1947 Project

Hooray for Hollywood!

Rose Host Headline

July 2, 1927
Hollywood

“Hitch your wagon to a star.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson Rose Host

A blue-bound copy of Emerson’s essays, 50 cents, and the clothes on her back were all that Miss Rose Host had with her when she stowed away aboard the Panama Pacific liner “Manchuria” bound for Los Angeles. If Capt. William J. Munroe hadn’t been so understanding and hadn’t allowed her to earn her passage by stamping passenger forms for the ship’s purser Leo Gallagher, she may never have made it.

Rose’s picture appeared today in the Los Angeles Times accompanied by a story about her Hollywood dreams of gold and fame. A beauty contest winner in her home state of New York, Rose believes that a successful career in tinsel town is within her grasp.

Fast forward six months. Rose landed a bit part in the film “Shootin’ Irons” with Jack Rose and Jack Luden. See – that’s Rose in the photograph, nothing more than a silhouette. Her part was so small she wasn’t even mentioned in the credits, and her Hollywood dreams ended with one picture. Rose Host the actress was not heard from again.

Maybe she became an English professor, sharing her love of Emerson with idealistic undergraduates. Let’s hope so, because when a Hollywood dream becomes a nightmare you have Jack Luden’s story.

Jack and Rose were both in their 20s when they made “Shootin’ Irons” together. Jack was an heir to the Luden’s cough drop fortune, but he was young and it was Hollywood so he tried his hand at acting. He was a handsome guy and Paramount planned to feature him in westerns as they’d done with Gary Cooper. Unfortunately for Jack, “Shootin’ Irons” wasn’t a success and by 1930 the studio had either dropped him or he’d walked away from his contract to pursue a life as a junkie.

How he spent the years between 1930 and 1936 remains something of a mystery, but by the 1940s the thrice married Luden had a monkey on his back the size of Cheeta on steroids. He drifted in and out of the movie business – and trouble, for the next decade.

During those six lost years Jack evidently acquired a taste for the seamy side of life. Busted several times for shoplifting to support his heroin habit, he was known to have said "a crooked buck is sweeter than an honest dollar." Jack, it seems, was an unrepentant sinner.

Finally in 1951 he was sent to San Quentin for drug possession and passing bad checks. Nine months into his sentence Jack dropped dead of a heart attack. He was 49.

“Come on and try your luck
You could be Donald Duck
Hooray for Hollywood!”
— Johnny Mercer

Eight Arms to Hold You

octopus July 1, 1927
Newport Beach

Readers should remember our last post about beasts from the international waters of terror—and now comes the tale of the thrilling night battle between one Captain Ole Ellasen and his truck-sized, razor-beaked, toxin-injecting foe.

Ellasen has been contracted to remove the wreck of the Muriel from the Newport Beach channel, and as such was diving to inspect the underwater ruin, when something brushed his side. It was the besucker’d arm of a mighty fire-eyed cephalopod, turning red with anger as it thundered “Who dare invade my domain?!” Fortunately Ellasen had carried a crow bar down to the wreck and freed himself repeatedly from the demon’s circling tentacles; the crowbar proving useful in finally besting the beast in fight and killing his vicious attacker.

Ellasen brought the marine monster to the surface, then descended to kill and extract five baby octopi. Hundreds of people arrived to view the octocorpse; Ellasen declared magnanimously that he expected another battle under water, as he was convinced another octopus lurked beneath.

(Truth be told, this writer has no love for crowbar-wielding killers of mothers protecting their young, and hopes Mr. Widower Mollusca turns Ellasen into one of those creepy sea-ghosts.)

themurielgoesdown

Above: the final voyage of the Muriel?

fightintheocto

Ellasen at his return battle, left.

(For this and more jaw-dropping octomazement than you can shake a machete at, go here. )

The Mad Gasser of Fullerton Strikes Again!

inceheadline

June 30, 1927
Fullerton

Two members of the Ralph Ince Film Company returned to the California Hotel in Fullerton ’round midnight tonight to find their fearless leader, Ralph Ince, semiconscious and supine upon the floor. Nipping the ol”™ Hollywood joy juice down in Valenciaville, eh, Ralphie?

califhotelpic Why, no! He”™s been the victim of the Mad Gasser of Fullerton! Hotel resident Carl Breusch said he’d seen a man skulking about the corridor, carrying a can, and that said can-carrier leapt out of a window when approached. Guests Charles Scott and Charles McMaster were awakened in their respective bedrooms by the odor of the anesthetic solvent and then espied through their windows a shadowy figure running down the street.

Though the papers reported Alois Sabinski’s recent battle with chloroform in his Nicholas Street home, California Hotel lessee Ellen Lincoln declared she’d heard nothing about any “chloroform burglar;” Fullerton Chief of Police T. K. Winter said, ahem, reports regarding any such character have been greatly exaggerated.

In any event, Ince has departed for his company”™s location in Santa Ana Canyon, and can not be reached for comment.

ince

Once There was Sight

Now, I’ve no particular illusions about India, commonly considered that ground zero of spirituality and holiness—it is, after all, both our fastest growing contributor to atmospheric carbon emissions, and our undisputed global king of human trafficking—but would I, in 1927, have dubbed them heathens? I think not.

heathens

Now in Phantomscreen

June 29, 1927
near Cordova, Alaska

Hollywood death came to the far north today, in the loss of stuntman Ray Thompson, 29, a player in a white water rapids stunt gone wrong on the roaring Copper River in remote Abercrombie Canyon. Thompson was on location for the new M-G-M picture Trail of ’98, starring the fiery Dolores del Rio, under the direction of assistant director Harry Schenck. Numerous small boats were in the stream packed with stuntmen and cameramen shooting a thrilling scene of Gold Rush-era peril, when Thompson and F.H. Daughters of Spokane fell into the water. Joseph Bautin of Juneau jumped in to try to save the men, and joined them in death; his was the only body recovered. Also in the water that day, stunt man Gordon Craveth, who managed to swim to shore.

Motion Picture News previewed the film and its innovative projection technique, but made no mention of the blood shed in its production:

"A big picture, easily of roadshow size, and big because of spectacular sequences this is our opinion on The Trail of ’98, directed by Clarence Brown for M-G-M. More pointedly, it is a presentation of the right sort, by which we mean that the presentation is the picture itself, through the "Fantomscreen," of which more later.

As to the artistic greatness of The Trail of ’98, we don’t know. Who does? But big at the box-office it will certainly be, unless we miss our guess.

The story is the Klondike Gold Rush, and is of epic dimensions. The cast- Dolores del Rio, Ralph Forbes, Tully Marshall, Karl Dane, Harry Carey, George Cooper, and others- is, excellent, with Carey in the forefront as to honors, and Dane and Cooper mostly carrying the

The frenzied rush to the Klondike from all corners of America, and what happened to the individual in his or her fight against the perils of the North, form the story background.

The handling of the characters in this screen version of the Robert W. Service story is dwarfed by the spectacular features. These are four in number: a breath-taking snowslide; the running of the rapids in frail boats; the Chilkoot Pass stuff, with big panorama shots; and the burning of Dawson City.

For the snowshoe sequence, the screen is suddenly enlarged to twice normal size, and moved down to the curtain-line. The effect is, of course, electrifying and carries a big punch. The same method is used with the running of the rapids, a remarkable spectacle. The "Fantomscreen" device, which moves the screen forward or back without interrupting the picture, is a great piece of show manship.

The picture will be roadshowed by J.J. McCarthy, who handled the six great roadshows of the industry’s history: The Birth of A Nation, Way Down East, The Ten Commandments, The Covered Wagon, The Big Parade, Ben Hur."

The Mad Gasser of… Fullerton?

June 28, 1927
Fullerton

Scholars of the unexplained in America will be familiar with the legend of the Mad Gasser of Mattoon, a possibly imaginary figure who gassed his way across two communities over a decade and thence into the spooky books.

But we’ve found a precedent in the Los Angeles area that beats the first Mad Gasser attacks by six years! This very evening, garage operator Alois Sabinski was asleep in his home at 111 North Nicholas Street when his wife was roused by the distinctive odor of chloroform, and discovered her husband in a swoon. The clever lady threw open all the windows to disperse the poison before she too was rendered insensible, and peeked outside to see a man running away carrying what looked like a bicycle pump. A bicycle pump of doom!

Officer Roy Mills, called to the scene, found footprints under the window and on the porch, and evidence that the gasser had launched his fumes through the open transom. So close those transoms, kids, and beware strange men bearing pumps.

A Short Film About Scoops Gelato

Gentle reader,

If you’ve ridden the Crime Bus in LA, you’ve probably enjoyed Tai Kim’s
extraordinary themed gelato creations, such as Guinness Tiramisu, Bacon Caramel, Black Dahlia, Nicotine and so many more.

Now there is a short film being made about Tai and the Scoops community, and the filmmakers are looking for people to interview. If interested, please visit the film website and fill out their questionnaire.

The Long Distance Murder

At 1681 E. Manchester Ave., the tenants were lousy and business was bad. But George H. Ferlin of 8606 Hickory St. had insurance and a scheme to make all his problems go up in smoke. One night in August 1925, Ferlin doused everything in gasoline and vacated the premises. Later in the evening his accomplice, 21-year-old Walter Skala, arrived on the scene, ignited the whole mess, and was burned to death for a payoff that probably amounted to a few hundred lousy dollars.

Was it murder? Some folks thought so. In addition to charges for arson and destroying insured property, Ferlin was charged with the murder of Walter Skala, despite the fact that he wished him no harm and was over a mile away at the time Skala sustained his injuries. The charge was issued under an old and little-used California statute that held a person who conspired to commit an unlawful act responsible if another person was indirectly killed as a result of that crime.

At Ferlin’s trial, the judge instructed the jury to deliberate only on the two lesser charges and acquit on murder. However, the jury ignored him roundly, saying they felt Ferlin was "morally guilty" in Skala’s death and convicted him of murder. Of course, there were appeals at the District and State level that dragged on for over two years while Ferlin sat in prison.

Meanwhile, there was trouble at home. Ferlin’s wife, Jean, and her lover, Ivan Hunsacker, appeared in juvenile court on charges of contributing to the delinquency of two minors, Jean’s children. Apparently, since Ferlin was locked away, Hunsacker had been shacking up with Jean and the kiddies. The couple pled guilty to the charges.

In March 1927, the State Supreme Court announced that Ferlin’s appeal would be heard, along with three other notorious murder cases. Faithful 1947project readers will be interested to know that Earl J. Clark, aka the Red Rose Killer, was alongside Ferlin on the docket. Clark would hang at San Quentin later in the year, but things went better for our arsonist.

Today, the court ruled that Ferlin was entitled to a new trial on the murder charge since the jury had disregarded the instructions of the trial judge. Ferlin’s sentence of 25 years for his other convictions was upheld. The murder beef was eventually dismissed in 1928.

I just chopped up someone shaped like a cookie…

Presented for your consideration, a recently unearthed example of the kind of disgusting collaborative work that Kim and Nathan did when they didn’t have laptops at their disposal… a little tidbit we titled "Pee-Nuts." Click to see this mid ’90s artifact in all its grim beauty, or don’t.

A Woman of Many Names-And Almost A New Face

June 26, 2007
Los Angeles

O! What a tangled web some weave when first they practice to deceive their spouses. A few days ago, Theodore A. Kocotis returned home to an empty house—his wife, Carrie, was missing. Five long days later, there came a telephone call: Carrie Kocotis was desperately ill in a Santa Monica sanatorium, the result of a “face-lifting” operation. Kocotis made haste, but his wife died before he arrived.

The grieving widower hired Attorney Earl S. Wakeman to start probate proceedings. But instead of a few pennies’ worth of pin money squirreled away here and there, Wakeman discovered $10,000 in chattel (almost $120,000 in 2007 dollars). And then there were the aliases. As Carrie L. Brody, Mrs. Kocotis acted as a housemother in a sorority; she conducted other business under the names of Carrie Sullivan and Carrie L. Williams. Her safety deposit box was rented in the name of Carrie Wright, and it was there she stored her jewels and securities.

Wakeman announced today that he intends to see that the events surrounding Mrs. Kocotis’s untimely demise are fully investigated by the District Attorney.