Recipe for Marital Success

January 30, 1947
Hollywood
Get miffy at tennis pro hubby when a lady tennis player calls to suggest they team up in a tournament match, cry as he splits for the L.A. Tennis Club, drink a shot of iodine, follow it up with an antidote of flour and eggs, then telephone sweetums to tell 'im what you've done. He'll race home and speed your upsy tummy to Hollywood Receiving Hospital for emergency treatment. Game, set and match to wifeypoo.

This is the scenario played out in the third week of marriage by tennis star Tom Falkenburg and his 21-year-old model bride, Bernice Allred Falkenberg, in their home at 523 N. Cahuenga. BTW, fellas, it's a big red flag when your sweetie doesn't just try to poison herself, but administers her own antidote!

Watch Tom's sister Jinx with Rita Hayworth in Cover Girl.

Save the 76 Ball!

We, the undersigned, as consumers with an abiding fondness for the striking, historic and uniquely Californian blue and orange ball-shaped Union 76 logo, be it on tall metal poles or car antennae (since 1967), hereby call on ConocoPhillips to reconsider their alteration of the 115-year-old brand, to cease replacing spherical blue and orange 76 balls at gas stations with flattened blue and red disks, and to restore the beloved spheres to the poles where they belong.

If ConocoPhillips does not demonstrate greater respect for the the history and goodwill associated with the blue and orange 76 ball, we will be taking our business to other gas sellers. This petition is being launched on January 31, six days after ConocoPhillips posted fourth quarterly earnings of $3.7 Billion, and we call for a sincere response to our concerns before the announcement of their next second quarterly earnings.

To sign the petition, click here.
To buy various antenna balls (but not for Union 76), click here.
or get vintage 76 antenna balls here.

Middy's Big Adventure

January 30, 1947
Venice

"Here, kitty kitty!" was the song of Millwood Avenue as the neighborhood joined in urging pussycat Middy to alight from her perch, 75 feet up in a palm near her home at number 750.

After six days, Middy's mistress Mrs. Don Bowser was at her wit's end, her throat raw and neck sore from craning. Although the fire department declined to assist, Boy Scouts from Venice Troop 75 milled around looking helpful. And perhaps the sight of all those little boys so plump and perfect for scratching did compel Middy to move, for suddenly the recalcitrant cat crashed down through the dry fronds, claws out and howling, and landed on the concrete below.

A neighbor reported that Middy had drunk a little milk, and would be examined by a vet because she'd shown signs of internal bleeding.

Did You Want A Fingertip With That Beer?

January 29, 1947
San Pedro

Daniel Baccarat, 50-year-old liquor store proprietor until recently serving customers at 211 W. Ninth Street is on the run after City Health Inspectors discovered that the possibly infectious leper was working with the public. An attorney who called the Health Department to inquire if a warrant had been issued for Baccarat's arrest rang off the line when asked if he represented the man or knew where he was hiding.

Baccarat first received treatment at the National Leprosarium in Carville, Louisiana in 1928, and in 1931 was discharged as an arrested case. But four years later, San Francisco physicians discovered his disease had recurred and he was forced into hospital treatment. When he volunteered to return to Carville, Baccarat was freed... and somehow turned up in San Pedro twelve years later.

If found, Baccarat will be taken to General Hospital to be examined by Leon Griest, Chief Quarantine Officer of the City Health Department, but he can only be shipped back to Louisiana if he agrees to go.

The Hotfoot That Slipped Through The Cracks

January 17, 1947
Downtown

Gentle readers,

In the excitement of leading the Crime Bus tour, we inadvertently neglected to blog one of the stories that, when first reading the 1947 papers with an eye to writing a book ten years ago, made it obvious that I'd stumbled onto a very interesting shadow L.A. And so we bring you, twelve days late, The Hotfoot That Slipped Through The Cracks.

Thomas Gant, 40, and Thurman Dawson, 27, were prank pals--acquaintances who took great pleasure in torturing each other with increasingly annoying shenanigans. For the past week their activities had been constant and aggressive, with the agonies of the hotfoot featuring prominently in each man's arsenal.

And so might it have continued, until all the shoes both owned were singed, but still wearable, had Dawson not been inspired to add a squirt of lighter fluid to yesterday's performance. Gant said, "Enough already" (after he shrieked like a girl), and sought the aid of the homicide cops near City Hall. They looked at his scorched shoe, laughed and wished him well in his endeavors.

Furious, Gant strode back to the hotel where he and Dawson lived, at 236 E. Second Street, and retrieved a gun. From there, he went to the cafe at 245 E. Second and found Dawson at his afternoon meal. Gant shot Dawson in the gut, killing him, and awaited the arrival of the homicide cops, who obliged by taking him more seriously this time around.

Zip Guns Aren't Just For Kids

January 28, 1947
Santa Monica

Jack Gillette, 68-year-old aircraft worker, was called into Judge Thurlow T. Taft's courtroom today to answer a charge of firing, without provocation, a miniature gun of his own manufacture at the lower body of Venice cabbie Jack Stewart, 29. The bullet, half the size of a .22, left a nasty bruise on the younger man's hip. Gillette declared that he had merely wanted to see if his invention worked. Judge Taft looked over the seven teeny guns that police had seized and set bail for the incorrigible oldster at $1000.

The Party's Over

January 27, 1947
Hollywood Hills

Harry Babasin, 25, was just sitting down to a chess game with William Haller, 24, when all heck broke loose. Sixteen State and L.A.P.D. Narcotics officers busted into the large home at 5751 Tuxedo Terrace and placed the whole joint under arrest. In addition to Babasin, a member of Benny Goodman's band, and Haller, late of Freddie Slack's outfit, this included Nelson Shelledy, 28, formerly of Charlie Barnett's orchestra, and Haller's lady friend Mrs. Bonaline Stewart, 30, a secretary.

Siezed in the raid was $500 worth of primo gage (aka maryjuana), of which Mrs. Stewart groused, "I'm just a victim of circumstance. I went there on a date with Bill Haller. I was downstairs when I heard all the commotion. What will my boss think, and my family?"

They'll think that you're an older woman who hangs around jazzbos, doll. And we at 47project think you're a-okay!

A Harborside Mystery

January 26, 1947Terminal Island

Grizzled mariners are baffled by the mysterious development of a perfect lover's knot in the anchor chain of the Navy oiler U.S.S. Caliente. When anchor was dropped in 9 fathoms of water, the chain hung perfectly straight--but when they went to move her into dry dock, the knot made it impossible to weigh anchor.

Sailors cut the knot with torches and moved the ship on her way. The mermaids giggled, and the gremlins guffawed.

Young Lovers in Albuquerque

January 25, 1947
Albuquerque, N.M.

Actor Dean Jagger, 42, proposed to his lady friend Gloria Joan Ling, 24, a Fortune mag staffer. She said yes.

Oh, joyful day! But when the Santa Monica registry office refused to issue a marriage license due to the bride's Chinese heritage, the couple had to roam as far east as Albuquerque, where a call from director King Vidor succeeded in urging clerk May Cleghorn to stay open late to issue the Jagger-Ling license. A handy justice of the peace performed the ceremony in the lobby of the Bernalillo County Clerk's office, and the happy kids were free to return to Tinseltown, married in the eyes of God and Albuquerque, but outsiders in their home.


See Dean Jagger and Robert Mitchum in 1947's Pursued.

Welcome, L.A. Times readers

It was our pleasure to host the Times' intrepid Cindy Chang on our Dahlia Day Crime Bus tour to sites macabre and fascinating. Her story is a terrific snapshot of the mood of the tour and our aims in writing the blog and dragging folks around the city.

We were thrilled to discover we could sell out two full sized tour busses with only minimal publicity on this and other blogs, and in the L.A. Alternative, and are already planning future Crime Bus and Crime Walk outings to introduce more retro gore hounds to the forgotten weirdness of our city. So sign up for the mailing list* if you'd like to be informed when reservations open for the next tour, and check out this podcast, a sampling of the Dahlia Day route. But be warned: there's a lot of humor, but it is not for the squeamish.

yours in darkest noir (with a cherry on top),
Kim

*AOL's browser does not recognize the sign up page. Please use another browser to join.

A Woman's Home Is A Dentist's Castle

January 24, 1947
West Hollywood

Two days after Eviction Day at the fabulous Mount Kalmia Castle, fancy flophouse at 8311 Sunset Blvd., the 38 hapless lodgers of ex-Follies star "Queen" Patricia Noblesse Hogan continue to hustle for new homes. Back in February, the grand, turreted residence overlooking the Sunset Strip was sold to dentist Manuel H. Haig at auction for $83,000, but Her Majesty had nimbly ignored every order to quit the premises.

Until four days ago, that is, when the Sheriff arrived with a twelve-hour notice to vacate, which was the first any of the tenants--from the $300 a month suite men to the gals who shared the basement barracks for $85/per--heard about the sale. 29 hours after the deadline, moving vans still crawled up and down the hill like ants, bearing away segments of the Queen's $300,000 trousseau, while the tenants sat glumly on hastily-packed trunks awaiting taxi cabs to who-knew-where. And on the driveway, Tootsie Berry, Hogan's daughter, tried to calm her boxers Major and Colonel. Tootsie wasn't worried; the Queen would always land on her feet.

1947project in the news

Tomorrow (Wednesday) night, Fox-11 News in Los Angeles features the 1947project Crime Bus Tour during the 10pm newscast. And on Thursday, pick up the L.A. Times Calendar section to read all about the Dahlia Day tour and the folks behind the blog and Crime Bus.

We anticipate a lot of interest in seats on future Crime Bus tours, so please remind your friends who are interested in riding to subscribe to our mailing list, so they'll be among the first to hear when a tour is announced.

yours noirishly,
Kim

...I Think I'm Sinking Down...

January 24, 1947
Chicago

Future singer-songwriter, and mythologizer of a uniquely seedy '70s noir L.A., Warren Zevon is born today.

A contemporary pop interlude from the editrix

Taking a momentary break from historic gore and wackiness, I'd like to extend an invitation to SoCal readers to join me at Book Soup on the Sunset Strip on Weds., February 8, at 7pm for a reading, book signing and q&a for my 33 1/3 book "Neutral Milk Hotel's 'In The Aeroplane Over The Sea.'" This is the oral history of a fascinating and influential psychedelic rock band of the nineties who spun out of a wonderful creative community called Elephant 6.

WHAT: Kim Cooper reads from Neutral Milk Hotel band bio
WHERE: Book Soup, 8818 Sunset Blvd., WeHo CA 90069. Free lot parking.
WHEN: Weds., February 8, 2006, 7:00pm

More info.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled noir.

Florence--change the locks!

January 23, 1947
Bell

Theodore K. Oakvid, now 64, was young and spry in November 1928, when he murdered his 12-year-old daughter Sophia with a hammer, then slashed his own throat in a failed suicide attempt. The victim was found by her brother Algird in her bedroom at 7026 Flora Avenue when he went to wake her up.

When revived, Oakvid explained that he had feared for the child's sanity, and had killed her because she would have been unable to navigate the rough waters of adulthood. But Algird told police that his father had first tried to kill Sophy when she was an infant, and over the years and his many comings and goings in the family had constantly harped on the inferiority of girl children.

Alienists declared Oakvid insane and shipped him off to Mendocino and Patton State Hospitals, from which he now re-emerges, having, it is said, been cured. He told reporters that it had been 14 years since he'd seen his wife or son, and that he reckoned he'd head out to San Berdoo to look up some relatives, among them Florence Powell.

And you think you've got neighbor troubles!

January 22, 1947
Los Angeles

18 months ago, the tensions between Mrs. Lillian Goldberg, 1921 Garth Ave., and Mrs. Martha Kelly, of 1917, exploded. For more than a year, the families had endured mutual accusations of destroyed fences, ripped up landscaping, tossed rocks and ill-aimed hoses.

Then, under the pretense of making peace, La Goldberg asked La Kelly over to meet a prospective buyer for the Goldberg manse, and share a pot of tea... but as they walked together to 1921, according to La Kelly, La Goldberg grabbed her around the throat and chortled "I've been wanting to do this for a long time!" Soon the two women were rolling around in the flower bed. The residents of Garth Ave., by now used to such hijinx, gathered around to watch the fun.

Then from the Goldberg house emerged a man dressed like a cowboy--actually R. G. Hampton, a private detective hired to stay in the home and observe such incidents--firing a gun and demanding the fighting stop or he'd shoot the combatants! Mrs. Goldberg was arrested for disturbing the peace, with Hampton charged for firing a gun within city limits.

During court time soon after the incident, La Kelly acknowledged that she washed her sidewalk whenever La Goldberg passed over it, telling neighbors that this was a necessary chore whenever "that dirty rat" passed by. But she refused to admit to throwing rocks at the Goldberg house, and painted herself as the innocent victim. This tone continued in today's court session, as she elaborated on the tale of assault, including the allegation that Goldberg's husband David and 16-year-old daughter Norma assisted in the beating.

Mrs. Goldberg is seeking $201,000 damages for malicious prosecution, while Mrs. Kelly considers her own damages worth a comparatively paltry $200,200. The trial continues tomorrow.

Loose Lips Sink Ships

January 21, 1947
San Pedro

When Jay Dee Chitwood fell in front of a truck near 203rd Street and Western Avenue in August 1944, the coroner thought he had a simple accidental death on his table. But look closer. Cause of death: punctured lung? Hardly a typical injury for someone hit by a car.

Only nobody did look closer until today, when officers picked up Mrs. Helen Chitwood, who had been yapping to a gentleman friend about how she'd stabbed her husband twice and watched him fall into the street, and the dopey cops never noticed the knife wounds. Detectives dropped by Helen's pad at 888 1/2 Hamilton Way to ask if that's how it happened. Sure, she told them, we had a fight and it happened just like that.

Mrs. Chitwood is cooling her heels in the San Pedro Jail, and the coroner has got some 'splaining to do.

The Strange End of Mr. and Mrs. Smith

January 20, 1947
Los Feliz

Everyone says Henry R. Smith, 20, was a different boy when he came home after his Navy service. Morose, nervous. Still, two months ago he was all smiles when he married Barbara Anne Chilton, 19. The newlyweds moved into Barbara's parents' home at 1612 Hillhurst. Chester Chilton is a building contractor, and Henry went to work as his assistant.

Last night the young couple was celebrating Barbara's return from a trip to San Francisco. They went out on the town with Chester, and returned to find the house thick with the smell of burning meat; a ham had been forgotten in the oven. (This would never have happened if the Mrs. were home, but she's in Detroit settling a family estate.)

Chester raced to the kitchen to deal with the mess, while Henry and Barbara retired to their bedroom. Half an hour later, a terrible boom split the evening's peace. Henry ran out into the hall, shotgun in hand, and cried "My God, Pop, kill me. I just shot Barbara!"

Chester passed his son-in-law and saw his daughter splayed out on the bedroom floor, shot through the eyes. Henry came up behind him. Chester wheeled and raced out of the house, thinking he had to call the police, get help, get away, do something...

Another shot rang out. Henry Smith had blown his brains out.

Held Up in Hollywood

January 19, 1947
Hollywood

Stepping from a restaurant at 7050 Hollywood Boulevard towards their parked car, Hollywood Roosevelt Orchestra leader Freddy Rhea, his contractor roommate David Picken and Bunny Gravert, songbird with Rhea's outfit, were robbed by a trio of trash-talkin' banditos who relieved both men of their watches and Rhea of $70 in cash and $2000 in checks. The lady escaped unmolested.

The Madwoman of South Gate

January 18, 1947
South Gate

Two years ago, when she was 20, Mrs. Elaine Chatt Shedden gave birth to her second son, Robert, and suffered a nervous breakdown. She was voluntarily committed to Camarillo State Hospital, and spent three months there. Her marriage fell apart, and Mr. Shedden moved to Chicago. Elaine and the children settled in with her parents at 9230 Virginia Ave. and for a while things weren't so bad.

Then they were. Mrs. Mabel Vanessa Winters Terwilliger, 46, lurched out into her yard, a knife wound in her back. Daughter Elaine came after her, and plunged the blade into Mabel's side. The older woman was D.O.A. on arrival at Maywood Hospital.

Elaine, weirdly calm as only the mad can be, had changed out of her bloody dress and sandals and was scrubbing her hands when Capt. T.R. Chase and Sgt. Joe Heymans arrived. Sure, she stabbed her mother. The woman had nagged her about doing the dishes, and was plotting with her brother Robert Winters to have her involuntarily committed to a state institution. "I just couldn't stand it," said Elaine.

The children witnessed the incident, and neighbors, hearing screams as Elaine chased her dying mother out of the house and 40 feet onto the drive, called police.

Memo to Burglars: Stay off Miz Jessie's Porch!

January 17, 1947
Los Angeles

Mrs. Jessie Founder, all 100 pounds and 64-years of her, betrayed bravery beyond her station when a would-be burglar was spotted on her back porch. Matthew R. Rudolph, 21, armed with a 2 x 4 and a bottle, grappled with Mr. Founder for the latter's gun, so Miz Jessie crept up behind the louse with a lead pipe and started swinging. Rudolph suffered head injuries and died hours later in the prison ward at County General.

The Founders live at 1750 E. 118th Street, ; before his head was caved in, Mr. Rudolph hung his hat at 1644 1/2 Palm Ave.

Abandoned Oil Fields Are Unhealthy For Children And Other Living Things

January 16, 1947
Banning Homes, San Pedro

After a lengthy search, the body of 4-year-old Bert F. Long was discovered yesterday in eight feet of water in an open sump hole in the oil field just half a mile east of the housing project where he lived with his parents and five-year-old brother.

It appears that Bert wandered out of his yard while his mother Ola May was at a dentist's appointment, and his grandmother was tending to brother Johnny, who was sick in bed. Local drugstore operator T. R. McQuigg reported seeing a child who matched Bert's description around 4pm Monday, but that was the last anyone saw of the child until two juvenile officers discovered the tiny floating corpse in the hole that had recently been drilled, but left uncovered, by oil line repairmen.

Come Ride the Crime Bus - SRO!

NEWSFLASH FRIDAY 1/13 9am: We have 2 last minute openings on the Sunday 1/15 Crime Bus. These are only available to on a first come first served basis to someone who checks their email frequently and can make immediate payment by paypal ($49.74) if told that the seats are being held for them today. Preference will be given to people who want both tickets as opposed to a single. Is this you? If so, email amscray@gmail.com promptly, and await further instructions.
***
We now sold out for both days of January's 1947project Crime Bus tour, but if you'd like to be on a future tour, please sign up for our mailing list.

On the Crime Bus, each $24 ticket entitles you to a guided 5-hour bus tour through fascinating and forgotten Los Angeles crime, social and architectural history-- including a thorough debunking of the Black Dahlia myth machine courtesy of BD researcher Larry Harnisch-- on the weekend of the 59th anniversary of Elizabeth Short's murder. You'll also get a CD of a rare 1950 Black Dahlia radio play, and a chance to connect with fellow LA history fiends.

Elizabeth Short, R.I.P.

born July 29, 1924
died January 14/15, 1947

The Case of the Dolt on the Bumper

January 12, 1947
Long Beach

Driving home to 1572 W. Seventh Street with his wife, Frank R. Cross heard a weird rattle in the car.

"Honey," said Frank, "You take the wheel, and I'm going to just hop up on the bumper and see if I can figure out what's going on."

"But Frank, I can't! You know I haven't driven a car in eight years!"

Frank insisted, and so they stopped, swapped, and hubby hopped up on the bumper... and promptly disappeared. Mrs. Cross heard a bump, but not a rattle, and drove on for a spell. Then she wondered if the bump might have been Frank, so she stopped--fortunately, since the bump named Frank was being dragged beneath her wheels.

Mr. Cross is in Seaside Hospital tonight with multiple injuries, his condition listed as satisfactory.

Snaring Pigeons in the Park

January 11, 1947
Santa Monica

The day began with two elderly men and a flock of pigeons, all enjoying the breeze in Ocean Park. It ended with one man in police custody and another dead on the sidewalk, a horrified widow and the pigeons frightened away. Madness, sleepy Santa Monica-style.

Harry Jacoby, 53, of 216 Ashland Ave. vehemently objected to 68-year-old watchman Charles LeRoy Bonner of 2829 1/2 Ocean Front's attempts to snare pigeons in the park. After it was all over, Bonner told police that the younger man had twice tried to start a fight over the snaring, knocking Bonner down and then smashing his glasses.

Finally, Bonner fought back, and the two men grappled across the sidewalk. They fell together, but only Bonner got up. Harry Jacoby was dead on the ground, and Charles Bonner taken into custody on suspicion of murder. Mrs. Jacoby became hysterical at the scene and had to be restrained. And above them all, the pigeons wheeled, now careless and oblivious to the tiny men below.

She Got A Bad Wrap

January 10, 1947
Los Angeles

Sylvia Blomier, 21-year-old gift wrapping clerk in a downtown department store, was ordered held for trial in Superior Court today on five counts of forging her customers' signatures on sales receipts.

The motive: acquiring fancy duds, to the tune of $1479 retail. Judge Edwin L. Jefferson ruled that the girl be held in County Jail, as she was unable to meet a $2000 bond.

Free drinks at Black Dahlia book event, Thursday night

We direct our readers to information on an event hosted by the LA Press Club in Hollywood on Thursday, a reading and reception for Donald H. Wolfe's new book The Black Dahlia Files: The Mob, the Mogul, and Murder that Transfixed Los Angeles (Regen Books). Entrance, parking and drinks are free.

The 1947project bloggers have not yet read Mr. Wolfe's book, but our Larry Harnisch has thoroughly examined the D.A.'s files that form the heart of Wolfe's thesis. He is concerned that there are numerous inconsistancies between the files he read and Wolfe's claims (see below). Still, it sounds like an entertaining night out in Miss Short's old stomping grounds, and we invite any reader who attends to post back in the comments about their experience.

Larry says: Having been through the D.A.’s files on the Dahlia case (I inventoried and indexed every scrap of paper) I can say definitively that Bugsy Siegel, Norman Chandler, Jack Dragna and Brenda Allen are never mentioned.

In fact, the D.A.’s files say 1) Elizabeth Short was not a prostitute and 2) she wasn’t in Los Angeles in 1944 or 1945. According to the D.A.’s files and everything else I have ever found, she arrived in late July or early August 1946.

I chatted with Wolfe while he was going through the files at the D.A.’s office so I know he had the opportunity to find those documents. He apparently just ignored them.

The D.A.’s files, incidentally, aren’t some neat archive. They’re papers that were saved when the D.A. was cleaning house and were just shoveled into boxes. Material from different cases is mixed up, including unlabeled photographs from other murders that got put into the Dahlia material–at least one turns up incorrectly identified in a certain “true” crime book.

Siegel’s voluminous FBI files are online at the bureau’s FOIA site. They are heavily censored but show he was under virtually constant surveillance from at least the middle of 1946. Agents saw him (and Virginia Hill) move out of the Chateau Marmont and into the house on Linden on Jan. 14, 1947, and files say he and Hill left for Palm Springs the next day. I refer specifically to FBI document 62-81518-406 and surrounding material.

I just got the book and haven’t read it yet as I’m getting ready for the Crime Bus tour this weekend, but anything that relies on “Severed,” which is 25% mistakes and 50% fiction, cannot be trusted. I’ll put on my waders and slog through this opus when I get a chance.

Larry Harnisch

While Mom and Pop Are Away

January 9, 1947
Los Angeles

A teenage party at 4156 Rosewood Ave. went terribly wrong tonight when 15-year-old Alan Jerome Gordon was accidentally shot by Edward Eisenhart, also 15, and Gordon's closest pal. It seems Loraine Collins, 14, brought her daddy's automatic pistol to Marcia Bronstein's soiree, and handed it over to Edward. Edward went to demonstrate the safety mechanism, after removing the clip, and squeezed off one unlucky bullet. "I'm shot through the heart," cried Alan, who died.

Police were called and got to hear a fanciful tale of a mysterious prowler who'd climbed through the window, killed Alan and run off, but the truth soon came out.

The dead boy lived at 126 Magnolia Court, Compton, his best friend and killer at 5449 Virginia Ave., and wee gun moll Loraine at 516 Commonwealth Ave.

Drown A Cold, Feed a Fever

January 8, 1947
Lincoln Heights

Streetcar motorman Jesse Viscarra, 33, is not one to suffer a cold lightly. Returning home to 2403 N. Broadway on his lunch break after sneezing and wheezing all morning, he told his wife that his Army buddies had always sworn by "the old reliable" when a bug struck, and he reckoned he'd do the same.

So after snorting a snootful, Viscarra returned to his route and promptly crashed into a car driven by Mrs. Olga Milosevick, of 733 Bernard Street, at the corner of College and North Broadway. Arriving officers got a whiff of Viscarra's breath and whisked him off to the Lincoln Heights drunk tank, while Viscarra moaned that he'd never had an accident before, and that the lady had turned in front of him.

Well, so what if she did? He's still admittedly guilty of California Penal Code 367F, operating a streetcar while inebriated.

The Child Army of San Pedro

January 7, 1947
San Pedro

Police have arrested eight youngsters on charges of burglary related to the brazen theft of weaponry from the Fort McArthur armory. The boys sawed through a lock and entered the building where returning troops' weapons were stored, making off with a veritable arsenal of a dozen automatic pistols, four carbines plus jungle knives, bayonets and ammo.

The thieves were discovered when they returned to the area to dig up their plunder, which they had hidden for later pick up.

Varmints!

January 6, 1947
Burbank

The four boys who rented ponies for an hour's canter from the Rocking Horse Stables at 470 Riverside Dr. seemed like nice kids to manager Roy Brown, but a day after they saddled up he's yet to see the front of 'em. The names and addresses they left were false--one is a Van Nuys funeral parlor--and Brown can offer few clues save that one of the quartet walked with crutches. With the horses and their gear, Brown is out $6000--an expensive lesson in the low moral character of the youth of 1947.

The Hun in Hollywood

January 5, 1947
Hollywood

The Nazis were afoot tonight, making yet another assault on the walls of the Temple Beth El synagogue at 1508 N. Wilton Place. Alert Hun-hunters will recall that the edifice was streaked with oil in a 1937 incident, and defaced with swastikas and graffiti reading "Heil Hitler" and "Viva Il Duce" the following year.

The modern anti-Semite works quicker, and in potentially more deadly fashion. Witnesses told investigating officers that a man pulled his car in front of the Temple and fired 14 rifle shots into the front door, then sped off. Bullets were later recovered from the back wall of the building.

One Final Gift

January 4, 1947
Los Angeles

Bernard E. Schwartz died in his car near the intersection of Stocker and Baldwin Streets. He had run a hose from the exhaust pipe into the cab. When passing motorists discovered the body, they also found a note directing that Schwartz' corneas be donated to someone who needed them.

Unfortunately, Schwartz had been dead too long for his eyes to be transplanted. However, his friend and executor Arthur Wasson has honored the dead man's desires by arranging for all usable portions of Schwartz' body to be used for the aid of science at Medical School of the University of Southern California.

Schwartz, a former Naval chief petty officer who lived at 3835 W. Seventh Street, left a poignant note explaining his passing as "a simple case of suicide, induced by my complete lack of desire to continue living." He was thirty years old.

Employee of the Month

January 3, 1947
Echo Park

The two robbers, one tall, one short, both shabby-looking, entered the California Bank branch and Sunset and Alvarado during the afternoon rush. At first they waited for a turn at LaVonne Quigley's window, then made a sudden switch to Edward G. Miske's teller station.

It was a bad choice. For when the tall man slid the note reading "This is a stickup. Give the alarm and we'll kill you. We want your money." across the counter, Miske looked right down the barrel of an automatic pistol and snapped "You'll not get any money!" Then he reached for the alarm and was promptly shot in the arm, severing an artery.

The two men rushed out of the bank, up Alvarado, to Reservoir and into a waiting Yellow Cab. But their bad luck wasn't over. Gerald Hough had just parked behind the cab, and reported the license to police. By nightfall, hundreds of officers were searching the city for the men, while brave, foolish Edward Miske celebrated his 26th birthday at Georgia Street Receiving Hospital. Despite losing a lot of blood, he is expected to recover.

Hatching An Egg

January 2, 1947
West Hollywood

When confronted by a would-be bandit in the 8900 block of Sunset Blvd., Miss Eleanor Falk, 30-year-old bookkeeper for a nightclub at 9039 Sunset, refused to hand over the sack containing $2000 in receipts. Instead, the clever girl dropped the bag and sat on it, then commenced to yell so forcefully that the crook hopped back into his accomplice's car and took a powder. Then the unflappable miss continued along to the bank, where she made her deposit as planned.

Where There's Smoke...

January 1, 1947
Downtown

The lady on Bunker Hill saw smoke drifting and phoned the fire department. "Hurry! City Hall's on fire!" All available trucks raced to the scene, and uniformed firemen scaled the steps with crowbars and axes at the ready, caught the express elevator and searched out the flames--but there were none. It seems the caller had merely seen a small cloud pass before the venerable tower, and the cloud had passed by, leaving no destruction in its wake.