Matt Weinstock, Nov. 27, 1959

Another panel you'll never see in the legacy sitcom version of "Peanuts." Dog's Day in the Sun     Inasmuch as the subject was brought up here, it's only fair that we have a final report on Glenn Shahan's miniature schnauzer, Henry.  It may be recalled that Henry developed a persistent hacking cough and  a veterinarian said the only thing was to send him to Palm Springs for a week in the dry sunshine.  The pooch, not Glenn -- he can't afford it.     While there Henry lounged around in a plush Doggie Dude ranch, presumably with swimming pool and chuck wagon chow.  As a result of mention here he received three hand-knit sweaters, a car coat, a parka, an Ivy League cap, several boxes of dog candy and a flock of get-well cards.  Furthermore, he flew back from Palm Springs, his health recovered.      He also acquired a furtive look and Glenn suspects he is secretly planning another cough so he can go to Acapulco next time.  Take Glenn's word for it, he's only going one place -- back to obscurity. ::     THE controversy over the Pasadena art find reminded Jeff Davis of a classic story heard in art circles.     Just before WWII a South American millionaire bought a Titian in Italy for a high price.  Fearing the broker would tip off government officials and he wouldn't be able to get it out of the country, he hired an artist to do a portrait of Mussolini over the Titian and he got it through without trouble.     When it arrived in South America the owner hired an expert to remove the Mussolini portrait.  He did so, then scraped off a little of the Titian preparatory to restoring it.  Underneath he found another portrait of Mussolini. ::     LIKES GIRLS Seven radiant maidens     vying for Rose Queen- Lovelier contestants seldom     have been seen. Good thing I'm not judging     or they all would ween!     --JUAN LIGHTHEART ::     A PUBLICIST who is on all sorts of mailing lists received an invitation the other day to a $100-a-plate dinner in January.  He happens to be unemployed at the moment and any thought of attending it is out of the question.  But he was fascinated by its note of urgency.  "Better hurry," it concluded, "first come, first served." ::     FURTHER PROOF that school teachers watch over their little ones in more ways than parents suspect was contained in this note, printed in huge letters, which Craig Atterbury, 6, brought home:  "Dear Mother: I was not a good citizen today at school.  I walked under the slide, I bothered four children and I ran through Miss Rattray's game circle." ::     THEN THERE WAS the letter Kimberly Clement, 5, brought home from her kindergarten teacher, Toni Criley, at Silver Spur school in Rolling Hills, titled "Teacher Observations": "Kimberly is a happy, well-adjusted girl who co-operates cheerfully with others.  She is a good worker, finishing every project she starts.  She speaks clearly and distinctly.  She learns easily and enjoys using the concepts and words which she has learned.  However, she sometimes seems to daydream during class and thus misses some of the things which are said." ::     ON THE EVE of another football week end let us unleash two inescapable thoughts which seem to permeate a topsy-turvy season:     1.  All football is dull when your team loses.     2.  Gloating is what the opposition does, never you. ::     AT RANDOM -- When a sporting postman on a Hollywood beat delivers a postage-due letter to recipients  with gambling instincts, they flip a coin -- double or nothing . . . Pictorially and dramatically the $15 million movie "Ben-Hur" is magnificent.  But it does get gory here and there.  In fact, after the press review one gal remarked, "No wonder the price of ketchup went up!" . . . A pleasant gentleman sat down at deputy registrar Bernard Wiener's table in front of a market at Sepulveda Blvd. and Devonshire and said he had changed his residence and wanted to re-register.  After he'd gone, a bell rang for Wiener.  It was Ken Maynard, his boyhood idol.  He regrets he didn't express his admiration.

Paul V. Coates – Confidential File, Nov. 27, 1959

Baby Given Away by Unwed Mother     Yesterday was Thanksgiving but the girl who wandered timidly into my office wasn't giving thanks.     Her green eyes were rimmed with red as she sat down.     "The lady in the bar on Vermont told me maybe it would help if I went to the newspapers," she said.     The she introduced herself.  Her name was Mary.     She was short and skinny and looked a lot younger than the 26 years she admitted to.     "I don't know if you can," she continued.  "Maybe it's just silly for me to come here."     Reporters have a stock line about, "Well, if there's anything we can do, we'll certainly try."  I gave it to her.     She accepted it.     Then, the formalities over, she told me:     "I gave my baby away and I want it back."     "Gave it away?"     "I did," she repeated.  "I really didn't want to, but people kept telling me it was better.  They said it would be brought up better, with a good education.     "You see," she added.  "I wasn't brought up too good.  I guess that's what they figured."     "Who did you give it to?" I asked.     "To the adoption people." Mary stared at the floor, hiding her wet eyes, showing only the brown roots of her bleached hair.  "The county, I guess it was."     "They told you it would be better to give your baby away?" I asked.     "No, they didn't say that."  She shook her head.     "Other people said it.  The adoption people said I could have my baby, but I was afraid.  You see, I didn't have any job.  I should have asked my mother if I could have gone and lived with them, but she didn't know about my baby.  She's in the East.     "But my stepfather.  He's so funny.  He wouldn't want any babies around." Baby Born Out of Wedlock     I asked how long the baby'd been gone.     "I signed the papers in August.  They kept talking to me every week -- the adoption bureau.  They were asking me every week to make up my mind so finally I said I'd give them my baby."     In vigorous self-consciousness, the girl rubbed the back of her neck.     "I never been married," she continued.  "I don't even know where the father is."     "But you know who he is?"     "No.  I went with a lot of sailors.  You see, at the time, I was living in San Diego."     She sat silently for a minute, still rubbing her neck.     "But I pray a lot," she began again, hopefully.  "I don't really go to church on Sundays.  I should but I don't have any good clothes to wear.  I go in the afternoons sometimes when nobody's there.     "Now, I been praying every day."     "Did you ever see your baby?" I asked.     "Only one time, last July.  Right after it was born."     The baby was "it," always "it."     She added, "I don't even remember what it looks like now.  I don't know if I'd know it if I saw it."     "Was it a boy or girl?"  I asked.     The girl looked at me strangely.     "It was a boy-baby," she answered, almost in anger.  "But what difference does that make?  It was my baby."     For the first time since she sat down, she looked me in the eye.     "You can't help me, can you?" she said.  "It's too late, isn't it?"     Then she left.

Secretary Found Stabbed to Death

The killing of Joyce Gayle Walker on the cover of the final edition … View Larger Map ... and a bylined version by Howard Hertel and Jack Smith.

Nov. 27, 1964: The death of Joyce Gayle Walker is one of the more haunting killings of the 1960s. I’m not sure it was ever solved. I can’t find any follow-up stories on it.

A Kinder, Simpler Time Dept.: Your Movie Columnist

No. 27, 1964: "Neiman-Marcus always has something new for the ladies at Xmas time. This year it's suction bras covered with sable. One press and they're on for the evening. Made by our own Willys of Hollywood."

Movie Star Mystery Photo

Los Angeles Times file photo Update: This is Creighton Hale in a photo dated Feb. 17, 1924. He died in 1965. Aug. 12, 1923: Newcomer Creighton Hale is making a picture with "Ernest" [Ernst] Lubitsch. [ProQuest shows that The Times frequently misspelled his name]. Just a reminder on how this works: I post the mystery photo on Monday and reveal the answer on Friday ... or on Saturday if I have a hard time picking only five pictures; sometimes it's difficult to choose. To keep the mystery photo from getting lost in the other entries, I move it from Monday to Tuesday to Wednesday, etc., adding a photo every day. I have to approve all comments, so if your guess is posted immediately, that means you're wrong. (And if a wrong guess has already been submitted by someone else, there's no point in submitting it again). If you're right, you will have to wait until Friday. There's no need to submit your guess five times. Once is enough. The only reward is bragging rights.  The answer to last week's mystery star: Milton Sills! Los Angeles Times file photo Update: Creighton Hale and Irving Cummings in an unidentified photo dated March 4, 1924. Here’s our mystery fellow with a mystery companion. Please congratulate Carmen, Mike Hawks, Nick Santa Maria and newcomer Vidor Fan for identifying him. Los Angeles Times file photo Jun 16, 1929: Creighton Hale in a publicity photo for “Paris Bound,” a play produced at the Hollywood Music Box.  Here’s another photo of our mystery star! Los Angeles Times file photo Update: Creighton Hale, Kent Smith and Ann Sheridan in “The Sentence,” later changed to “Nora Prentiss,” April 9, 1947.  Our mystery fellow and some mystery companions. Please congratulate Mary Mallory for identifying him. And special congratulations to Mike Hawks for identifying Tuesday’s mystery companion. Los Angeles Times file photo Creighton Hale and his Boston terrier in an undated photo. Please congratulate Dewey Webb, Don Danard, Jenny M., Michael Ryerson, Gregory Moore, Stacia, Thom B and Alexa Foreman for identifying him.

Hollywood's Forgotten Genius

Jay Robinson sits in his Bel-Air mansion on Stone Canyon Road.   View Larger Map   The Rams suspend Duane Putnam, reportedly for going out on the town with former teammate Andy Robustelli, now a member of the New York Giants.

Nov. 27, 1959: Out-of-work actor Jay Robinson, 29, says he hit his peak at 23.

Actress Divorces Husband Over Remarks About Movie Industry

Prince Albert Calais wears a corset, but on doctor’s orders.

Nov. 27, 1919: Actress Ruth Villmore Eversole, known professionally as Ruth Royce, sues for divorce because her husband got angry when she came home late. He also made derogatory comments about her and her friends in the movie business.

Court Fight Over Cook’s Biscuits

Charges are dropped against men accused of violating the law on public speaking in parks.

Nov. 27, 1909: Lucene Farr, an African American cook, tries to recover $40 after quitting her job at the boarding house of Alice Eisen because  Eisen criticized Farr’s biscuits as “nothing like her mother used to make.”

Matt Weinstock, Nov. 26, 1959

Cop and Robber     Citizens can be thankful for policemen like Dalton Robert Patton, whose funeral was held yesterday.     Patton, 58, who retired from the LAPD in 1943, was not a "front page cop."  He preferred to work quietly, without fuss.     Friends yesterday recalled his classic encounter with a safe cracker.  Patton, detective captain at Hollywood station, spent months tracking him down and had him, as the saying goes, "dead bang."     But to everyone's consternation a jury acquitted him.  After the trial the burglar said, "No hard feelings, captain.  And I want you to know I'll never crack another safe in your division ."     PATTON DIDN'T FORGET; he waited.  One day months later he saw the man's name on a make sheet for drunk driving. He checked the jail and learned he would not be released on bail for several hours.     He went to the robber's address, was admitted to his apartment by the landlady and found what he suspected would be there -- a canvas bag of yeggman's tools.  He put a coating of powdered anthracite on them and departed.     His guess was that the robber would need money for bail and a lawyer and try for it the only way he knew.  The robber did -- one safe in Glendale, another in Burbank.  This time, when confronted with Patton's telltale evidence -- powdered anthracite is invisible but glitters like gold under black light -- the robber disgustedly pleaded guilty. ::     SILVER LINING How sad it is that berries,     cran, Have been declared     unsafe for man: But it would be much     more absurd If our turkey got the bird.         --MARY ALKUS ::     SPEAKING OF which, the movie "Operation Petticoat" has a scene in which George Dunn, crewman on a sub docked at a South Pacific island during WWII, is enjoying a luau when a Japanese plane strafes the area.     He hits the deck, gets up covered with a red smear and exclaims, "Gosh, I've been killed."  Then he tastes the red stuff and says, "Cranberries!"     A month ago the line hardly meant anything; now it's bringing down the house. ::     LETTER, in a thankful mood, signed A Grateful Patient:     "May I express my thanks to the fine doctors who take time out of busy schedules to drive miles to General Hospital to study the cases of heart patients like myself and prescribe medication.  Not all doctors are money grabbers." ::     REWRITE MEN, by superhuman effort, usually manage to smother their cynicism.  But not always.  Consider the reporter delegated the other day to throw together a few paragraphs about the Santa Claus parade.     He led off stating one of the most spectacular floats would be the "crater monster" from the film "Journey to the Center of the Earth."  Then this sentence:     "The monster, breathing jets of smoke from the nostrils of its giant serpent head, is expected to kindle the yule spirit in the heart of every Hollywood child." ::     THIS ONE is from a fact-facing Compton lady named Lois:     "The investigation of TV quiz show fixing has me wondering if the committee will look into the matter of the ladies not so well blessed as others who put on false fronts and derrieres.  After all, they are fooling people into believing their structure is all Mother Nature, which is dishonest and fraudulent.  Not to mention the letdown the ladies would get upon finding out their he-man wore padded shoulders and built-up shoes.  Personally I have no worries but this thing is leading from one place to another so fast."     Somebody was bound to bring it up. ::     AROUND TOWN -- Sign on barrier outside building under construction on Melrose Ave. near Vine: "Enyart-Rose.  Adv.  Help Wanted.  Excellent prospect for son of large advertiser" . . . There was a smashed baby carriage on Hollywood Freeway the other day.  Harry Cress wonders what it hit . . . A gas station on Sepulveda Blvd. near Nordhoff has a  sign, "We wash foreign cars with imported water" . . . Jerry Burtnett has formed the Society for the Encouragement of Calling Oahu -- the island on which Honolulu is located -- Oahu.  Not Hawaii.

Paul V. Coates – Confidential File, Nov. 26, 1959

Nothing So Dread as He With Fanatic Eye     It's my guess that E.B. (Jet) Simrell -- the 46-year-old ex-market owner who surrendered to the FBI yesterday after having threatened the lives of seven judges -- figures he's got one big card to play in his crusade against the "un-feminine, all-powerful American woman."     And it's my opinion that he's sadly wrong.     If Simrell carries out his plan to "fast until death to win unanimous approval of the truths for which I fight," he might win himself a little public pity.     But that's all.     Long ago, he lost sight of the objectives of his fight.  And with them, he lost everything, including, possibly, his sanity.     The strange part of his story is that he was an intelligent, if badly disturbed man.     Many of his criticisms, much of his analysis of our divorce laws and the ills of our society made sense.  And he could argue with logic on the issues.      In fact, in February of 1957, he appeared on a TV show of mine and debated the position of women in America.  He made enough sense then to cause a flood of letters in support of his arguments.  Most of the response, surprisingly, was from women.     But that was nearly three years ago.     That was before he pulled the warped, possibly psychopathic, "I killed three kids and their mother" stunt which sent police on a Code 3 chase to his home to find three kid goats and their nanny spread across a bed, their throats slit.     That was before he wrote the judges and three other court officials that they were on his list, marked for death.     Somehow, in his obsessed mind, publicity -- any kind of publicity -- was the key to success of his crusade.     "I needed to attract public attention," he wrote me apologetically after the goat episode.  "I wanted to shock the public into thinking strongly about the seriousness of out national problem of divorce and its tremendously devastating effects."     Shortly before his death-threat letters, he wrote me again, stating that he planned to "shock" the public into listening to him.     "I must injure no one, physically, and must stay within the law, or reasonably so," he said.     After his threats, he became a wanted man.  The FBI spread the net. Doesn't Make Sense   But in spite of this, he sent me a third letter.  This one, however, didn't make much sense.  His arguments became lost in his vitriol.     Then, yesterday morning came Letter No. 4, announcing his intention to surrender and to "fast until death" unless society changed its ways and conformed to Jet Simrell.     He was true to his word on his surrender.     I have little doubt that he'll try to starve himself to death, too.     It's a sad, sad story of a man who drove himself berserk.  We're lucky, I guess, that nobody else got hurt.