Nuestro Pueblo – Chavez Ravine

Aug. 24, 1938: Joe Seewerker and Charles Owens find evidence of an old brickyard in Chavez Ravine and touch on the Chinese Massacre.  Note: The original run of Nuestro Pueblo concluded in 1939. I’m going back and picking up the entries that I missed the first time.

Nuestro Pueblo

Aug. 19, 1938: Joe Seewerker and Charles Owens find a windmill on a farm at Garfield Avenue just north of Gage Street. Below, the area today, via Google maps’ street view.  It’s interesting to note that Seewerker refers to Mayor Fred Eaton’s role in the aqueduct because he’s usually overshadowed by William Mulholland. View Larger Map Note: The original run of Nuestro Pueblo concluded in 1939. I’m going back and picking up the entries that I missed the first time.

Found on EBay – 1907 Shriners Convention

The 1907 Shriners convention in Los Angeles  inspired all sorts of commemorative trinkets. Most of the items were pins, badges, glassware and ceramics, which frequently turn up on EBay. Here’s something I’ve never seen before, a spoon that was evidently issued by the lodge in Wheeling, W.Va. Bidding starts at $9.95.

Plane Crash Kills 42

Nov. 17, 1959: Investigators speculate on whether a bomb exploded on a National Airlines DC-7B that crashed in the Gulf of Mexico, killing 42 people. Ultimately, no cause was ever determined. ... And  Gene Sherman reports on border drug traffic.   Jack Smith writes: "It is easy enough to find statistics suggesting that we are soft -- mentally, physically and morally. More people are in hospitals. More people are swallowing pills. More people are in jails. More people have tics and syndromes. The New York Yankees are falling apart and the heavyweight champion of the world is a Swede." Robert R. Kirsch says John Gosling’s “Ghost Squad” is “a must for every true crime buff.” ”Mother, May I Go Steady?”

Nov. 17, 1959 Jeane Hoffman had a typically interesting story about all the wannabe teams hovering around Los Angeles. The Chargers—yes, they started in L.A.—were the closest to reality. Then there were the Stars (baseball) and Jets (basketball), teams that had to overcome several factors to become real franchises. The Chargers looked like the real deal, heading to the Coliseum in 1960. "We get fourth choice in Coliseum dates but that's enough for seven home games," said Tom Eddy, assistant to Barron Hilton. The Stars were lined up with names like Branch Rickey as president of the Continental League and Mark Scott, host of TV's "Home Run Derby," as team vice president. But where to play if they really got going? Hoffman said the Stars were talking to Walter O'Malley about playing in the Dodgers' yet to be built ballpark "but if he doesn't let them in they'll have to go to Orange County—or to court." As for the Jets, who apparently had Bing Crosby involved, they were confident that an L.A. franchise would come their way. Said Len Corbosiero, "If we can't get a new franchise, we hope to move out an established team." --Keith Thursby

Orchestras Ban Women Musicians

Nov. 2, 1919: Orchestra managers want to ban women musicians because an ensemble consisting entirely of men in tuxedos is more pleasing to the eye, The Times says. No, I'm not kidding. Nov. 16, 1919: Alma Whitaker writes about the attempted ban on women musicians.

Nov. 16, 1919: The Ridge Route opens and the Times publishes a terrific illustration by artist Charles Owens – nearly 20 years before he worked on “Nuestro Pueblo” … And the Auto Club writes a proposed law to make Hill Street, Broadway, Spring Street, Main one-way and to ban delivery trucks from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. in designated congested areas such as downtown.

Voices – Jules Feiffer

Sept. 12, 1969, “Little Murders” runs for more than six months in Los Angeles.

After writing a post about “Little Murders” and the monologues in the play, especially the one by homicide Detective Lt. Miles Practice, I e-mailed playwright and artist Jules Feiffer to ask how he wrote them. My question: One of the more distinctive elements of "Little Murders" is the extended monologues given to the major characters, like "To the Guy Who Reads My Mail" or "Every Crime Has a Pattern." These are long, thoughtful pieces and I was curious as to when you did them in the process of writing the play. The beginning? Middle? End? I'm also wondering how long it took you to distill your thoughts for these pieces. He writes: What an interesting question, and one that has never come up before. The wedding speech and the Judge's speech are lifted virtually without change from the novel that LM was meant to be before I gave up on it. Two years later they went into the play. Alfred's monologue, as well as Lt. Practice's, were written for the play, Alfred's in the first draft, Practice's after several revisions that didn't work in the Boston tryout. The Practice speech and its setup prior to the speech were  the last writings I did on the play. Film Forum in NY is screening a new print of the movie in Oct. JF

School Board Sells Downtown Property

Clare Briggs on the day after Halloween.

Nov. 14, 1919: Here’s one of the problems of research – a story about the sale of Mercantile Place, which is so well known that the reporter doesn’t say where it is.  June 12, 1904: Aha! It was between Broadway and Spring Street, and 5th and 6th streets. Sept. 3, 1906: The Board of Education closes the Broadway and Spring Street entrances to Mercantile Place.   Feb. 15. 1924: The remodeled Mercantile Place opens as the Mercantile Arcade Building—an indoor shopping center. View Larger Map   Voila! The Broadway Arcade via Google maps’ street view.

Matt Weinstock, Nov. 13, 1959

“Artists Always Seem More Sensitive.” The End Is in Sight     Bravely ignoring the tear-inducing smog which was seeping in through the woodwork, the gentlemen of the copy desk yesterday, between, editions, went into their daily seminar titled "Whither Drifteth?"  Their despondent conclusion, delivered to my desk, is as follows:     "Meteorological trends indicate it will never rain again in Los Angeles.  If this becomes fact, it is safe to predict that by 1975 there will be no one left except perhaps a few standby guards.  Their job will be to keep an eye on public buildings to see if they dry up and blow away or disintegrate in the smog.  their reports will be of value, of course, when examined in some future era by scientists seeking to determine wha hoppen.  You are welcome to this information free."     Now, maybe that'll bring rain and chase away the nasty olefins. ::     SPEAKING OF EYE IRRITATION, a friendly gentleman phoned the APCD yesterday and inquired about the smog.  Explaining he had arrived recently from the Midwest, he said, "This isn't as bad as it was in Chicago and if it doesn't get any worse we'll stay in Hollywood."  Some days, he went on, his eyes burned but his wife's didn't.  Other days his wife's eyes burned but his didn't.     The APCD man congratulated him, saying, "Seems to me you have the perfect smog marriage." ::         THOUGHT       FOR PROBERS We've heard the toppers     of TV Insist on purest honesty- But, wouldn't you call it     controversial Whether there's truth in     each commercial?     --F. MENDELSOHN JR. ::     ONLY IN L.A. -- Dorothy Odin of Pacific Palisades reported to police the other day that someone had stolen her car.  "I can't understand why," she said.  "It's a 1948 Dodge with 102,000 miles on it."  A few hours later she had it back.  Two young men had been observed acting suspiciously at a westside market center.  When police gave chase the pair grabbed Old Ironsides, of all things, as a getaway car.  They didn't get away. ::     EYEBROWS RAISED knowingly here and there when George Hunter White, West Coast federal narcotics agent, testifying before the U.S. Senate subcommittee, criticized the LAPD.      "The police here are missing the boat," he said.  "They shouldn't close a case simply with the arrest of a peddler.  When a peddler is arrested, the game is just beginning.  We're after the original source."     White, former L.A. newspaperman who has achieved world-wide note for tough dealing in narcotics enforcement, isn't afraid of anybody. ::     TV TALK programs flourish in New York as well as here and recently Louis Untermeyer, noted anthologist, wit and author of "Lives of the Poets," appeared on Henry Morgan's show.     Morgan, renowned bad boy of broadcasting, asked, "How old are you?" Untermeyer looked at his watch and said he was 74.     "You don't look it," Morgan said, "My father is 74 and he looks 96."     "If I were your father," Untermeyer said, "I'd look 96, too." ::    AT RANDOM -- A group of Water and Power employees will leave today on a four-day, 1,100-mile tour of the department's widespread reservoirs, power plants and transmission lines.  They'll travel on a chartered bus at their own expense.  There's dedication to duty . . . A youngster in Joe Hecht's store said he was learning about the history of Texas at school and knew the names of two cities -- "Sam Houston and Sam Antonio" . . . There's a sequence in "The Last Angry Man" in which a man producing a TV show about Paul Muni, a physician of great integrity, exults, "I'll make television history!"  The sponsor says quietly, "A good show will suffice" . . . Leo Katcher's solution to the cranberry mess:  Put filters on them . . . Grace Garrett's answer to the dilemma, in a word, is applesauce.  She means it.  Of course, Grace is the noted baby sitter who confided to Groucho Marx recently that she put catsup on raspberry pie.

Nuestro Pueblo

Aug. 12, 1938: Joe Seewerker and Charles Owens visit a produce stand on Atlantic Boulevard run by a man “who looked as though he had seven kids and lumbago.” At least we learn that Owens did the driving and picked the sites. Note: The original run of Nuestro Pueblo concluded in 1939. I’m going back and picking up the entries that I missed the first time.

Matt Weinstock, Nov. 10, 1959

The Satirizing Americans     The persons probably most amused by the movie and TV stereotype of the American Indian are the scores of Indians themselves now working in industry in the L.A. area.     Many of them take a quiet delight in satirizing the phony characterization.  Among these is Carl Gorman, technical illustrator at Douglas Aircraft's publications department in Lawndale.  [Note: Gorman was the father of Native American artist R.C. Gorman -- lrh].  Gorman is also well known for his paintings of Indian life and Arizona desert scenes under his Navaho name, Kin-Ya-Onny-Beyeh.     It is frequently necessary for supervisors and coordinators to hold policy conferences, which may cancel or change work already done.  Not long ago the brass had their heads together in spirited debate and the hired hands, watching from a distance, feared the worst in revised plans.  One workman, Frank Terry, brightly suggested that maybe they were discussing a promotion list.     Carl went into his Indian act.  "Much noise, much wind," he mocked solemnly, "but no rain." ::      A PHYSICAL education teacher at a junior high school in San Fernando Valley was instructing a class in basketball and while explaining the rules, placed her hands on one girl's shoulders to demonstrate overguarding and asked, "Now, what foul did I commit?"     "Togetherness," a smart girl named Stephanie replied, breaking up the proceedings. ::     MIDNIGHT HOST Life is a midnight host Who gives us a hasty snack And then when we're gone Suppresses a yawn And never invites us back.     --RICH FLOWER ::     AGAIN Joe Marshall, manager of what he contends is the zaniest construction company in town, doesn't know what to do about the help.     Not long ago one man refused to drive the orange pickup truck.  He said the color attracted bees, which found him tasty.      The other day Benny Branch was spraying the interior of a building while a helper held an extension light.  "Throw the light on the floor," Benny said.  "OK," the assistant said, and did, breaking the bulb.     If they'd just whistle while they work, Joe broods, instead of all that crazy stuff. ::     A SERVICE MAN finished filling the vending machine in the Police Building with cartons of milk, locked it and left.  When he returned half an hour later a trusty was waiting for him.  "You left your money box here," he said, "so I took it to the property room for safe keeping."  A trusty, in case you forgot, is a prisoner who does odd jobs around the station. ::     EVERYONE, it seems, is sadly contemplating our imperfect world, finding little that is comforting and conveniently blaming others.     Over coffee, J. Farrington Barrington Arrington, the sage of Bunker Hill, became thusly eloquent: "The canopy of innocuous desuetude continues to descend over the contemporary scene.  The dynamism has gone out of the individual and a rigid retrogression has gripped society."     "I think I know what you mean," his wife said, "it's drink and be merry for tomorrow is uncertain -- judging by the beer cans and empty bottles in the hallway trash boxes." ::     AROUND TOWN -- As Charlie Park was leaving the Coliseum Sunday with about a minute to go in the Ram game there was a tremendous roar from the crowd.  A man walking nearby observed, "They must be hanging Sid Gillman " . . . Speaking of football, no truth to the rumor the entire UCLA football team is named Smith and all other names were changed to protect the passer . . . A radio announcer giving a commercial for a dramatic school said the faculty is made up of "the topmost cream of the upper echelon of the TV industry."  Than which there is none plus ultra . . . Be wary of Hatton Hulett .  He sidles up and asks, "Will the ball park look like a nudist camp when the Dodgers play next summer? After all, they'll be playing without Dressen."