Here's a postcard of the Chalon Restaurant, 1455 W. Manchester, a business that appeared in a 1955 Times story about fines that were imposed for smog violations. The restaurant was cited for operating an incinerator after a permit had been denied.
Daily Mirror regulars will recall that I often say the transportation plans done over the last century for Los Angeles would fill a library. OK, I found the library. This is so cool!
A couple of new drinking buddies decide to go joyriding in an airplane--and run out of gas ... Former President Truman blames Republicans for the weak economy ... President Eisenhower's vacation plans draw questions--and controversy ... Turmoil in the Mideast ... And Narciso Palacio goes out for a night of drinking, forgets where he parked the car and only when he takes a taxi home discovers that he left one of his children in the back seat.
As noted elsewhere, I usually don't republish editorials because they are often outdated and are frequently embarrassing. This one is an especially good example. The Times takes the position that the nation doesn't need a federal anti-lynching law. Speaking of editorials, here's a front-page diatribe against union leader Dave Beck ... A witness says Capt. Earle Kynette was near Harry Raymond's garage before the bombing that nearly killed him ... Racing at Santa Anita ... And Neville Chamberlain says that Britain must act without delay to "make friends" with Mussolini and Hitler lest it be drawn into another Great War. On the jump, San Quentin selects a pig to be the first victim of its new gas chamber, the new method of execution that will replace hanging.
Quote of the day: "The time is coming when Britain must make a stand and I pray to God that, because of our unwise past, we will not be left to make that stand alone." Winston Churchill
Feb. 23, 1908
The neighborhood of Kingsley Drive and Wilshire Boulevard is all commercial buildings now, but here's an example what was there 100 years ago:
Feb. 23, 1908
It's Sunday in 1908, and The Times publishes its weekend features, including the comics. Here's "Buster Brown" one of the most prominent strips of the era. It featured young Buster, who loved to play practical jokes, and his dog, Tige. Note that the artist got a full page and, of course, the pages were much bigger then--ample room for the artwork.
Of course, the lament comes from those who have reached the dangerous age of reminiscence.
The fellows on the copy desk were discussing the subject, and Mike Molony recalled one of the pleasures of his boyhood.
On occasion, especially on bright spring days, he and a few friends at Colton High School would suddenly get the feeling that they had absorbed about all the education they could handle and would take off for the hills in his topless Model T Ford phaeton.
THEIR FAVORITE ITINERARY was chugging up Cajon Pass, turning off into Horsethief Canyon and steaming up the grade until the flat desert wasteland unfolded limitlessly before them.
There was no real road, only two deep ruts in firmly baked sand and clay, made by wagons of a prior era.
The boys would set the gas lever at 20 mph, sprawl luxuriously in the back seat, inhale the fresh desert air and let the Model T run itself.
Now and then the old bus would jump out of the ruts and head crazily off at an angle. The boys would leap for the wheel and get it back in the ruts. These detours merely added a sporting touch to the gay irresponsibility of the ride.
The ultimate ecstasy was bringing to this sybaritic orgy a cheap pumpkin pie and devouring it as the car careened driverless across the lonely desert.
Match that, Elvis.
SPEAKING OF education, this unfinished composition, written on notebook paper in what looks like junior high school penmanship, was found on the street by Eunice M.: "What I like best. I like spelling best. Other people like spelling because some times people do not."
SNAKE, the caddie at Bel-Air Country Club, has reported in with a tale which might be titled, "The Cooling Off of a Hot-Shot."
It has to do with a familiar type--the blowhard from out of state who finds fault with everything.
He hit a terrific tee shot on the fourth hole, turned to his caddie, who he'd been giving a bad time, and asked, "What do they generally use here to get to the green."
"Well," said the caddie, "Sam Snead used the five iron here."
The fellow grabbed a five iron out of the bag and hit the ball with full power. It went hard and true but landed about 40 yards short of the green. He threw a disgusted look at the caddie and snarled, "I didn't even get close."
"Neither did Sam Snead," said the caddie innocently.
A YOUNG MAN recently mustered out of the Navy after two years and uanble to find a job has returned to college to learn a trade. As he puts it, "So when I graduate I'll know what kind of work I'm out of."
AROUND TOWN--Several high school boys made a killing during Wednesday's flood in Centinela Valley. The water was a foot deep on one side of a railroad track hump at 147th and Grevillea, five feet deep on the other. When cars stalled they offered a push with their jalopy for $5. But one dirty guy got his push and drove off without paying.
The elephant lifter on "People Are Funny" was Jack Walsh, not Mark Evans, as reported here. Jack, 5-9 and 185 pounds, holds the world's lift record--4,235 pounds.
The conflict between science and religion--subject of many Sunday sermons--has been quietly resolved on this paper. Versatile Omar Garrison is both science and religion editor.
Celebration of the 50th founding of the film industry last Dec. 12 was in error, insists Sam Stark of Laguna. In his upcoming "Theater: A to Z" encyclopedia, Stark says "The Count of Monte Cristo" was made in 1907 in Ocean Park and the first picture made in L.A. was the Selig Co.'s "The Sultan's Power," starring Hobart Bosworth in 1909.
Feb. 22, 1958
And today, judging from the state unemployment reports, there are about 150,000 impatient men in Los Angeles. Men and women, I should say. Many of them with families to feed and clothe.
For the past half-year, there's been a rumble of discontent among them.
But since this week's case of Tom Garrett, it's reached proportions of a roar.
They're mad--damned mad--at our unemployment laws, at the red tape wound into them, and at the underlings who administer them.
Following my Tuesday column about the state employment department's refusal to pay Garrett his $40 weekly unemployment insurance because he was held hostage by two escaped criminals and therefore "not available for work," complains against the unemployment pay setup haven't stopped.
While I haven't had time to check out a lot of them, most of them came from persons who sounded pretty reasonable.
There were complaints which indicated that there are a few rather sadistic persons working in our state employment offices.
There were lots of cases where the individual obviously had a moral right to draw his check, but because of technicalities in our law, he wasn't able to.
There was the man who lost his weekly payment because he had to go to the dentist.
There was the woman who spent a day attending the funeral of her infant child and failed to report to the clerk that she hadn't been available for work that day.
As a result, I'm told, her checks were suspended for five weeks.
There were other cases of lost records, misfiled checks, unreasonable bullying and plain "grudge" actions on the part of employees--all resulting in some pretty severe hardships for various applicants.
I received some extremely bitter letters this week. Too many to permit me to disregard all of them as the work of disgruntled cranks.
Among comments about various state employment offices were:
"Why must we be stomped on, degraded and made to feel like we are on charity just because an aircraft company's production line fell off and we found ourselves without a job?''
"Although there was nothing in the house to eat, the humiliation I endured to pull a few dollars from the employment office (dollars rightfully mine) was more than I could take. I'd rather starve than go back, and I guess that's exactly what they were hoping for."
The day is here when there are an awful lot of persons sincerely in need and in search of a job. Many are people who never before had to hold out their hands for assistance.
I realize that state employment offices have to be on guard continually against a small percentage of professional goldbricks, but I don't think that's a just excuse to mistreat and degrade others who file for unemployment insurance.
I'm also certain that the majority of those employed in the offices are conscientious and courteous workers. In my rounds as a reporter, I've run into some really fine and dedicated persons.
I certainly don't want to lay any blame on them.
But when the complaints stack up like they have during the last few days, I can only conclude that something is very, very wrong.
If a man like Tom Garrett can't collect unemployment insurance because he was held hostage, obviously part of the fault is in the law itself.
The other part seems to be divided between the inefficiency and indifference of certain employees and the impatience and pride of those who must submit to it.
And frankly, I find it hard to blame a hungry man for being impatient.
I was 7 1/2 at the time of Judith Mae Andersen's murder, and living on the South Side of Chicago. I remember the adults being very upset, this murder following the murders of the Grimes sisters and the Schuessler/Peterson boys.
In the early '90s, while working as an RN in a Chicago suburban hospital, I had a patient named Ralph Andersen. When he saw my name tag, JUDY, it must have opened a floodgate of emotions, for he was Judith Mae's father. He talked about the night she disappeared, and how he identified her by the severed head. He had insisted on identifying her so that his wife would be spared.
He spoke of his daughter in a loving way. I seem to remember the way he talked about her, that she was a spirited girl, and when warned by her parents to stay out of the alley, she would dismiss the parental fears.
The most chilling thing he told me was that he knew who the murderer was, but couldn't prove it, and never divulged that name. He would periodically cry while telling me this gruesome story. I felt so angry for him and wished I could have helped him in some way. It was clear that this tragedy had torn this family in two.
--Thanks so much for sharing. This is one of the most tragic stories I know from the 1950s.
One of the footnotes to the L. Ewing Scott case: An attempt to obtain body parts that would be passed off as the remains of Evelyn Scott.