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The late Art Seidenbaum on animation (and publicity) genius Jay Ward. Statehood for Moosylvania? As the 52nd state? As the story appeared, Dec. 25, 1962:
 July 18-Aug. 1, 1957
Los Angeles
In the summer of 1957, eight years before the Watts riots, the Los Angeles Sentinel, a weekly newspaper serving the black community, published a three-part series by Stanley Robertson titled: "Does Los Angeles Have a Negro Leader?"
Robertson's conclusion was "No." But the question remains far more interesting than the answer.
The series began with a hypothetical case: another bombing of a home in a white neighborhood that was recently sold to a black family, like the blasts on Dunsmuir in 1951-52.
Robertson noted the painfully inept effort by one white newspaper to get comments on the bombings from representatives of the African American community. "Some of the answers would have made good copy for 'Amos 'n Andy," Robertson said.
The newspaper, he said, indiscriminately interviewed several prominent doctors and businessmen as well as a convicted gambler, a "would-be politician who had a lucrative 'book' going behind his phony real estate office" and a newspaperman who was later convicted of petty theft.
In the event of another bombing or other crisis, Robertson asked: "What single Negro man or woman in Los Angeles will be the person who will come to the front as not only the spokesman and the champion of the bombed family but for Negroes throughout the city? What single Negro man or woman will have enough 'influence' to put the right pressure in the right places so that the investigation of the bombing by police and other authorities will not end as another 'unsolved case?'
"What Negro in Los Angeles will have enough 'contact' with all segments of local radio, television and press so as to ensure that 'all the facts' are made public? What Negro in Los Angeles will be 'powerful enough' to cause city officials to use every resource at their command in breaking the case?
"In short, what Los Angeles Negro will act as the leader of the Negro people in case such an event takes place? Does the third-largest city in the United States have a Negro leader? Is there a Negro in Los Angeles who is as powerful as New York's fiery little borough president, Hulan Jack, Chicago's William Dawson, Montgomery's Martin Luther King ?
"Or is the third-largest Negro settlement in the United States without a recognized leader?"
 The second part of the series portrayed a sadly disillusioned, cynical view of black politicians and ministers who could be had for a price. Robertson also noted the LAPD's failure to treat prominent African Americans with the same respect usually accorded to distinguished whites in a famous 1955 gambling raid on the Pacific Town Club, 4332 W. Adams, in which 123 people, many of them doctors and lawyers, were arrested.
"Do you think the same thing would have happened if the same type of affair was going on, as it very often does, at a white club of comparable stature as the Pacific Town Club?" one man asked.
None of Robertson's sources were identified except by trade, their gender or the amount of time they had been in Los Angeles.
One African American who had lived in Los Angeles for many years said: "When I was a young man in Los Angeles there weren't many Negroes here but we fought for the things we wanted. Things which people today are still enjoying but take for granted. We fought for, and got, Negro teachers in the school system. We opened the city and county departments. We fought for equal treatment from the police.
"But our trouble was leadership. Yes, we had some leaders. Some who were pretty promising until the politicians and people in high places got to them. For secure, well-paying positions or an occasional handout, most of them merely became figureheads doing whatever they were asked to do. There were a few who still fought for what they believed in, but against the money these captive leaders had to spend on an occasional barbecue or drink, they soon disappeared.
"I've watched people of this type come and go. After World War II, with the large influx of Negroes and the great amount of young Negroes who were attending college and branching out into the fields which had been closed to us in my day I thought this would change. But, honestly, it hasn't. The only thing which has changed is the price by which people can be bought off.
"We called those people who could be bought off in my time Uncle Toms. There are still Uncle Toms today, only Uncle Toms with fancier clothes and fatter wallets."
Robertson also described conflict and lack of unity among newcomers and more established blacks. Some in the African American community charged that there was an "old guard" "from the days when the 'Negro vote' could be delivered by one whopping big chicken fry, barbecue or watermelon feed at Lincoln Park or South Park," Robertson said.
There were just as many accusations, he said, that the newer generation of blacks was all too eager to trade their ideals for a Brooks Brothers suit, a T-bird and a home in the suburbs.
The third part of the series described the effects of upward mobility on blacks, the weakness of the local NAACP compared with the Urban League, the Lullaby Guild and the Jack and Jill Organization, and the lack of unity in supporting African American politicians.
One woman told Robertson: "This losing of 'identity' knows no bounds among Negroes who become a success in their chosen profession.... However, most of those who attempt to forget that they are Negroes really don't realize that one of the major factors in their success has been the fact that they are Negroes. Those people who are appointed, or elected, to public office, for instance, aren't naive enough to think that they're holding office because they're qualified?"
As for the NAACP, one unidentified official cited an appearance in Los Angeles by Jackie Robinson as part of a nationwide fundraiser. Although Robinson helped raise a significant amount of money in Oakland, Detroit, Chicago and New York, the man said, in Los Angeles, Robinson couldn't "draw flies." "Can you blame that on the NAACP leadership or the people of Los Angeles?" the official asked.
Robertson quoted a woman who said that although a few "talk their way into being regarded by the two major parties as 'key Negroes,' no one person is anything more than a political gnat." She said: "We tell ourselves that we are much more organized, have made more progress and have more people in higher positions that the Mexican American community here. But what Negro in Los Angeles can we point to who is comparable to City Councilman Edward Roybal, who happens to be of Mexican descent?
"Rather than spending our time fighting among ourselves trying to secure a little plum for ourselves, as seems to happen whenever a Negro announces that he's a candidate for a particular office, why not get together and back one candidate? How many Mexican-Americans do you suppose have run against Roybal?"
As it stands, Robertson's series only states the problems and judging by his remarks, his stories hit a nerve in the African American community, eliciting phone calls and letters. But had I been his editor, I would have asked him to write a final installment exploring possible solutions. And for all I know, perhaps he did in a later story that I have yet to discover in the archives.
Instead, he concluded: "Does Los Angeles have a Negro leader? What do you say? I say no, not now, but a few men who, if they continue in their present manner, are only a few years away."
Unfortunately, Robertson didn't identify them. And eight years later, white Los Angeles will wonder what all the fuss is about down in Watts.
For those wishing to read the entire series, Part 1 appeared July 18, 1957; Part 2, July 25, 1957; Part 3, Aug. 1, 1957. The Sentinel is available on microfilm at the Los Angeles Public Library.
Bonus facts:
- The Los Angeles Sentinel is now owned by Danny Bakewell.
- In 1957, Rodney G. King hadn't even been born.
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Question: Didn't Victor Mature own an appliance store?
Answer: Yes, Victor Mature TV: 10739 W. Pico Blvd. The store later moved to 10916 W. Pico.
These appear to be four rather ordinary West Adams district homes from the late 1920s and early '30s and in many ways they are.
Photographs by Larry Harnisch Los Angeles Times
This is 2435 S. Dunsmuir Ave.
This is 2308 S. Dunsmuir Ave.
This is 2135 S. Dunsmuir Ave.
And this is 2130 S. Dunsmuir Ave.
But on March 16, 1952, 2130 S. Dunsmuir looked like this:
About three months before the explosion, William Bailey, a science teacher at Carver
Junior High School, had moved into the house with his wife, Willa, and
their son, William Jr. The family was black. The neighborhood was
white.
Whoever hit the house also bombed the one across the street, which was
being rented by Ralph Martinez and John W. Potts. Presumably they were
black, although The Times doesn't say so.
On July 25, 1951, 2435 S. Dunsmuir was bombed several days after after it
was sold to Dr. M.D. Matsumoto, a Japanese American physician.
An explosion a few hours earlier ripped 2308 S. Dunsmuir, which was
owned by Sallie H. Mazoway, a real estate agent. "Mrs. Mazoway told
police she had no part in the sale of the Matsumoto house nor had she
sold property to persons not Caucasians," The Times said. "She did say
that she had received anonymous telephone calls on the subject of such
sales."
Although police said the explosion at 2308 S. Dunsmuir was like the others, fire officials said it might have been caused by gas that accumulated beneath the house.
There's one other thing these homes have in common: The bombings were
never solved, despite rewards offered by the NAACP and ACLU soliciting
information.
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July 20, 1957
Riverside
A maid at a Riverside hotel found the battered, nude body of
5-year-old Hiedrun "Heidi" Nicholson bent over double and stuffed into
a closet.
It looked "as if someone had been pounding her with a
hammer," The Times said, quoting another hotel maid. The autopsy showed
she had a collapsed lung from a broken rib and bruises over most of her
body.
The girl and her mother, Felicitas Nicholson, a 31-year-old German war
bride, had checked into the motel with Harry Vern Gates, 40, a Santa
Ana salesman.
When he was questioned about Heidi's death, Gates told police he had taken Nicholson to another motel
in Maywood but insisted that she said her daughter was staying with
friends.
Police discovered that Feliticas was
already in jail after an officer found her lying on the sand in Long
Beach at the end of 36th Place. She was semiconscious and incoherent,
according to police, and her purse contained her last will and
testament, requesting a Christian burial. In later interviews, she told
police she was a commercial artist and that her parents still lived
behind the Iron Curtain in Leipzig, East Germany. She said she had been
married to Air Force Master Sgt. Raymond Nicholson of Stillwater, Okla.
She was found guilty of murder and sentenced to the gas chamber after
Gates testified that Felicitas told her daughter she didn't love her
anymore and was going to get rid of her.
However, Feliticas was the first person to be tried under a new
California law requiring a sanity hearing for those sentenced to die. After a 32-day trial, the jury deadlocked and the judge
declared a mistrial. Halfway through the second sanity trial, the judge
halted the proceedings and declared Felicitas insane, committing her to
Patton State Hospital.
The judge ordered that she be retried if she ever regained her sanity.
And then Feliticas Solveig Nicholson vanished without a trace.
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July 19, 1957
Los Angeles
Minda Lee Birnbaum, 15, and her mother, Blanche
Lewie, 46, had spent most of the day with the divorce lawyer, Murray
Chotiner. In the late afternoon, as Blanche made some phone calls
from the law offices' library, Minda pecked at a typewriter and talked
to Carol Tannis about becoming a secretary.
Then Blanche's estranged husband, Leo, walked into the offices at 202 S. Hamilton Drive,
Beverly Hills. Minda ran to warn her mother, yelling: "He's here!"
Blanche stood between them as he shouted at Minda: "Why are you doing
this to me?"
After an initial confrontation, Blanche told Tannis to call the police, but Leo warned Tannis: "Don't do it."
As Tannis hid behind her desk, Blanche grabbed a pair of scissors but
Leo took them away, pulled a Luger from his belt, held the barrel
against Blanche's stomach and pulled the trigger.
Minda ran
from the room but tripped and sprawled in the doorway. As she lay on
the floor, Leo put the Luger against the 15-year-old's head and pulled
the trigger. When it didn't fire, Tannis fled.
Then, two shots.
Acting on a tip, police found him at a miniature golf course, 1312 S. Arlington Ave.
Forty-year-old liquor store clerk Leo Aaron Lewie was a Polish
Jew who fled to Israel, he told The Times while in jail awaiting trial
on two counts of murder.
He married in 1941, but his wife died
giving birth to his son, Aaron, in 1947. A second marriage ended in
divorce, he said. Then there was the 1948 war with the Arab states.
"Many persons died in the streets," Lewie said. "I crawled through the
streets searching for food for my son."
Lewie and Aaron left for France. "I came to Paris destroyed inside--my heart, my mind," he said.
They
arrived in New York in 1953 on a business visa. Later that year in Los
Angeles, he married Blanche, whose husband had hanged himself in the
basement of their home, leaving her with two children, Minda and
Martin, who was two years younger. "It was an unhappy home from the
start," Lewie said.
Blanche loaned him money to start a
drive-in and they had a son, Robin. With the profits from the drive-in,
the family moved to a home at 2066 Roscomare Road, Bel-Air. In 1956, Lewie sold the restaurant and opened a liquor store at 3901 S. Vermont.
"I
worked long hours, seven days a week," he said. "My wife became moody.
She tells me, 'Leo, I don't care for you or the kids.' That night I
took the children to dinner and a movie. When we came home my wife hit
me. I slapped her. She called the police. They arrest me. Later my
stepdaughter Minda tells police I molested her."
The domestic violence counts were dropped, but he was charged with molesting Minda. When he was finally released on bail, the family had gone
into hiding from him.
Lewie insisted the molestation charges were Blanche's ploy to get a
divorce. "My wife said if I give her everything the charges will be
dropped," he said. So he agreed. But instead of dropping the charges,
Blanche was trying to have him deported, he said.
 "She pushed me, pushed me, pushed me!" he shouted!
He
bought a Luger, planning to go to Chotiner's office and say that he
would kill himself if the charges weren't dropped. Instead, he found
Minda and Blanche.
"She grabbed a pair of scissors and came at
me," he said. "I lost my head and pushed on the trigger. I put the gun
to my head and pulled the trigger again. But there were no bullets
left."
(Police said that when he was arrested he had a full magazine of ammunition plus some shells in his pocket).
One of the key contentions at the trial was that Lewie had been
molesting Minda for two years, but the medical experts disagreed
completely. Dr. Charles Demos, a Santa Monica gynecologist who examined
Minda before she was killed, said he found evidence that she had been
molested. Dr. Gerald K. Ridge, who performed the autopsy, said he found
no evidence that Minda had sexual relations.
In an attempt to determine the truth, investigators exhumed Minda's body from her crypt at Beth Olam Cemetery, 900 N. Gower St.
Over objections by defense attorney Gladys Root, Dr. Bruce David Stern
testified that his findings "were compatible with the contention that
the girl had been repeatedly violated."
Leo Aaron Lewie was
convicted on two counts of second-degree murder March 27, 1958. He died
in San Francisco on April 25, 1983, at the age of 66.
Murray Chotiner, a longtime adviser to Richard Nixon, died in 1974 in
Washington, D.C., of injuries from a car accident. He was 64.
More information on the Lewie case is available at the Jewish Coalition Against Sexual Abuse/Assault.
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July 19, 1957
Los Angeles
Hours after Liberace gave a deposition in his $25-million libel suit against Confidential magazine, two masked intruders attacked his mother in the garage of Liberace's home, 15405 Valley Vista Blvd., Sherman Oaks.
Frances Liberace Casadonte, (68, according to the Mirror; 65, according
to The Times) said she was on her way to burn some trash in a backyard incinerator when she was
attacked by two men.
"They had black hoods with slits for their eyes. They also had some
kind of covering, probably stockings, over their shoes," Casadonte told
police. "I screamed and they chased me into the kitchen. There, one of
them grabbed me, hit me or threw me down on the floor. One of them
kicked me in the back. I heard one of them say, 'This will give him
something to laugh about.' Then I fainted."
A doctor says Casadonte's heavy corset may have
protected her from being badly injured when the attackers kicked her.
Liberace was not informed about the assault until he finished his
midnight show at the Moulin Rouge, The Times said.
A family spokesman said: "I feel this whole thing is connected with the Confidential suit. Somebody is trying to frighten us."
In response, guards were hired to protect the home of Liberace, as well
as the home of his brother George in Encino, and that of his brother Rudy in Van Nuys.
According to The Times, several people were questioned in the assault, but no one was ever arrested.
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July 19, 1957
Los Angeles
The jury convicted Wallace LeRoy Schiers of second-degree murder on July 18, 1957. But Schiers continued to insist that he did not kill his wife. He said: "I have nothing on my conscience. Somewhere along the line I have got to be exonerated. I am not guilty."
He was sentenced to five years to life in prison, serving four years in prison and four years' probation.
But the story is not over. Schiers appealed his conviction while in prison and although his case was rejected by the California Supreme Court, he continued to fight the case even after six years of freedom.
The basis of Schiers' argument was police testimony about his polygraph test, which was inadmissible in court. Schiers acted as his own attorney, arguing before the state Court of Appeal that the judge's order to strike the testimony and instructions to the jury to ignore it were not enough. Schiers' argued that since the polygraph testimony had come up in his preliminary trial, Deputy Dist. Atty. Evan Lewis knew about it and should have taken steps to prevent it from being introduced in court.
Although the Court of Appeal rejected his plea and the state Supreme Court refused to hear his case, state Supreme Court Justice Jesse W. Carter wrote a dissenting opinion saying: "By this decision the California judiciary invited repetition of such open debauchery of basic fairness to the discredit of the bench and bar. In my opinion it amounts to denial of due process of law."
Schiers' next action was to claim that he had not been furnished with counsel and had to act as his own attorney. He also tried to take the matter before the federal courts but was unsuccessful.
Finally, after a prolonged legal battle, the Court of Appeal reversed Schiers' conviction in 1971 because of the inadmissible testimony about the polygraph results.
"The court noted the police officer's testimony did not come as a surprise to the prosecution," The Times said. "An augmentation of the appeal record allowed by the appellate court showed that police had referred to the lie-detector test in Schiers' preliminary hearing before trial.
"Thus, in the court's view, the prosecutor was on notice and should have guarded against any such testimony being presented in the presence of the jury at the trial.
"The fact that he did not indicated that the error was intentional and invited by the prosecution."
"The error was so prejudicial that the judgment must be reversed," the court ruled.
Wallace LeRoy Schiers reestablished himself in the aerospace industry. He died Oct. 5, 1994 in Nevada.
Note: I had two votes for not guilty, no votes for guilty. Thanks, gentlemen.
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Native Angelenos will, of course, recognize that this photo was taken at the end of Reseda Boulevard about 1947. The man with the model airplane is W. Gilbert Clark, now UCLA professor emeritus of physics. Thanks for sharing!
July 18, 1957
Don Bailey Jr. has no red tab on his rear license plate.
He applied for it like other motorists during the renewal period but
never received it. Apparently it was lost in the processing at
Sacramento or in the mail.
He is stopped almost every day and asked about the tab.
He explains the situation to the officers. He shows them his canceled
check for $84 ($601.88 USD 2006) dated Feb. 4 and a memo that he is authorized to drive
the car, a 1955 Olds, License BBS664. He tells them this has been
verified by the Inglewood and L.A. offices of the Motor Vehicle
Department and he has been instructed to carry the check and memo with
him at all times until the matter is cleared.
The officers sympathize and let him go.
On July 7, at about 1:30 a.m. Bailey was stopped near 39th and
Crenshaw. His wife, sister-in-law and sleeping child were in the car.
One officer put a flashlight on his rear plate and asked to see his 1957 license. Bailey handed him his "evidence."
The officer was unconvinced and wrote a citation. He listed three
counts--wrong address on operator's license, lights out of adjustment
and "no evidence of '57 registration."
Bailey refused to sign the citation. Then, as he puts it, "We both got pretty hot."
The officer said he'd have to take him in if he didn't sign the ticket. Bailey remained adamant.
The officer handcuffed him behind his back and Bailey told his wife to drive their car home.
At University Station, Bailey was given the usual alternative--sign the ticket or be booked in jail. He finally decided to sign.
He explains, "The reason I didn't want to sign it was that to do so
would be conceding that I was driving my car illegally and that I'd
thrown away my $84."
When the case comes up in court, Bailey plans to plead not guilty.
CULTURAL NOTE--Remember
the ubiquitous wartime phrase "Kilroy was here?" Well, in the men's
room of a Hollywood Boulevard restaurant-bar, reports Tom Lempertz,
someone has written, "In hoc loc Kilrex erat."
CURE FOR INSOMNIA
My body is ready for slumber
Except for my worrisome head;
It's best to abandon the blankets
And watch the late movie instead.
--Martha Manheim
Mildred Hall, 44, who vanished Nov. 15, 1956, and was the subject of a
Paul Coates column, resurfaced in April 1959, posing as many baffling
questions as she did when she disappeared after leaving a note for her
husband, Harold, that she was running some errands and would be back
soon.
Hall was identified by Sister Mary Jeanette at the Notre Dame Academy, 2911 Overland Ave.,
where she went in search of information about her four children. Hall
told reporters that she had wandered the world, wondering who she was,
until she suffered a stroke and cerebral hemorrhage three weeks earlier
in a Ventura hospital.
"I always prayed. God, how I prayed someone would recognize me," said
Hall, an actress who gave up her movie career to raise a family.
"The first thing I remembered was sitting in a bus station in Meridian,
Miss., with 33 cents in my pocket and a ticket for New Orleans," she
told The Times.
She worked as a cocktail waitress in New Orleans, but after being
robbed apparently blacked out and found herself on a ship bound for
Manila. Next, she stowed away on a ship to Havana, she said.
"There, I got a job as a shill in a casino and earned enough money to
fly to Key West Fla., where I worked for six months as a singer. Then I
teamed up with a magician and his wife and traveled across the
country," Hall said.
Somehow, she got to Ventura, where she was hospitalized. While she was gone, her husband divorced her, The Times said.
There's no further word in The Times on Hall or what became of her
children. It's impossible to sort out all the Mildred Halls in the
California death records and the Social Security Death Index. She had a brother, Bob, who was a lifeguard in Santa Monica in the 1950s. Her mother, Adeline M. Lucas, died Feb. 24, 1976. We also know that her father, Charles M. Lloyd (real name Charles Lloyd Maude),
an actor in silent films and vaudeville, died in Camarillo State
Hospital in 1948, so there may have been some predisposition toward mental
illness. But that is only a guess. As Coates said: "Mildred Hall is not
a simple person to explain."
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July 17, 1957
Our friend, Mr. Atom, at the Santa Susana Field Lab.
July 17, 1957
Los Angeles
The painful comparison: "800 Negroes Lose Jobs" and "Deep South
Editors Here, See Race Tension Ending." And to make things even worse,
the Southern editors were entirely well-meaning and sincere.
The Mirror interviewed editors from a variety of U.S. newspapers who
were in Los Angeles to attend "Editor's Day" at Disneyland the week
after the American Society of Newspaper Editors convention in San
Francisco.
Although the story mostly gathered the editors' impressions of Los
Angeles, it led with the views of George Chaplin of the New Orleans
Item and Grover C. Hall of the Montgomery, Ala., Advertiser.
Chaplin, a former editor of Pacific Stars and Stripes
who was later editor in chief at the Honolulu Advertiser, said: "I
believe there is too much generalization about the race problem--which
is a national and an international problem, rather than one confined to
the South. There is a tremendous body of goodwill in the South and it
is found among the moderates. But too much of the news is being made by
extremists since the moderate, by nature, is reluctant to grab the mike
or the headline."
What's even more interesting are the remarks by Hall, who won a Pulitzer Prize in 1928 for editorials attacking racial and religious intolerance. According to a 1941 Time magazine article, Hall broke the power of the Klan in Alabama.
According to the Mirror: "Hall said his city is proud of its Negro
population, and that they are fitting into the community from an
economical standpoint.
"Of course," he said, "colored people are leaving the rural sections in
spectacular fashion. However, those that remain manage to contribute to
the community in a very satisfactory manner.
"We have no violence. The colored people, for the most part, are resolving the problem themselves. Our part is to help."
Let me repeat that: The editor of the Montgomery, Ala., Advertiser says
there's no violence. In 1957. And the Mirror let him get away with it.
Jan. 6, 1957
Jan. 11, 1957
Jan. 28, 1957
May 31, 1957
We don't have any problems in Montgomery. No sir. "The colored people, for the most part, are resolving the problem themselves."
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July 17, 1957
Los Angeles
With the cancellation of the Navaho cruise missile program, North American Aviation made plans to lay off 15,600 employees, nearly a third of the workforce at its plant in Downey.
Efforts
were made to find jobs for some of the workers at other aerospace firms
such as Douglas, which was making the DC-6 and DC-7, Hughes, Lockheed
and Northrop. The State Department of Employment was also staying open
in the evenings to help place workers, the Mirror said.
"But
the consensus appears to be that only the engineers and some highly
skilled types--such as machinists, tool designers and makers--will find
it easy to get new jobs," the Mirror said. "For the ordinary aircraft
worker, it will be tough sledding. And there is still the possibility
that additional thousands will be laid off as the result of
cancellation by NAA of more than $35,000,000 in orders placed with
subcontractors."
The layoffs were difficult for all employees,
but the California Eagle, a weekly newspaper serving the African
American community, focused on about 800 black workers who lost their jobs. (And in case there is any doubt, the headline above is from the Eagle, certainly not any of the white newspapers in Los Angeles).
"Some of the laid-off Negro workers report that they have been
offered jobs at other North American plants--as janitors," the Eagle
said. "Some of the workers interviewed by the Eagle stated that Negro
men and women who have been working in skilled jobs and who have
seniority have been offered employment at other North American
facilities through the Los Angeles area, but not at their customary
skills.
"According to these reports, at least two of the very
few Negro women employed as electronics assemblers have been asked to
return as janitors--cleaning bathrooms, keeping areas clean, etc.
"These
workers also say that at least one Negro engineer, one toolmaker and
one friction tester have also been told they could be hired as
janitors."
Workers harshly criticized the Eisenhower
administration for scrapping the Navaho, the Eagle said. "Said one
worker: 'There's not a Republican in this end of town.' "
Defense
Secretary Charles Wilson, the former president of General Motors, was
particularly disliked, the Eagle said, because a GM division near
Milwaukee had been given a large missile contract.
"Most of the Negroes who worked in Downey lived in Watts and Compton,
Downey being a lily-white town," the Eagle said, quoting Nate Brown,
head of the United Auto Workers unit representing employees in the
missile program.
Brown denied charges that there was discrimination in laying off black
employees. "While some Negroes were hit as the 'last hired,' for the
most part Negroes fared about the same as whites," Brown said.
"About
90% of the black employees at North American had been hired in the
lowest-paying jobs as janitors, laborers and in the shipping and
receiving departments. A number of these men, however, have been
upgraded, largely as a result of union pressure," Brown said.
Although
the Navaho missile was canceled, some of the rocket propulsion,
supersonic airframe and guidance technology was used in later
projects.
Note: North American eventually lowered the number of layoffs to 12,000.
Photograph courtesy of NASA.
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Photograph by Larry Harnisch Los Angeles Times
Here's something fun to do on a Saturday morning: Meet friends for
breakfast at a restaurant where a drunk movie actress plowed her new
convertible through the front window in 1957.
The friends in question were Brady Potts and Mary McCoy and the restaurant was Jan's, 8424 Beverly Blvd., where Gail Russell trapped the janitor under her car when she jumped the curb and crashed into the building.
When I read the story I assumed Russell was in the parking lot and
simply hit the gas pedal instead of the brakes. But no. After looking
at the height of the curb and width of the sidewalk, I decided she must
have been flying. And as there's no side street directly across Beverly
Boulevard from where she struck the restaurant, I can't imagine how she
managed to hit it so squarely perpendicular. But she did.
Here's the counter, 1957:
Los Angeles Times
And the counter today:
Photograph by Larry Harnisch Los Angeles Times
Since you asked, Jan's is a pretty nice breakfast place. It was a bit
of a brain-teaser that early in the morning to ponder why a half-order
of French toast costs more than the jumbo French toast, but the three
of us put our heads together and figured it out. Definitely worth
another visit.
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July 16, 1957
Account 727-1 in the auditor's office of the Southern Pacific is known within the company as the "Conscience Fund."
It consists of money sent in by people for services rendered but unpaid
for. An average of $200 a year is contributed, mostly anonymously.
Many such conscience cases are of long standing. Recently, a man sent
in $250 as restitution for tools he took from the company in 1896.
A more typical donation came from "A Patron"-- a $1 bill for a train ride beyond the point called for by his ticket.
Another made good the freight charge on a bicycle he sneaked aboard a train.
Last month, this letter came from a woman of 83:
"In the late summer of 1887 with an uncle and aunt who were supporting
and caring for me, I came from East Portland, Ore., to Pasadena, Cal.,
tourist or second class. I came on a half-fare ticket. My birthday was
in December 1874, making me between 12 and 13. If the conductor had
asked for full fare for me I think my uncle would have paid it. He died
many years ago. I wish a clear conscience concerning this. Kindly
inform me what amount for restitution will be satisfactory to you."
After checking, the SP wrote her that the difference between the fare
paid for her and an adult ticket in 1887 would have been $17.82. She
promptly forwarded a check for this amount.
Realizing these people find it important to clear their minds of such
obligations, the company accepts these contributions and, when names
and addresses are given, commends them.
A NEW PROGRAM on mental illness, "Focus on Sanity," will be presented tomorrow on KNXT.
While at Patton State Hospital documenting the series, a camera crew
focused on a woman patient who had been committed in 1908 and was
singing. Another patient approached her and asked her for a cigarette.
The new "star" looked witheringly at her old buddy and said, "Don't bother me now--I'm on television." The fever gets them all.
AROUND TOWN --As
Jacquelin Molinaro passed Wilshire and Western the other night a
workman on a ladder changing the marquee on the Wiltern Theater called
out to the driver of a red Messerschmitt (a sample, above). "Hey, bub, what is it going
to be when it grows up?"
Photograph from sixtiescity.com
July 15, 1957
SUBJECT'S NAME: Mildred Dolores Hall.
SUBJECT'S DESCRIPTION: Age, 42, height, 5 feet, 6 inches. Weight, 118 lbs., Red-blond hair. Brown eyes. Slim-medium build.
Any person with information as to the subject's whereabouts is
requested to contact the Missing Persons Section of the Los Angeles
Police Department.
Mildred Hall is not a simple person to explain.
She was born of theatrical parents and she knew the business well.
Stars and industry pioneers of 25 years ago were personal friends of
hers.
And she herself came as close to becoming a name actress as anyone can without--that is--actually doing so.
Whether she would have made it is foolish to argue.
Because at the peak of her beauty, Mildred Hall quit the business to become a wife.
It was the role she wanted. And, for the last 18 years, she apparently
played it well. She found many friends and was an active and devoted
mother to her four children.
She was, until eight months ago: Nov. 15, 1956.
What happened on that date, or since, nobody knows.
In an effort to learn--to find a logical theory--I contacted more than a dozen of her close associates and friends.
All told me what they knew. Many had personal theories. But each one's report made the puzzle even more complex.
It was as if Mildred Hall were 12 different persons.
I'll throw out the supposition and present what I believe to be fact.
And I hope that somewhere in it lies the key to the case of the most
complex missing person I have yet encountered.
Mildred Hall's movements on the morning of Nov. 15 are established:
Shortly before 8 o'clock, she drove her three oldest children to
school. Then she took her youngest boy, Tommy, 4, shopping with her.
She bought groceries and a pair of shoes for her 16-year-old. She went
to the bank and drew out $100, apparently to do her Christmas shopping.
she returned home between 10 and 11.
Tommy went out to play and Mrs. Hall's husband, Harold, who had worked the night before, was asleep.
He awakened shortly after noon and was told by his son that Mildred had gone back to town again.
Hall says he still has the note which his wife left for him on the kitchen table.
"I have an appointment uptown at 12:30 p.m. Shouldn't be more than an
hour at most. I have something very important to talk to you about.
Lots of love, Millie."
Mildred Hall never had the "very important" talk with her husband.
Five weeks later, her car was found. It was parked in the 2000 block of
South Genesee Street, some three miles from her Palms home at 3666
Keystone Ave.
Police report that the keys were in it, and so was her wallet with all
her identification. There was no money found, but on the floor lay her
Christmas shopping list.
Thorough investigation of the vehicle revealed no other clues.
Hall reports one other discovery which struck him as strange. "When she
disappeared she left her wedding ring home on the dresser. Never
before, to my knowledge, had she taken it off."
He also says that his wife never suffered loss of memory or blackouts in his presence.
Other friends say that they had witnessed her blackouts. But that they started only shortly before she disappeared.
But strangest of all was the following report by Hall:
"It was pure coincidence.
"About two hours after she left had left home--before, of course,
anyone had any reason to suspect she'd be missing--a friend of ours saw
her shopping.
"The friend walked up to her and addressed her by name.
"But Millie just looked kind of blank. And she turned and walked away."
[Note: To be continued--lrh]
July 16, 1957
Los Angeles
At a field lab in the Santa Susana Mountains, an
experimental nuclear reactor has begun generating electricity for San Fernando Valley housewives, thanks to our friend,
Mr. Atom, the Mirror says.
Housewives "wouldn't know it if it sparked before their eyes, for
electricity is electricity the world around," the Mirror says. "It's
just that the source of the heat which generates the juice is
different." The reactor "marked a peacetime application of a terrifying
scientific fact--that when you split an atom, a lot of power, a lot of
heat is generated."
After explaining how a nuclear reactor works, the Mirror noted: "The
small amount of uranium in the reactor will last three years!"
Of course, it's impossible today to say "Santa Susana Field Lab" without adding "Superfund site," a subject far too complex for this humble blog.
But let's take a look the Sodium Reactor Experiment that began in 1957.
Before it was deactivated in 1966 and eventually dismantled at an
expense of $13 million (more than twice its original cost), the reactor
suffered a meltdown in 1959 that released 260 to 459 times the
radioactivity spilled at Three Mile Island.
Oops.
According to a story from 1979, when officials of Atomics
International--a division of Rockwell International--acknowledged the
20-year-old meltdown, "13 of the reactor's 43 uranium fuel rods
ruptured or suffered some degree of melting in the July 13, 1959,
accident."
Although technical publications had discussed the incident for years, the meltdown was never reported in the news media.
"It was a messy accident, but I'm not aware of any evidence that it endangered the public," Theodore B. Taylor of the President's Commission on Three Mile Island, said in 1979. "It was nothing like Three Mile Island."
(I'm assuming Taylor was not referring to the magnitude of the release but the fact that the spill occurred at a remote site rather than in a populated area).
Briefly, the reactor's coolant system became clogged due to a leak, the
fuel rods overheated and spilled a "massive" amount of radioactive
fission products, The Times said in 1979.
"Despite numerous indications that something was wrong inside," The
Times said, "Atomics International continued to run the reactor at low
power for two weeks after the accident, shutting it down July 26, 1959.
Many original documents on Santa Susana Field Lab are available here.
Email me
July 16, 1957
Los Angeles
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you have heard the witnesses and seen
the evidence. Now you must decide whether to find Wallace LeRoy
Schiers, 34, guilty of second-degree murder in the killing his wife,
Lillian, 39, on or about Feb. 12, 1957.
Let me summarize the case briefly:
Wallace and Lillian Schiers (shown at right) were married
Feb. 18, 1952. (Mr. Schiers had been married at least once before and
Mrs. Schiers had three previous marriages). On the evening of Feb. 11,
1957, shortly before their fifth wedding anniversary, Wallace and
Lillian Schiers had been drinking heavily in a bar, then went to their
home at 10914 Gaynor Ave., Granada Hills, where they drank a fifth of Scotch, a pint of Scotch and a six-pack of beer.
Mr. Schiers also testified that he and Mrs. Schiers had been working on
their income tax returns that evening. Witnesses have testified that
Mr. and Mrs. Schiers recently took out a $2,800 loan ($20,062.79 USD
2006) to put a sunken living room in their home and have said that the
Schierses frequently argued about money.
Mr. Schiers and Mrs. Schiers kept separate bedrooms. Mr. Schiers, a
foreman at the Bendix plant in North Hollywood, testified that he went
to bed about 1 a.m. on Feb. 12, 1957, and left for work about 6:30 a.m.
without checking on Mrs. Schiers. Mr. Schiers testified that when he
went to bed, Mrs. Schiers was in the bathroom.
Two friends, Louise Peterson and Mildred Butcher, described finding
Mrs. Schiers' body after she did not answer repeated phone calls. Mrs.
Peterson and Mrs. Butcher said they entered the Schierses home about 9
a.m. through an unlocked side door after seeing Mrs. Schiers' car in
the garage. They found her nude body sprawled on the floor of her
bedroom with her arms outstretched. There was no signs of a struggle
and detectives speculate that Mrs. Schiers may have been killed in her
sleep.
Detectives said Mrs. Schiers had been beaten in the head with a heavy
instrument like a lug wrench or a hatchet. Her bed was soaked with
blood and there were blood spatters on the floor and ceiling. Medical
experts testified that death occurred about 11 p.m. and was caused by a
wound to Mrs. Schiers' left temple 2 inches long and 1 1/4 inches
wide.
Investigators did not find any blood residue in Mrs. Schiers' bathroom,
but found evidence of blood in Mr. Schiers' bathroom. Investigators
also said that tests for blood on Mr. Schiers were positive.
Mrs. Ramona Allen, who lives in the home adjoining the Schierses'
property, said that about 7:30 a.m. on the morning of the killing, she
found the gate to the fence separating the two lots had been battered
down. Mrs. Allen testified that about 3 a.m. that morning, she heard "a
lot of commotion as if someone
was prowling in her garage. "I heard an awful crash," she said.
Her husband went outside to check, but didn't see anything. Mrs. Allen
said that dogs in the neighborhood barked for about an hour.
Mrs. Schiers' mother, Mrs. Sally Johnson, testified that when she
visited the home after the killing, she noted that two heavy glass
candlesticks were missing from her daughter's bedroom and a massive
green bottle was missing from the kitchen. Medical examiner Dr.
Frederick Newbarr testified that the wounds on Mrs. Schiers' body were
star-shaped, the same design as the missing candlesticks.
Mr. Schiers has insisted that he is not guilty of killing his wife and
defense experts note that the positive test for blood is imperfect and
will also register false positives for a variety of other common
substances.
In addition, a polygraph test administered to Mr. Schiers by the Los
Angeles Police Department was inconclusive. However, a police officer
testified that Mr. Schiers was told that the test showed he was guilty
and Mr. Schiers answered that there was something wrong with the
machine.
Please recall that the defense objected to police testimony about the
polygraph results because they are inadmissible in court. The judge
has instructed you to disregard any testimony about the polygraph
results.
Your verdict?
Email me
July 15, 1957
Farther and farther go the freeways, preceded by roaring monsters which
sweep aside or reduce to rubble everything in their paths, then claw
and shape the earth. But all is not lost.
Every Tuesday, Lenard Kester takes his art class sketching. For this
month's subject, he selected the quickly disappearing old houses in the
path of the new San Diego (Sepulveda) Freeway south of Santa Monica
Boulevard.
The first week all was serene as his pupils, mostly housewives, worked at their easels.
Last Tuesday, the second session, Lenard noticed that a group of neat
little cottages with orderly gardens several blocks south of their
location had been pushed into huge piles of unrecognizable rubble.
Meanwhile, a chugging bulldozer half a block from where they were
painting gave portent of evil things to come.
Clearly, the houses and backgrounds his students had half-finished would be gone before this week's session.
But during the afternoon the contractor on the freeway job came by to
see what they were doing. He ventured the opinion that one pupil's
painting looked like a Van Gogh.
Upshot was that he gave orders that the section was not to be disturbed until the paintings were completed.
I DIDN'T REALIZE it until John Grover, the gourmet, told me, but L.A. has long been a tripeless desert.
But you know how gourmets are--sneaky. So John, a tripe lover from way
back, has wheedled Rocco Guarino, cook at Anthony's across from City
Hall, into putting tripe on the menu one day each week.
"This is definitely a cultural breakthrough," gloats John.
Me, I can't tell the difference between trip and octopus.
AT RANDOM--A man about to board an elevator in a Spring Street building asked Ann, the operator, "Is this the champagne flight?"
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