Oct. 14, 1957
A few weeks ago, Jules Goldstone, producer of the TV show "The Court of Last Resort," was driving along Sunset Boulevard near Hilgard when a car doing about 60 mph came around a curve from the opposite direction, went out of control and smashed into his car, rolling it over twice.
"We both should have been killed, but miraculously we weren't," said Goldstone.
His car was demolished, but he received only a bad cut on the arm and bruises.
Since the accident, grateful to be alive, he has become more sharply aware of the possibility of unexpected death on the streets.
"In all the years I've been driving I've never related to myself the fact that a speeding automobile is a lethal weapon," he said.
Out of his sober thinking came an idea.
Many campaigns to control careless driving have been instituted by authorities, safety groups and automobile manufacturers themselves. They've helped, but Goldstone thinks there's a place for one more group.
He has in mind an association of people who have been close to death in automobile accidents. If they would contribute $1 or $2 a year to a fund to alert others to the menace of unthinking and irresponsible drivers, he believes their warnings would have even greater impact.
There it is, a lost cause, perhaps, but maybe not.
The story is to the effect that the 1958 automobile will have a gold-anodized aluminum button on the instrument panel. It won't be connected with anything, but when you push it, it will push back--just to let you feel you're wanted.
IT'S DEFINITE that the Dodgers are coming, but there's a reason to believe the Battle of Chavez Ravine is not quite over.
Twelve families there are sitting tight, some of them on land their grandfathers bought and built homes on and they don't think the city has done right by them.
A ringleader in the opposition is Mrs. Glen Walters, a movie character actress who, although already evicted, is still fighting. The story she tells of being stalled by officaldom isn't nice.
Anyway, a posse of lawmen went up into the ravine about a month ago to serve some papers on the residents. They were met by a determined group, including the embattled Glen Walters.
There was an exchange of threats and a brief, inconclusive scuffle, hitherto unreported, during which the ironic symbolism reared its head, if that is possible.
Mrs. Walters, a rough and ready gal, held off the lawmen with a baseball bat.
DOES IT SEEM to anyone else that the newly created job of municipal beautification coordinator and renewed activity of the L.A. Beautiful Committee come at a time when citizens are legally perpetrating an unsightly mess--placing battered cartons, bulging bags and other debris at their curbs for the rubbish collector?
AT RANDOM--Expense account folk who feed along La Cienega Boulevard's Restaurant Row refer to it affectionately as The Swamp, which is what it means in Spanish.
Biggest thing Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus has had to combat is the belief that it had died. People somehow got this idea when it was announced about a year ago that the circus was discarding its big tent, sideshows and entourage to cut expenses and go modern.
A man in a tightly packed Spring Street elevator remarked wickedly to no one in particular, "Gee, it's nice to ride in these upholstered elevators."
The sign proclaiming the availability of apartments on Moorpark Street in Sherman Oaks has changed again. It was, "For young people over 50," then "For mature people" and is now, prosaically, "For adults only."