The Daily Mirror

Larry Harnisch reflects on Los Angeles history

Category: February 24, 2008 - March 1, 2008

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Paul Coates

March 1, 1958

Paul_coates Paul, I had a fight with my wife in the restaurant below the hotel tonite. She ran out on me.

I slammed the resterant door so hard it almost fell off the hinges. Now I'm having a feud with the resterant on account of my wife, they wont serve me any more.

The people who own the resterant wont call my cab any more either.

I told them I did not care and I would tell my custermers to eat in another resterant if thats the way they felt about it.

All I can say Paul is I hope this New York publisher pays me for my book and I can move out of Palo Alto. For ever.

All Palo Alto done for me, I done for myself.

Paul, I don't know from one day to the next what I am going to see next.

The other night I am sitting in a bar again, waiting for a custermer of mine.

A big guy was sitting next to me playing jacks by himself and bouncing the little ball on the bar.

He said to me, I am pretty good at this but my little sister can beat me.

Parkey Sharkey,
2007 Bay Road,
Palo Alto, Calif.


March 1, 1958


Granted, President Eisenhower's health was an important issue by 1958, but it's hard to picture anyone pitching a story about his dental work for Page 1 ... An atomic-powered rocket to the moon ... And a major setback for Caryl Chessman, who was seeking an appeal on the grounds that the record of his trial couldn't be recovered because the court reporter died before transcribing it and no one else could read it.


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Raymond bombing

March 1, 1938
Los Angeles


Reinforcements pour into Graz, Austria, in an effort gain control over Nazi unrest. Below, The Times spills lots of ink over "industrial freedom" ... Officers are assigned to protect vegetable peddler George Sakalis, a witness in the Harry Raymond bombing, by following him on his route ... And training for the "Welcomettes," who greet visitors at the downtown hospitality center, 505 W. 6th St.


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March 1, 1908


Pat Garrett, the man who killed Billy the Kid, dies by the gun ... An update on the Great White Fleet ... Grisly details about a crash in which a car ran into a train ... And priests in Chicago are under guard.


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Home of the week


Note, below, that the Hancock home, which was obviously torn down years ago, had a pipe organ. I wonder what became of it. And there was room for an orchestra.


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The comics

March 1, 1908


Dear Abby

Feb. 29, 1968


Some evil person asked me to run a "Dear Abby," so here it is. How will this poor woman's daughter ever marry a doctor and get into the country club if she doesn't learn to sort laundry? Who on earth would want a steak dinner at a restaurant instead of a home-cooked meal? And Percy, aren't you a caution, dumping your date and dancing with a waitress--and a married one at that! America is tearing itself apart over the war in Vietnam, the sexual revolution is underway, and Abby is writing about sorting laundry. No wonder we used to talk about whether things were "relevant."

Update: I'm so upset by this I may have to make a spot of tea.

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Photograph by Larry Harnisch / Los Angeles Times

The new police headquarters under construction at Spring and 2nd streets, Feb. 28, 2008.

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Feb. 29, 1968


Faye Dunaway talks with Kevin Thomas about life since "Bonnie and Clyde" ... Romney drops out of the presidential race--doesn't that sound familiar? ... According to reports, President Johnson is preparing to mobilize Marine reservists and National Guard troops to expand the war in Vietnam ... The secretary of Defense (Robert S. McNamara) steps down ...  Let me check the date. Is this really 1968? More Faye Dunaway on the jump.

Quote of the day: "Sometimes I think the only responsibility art has is honesty and it's not John Wayne coming over the hill victoriously." --Faye Dunaway


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Feb. 29, 1908


Above, the Stoddard-Dayton ($58,265.68 USD 2007). Drivers prepare for the annual Pasadena-Altadena Hill Climb, an important event in motor sports in early 20th century Los Angeles. The race course started at Orange Grove and went up Los Robles, took a turn to Santa Rosa and ended at Lake Avenue. Unfortunately, the route changed slightly over the years and today's maps and the vague descriptions in The Times make it a bit difficult to determine the precise route. One account noted that dozens of bungalows had sprouted up near the finish line, hampering the drivers--and the new streetcar tracks had become an annoying hazard ... A mining engineer shoots a wealthy widow after she allegedly threw a cup of sulfuric acid in his face.


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Matt Weinstock

Feb. 28, 1958

Matt_weinstockd There's a widespread belief among cynics that civilization hangs by a gossamer thread and if it ever falls it will be because of a trivial miscue somewhere, not, as others think, from a covey of guided missiles.

This is to report another near miss.

It has to do with the printed cards sent residents of North Hollywood giving the year's dates for the collection of noncombustible rubbish by the city bureau of sanitation.

There it is, unmistakably printed on the cards, Feb. 29--tomorrow.

NOW, IF you're not sure, a quick look at the calendar will reveal there is no Feb. 29. Not this year, anyway.

Clearly, somewhere around City Hall there lurks a printer who doesn't trust calendars, almanacs, soothsayers or North Hollywood. Or perhaps he has been disappointed in love and disapproves of leap year sneaking up on innocent people every four years.

However, he played it safe. He made it Feb. 29-March 1.

Hugh G. Kelley Sr. of North Hollywood, who was momentarily shaken by the date on his card, would like the bureau of sanitation to know that he is putting out his trash March 1, not. Feb. 29.

THAT PIXIE who likes to create consternation in crowded elevators is at it again. He remarked casually to a companion in a Spring Street lift, "I was chatting with a lady wino of my acquaintance--oh never mind, I'll tell you about it later."

THE TWO-HORSE parlay of the year was perpetrated last Friday.

Naturally, the lucky guy insists on anonymity because of snooping revenuers.



He gave $10 to a friend who was going to Santa Anita and told him to put it on the nose of Wish U Well in the second race and parlay the winnings, if any, to Money Maker in the fourth.

Both won. Wish U Well paying $110.50 and Money Maker $54.10--returning more than $14,000.

But let all horse players offer a moment of silence for the resolution of the proxy bettor in putting the $552.50 he collected on the first horse on the second, a 26-1 shot. Chances are if the winner had been there he'd have let it go at that or blown it on some favorite.

LIFE HASN'T BEEN quite the same for Edward D. Mitchell, 68, L.A. insurance executive, since he received a National Urban League award for his policy of hiring persons regardless of race.

The story went out on AP and Mitchell has been receiving a deluge of mail from all over asking for money, guidance and, in one instance, if he would finance a divorce.

The topper came the other day from a man who wished to become his chauffeur--as soon as he got out of prison in Oklahoma.

AT RANDOM -- A Wilshire district housewife engaged a new cleaning lady who said her name was Patience, although it didn't sound like that when she said it. The housewife asked her to spell it and she did: P-a-s-h-i-o-n ... Recommended reading: Clifton Fadiman's essay in Holiday on writers. It includes this provocative sentence: "For most men life is a search for the proper manila folder in which to get themselves filed" ... When Beverly Hills High School students who are going steady break up they say they're "getting a divorce" ... Walter Winchell inquired in print if the LAPD intelligence bureau hasn't the lowdown on the Marie McDonald kidnapping and if it doesn't involve a former Detroit hoodlum now in legitimate business. Hmmmm ... That pretty young woman you see at Union Station guiding the confused is Mabel Sue Richardson. Her title: passenger director.


Paul Coates

Feb. 28, 1958

Paul_coates The following is not to be construed as against womanhood.

Because, in all sincerity, I think women are necessary.

They serve a purpose.

Just like trees and oceans and poison ivy, they're part of the scheme of things.

In fact, they're one of the more attractive parts of the scheme of things. They're nice. I like them. 

But they bother me.

Of all the female species, they're the most sensitive, defensive irrational people I know.

Basically, they're a miserable, unhappy lot.

But suggest to them that they themselves might be partially responsible for their uncomfortable, awkward position in American society, and you'll be attacked by an avalanche.

I did it, last week, indirectly. I ran an interview with a man whose platform was to put the American woman back in the home.

He even intimated that it might be an idea to take the Levi's and motorcycle boots off of her.

This, maybe, is being a little severe.

It's attacking--or at least it sounds like it is--all women for the actions of a few.

1958_0228_ads But the problem comes with the realization that the "few" are growing in number, rather than diminishing.

They have moved into pants, into bars, into cuss-down contests and into the dominant figure in too many American homes. They've invaded the most stenchy corners of the male domain.

Today, there's nothing a man can't do bad that a woman--with a little effort and encouragement--can't do worse.

I, for one, am quite willing to admit that the male is as responsible, if not more responsible, for the evolution.

We botched. We didn't live up to the obligations and duties of our sex.

We allowed the woman to move in and take over our responsibilities, and then we treated her with a crude lack of deference.

Most men are willing to admit this.

The man I interviewed last week was.

But ask a woman?

I'd guess that 90% of the calls and correspondence I received following last week's column was from two women who felt the male was 100% to blame.

There were no maybes, no ifs.

Even women who claimed perfect husbands, perfect homes, perfect adjustment, came to the aid of their less fortunate, more masculine sisters.

It's all man's fault, they told me.

I'm afraid that so long as we men go on playing willing scapegoats for the abnormal behavior of women, they can rationalize their invasion of our responsibilities and vulgarities.

And they can go right on recruiting their sisters.

MIDNIGHT MEMOS: Miyoshi Umeki (you heard me, what I said) opened at Mocambo the other night.

The young Japanese film star, who has won an Academy nomination for her performance in "Sayonara," has all the necessary ingredients for a top nightclub act. She is lovely looking, has a warm, husky voice quality and a charming sense of humor.

If there was any lack on opening night, it was that her selection of numbers was not too well chosen. A little advice on what a good, strong closing song means would help her considerably.

Her costar is baritone Johnny O'Neill, who has been here before, but fared considerably better this time out.

Ringsiders included the Harry Jamesons, Claudette Colbert, Dr. Joel Pressman and the Bill Goetzes. There were others, but it was too dark to see.


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