. Mr. Edwards says the dog will live. Hopefully it will finish off that family next door.

Alcoholiquality During Fiesta

May 6, 1907
Los Angeles

The rough-necked gentry of the Seventh Ward are known for the signs in their saloon windows that read “No Colored Persons Served Here” or just “No coons wanted.” When the City Council decided to abolish race discrimination during Fiesta, the removal of these signs was of primary importance, so the powers that be got to work on the matter without the usual requisite public discussion. This made those in the bartending profession feel persecuted, and the number of these signs, especially in the many bars along East Main Street, greatly multiplied.

In response, black leaders began organizing “runs” on various white bars, wherein black patrons would mob selected establishments as an example and warning. One of our trademark race riots seemed imminent. Luckily, instead, black delegates from the Sixth and Seventh wards mobbed City Hall, where Mayor Harper and City Attorney pushed through an official legal ordinance banning race discrimination and making the signs unlawful.

Theaters, of course, remain segregated.

One Less Sailor in Pedro

May 6, 1907
San Pedro

The British bark Falls of Gary arrived in San Pedro tonight, 144 days from Antwerp, journeying around the Horn to bring a load of cement to Los Angeles. An uneventful journey, except that they arrived one man short. James Milligan, cook and steward, had been drinking heavily before the vessel set off. At one day out he was put to bed by shipmates and when sought again, had vanished. The disappearance is being considered a suicide.

Not a shocking story in and of itself–but one must wonder: cement? Had Los Angeles not evolved to the point of discovering the wonders of water mixed with gypsum? Granted, I love Hassids and Quentin Metsys and Belgian chocolate, but what makes Flemish cement so precious that it must be imported here on three-masted vessels flying the flag of Edward VII?

Of Human Bondage

May 5, 1907
Los AngelesMary Hawn is by all accounts an attractive twentysomething, average enough perhaps, save that she has a Superior Court case today. And she was bound and gagged in her bed by an intruder last night.”Being very much exhausted and having retired rather late, I fell into a sound sleep. When I can next remember I seemed to feel someone’s breath above my head. My mouth hurt me and someone was cramming it full. I opened my eyes and tried to move. Then I was frozen with horror. A masked man was leaning over me and was finishing the work of gagging me.

“Oh, it seemed for such a long time he bent foreward, gazing into my face. Then I tried to move and found my hands and feet bound together. After what seemed to me a long time, the man raised up and walked to the bureau. He searched it and then returned, he whispered that he would kill me if he did not find my papers before long. After making other threats at my life, he left.”

This occurred in her room at the Golden West Hotel, 412 South Main Street. Which Miss Hawn owns; she purchased the hotel from a Covina man in May of 1906. Little is known about their relationship, except that a) the hotelman died a short time later, and b) he left his life insurance to Miss Hawn, some one thousand dollars.

And the Superior Court case? The mysterious man’s widow is suing Miss Hawn for the insurance money. It is papers relating to this case that Miss Hawn alleges her visitor was after.

The Autoist: Our Modern Scofflaw

May 4, 1907
Los Angeles

Ten autoists were hauled into Police Court this morning for breaking speed ordinances, and another two were in attendance for having failed to place rear lights on their machines. All were fined fifteen dollars apiece.

The police assure more arrests of these auto men will follow.

In a Lonely Place

May 4, 1907
Riverside

Jesus Chavez was traveling from his home in El Monte to Colton, where he intended to celebrate Cinco de Mayo. During the trip Chavez was under the intoxicating influence of liquor continuously, and for reasons unknown shot and killed one Veranze Mansibai on a lonely road near West Riverside.

Chavez went into hiding, but Sheriff Wilson and Under Sheriff Evans eventually encountered his spring wagon. A little further on they found the white and bay horses he was driving. And a little after that, the tiny cabin in which Chavez was tightly holed up, continuing his alcoholiday.

There is little hope Chavez will be able to answer to the charges before the effects of his spree wear off.

Mayor Harper Likes to Watch Young Girls — Hurdle Tombstones!

May 3, 1907
Los Angeles

The old cemetery adjacent to Los Angeles High School was a lonely and forlorn place, until a throng of young ladies from the HS girls’ track team made it their training quarters. The fair hurdlers and sprinters had important dates upcoming, and the disused graveyard was the only place they could practice–until the grizzled old caretaker descended on the girls as they footed it in and out among the memorials. He was responsible to the Mayor for the condition of the place, he told them, and if he let girls practice there, then boys would come ’round, and if boys came ’round, then the peace of the place would forever be destroyed. So the girls would have to go, he insisted.

Naturally, wind of this got to Mayor Harper, who disclaimed all complicity with the cruel edict, and went on to state that he likes to see girls leap over monuments and generally make the place lively. “Why, it’s good for them. Let the girls hop over tombstones if they want to. I like to have them,” said Mayor Harper. “If the girls are anything like they used to be they’re welcome to all the room they want.” Harper even went so far as to flourish the official pen and scribble out a permit allowing the girls to roam at will in the old Los Angeles cemetery adjoining the High School building, provided they did not desecrate any graves.

And that, children, is how young girls in the bloom of youth, their airy flights and frolics so delightful to the eye, got their graveyard privileges restored.

Eye of a Needle

May 2, 1907
Los Angeles

Wealthy real estate mogul Russel C. Carter, 939 Denver Avenue, was at 74 in the winter of his years, though comfortably retired. Despite his vast holdings he brooded over ailments real and imagined and obsessed over the idea he would become helpless, an issue he confided only to his son, Spring Street haberdasher Norman Carter.

So, when his wife left the house to-day to go about her day’s business, R. C. barricaded himself in the barn, secured a rope to both a beam and his neck, and leaped off a stairway. When Mrs. Carter returned at 6:30, the patriarch nowhere to be found, neighbors were enlisted to break down the barn door, where she found her husband still swinging.

She was prostrated with grief and is now under the care of physicians at son Norman’s home at 3616 Flower Street.

While there is much to say about the moneyed class and their admirable relationship to self-determination, this writer merely wishes to send his condolences to the family of an Angeleno with vision.