The Winds Came

September 19, 1947
New Orleans

Panicked citizens of Louisiana's low-lying shore, woken by a 1:15am weather advisory warning that a 140mph hurricane might reach the mouth of the Mississippi by early afternoon, frantically sought to flee into the New Orleans tonight even as the river's waters, driven by rising wind and tide, sloshed over the city's vaunted levy system. A huge shelter with 800 beds awaited the escapees inside the Municipal Auditorium.

New Orleaneans hold great pride and confidence in their river levy system, but it has never before been tested by a strong hurricane. The levies were built in response to the devastating storm of 1915.

Severe damage has already been felt throughout southern Florida, with an estimated $25,000,000 loss to the citrus industry and 188 buildings destroyed in Ft. Lauderdale. Also threatened by the storm are Biloxi, Gulfport and other important tidal towns.

Recommended reading: Herbert "Gangs of New York" Asbury's The French Quarter: An Informal History of the New Orleans Underworld

Good Boys!

September 18, 1947
Los Angeles

Two days before he died in February, attorney Carelton R. Bainbridge, 63, rewrote his will to include a very unusual bequest. His entire estate of $30,000 was left in the trust of his friend Charles Connelley for the care of Bainbridge's beloved 6-year-old Irish setter dogs, Pat and Gunner.

In court today to challenge Bainbridge's wishes are several two-legged hounds from the dead man's past, including his brother Sherman, who publishes a pension movement magazine, and Sherman's daughter Marjorie. Also on the scene is Mrs. Christine Halstead Bainbridge, the woman Bainbridge wed (and deserted) in 1926. She has a 1925 Bainbridge will in which she plays a featured role.

Sherman Bainbridge's attorney Harold A. Fendler intends to show that Carelton Banbridge was not of sound mind when he made the 1947 will. As evidence, he claims that the dead man regularly took Pat and Gunner to the movies, where he would ask their opinions on the show. He believed the dogs could talk, and also read them bedtime stories.

There's No (Place Like) Home

September 17, 1947
Los Angeles

Contractor Sam Murman, 58, was sentenced to one to ten in San Quentin today on a charge of collecting deposits of more than $38,000 from 44 ex-servicemen and their families for advance rent on an apartment project at 1414 W. 25th Street that could only accomodate twelve families. Murman blamed the discrepancy on the his illiteracy, claiming he kept all his contracts in his head and became confused. None of the victims ultimately gained occupancy in Murman's building. Murman has filed for bankruptcy, but it seems unlikely that any of his victims will receive more than $100 of their $900 average loss.

Farewell to Old Timers Village

September 16, 1947
Los Angeles

The wreckers pulled down the old residential hotel at 609 East 2nd Street today to make a parking lot for Western Telegraph employees. Built in 1888 to accomodate 64 persons, by 1916 it was known as Walton House, after the owner-operators. By 1935 it was known as Old Timers Village or more fondly as Bachelor's Lair, in honor of its cranky population of ex-miners and construction workers who permitted no feminine touch to impose its frills upon their pragmatism. They cooked, cleaned and laundered themselves as they had during their working days. But no more.

Dong Dong Dong

September 14, 1947
Los Angeles

Those are wedding bells you're hearing for hard-boiled pen-man James M. Cain, who took the occasion of the granting of Aileen Pringle's divorce petition to announce that he intends to wed singer Florence MacBeth in October. The bride, widow of Captain Edward Whitwell R.A.F., has had a succesful stage career with the Chicago Grand Opera, despite sporting so dangerous a name. Post-nuptials, the lovebirds are off to Louisiana, where Cain intends to research a civil war novel while Flo begins her memoirs.

Trouble in West LA

September 13, 1947
West Los Angeles

All Betty Rockwell MacDonald, the pretty, poised and wealthy 24-year-old wife of Robert MacDonald, wanted was for her husband to stop threatening her. And for him to get a job. He hadn't worked since 1945.

Robert, 27, a former Lt. who received three Purple Hearts, a Silver and a Bronze Star in the European theater, has been receiving psychiatric care at the VA. This may have helped when Betty filed for divorce five months ago, agreed to reconcile, and recently began making divorce sounds again. Unfortunately, Robert's shrink didn't insist he remove his collection of war weaponry from the family home at 822 Warner Ave.

Last night, Betty phoned her attorney and insisted on revising her will. Now. She was not, she claimed, being threatened, but nonetheless she could not wait. And so her $100,000 fortune was to be shared by the MacDonald children, John, 6, and Eilen Gay, 11 months, with Betty's mother as executrix.

Robert slept in the den last night, and was surly when Betty woke him to move his car so she could take little John to the dentist. The couple ended up in their upstairs bedroom, where they scuffled and argued. Nurse Constance Baker ran upstairs and saw John come hurtling out of the room as if tossed. Then gunshots: chest and head for Betty, mouth-shot for John. Both DOA, a sad finish to the story that began with the pair's elopement in 1940.

Suggested reading: Surviving Domestic Violence: Voices of Women Who Broke Free

September Serenade

September 12, 1947
Los Angeles

Finalized today was the divorce of one-time silent screen starlet and fruit company heiress Aileen Pringle, 46, and crime novelist James M. Cain, 55. The pair were wed three years ago in Santa Monica, but separated last year. In her complaint, Mrs. Pringle, who was formerly married to Jamaican aristocrat Charles McKenzie Pringle and romantically linked to H.L. Mencken, charged that Cain was a "moody, melancholy and grim" husband, who "built mental dungeons instead of castles in the air." In a letter to Mencken in 1946, she quipped "If I had remained married to that psychotic Cain, I would be wearing a straight jacket instead of the New Look."


Suggested reading: Cain's The Postman Always Rings Twice, Double Indemnity, Mildred Pierce, and Selected Stories (Hardcover)

1947project's Kim & Nathan on the BBC tonight

UPDATE:

RAVIN' NATHAN ALERT: Hear the Podcast of the 1947project radio feature by Chris Vallance for BBC5

***
You can tune into BBC 5's bogging and podcasting show Up All Night this evening at 6:50PM PST to hear an audio tour of downtown Los Angeles that your cranky bloggers recently gave to visiting London journalist Chris Vallance. You can listen live here, or download for later podcasting from the station's archive here.

Chris got a ton of our blathering on tape, so I can't even tell you what topics will be covered, but Nathan was raving quite charmingly 90% of the time, so I reckon you will hear raving. Please check it out, and put any comments on the show in this post.

Tenants Say Power Cut Off To Evict Them

September 11, 1947
Los Angeles

Residents of the bungalow court apartments 8527-8531 West Third Street have filed a complaint with the City Attorney, claiming their landlord has cut off their electrical power in a bid to drive them out of their homes so he can rent them as business offices. For the past ten days, Dan Clough, Robert L. Springfels and Harry S. Bent have been living by candlelight and stocking their iceboxes with, well, ice.

James Hay, who lives uncomfortably close to his disgruntled tenants at 8517 West Third, previously attempted to raise their rents from $50 to $200 a month when the rent controlling Office of Price Administration (OPA) briefly ceased to exist last year. As soon as the new rent control went into effect this August, he served his tenants with eviction notices, and on August 30 turned off their power.

1947project & LA Time Machines invite you to Steak 'N Stein

1947project and Los Angeles Time Machines invite you to join them on a voyage into the past. To a time when no one knew their cholesterol numbers, and rye was both a bread and a beverage. A time of girdles (and trusses), not of Pilates. A time of hair-dos, dancing shoes and carrying a dime in mad money. A time of fabulous independent restaurants run by well-dressed gentlemen who understood their customers' needs and how to make every visit an occasion. Happily, we're still in that time, and we'd like to share with you one of the region's most extraordinary and little-known dining treasures.

Save the date: Saturday, September 17, 5pm.

The place: the lounge of Clearman's Steak 'N Stein Inn, 9545 E. Whittier Blvd. in Pico Rivera (3 blocks west of the 605).

The event: a gathering for fans and friends of the blog 1947project (http://1947project.blogspot.com) and the website Los Angeles Time Machines (http://www.latimemachines.com) to talk with others about historic LA crime, dining and culture.

We'll start at 5pm with cocktails and conversation in the astonishing vintage 1946 lounge, a dim-lit symphony in shiny copper, stained glass and Adirondack chairs with arms wide enough for the fattest tumbler. Around 7, we'll move on to dinner for those who wish to stay. Bring your appetite—and your wallet—as portions are huge but not cheap. Steak 'N Stein is the first restaurant in the Clearman family chain, which also includes several North Woods Inns and Clearman's Galley.

For more info about Steak 'N Stein, including directions, see
http://www.clearmansrestaurants.com/steakandstein.html

For more info about this gathering, and to RSVP (not essential, but appreciated), contact Kim Cooper of 1947project, amscray@gmail.com.

Arrival of the Detroit-kies

September 10, 1947
Santa Monica

For nearly a week, a broken truck has been parked just off Wilshire Blvd. Inside it, always inside it, Mr. Samuel C. Pirkey and his five tots, ages 2 through 10.

The family came out from Detroit in their "covered wagon" in hopes of finding work and housing, but the truck broke down before they found either. Mom was able to get a temporary gig at a cannery in the Valley, leaving dad to putter with the truck and watch the kids all day. By night, they all cram into their wheeled studio apartment, and dream of the California paradise they imagined while on the road.

Oh, Mother!

September 9, 1947
Santa Monica

Three cars full of cops hid on the dark highway just outside of town, waiting for the trio who'd robbed a Ventura cafe of $26 earlier in the evening. Around midnight, the fly was snagged in one of the lawmens' webs.

Pulled from the car was 14-year-old Mrs. Beverly Lynch, blonde-haired mother of a 2-year-old daughter and 7-month-old son, all residing at 723 1/2 W. 8th Street. Also her husband Robert David, 19, and their 20-year-old accomplice Leroy Ulrey, Jr. of 806 S. Westlake Ave.

It's believed that in this as in four previous robberies in the Los Angeles area, the Lynches stayed in the car while Ulrey went inside and held up victims with a .22 caliber revolver. Wonder how much of the loot went to pay the babysitter?

Further reading: The Encyclopedia of Robberies, Heists, and Capers

Lucky Lady

September 8, 1947
Inglewood

Flora Killingsworth, 18, has only been waitressing for three days, but she's already hit the food service jackpot when a customer put a hundred dollar bill down on her counter and told her to keep the change. His order: ham and eggs. Flora ran after the guy to see if he realized what a big bill he'd dropped, but he was nowhere to be found.

Officers said a man matching his description had been freely passing hundreds for small services in the Hermosa Beach area. There was, they hastened to add, no law against it.

The House of Bosko Goes Boom

September 7, 1947
Beverly Hills

A smoldering fire in the basement of a motion picture stock storage house burst into open flame yesterday, blasting out a fire door and injuring six men, among them city firemen. The blaze, beneath the Harman-Ising cartooning studio at 9713 Santa Monica Blvd., caused acculumated gasses to explode even as firefighters attempted to break inside to quash it.

The fire made multicolored smoke to pour from the building's vents, causing traffic policeman C.J. Verhaar to quip it was the first Technicolor fire he'd ever witnessed.

Firemen wore gas masks as they fought the acrid flames.

Meanwhile, out on the sidewalk, displaced alterations gal Mrs. Natalie Nikitin calmly mended some trousers, which she said she had promised to a nice man whose name she did not know.

Smoke and water damage to the first floor shops has yet to be calculated, but appears extensive.

Recommended cartoon viewing: Uncensored Bosko Vol. 1

No deposit, no return

September 6, 1947
El Monte

Bicycling home with a basket full of pop, 10-year-old David Jensen wiped out in front of 3353 S. Double Drive, a couple blocks from his home at #3502. The bottles broke in the fall, and punctured David's belly, prompting Sheriff's deputies to drive him to Alhambra Hospital for an emergency operation. The boy is in satisfactory, but serious, condition at press time.

Further research: Petretti's Soda Pop Collectibles Price Guide: The Encyclopedia of Soda-Pop Collectibles

It's really hard to quit

September 5, 1947
East Los Angeles

It was midnight when 24-year-old Richard Durant of 340 1/2 N. Kern Street sent wife Mary, 25, out for cigarettes. When she returned, she found him making love to her younger sister, Marjorie. Afraid of what she might do, Mary called the sheriffs. And waited. Waited...

And after a while, she got out an icepick and stabbed Richard just beside the heart. So Richard spent the rest of the night in General Hospital and Mary in custody, while the luckless Marjorie watched the Durants' four kids.

When Richard realized his wife was in stir, he checked himself out against doctors' orders and went to the Sheriff's Station, where he told officers he didn't intend to file charges. And the Tiger Lady wants her man back, so it seems like it's going to be all sunshine back on Kern Street, at least for the moment.

Recommended reading: Not "Just Friends" : Protect Your Relationship from Infidelity and Heal the Trauma of Betrayal

It's not all failed chorines and dancing boys

September 4, 1947
Detroit

It was a year ago that prosperous dentist Jules Goldsmith, 42, packed up his wife and three kids and moved them to 201 S. Hamel Drive, Beverly Hills. The good DDS wanted to be not dentist to the stars, but a star himself.

And so he burned through the family's savings, returning to Detroit alone several weeks ago, when he saw how dire circumstances had become. His sister's maid found him hanging from a basement beam, with a note that read: "Big mistake in leaving hometown and all my friends. Lack of work all my fault. Motion pictures just a gag. We have good children. Betty should remain on the coast."

Betty and the children were on their way to Detroit at last report.

Suggested reading for starstruck fang-polishers: How to Make it in Hollywood : Second Edition

Family Food Costs Double Since 1942

September 3, 1947
United States

Based on three polls conducted over the past five years by Princeton, N.J. based American Institute of Public Opinion, non-farm families are spending nearly twice as much on their weekly food budgets as they were in 1942 (national median has risen from $11 to $21). However, professional and business class families are spending more than both white collar and manual laboring ones ($24 versus $20), suggesting that some of that increase is by choice, not necessity.

Hmm, honey, how about we send the kids to the movies, you grill a couple steaks and I'll mix up a pitcher of mai tais...?

Further reading: Beachbum Berry's Grog Log and The American Century Cookbook: The Most Popular Recipies of the 20th Century

A Flood of Youths

September 2, 1947
San Francisco

According to a poll conducted by the California Committee for the Study of Transient Youth at the state borders and in 15 California cities, up to 400 young people, 18-22, are entering California each day without their families. Most have left jobs in their home states in the belief that prospects for employment are better in California, and are "puzzled and resentful" to find this is not the case.

Further reading: A World of Its Own: Race, Labor, and Citrus in the Making of Greater Los Angeles, 1900-1970

Everybody's in Showbiz

September 1, 1947
West Hollywood

Yesterday, Marguerite Kelly's apartment door, at 1334 Olive Drive just off the Sunset Strip, was framed with fragrant honeysuckle. Today, the County Coroner defaced it with a sticker meant to seal the contents until her next of kin could be notified.

Marguerite, 29, was a blues chanteuse who never quite made it. After seven years in Hollywood, her small trust fund was nearly depleted and occasional cafe gigs weren't replenishing it. Her longtime friend Charles T. Young, 59-year-old retired market exec, took her out to fancy dinners, but seemed disinterested in making things more permanent. She began making notes to herself, analyzing her sad situation.

So after one such evening out with Mr. Young, Marguerite topped off the champagne cocktails with a shot of gas from the stove. Arriving the next morning, Young smelled rotten eggs mixed with the floral vines. With the aid of apartment manager W.J. Ferry, he forced the triple-locked and bolted door.

Inside lay Marguerite, nude, tangled in her blankets, nearly dead. Beside her, a note to Young, calling him the greatest man in the world. It begged "don't cut my hair, just cremate me."

Young expressed surprise that his ladyfriend had felt so strongly for him, and suggested that had he known, he might have done something about it. Too late now. She died and was taken to Utter-McKinley mortuary.

Marguerite has a sister in Milwaukee who may come and claim her sheet music and other remnants of life in Los Angeles.

Suggested reading: Hollywood Babylon : The Legendary Underground Classic of Hollywood's Darkest and Best Kept Secrets