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Note: The murders of three little Inglewood girls was one of Los Angeles' most notorious case of the 1930s. Madeline
Everett, 7, her sister Melba, 9, and their playmate, Jeanette Stephens, 8, were lured to the Baldwin Hills by Albert Dyer, a WPA crossing guard, who
raped and strangled the girls one at a time on June 26, 1937. Dyer was hanged at San Quentin on Sept. 16, 1938. The girls are buried in unmarked graves at Inglewood
Park Cemetery.
Recently, Theresa Pinamonti Zeigler recalled: I was born Nov. 19, 1929, in a house on Kelso Street in Inglewood,
the youngest of six children of an Italian immigrant
family. When I was a year old, my family moved to 805 S.
Prairie Ave., across the street from where the Inglewood racetrack is
located now.
It was a huge area of swampy land with ponds, rushes, cattails,
trees and bushes. A couple of my
brothers and I had a good time playing there. I
believe that the house we lived in was torn down in the '60s.
My dad had a grocery store on Market Street in Inglewood called
the Midnight store, but lost it during the Depression and
subsequently worked for the WPA, building roads and bridges.
I was 7 1/2 years old at the time of the murders of three
little girls, who were kidnapped by Albert Dyer from Centinela Park in
Inglewood on June 26, 1937.
My sister Josephine and I
had walked to Centinela Park, which was over a mile from our
home. We were used to that long walk because we walked every day to St.
John's school, which was approximately a mile from where we lived on
Prairie Avenue.
On our way we passed by the Inglewood Park Cemetery, and I
always peeked through the fence out of curiosity at all the large,
numerous tombstones that I could see behind the chain-link
fencing.
I did not know how to swim, but played in the plunge (swimming
pool) with my older sister Josephine watching over me.
She was 14. Afterwards, my sister allowed me to play in the park so my
swimsuit could dry.
I played with the three little girls by a huge pipe. I am not
sure but it could have been a drainage pipe in the park. We played
together digging in the dirt, running in and out of the pipe chasing each
other laughing and giggling like little girls will do, then my
sister called me to go home.
Later in the day, we heard the news of the kidnapping of the three
little girls and then later, finding their bodies in Baldwin Hills which was a few miles from Centinela Park. [Note: The girls were found June 28, 1937].
I knew at the time, from their description of the little girls, that
they were the ones that I had been playing with in Centinela
Park.
One of our neighbors, a bachelor who lived with a married sister
on Buckthorne Street around the corner from our house, was
a suspect. My sister tells me that the police questioned me
about this bachelor and they also found out that I had played
with three little girls that matched the description of the missing children,
and asked me about that also, but I don't recall that specifically.
I do recall all the excitement in the neighborhood and all the grownups gathering
out in the alleys behind their homes, and some standing around on
the sidewalks talking about the missing children. This bachelor was
suspected of the kidnapping because he used to give his niece
and a couple of us little girls, who played with her, rides in the
back of his pickup truck.
I do remember the rides since that was as much
fun as riding in the rumble seat of a Ford. The
bachelor was eventually cleared. I know that it was a
scary time and I remember hearing the adults saying that some men wanted to
lynch the man while he was in jail.
Note: In early 1957, The Times sent UCLA professor Robert G. Neumann on a six-week tour of the Middle East. Neumann, who was later the U.S. ambassador to Afghanistan and Morocco, wrote these stories upon his return. His son, Ronald, is U.S. ambassador to Afghanistan.
Part 1, March 6, 1957
  May 5, 1957
Los Angeles
Life is miserable for the Bernstein family, 2499 Coolidge Ave. Nathan,
56, and his wife, Sadie, 43, work hard at an aircraft plant as they try
to raise their three children. One son is in college and they have a
15-year-old daughter. But 13-year-old Jerrald is a problem. In fact
there's so much strife in the home that Sadie took Jerrald to the West
Los Angeles police station and drove away after telling the desk
sergeant: "You take him--I don't want him anymore."
While Jerrald was given shelter at Juvenile Hall, Sadie sobbed out her
story after being charged with child abandonment. She said she and
Nathan had tried everything, including marriage counseling and
psychotherapy.
"Basically, he's a good kid and intelligent," she said. "But he's destructive. Everything he touches is destroyed."
Leaving Jerrald at the police station only caused more problems. Sadie
was charged with child abandonment and Nathan was accused of striking a
news photographer when he went to bail her out of jail.
In court, Jerrald testified that he had taken money from his mother,
but it was because his allowance was 13 cents a week, a penny for every
year of his age. He also admitted taking some candles, but explained
that it was because his mother had removed the light bulbs from his
room when he left them on. Jerrald also explained that he spent the
night in the garage because he had a hideaway in the attic outfitted
with a sleeping bag and air mattress.
We don't know what became of Jerrald. The Times says that the Jewish Big Brothers
(now the Jewish Big Brothers and Big Sisters) expressed an interest in
helping the Bernsteins and that Jerrald was eventually placed in a
foster home.
The Bernstein house, meanwhile, was taken out by the Santa Monica Freeway.
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The good news: It's a BMW. The bad news: You wouldn't want one for a gift.
May 4, 1957
Los Angeles
 Paul Weeks, formerly of the Mirror and The Times, says:
The Los Angeles Mirror's success was due primarily to J.
Edward Murray's journalistic talent, his creativity, his
forward-looking at important issues still not properly reported, his
ability to put together a staff of writers and reporters who shared his
views and responded to his encouragement, his enthusiasm for his own
work.
The then-decision makers in the ruling Chandler
family (before the Otis Chandler era) destroyed their own creation,
abandoning the Mirror simultaneously with Hearst's ceasing publication
of the Los Angeles Examiner.
Evening newspapers were gradually disappearing due
to the rise of television. But before publishers became fully aware of
that, the sparkling appearance of the Mirror rose in the Chandlers'
eagerness to monopolize the market in the Los Angeles metro field. The
old Los Angeles Daily News was losing its position of the best and the
brightest of newspapers with a liberal editorial bent when Manchester
Boddy began to lose interest and retired to his flower gardens.
When The Times bought out the old Daily News, the
Mirror picked up some of us who never wanted to work for the Chandlers
but found ourselves in the hands of the best managing editor in the
business. The Matrix prizes and the countless other
awards the paper earned must be tracked directly to Ed.
He assigned me to explore the in-pouring black
community -- its ability (or inability, more likely) to find housing,
jobs and education in what was supposed to be an enlightened city. It
was he who decided that Vernon McPherson and I should spend three
months on Skid Row. I will never forget the day a press agent for the
property owner who helped us get the story offered Vern and I $500 each
if we kept the owner's name out of our story.
I rushed in to tell Murray about it, and he urged
me with a smile to go back to work. The next day the guy came back and
walked into Murray's office. You never heard such a rumble out of him
as he kicked the guy out.
But the Chandlers just couldn't face the "monster"
they had created. If you knew of The Times in those days, you'd know
they wouldn't want their rampaging little newspaper to dig up so much
grist that was REALLY news. They edged out Murray and replaced his
team with a couple of editors from Texas that could march to The Times'
own concept of a newspaper. They enlarged the sheet from five columns
to full spread. I had seldom covered politics, but when I did some
advance material for the Democratic convention that picked JFK, I got
hustled off to Washington to open a one-person bureau.
Meantime, young Otis became publisher of The
Times. The paper rose from one of the worst in the nation to among the
top four -- but we all know what happened to that when Otis left and
The Times started another drop downhill.
Dear Walter,
What's this I hear about you looking over the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum to play baseball? You must be joking! Do you know how far it would be from home plate to the left field wall? 250 feet! 
Part 1
Click to enlarge 
Part 2, click to enlarge
Part 3, click to enlarge
Pictures from Sen. Joseph R. McCarthy's funeral here.
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May 3, 1957
Santa Monica
Thomas Alfred Gates, 33, a chef at a Santa Monica restaurant, approached The
Times with a story. Gates, who was charged with grand theft, said that during a
recess in his preliminary hearing, Detective Curtis Frank, 45, offered to get
his case reduced to a misdemeanor for $150.
The Times and district attorney's investigators gave Gates marked money and a
wireless microphone. A Times photographer using a telephoto lens took pictures
of the transaction as Gates handed Frank an envelope containing $80 in money
marked with fluorescent powder.
Santa Monica Police Chief Otto Faulkner fired Frank, but told the detective he
could ask to be reinstated if he was found not guilty.
Dist. Atty.'s Lt. Howard Hooper testified that when he took Frank to the rear of
the restaurant to be searched, a packet of money fell to the ground next to
Frank's feet. Times reporter Clarence Mortenson testified that Frank asked
"for a break" during his arrest. Frank, meanwhile, said that he had been framed.
During the trial, Douglas Huff came forward to testify that when he was arrested
for attempted burglary, Frank offered to reduce charges against him for $150.
Huff said he refused to pay the money and was sentenced. Jurors also heard a
recording of a conversation between Gates and Frank, a conversation that Frank
said never occurred.
The Times said an "all-woman jury" found Santa Monica Police Detective Curtis
Frank not guilty despite the testimony, photographs, recording and presence of
fluorescent powder from the marked money. Unfortunately, we don't know the
details because the story got bumped off Page 1 for the microfilmed edition, so
all that remains is a photo caption of Frank, his wife and his attorney in the
hallway of the courthouse.
And as of 1965, according to The Times, Frank was still with the Santa Monica
Police Department. According to the Social Security Death Index, a man named
Curtis Frank, born Jan. 10, 1912, and issued a Social Security card in
California, died in Henderson, Nev., on Dec. 4, 1995.
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See the ad for the Rex
May 2, 1957
Los Angeles
In the last couple of weeks Kay Cataldi has repeatedly observed a strange
sight--young women walking barefooted along a street, carrying their shoes.
She saw one on Hill street, another on 1st street. The other day a girl walked
into City Hall barefooted, carrying her shoes, and Kay's curiosity overwhelmed
her.
And so she asks, what is this? A trend? A rite of spring? A sorority initiation?
Are they members of a cult?
Well, Kay, I've made a brief survey of my own and the consensus was best
expressed by a waitress named Julia:
"Are you kidding? They go barefooted because their feet hurt. As for the girl in
the City Hall. I've had a yen to do that for years. Boy, that cool marble floor
on a hot day, that's living!
AROUND TOWN: Kendis Rochlen, who has to
stay out late covering the goings-on at nightclubs and movie colony soirees,
reports the all-night disc jockeys speak a strange nocturnal language. She heard
one remark, after playing a Nat Cole record: "Isn't that Nathaniel the
coocooest?"
May 2, 1957
Los Angeles
Police officers had a kindly affection for old "Toothpick Charlie." At 93, the
dapper, neatly dressed man known as James J. Fitzpatrick, James Hennesy and
James Flannery had been working his cons since before they were born. Of
course, in typically modest fashion, he denied everything, even his nickname.
"Never heard that term Toothpick Charlie till I read it in a newspaper story,"
he said.
Charlie, whose record at Folsom and San Quentin prisons dated to 1904 (he denied
ever being arrested, even when police showed him his voluminous file), was nice
to the police. "Always been a courteous man," he said. "A policeman who picks
you up when you're breaking the law, he means no imposition. You got to
appreciate that. He's just doing his job. Always a good idea to be courteous."
Early in his career, Charlie specialized in burglaries and police said he was
one of the best second-story men in the business. But by 84, he had switched to
stealing money from pay phones by jamming them with paper napkins.
In 1954, when he got 10 days for stealing coins from pay phones, he said he was
born in San Diego and had been in the service, fighting in Cuba and the
Philippines during the Spanish-American War. He said most of his family
was dead. "Might be a relative or two around but I wouldn't care
about looking 'em up. Wouldn't want to impose," he said.
Before that, he'd been arrested in 1948 for hitting pay phones in a drugstore at
401
W. 4th St. and in 1949 for the same thing at the bus station, 6th and Los
Angeles streets.
His latest arrest was at
756
S. Spring St. Police found he was carrying a few custom picks and $2.28.
Judge Mark Bandler gave him a suspended sentence of 180 days and warned Charlie
that if he was picked up again, he'd be sentenced for that crime plus the 180
days.
"It would be kind of nice if you mended your ways," Bandler said, "but I suppose
it's too late."
According to The Times, Charlie planned to move to San Diego. "It's high time I
retire," he said. And perhaps he did, for he never appears in The Times again,
nor is he listed in the California death index, raising the question of exactly
what became of the old con.
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KCBS-TV Channel 2 reports idiotically that the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department photographed the Black Dahlia crime scene, a neat trick since Elizabeth Short was killed in the city of Los Angeles. Oops! The crime scene on South Norton Avenue was actually photographed by the LAPD's Gilbert Laursen. People should at least make some attempt to do their homework.
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May 2, 1957
Los Angeles
Meet Henry C. "Clay" Hamby, 42, who lived with his wife, Mildred, and three
children in a 944-square-foot home at
14519
Paddock St., in Sylmar.
Clay is a drophammer operator at Reylon Precision Products, a little machine
shop at 7145 Vineland, in North Hollywood. Mildred, who's 10 years younger, used
to work there, too.
And then there's the foreman of the night shift, Harold Decker, 36, who lived in
a fourplex at
10632
El Dorado, Pacoima.
Mildred says Clay never mistreated her. But there was something about Harold. "I
just met this man, and... well...," she said.
In August 1956, Mildred left Clay and the three children and either moved in
with Harold or got another unit in the same fourplex.
"I was trying to find out through the trial separation if it was an infatuation
or what it was--my attraction to Harold," she sobbed to detectives. "I'm torn
apart inside! I'm all mixed up!"
On Sept. 13, 1956, Clay got his .270-caliber Winchester, drove to the machine
shop and killed Harold with one shot to the chest. He pointed the rifle at the
other workers and threatened to kill them if they moved, then said he was going
to shoot his wife. He fled, but not before one of the workers threw a vise and
struck him in the leg.
Someone at the shop wrote down the license number of Clay's station wagon and
called police, who headed for Mildred's apartment in Sylmar in time to arrest
Clay before he killed anyone else.
Held in the Van Nuys jail, Clay said: "I don't remember anything."
Clay was convicted of second-degree murder at his retrial after the first jury
deadlocked.
On May 1, 1957, Clay was declared insane at the time of the
shooting and transferred to the jurisdiction of Psychopathic Court, never again
to appear in the pages of The Times.
Mildred and her three children are likewise lost to history.
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"What Makes Sammy Speed?"
Made by Sid Davis in cooperation with the Glendora Police Department.
Bad things happen when Sammy gets behind the wheel of a 1956 two-door Buick Special.
Immortal quote: "Even his girlfriend, Wendy, thought his speeding was manly and courageous."
Note Davis' marvelous understatement. Rather than showing the fatal crash, he films a hubcap twirling and fluttering to the curb. Truly, he was the Sergei Eisenstein of drivers' ed films. From the innocent days before "Signal 30" and "Red Asphalt."
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May 1,
1957
Los Angeles
In early 1957, Robert G. Neumann, associate professor of political science at
UCLA, took a six-week tour of the Middle East arranged by The Times that
resulted in a series of articles and an April 30, 1957, speech given as the
William Henry Snyder Lecture at Los Angeles City College.
Historians are often criticized as assuming that anything covered with dust is
significant, and rightly so. What on earth could we learn today from something
written half a century ago by some UCLA professor, especially about a region as
volatile as the Mideast?
But before we get to the message, who's the messenger?
Neumann, an Austrian who was held in a Nazi concentration camp for his political
activities, was a UCLA professor who wrote frequently about world events for The
Times, which in that era had an extremely limited foreign staff.
He headed the UCLA Institute of International and Foreign Studies and was U.S.
ambassador to Afghanistan and Morocco. His brief term as envoy to Saudi Arabia
ended abruptly in 1981 after a clash with President Reagan's secretary of State,
Alexander Haig.
According to The Times: "Neumann believed that his boss was being too soft on
Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin by refusing to say that the Reagan
administration's delay in shipping F-16 fighter planes to Israel was punishment
for its recent raid on Beirut."
Now for Neumann's message. What did he have to say about the Middle East 50
years ago? You might expect some quaint observations. You would be wrong. His
remarks are painfully familiar.
The Times notes: "A peaceful answer to the turbulent Middle East situation must
lie in a five-point program of compromise and trust, and that won't be
easy."
-
Arab states must accept existence of Israel as an integral part of the area.
-
Israel must accept principal responsibility for the return, resettlement or compensation of refugees.
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Both sides must recognize that fear of aggression is mutual and genuine.
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Arab leaders must realize that their frequent blood-curdling statements render a poor service to their cause.
-
Israel must recognize that as long as there is worldwide agitation for Jewish immigration into Palestine, Arab fears of Israel's aggrandizement will persist.
Neumann died in 1999 after serving as senior associate at Georgetown
University's Center for Strategic and International Studies. His son Ronald is
currently U.S. ambassador to Afghanistan.
Neumann's obituary lists the following principles, taken from his entry in Who's
Who in America:
"1. When in doubt, choose the road of courage. The dynamics of action will carry others with you and confound your opponents.
"2. While action must be carefully considered, it is generally better to act than not to act. It is easier to correct the course of action than to move from inaction to action.
"3. Dream big and without restraint. There will always be time afterwards to reduce the scope of your action in the light of confining realities. But if you start dreaming small, you shackle your imagination from the outset.
"4. Have some reasonable and constant ideas as to what you will not put up with and examine your conscience from time to time to check the possible corrosion success might have wrought. It might keep you honest, or at least humble."
Bonus facts:
First mention of Yasser Arafat by a staff writer in The Times: 1968
First mention of Saddam Hussein by a staff writer in The Times: 1970
First mention of Osama bin Laden by a staff writer in The Times: 1997
First mention of Al Qaeda by a staff writer in The Times: 2000
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May 1, 1957
Los Angeles
Now that the law is catching up on the scandal magazines--seven were indicted in
New Jersey Monday--some things can be told.
For several years beaters for Confidential have been trying to hustle L.A.
newspapermen. With all the movie people and celebrities here, this is a fertile
field.
I happen to know several who have been approached. They're competent reporters.
They know where to look and how to go about digging up dirt--or legitimate
material--and how to write it.
One was unemployed. Another was freelancing, a fancy term for being unemployed.
A third was doing publicity, not too successfully. They all could have used the
money, which was generous. But they all declined. It was not particularly a
matter of ethics, an overused word, but just good sense.
To them, working for Confidential would have been accepting money for tainted
writing. They are aware of the typographical leer, the distorted, slanted story
and the slippery writing that are the stock in trade of the scandal magazines.
Unfortunately, others were not so scrupulous.
I always become irked when someone says recklessly of newspaper reporters, "Well
what do you expect? They're just a bunch of trained seals. They write what
they're told to write."
I don't think people half appreciate the care and objectivity that goes into
news writing.
May 1, 1957
Los Angeles
All he wanted to do was keep their dog, Roxy, out of the flowers.
Two weeks ago, aeronautical engineer Neil Thompson, 30, rigged up an electric wire to shock the boxer if
it got near the flowerbed of the home he shared with his wife, Mary Lynn, and
their young daughter, Pamela, at
14342
Figueras in La Mirada.
He plugged the system into an outlet in the garage and staked a wire around the
flowerbed. But he didn't have the right kind of fuse, so he improvised one, assuming that a 40-watt light bulb would provide enough resistance to reduce the current so it wasn't lethal.
When Thompson came home from work that night at 6:30, he went into the garage
and noticed that the system's warning light was on.
Instead of finding the dog, he discovered his wife lying face-down on the ground in a pool
of water with the her chest across the wire and a bump on her head. She had been
watering her flowers with a hose when she received an electric shock.
He called
the Fire Department, but it was too late. When she was declared dead at Carobil
Hospital, Thompson became hysterical and was placed under
sedation. They had been married three years. Until their daughter was born, Mary Lynn Thompson had tutored deaf children at the John Tracy Clinic.
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More dots, on sale at Robinson's.
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I always enjoy looking at the fashion ads in old newspapers. The drawings give the pages a stylish, classic look that is impossible with photographs. (I swear, 1957 must have been the year of the dots in women's fashions).
April
30, 1957
Los Angeles
Some anonymous Times writer had fun with this story about the Exotic Dancers
League. There are all sorts of gags about baring grievances, making motions
and getting things off their chests.
The story says the "gals" wanted to "bump" their weekly pay to $100 a week
($716.53 USD 2006), then they began "grinding" out complaints. And of course they were outnumbered by the press: nine dancers and 20
reporters.
The Times said the organization, headed by Jennie "The Bazoom Girl" Lee, wanted heaters in the
dressing rooms. The group was also trying to impose rules on mixing with patrons
of strip clubs and sought to limit dancers' performances to three a night. And
to raise money? A strip-a-thon.
Here's an ad from the Mirror that was considered too racy for The Times. Look
who's appearing at Strip City, Western and Pico:
Redd
Foxx.
Here's a clip from "Sanford and Son."
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April 29, 1957
Los Angeles
A bus driver who hauls a cargo of housemaids to the Beverly Hills area daily on
his early morning run heard a conversation the other day that made him realize
life isn't always as orderly and legal as people might think.
Two women of about 50 got on his bus downtown and greeted each other warmly.
"I haven't seen you for about a year!" said one. "Where have you been?"
"Oh, I just work once in a while now," said the other. "I've got a baby."
"A baby? You?"
"Oh, someone gave it to me. She couldn't take care of it so she just gave it to
me. I got it when it was a week old."
"Well, where is it now?"
"I leave it with the woman across the street when I work."
"Well, is it yours? Have you adopted it?"
"Oh, we didn't bother about that. The mother didn't want it so we just took it
over. And it's such a pleasure. My husband and I just love it."
April
29, 1957
Los Angeles
When I saw this ad, my first reaction was: "You have GOT to be kidding me."
My next reaction was: "Maybe it's still there!"
Alas, no. The Queens Arms at 16325 Ventura Blvd. has been replaced by a Ralphs
grocery store. And not even a Medieval-themed grocery store. What fun is that?
The Queens Arms was built by John and Chris Skoby, who also operated the Kings
Arms in Toluca Lake. The restaurant was designed by
Martin
Obzina, the art director on "House of Dracula" and "House of Frankenstein."
(OK, to be fair, he received Oscar nominations for "The Flame of New Orleans"
and "First Love.")
Here's restaurant columnist Ken Tichenor's description from the Mirror: "Obzina
built them a castle with turrets and spirals and huge doors and towering flaming
torches outside. Also plenty of parking space.
"Inside, he placed heavy wooden beams overhead and stained wood pickets
separating the three dining rooms and a wine cellar behind the bar and
fireplaces scattered about."
Chris Skoby died in 1998 at the age of 75. As far as I can tell, the Skoby family's last restaurant in
Los Angeles, at 20419
Devonshire in Chatsworth, is now a Denny's.
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April
29, 1957
Los Angeles
 One of my favorite adventures while working on the
1947project
was revisiting old neighborhoods that I found in
The
Times real estate sections from 1907, a feature I called
"Architectural
Ramblings." Exploring the city, I discovered street after street of
100-year-old homes in the Adams district, Monrovia, Sierra Madre (which is
celebrating its centennial this year) and Angeleno Heights.
But since I grew up up in a 1956 split-level tract home, the ubiquitous and
banal 1950s developments held no allure for me. Then I ran across ads for
Rigoletto Village, which offered the prospect of comic relief from true crime.
Did the "Gilda model" have a pool? Did the "Duke model" have an attached garage?
(A close second was
Rebecca
Park at San Fernando Mission Boulevard and Haskell Avenue. Did the "Manderley model" have a boathouse? I suspect not).
First of all, Rigoletto Village is way out in the West Valley,
26
miles from the Times Building. That means it's past Tampa, past Winnetka,
past De Soto, past Canoga and past Topanga Canyon. And because the Ventura
Freeway was still under construction, that meant commuting by car on surface
streets.
Let's stroll see if we can learn anything.
As for architectural significance, here's proof that you can gut a 1950s tract
home and no one will care. If this were a Craftsman bungalow, preservationists
would be linking arms around the building and singing "We Shall Overcome." But since it's by architects Bert
Ameche (yes, that Don Ameche's brother) and Donal Engen, nobody is going to make
a fuss. The owner is adding 1,146 square feet, just about doubling the size of
the home.
As you'd imagine, some houses are in better shape than others. Many of the
garages have been converted to living space. These houses (in a choice of
"Contemporary" or "Hawaiian" design) originally cost $19,950 ($142,947.41 USD
2006) and range today from the low $600,000s to the mid-$700,000, according to
Zillow, although the home at
22861
Calabash sold in January for $371,500. That's Southern California real
estate for you.
And then, in the middle of all these 1950s tract homes, there's this. Would I
want to live here? No, but at least it's not anonymous.
This is what happens when you plant a palm tree too close to the garage.
As I get back on the Ventura Freeway for the drive home, I think about another
aspect to the distance offered by the West Valley, for if Rigoletto Village is
far from downtown Los Angeles, it's even farther from communities like Compton,
Inglewood and
Leimert
Park, which were slowly being integrated in the 1950s. Recall that when
Mayor Tom Bradley and his wife bought their first home in Leimert Park, they had
to use a white intermediary because of deed restrictions.
ps. Today, even here in the West Valley, you can find day laborers gathered on
corners at undercrossings beneath the Ventura Freeway.
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|
|
Recently, Theresa Pinamonti Zeigler recalled:
Larry Harnisch. The leading Black Dahlia expert and a collaborator in the 1947project, Harnisch has been a copy editor at The Times since 1988. He has appeared on many TV shows discussing the Dahlia case, notably "James Ellroy's Feast of Death."
Join him for a spin through old Los Angeles in the Mirror's radio car. Keep your eyes open for Mickey Cohen and Tempest Storm. It's quite a ride.
The reporter's badge belonged to Sid Hughes (1908-1958), legendary reporter who worked at nearly every newspaper in Los Angeles.