|
|
Above, Yiddish theater in Los Angeles! Below, the Harry Raymond bombing case is about to go to trial. Prosecutors say they plan to seek the death penalty ... The bishop of Los Angeles has a Holy Week message on the front page of the B section ... Youngsters out of school for spring break head to the city's parks ... On the jump, a pair of coati mundis foil a burglar at the San Fernando Valley home of George Palmer Putnam ... And Joseph Grimes strangles himself rather than face charges of molesting a child in the Union Pacific railway yards. Quote of the Day: "I wish the restaurants would give you one good cup of coffee instead of all what they call coffee you can drink. Oh 'All the Coffee You Can Drink,' what crimes have been committed in your name!" E.V. Durling
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 Here's an unusual mystery photo. We know the name of the man on the right. He's James "Jim" Bassett (to his family, he was known as Mike). In 1972, about the time the photo was taken, he was living in Tustin. What we don't know is the story that goes with the photo because, unfortunately, he died in 1993. According to Jim's sister, he was working at a Circle K (note the shirt) and either reported a robbery or stopped a robbery. He is shown here receiving a reward from a man believed to be a Circle K executive. Jim's family would very much like to know the rest of the story. The Times clips, unfortunately, are most unhelpful.
Any Circle K retirees out there who can help?
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Above, a cook goes on a bloody rampage--and no, we didn't follow up on this story. According to California death records, mad cook Andrew Rewal lived to the age of 79, presumably without access to sharp objects ... Below, the Air Force loses an atomic bomb, but don't worry folks, it wasn't armed. Just go on about your business now. Nothing to see here ... Police arrest four suspects in a robbery ring that preyed on people in wealthy neighborhoods ... Racing comes to a close at Santa Anita.
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An "instantaneous heater" explodes while a man is taking a bath and the fire destroys much of the home at 1201 W. 7th. ... A fire caused by crossed wires in the attic destroys a home at 2659 Ellendale Place [Recall that in this period, wires were run between porcelain insulators that were nailed into the studs] ... a man is captured after stealing a suitcase ... And the dramatic tale of the tragic death of Solomon Rey Ramirez.
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Above, the first paparazzi ... With a headline in dialect, no less ... Below, a nighttime intruder doesn't suspect the woman of the home sleeps with a .32 under her pillow ... 19 African Americans are arrested in a raid on a "disorderly house" at 3rd and Alameda ... The man who ran the cigar stand at 5th and Wall streets kills himself after writing a note that says "bury me as cheaply as possible and don't make any fuss about the funeral" ... An African American narrowly avoids a lynching after allegedly shooting the police chief of Fayetteville, N.C. ... And the Santa Fe railroad advertises trips to Coronado.
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Feb. 12-March 29, 1958
Los Angeles
They were such nice boys. Real gentlemen. Having them around the
apartment was just like company, except for the guns. They said they
weren't guilty of burglarizing that drugstore. They just couldn't prove
it and didn't want to go to jail. Why they laughed when the news called
them dangerous criminals. They said nobody understood them. Maybe they
did steal a few cars and hold up a couple of businesses after they
escaped from jail. And shooting that deputy four times? Well, one of
their hostages did warn them that something bad might happen if they
didn't give themselves up.
Bart, 22, Rhonie, 20, and Thomas, 19, got a hacksaw blade to cut their
way out of the San Luis Obispo County Jail, used bedsheets to lower
themselves to the ground and stole a car after finding the keys hidden
on the sun visor. In Paso Robles, they broke into a sporting goods
store and stole a carload of guns. They took a Lincoln convertible at
gunpoint and headed for Los Angeles.
They dumped the Lincoln in Van Nuys and split up. When police found the convertible at 14527 Blythe St., it contained two shotguns, two Winchester rifles and a bucket of
ammo. Thomas stole a car near the GM auto plant and headed north
to surrender to police. When he ran out of gas, he flagged down another
car and hitched to Santa Barbara, where he surrendered.
Bart and Rhonie stole a car from the parking lot of a Redondo Beach
bowling alley. At 12:30 a.m., they found Tom Garrett, 21, sitting in a
car at 102 S. Pacific Coast Highway in Hermosa Beach as he waited to pick up his brother Ray, 18, from his job at the telephone company.
The brothers took Bart and Rhonie back to the apartment at 1664 W. 205th St., Torrance, where they lived with their mother, Lola, 52, and sister Mary, 15.
For the next day, the fugitives stayed with the Garretts.
"I asked, 'What's going on here?' " Lola said.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but we're going to have to stay here until things
cool off," Bart said. "We have no intention of hurting anyone, so
please don't worry."
"It wasn't like you see in the movies," Lola told the Mirror. "They
didn't keep their guns on us all the time. In fact, several times I
could have picked up a gun that they left on a table or on the floor.
But I didn't feel that they were going to hurt us, so I didn't take the
chance."
Bart and Rhonie took turns sleeping while the other one watched the
family. They played cards, watched TV or just talked about high school.
"I made breakfast for them," Lola said. "They didn't ask me. I just
thought it was the thing to do. I don't like to be rude to my guests.
They read the articles in the paper about themselves and watched news
broadcasts on TV. When they were described as dangerous criminals they
just laughed and said nobody understood them."
As Lola ironed clothes, Rhonie tried to explain how he ended up in
jail. "He said he was not guilty, but couldn't prove it and he didn't
want to go to jail."
"For supper last night I made them fried chicken. Rhonie and Mary did
the dishes when we were through. About 8:30 last night they prepared to
leave. They told me they had planned to stay until Saturday but changed
their minds when they saw they were inconveniencing us.
"They tied us up, but they apologized. As they left, they turned and
looked at me. They said goodbye. They said they were sorry. They had a
gag in my mouth so I couldn't answer them. I just waved.
"I can't figure out how they got into trouble. They were real
gentlemen. They were careful about their language and did no drinking,"
Lola said.
"But the last thing I told them was: 'I hope you boys get straightened
out. I'd like to see you come out of this all right. This is no way for
you to live. Somebody will get hurt sooner or later.' "
And someone did get hurt--badly.
Bart and Rhonie stole a white T-bird from a man who was visiting one of
the Garretts' neighbors. They dumped that car on Commonwealth just
north of the Hollywood Freeway.
They got to Oakland by bus and bounced from one rooming house to
another, then hooked up with William, who bought a car for them.
Finally, Bart and Rhonie split up because they couldn't agree on the
"techniques of robbery."
Each of them pulled job by himself. Bart got $575 from the Central
Theater in downtown Oakland while Rhonie held up a Hayward fish market
and stole the owner's car. It was while he was fleeing from this holdup
that Rhonie shot Alameda County Sheriff's Deputy Robert Ficken/Fricken
four times. The deputy was reported to be in serious condition, but The Times never followed up on the story.
Police arrested Bart and William on Feb. 25, 1958, although the details of their capture weren't published.
A day before the FBI was to put him on its most wanted list, Rhonie
was captured March 2, 1958, after robbing a pawnshop on Clark Street in
Chicago.
Unfortunately, The Times never followed up on this case, so we don't know the rest of the story.
According to California death records, Bart James Blackburn died May 6,
1996, in Contra Costa County. He was 60. When he was arrested, he was
carrying a will that read:
"When I am dead please
notify Mrs. R.A. Blackburn of 6515 Agnes Ave., North Hollywood, and
give my remains to UCLA Medical Center for their studies.
"I found that life is like the
waves, forever washing itself against an indestructible Being, Death.
But they also have fog on their lives and as they must recede into
oblivion, so must I."
Records also show that Rhonie "Ronnie" David Rhonemus died Sept. 9, 1988, in San
Francisco. According to the FBI, his motto was "Die young and make a
good-looking corpse."
And what became of Thomas William Dyball, their companion in the
escape? His name never again appears in The Times. He would be 69 years
old.
The Times did report, however, that Tom Garrett was ineligible for
unemployment benefits that week because being held hostage made him
unavailable for work. In sympathy, Gov. Goodwin Knight paid him $40
with a personal check.
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The grand jury investigates gambling in Los Angeles ... A determined federal agent captures his quarry after a long chase ... The amusing tale of a plug hat ... A USC medical student files a lawsuit charging that he is due a huge inheritance ... Wedding bells for an 80-year-old retired dentist ... A man attempts suicide because he doesn't have the money to return to his sweetheart in New York ... A 36-year-old attorney, Stanford graduate Walter Rose, dies after surgery to remove his appendix ... Dr. Horace Wing, former instructor at USC Medical School, dies at the age of--well, we don't give his age. Just that he was born in 1858.
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Because adult characters never appear in "Peanuts," many comics readers may wonder what Charles Schulz's grownups looked like. Here's a sample from a short-lived cartoon strip carried in the Mirror.
Feb. 8, 1958
Los Angeles
James Charles Hope, 25, had been out of prison for a little more than a
year when he walked into the combination market and liquor store at 9911 S. Hoover St. just before closing time and drew a .32 semiautomatic.
The last thing he ever did was to hand a paper bag to the manager, Joe Paladino, and tell him to "fill it up."
What
Hope didn't know was that two officers were waiting for him in the back
room. Someone had tipped off police that there would be a robbery.
Officer A.S. Armas stepped from the back and killed Hope with a shotgun
blast to the face and neck, The Times said.
Hope's partner,
another ex-convict named Edsel F. Broyles, was arrested when he looked
in the window. He was "badly shaken by what he saw" but refused to talk
to police, the Mirror said.
And that was it as far as The
Times was concerned. Broyles was charged with suspicion of robbery, but
if there was a trial, nothing was written about it.
The Times
has more to say about an Officer Abel Armas (sometimes referring to him
as Abel F. Armas, other times Abel S. Armas) who joined the department
about 1953. It's unclear if this is the officer who was involved in
the shooting--perhaps yes, perhaps not.
However, in 1967, The
Times reported that Sgt. Abel F. Armas was justified in shooting a
17-year-old arson suspect in Ramona Gardens. Sgt. Armas was also a
member of La Ley, the Latin American Law Enforcement Assn., which was
trying to recruit Latinos for law enforcement.
By 1973, The
Times was reporting on Lt. Abel Armas, the LAPD liaison with the City
Council, over conflicting orders on preventing council members from
leaving a meeting if their absence would prevent the lawmakers from
having a quorum. Council President John S. Gibson ordered police
officers "not to take hold" of councilmen who were trying to leave, but
make it clear that "they should not voluntarily let them pass either
until they are excused," The Times said.
The next year, Armas
was transferred to the 77th Street Division and demoted from Lieutenant
2 to Lieutenant 1 after entering the recall race against Councilman
Arthur K. Snyder. Later that year, Armas drew a five-day suspension for
insubordination for going to a City Council hearing despite orders that
he not attend.
In 1975, Armas unsuccessfully ran against
Snyder in the District 14 City Council race. And by 1980, Armas had
been moved to the Rampart Division. By 1982, Armas had attained the
rank of captain and after retiring, he was appointed to the Youthful
Offender Parole Board in 1985.
Were there any more liquor store
holdups after Hope was killed in a stakeout? Recall that a liquor store clerk had
been fatally wounded during a robbery in December 1957, which might be the reason the LAPD set up such traps.
According to The Times' stories of 1958, liquor store clerks were
likely to be armed and they shot to kill. In one of the more bizarre
cases, an LAPD officer confessed to robbing a liquor store shortly
before Christmas because he owed nearly $2,000 in medicals bills for
his wife and 2-month-old baby.
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Here's a headline that says: "Read Me":"Cornered and Bullet-Riddled, Bandit Blows His Brains Out."
I stumbled across this while researching the mysterious noise mentioned in Matt Weinstock's column and it's too good not to share. This is quite a story about a couple of very tough customers. The descriptions are ornate and graphic, especially on the runover. The "death room" for instance. And get a load of the men's hats.
Read on »
Jan. 12, 1908
Los Angeles
Streetcars robberies, although not everyday occurrences, were a regular risk 100 years ago on our sainted mass-transit system. In this instance, a passenger grabbed the bandit as he was holding two guns to the conductor's head and the fare collector killed him. I love reading these old papers; most people have no idea just how wild Los Angeles was.
Read on »
<p><p><p><p><p><p><p><p><p><p><p><p><p>lapd_crime_stats</p></p></p></p></p></p></p></p></p></p></p></p></p>
Los Angeles Police Department
Crime
Statistics
|
Offense
|
1956
|
1957
|
Increase/Decrease
|
Homicide
|
104
|
119
|
+14.4%
|
Rape
|
1,056 |
1,271
|
+20.4%
|
Robbery
|
3,548
|
4,269
|
+20.3%
|
Aggravated
Assault
|
5,315
|
5,786
|
+8.9%
|
Burglary
|
22,799
|
26,887
|
+17.9
|
Larceny
(Except Auto Theft)
|
45,276
|
50,173
|
+10.8%
|
Auto Theft
|
10,342
|
13,203
|
+27.7%
|
Worthless
Checks
|
12,782
|
17,390
|
+36.1%
|
Total
|
101,222
|
119,098
|
+17.7%
|
This is only a sample of the extensive annual crime statistics compiled by the Los Angeles Police Department. The summary notes that 1957 "was the highest year on record for reported crimes and attempts."
The highest crime areas were: Central Division, 10,426 crimes per 100,000 population; and Newton Street Division, 10,169 crimes per 100,000 population. The safest areas were the West Valley Division, 2,774 per 100,000 population; and West Los Angeles Division, 2,907 crimes per 100,000 population.
<p><p><p><p><p><p><p><p><p>1957_murders</p></p></p></p></p></p></p></p></p>
1957 Homicides by LAPD Division
|
77th Street
Division
|
27
|
University
Division
|
18
|
Central
Division
|
16
|
Newton
Division
|
15
|
Harbor
Division
|
10
|
Hollywood
Division
|
6
|
Wilshire
Division
|
6
|
Valley
Division
|
5
|
Highland
Park Division
|
4
|
Hollenbeck
Division
|
4
|
West Valley
Division
|
4
|
West Los
Angeles Division
|
3
|
Venice
Division
|
1
|
Source: Los Angeles Police Department, annual report for 1957
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No, I don't know anything further about Baron the German shepherd, but I do have more information about Nyals A. Andreason, thanks to a reader.
According to an online obituary, Nyals graduated from Brigham Young University and was a computer program analyst. He was active in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and in 1983 married his wife, Judith, at the LDS Temple in Los Angeles. His survivors included a son, stepchildren, grandchildren, siblings and his father.
Now for the bizarre touch: Nyals died Dec. 11, 2006, a day after the 49th anniversary of the holdup in which Baron the dog was shot--and less than two weeks before the anniversary of the fatal holdup.
That's more than a bit spooky.
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Dec. 11, 1957
Los Angeles
This began as a story about a dog and ended in death.
On Dec. 10, 1957, a gunman shot a German shepherd named Baron that had
been ordered to attack as the robber was leaving a liquor store at
15023 Leffingwell Road, La Mirada.
The Times said that clerk Robert M. Nelson had taken precautions after
a previous holdup by concealing a .45-caliber pistol under the counter
and teaching his dog to attack. When the robber was backing out of the
store, Nelson dropped behind the counter, fired at the gunman and
ordered: "Get him, Baron!"
Nelson missed, but Baron was almost on top of the gunman when he was
shot twice in the chest, with one bullet lodging near his spine. The
dog was taken to a local veterinarian, where he was under observation
to see if he would recover from being partially paralyzed.
This close call did nothing to dissuade the gunman from further
holdups, however, and on Dec. 26, 1957, he shot clerk Paul Robertson,
44, as he and a companion were robbing a liquor store at 14317
Studebaker Road, Norwalk. Robertson lingered for a few days before
dying of a bullet wound to the abdomen.
On Jan. 6, 1958, police in Las Vegas arrested Nyals A. Andreason, 16,
and Charles Galbraith, 16, as runaways and found they were carrying
$300 ($2,149.59 USD 2006) and a .22-caliber revolver. Under
questioning, the youths admitted they were part of the "Black Mask
Gang," a group of Norwalk teenagers that was responsible for killing
Robertson and for the holdup in which Baron was shot.
To say that Nyals T. Andreason, the principal of Centennial
Intermediate School in Norwalk, was stunned by the arrest of his oldest
son is to do injustice to the word.
Andreason, a devout Mormon and the founder of the Norwalk YMCA, didn't
think it was possible. Nyals was a "sweet boy," he said. In fact, "They
were all good boys, just trying a crazy adventure." He had no idea
Nyals had bought a .22 on a Thanksgiving trip to Utah, he said.
Nyals didn't need the money, his father said. "He saved $200 from
delivering papers. He works in a supermarket and does a wonderful job.
He has two bank accounts--one with $150 and the other with $190."
Andreason refused to believe the allegations until he heard the
confession from his son's lips. Wasn't the Excelsior High School
student "considered by his teachers as 'one of the nicest boys in the
school?' "
"He's broken up," the father told The Times. "He said, 'Dad, I didn't
mean to hurt anyone. I was just doing it for a lark. The fellow told us
to get out and I was just going to shoot at a bottle.' "
In identifying gang members, Nyals implicated his younger brother
Aaron, 14, and said they were also responsible for robbing another
liquor store at 14147 Imperial Blvd., and burglarizing Norwalk High
School.
Nyals and gang member William G. Hughes were tried as adults
and convicted of manslaughter and robbery.
Paroled in less than a year, Nyals A. Andreason was arrested in 1963
after he drew a .22-caliber semiautomatic on two sheriff's deputies in
Norwalk (50 years ago, officers were apparently far less likely to use
deadly force than they are today). He was charged with the armed robbery of two homes in
Pico Rivera.
The Times never pursued this story, so there's no further information
on Nyals A. Andreason or his father. According to an online obituary,
Nyals T. Andreason and his wife, Mary, who died in 2005, were active in
the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and upon retirement
moved back to Salina, Utah. We can only hope that in later years,
things somehow turned out for the best.
And no, we don't know what became of Baron.
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Nov. 28, 1957
Los Angeles
The last bad decision in James B. Burton's 42 years of bad decisions was to light a cigarette.
Because to light the cigarette, he had to put down his gun.
Of course he had been drinking, which is not necessarily a bad
decision, but it is a poor choice if you've taken a woman and her
teenage daughter hostage and are threatening to kill them as you wait
for the husband to get home so you can rob him.
Maybe Burton didn't think he needed to worry because Zenobia Maddox,
32, and her daughter Tony, 15, were tied up. And because his partner
was outside the home at 4715 S. Gramercy Place waiting to ambush Thomas Maddox, a real estate agent.
James Bedford Burton was an old, seasoned criminal who had served time
in Kentucky, Nevada, Utah and California and had a record going back to
1935. He and his partner forced their way into the Maddox home by
trying to collect on what they said was a bad check.
The men tied up the two women and while his partner waited outside,
Burton ransacked the home, threatening to kill the family if they
didn't find any money. As he rummaged through the house, he drank from
a liquor bottle and continued threatening the Maddoxes.
In the meantime, Zenobia managed to work free of her restraints and
when Burton put down the gun to light a cigarette, she grabbed the
pistol.
Burton told her that the gun wasn't loaded, but she proved him wrong--five times.
Then she got a lamp and beat him with it.
Then she got another lamp and beat him with it.
Then she got a third lamp and beat him with it.
After being shot five times and beaten with three different lamps,
James Bedford Burton was not feeling too well. In fact, he was pretty
much dead. And his partner was long gone, having run off when he heard
the gunshots.
Zenobia A. Maddox died May 6, 2002, according to the Social Security Death Index. Nice work, ma'am.
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Oct. 13-23, 1957
Los Angeles
Woody and Eddy's should have been an easy job for two old pros just out
of the joint: Sit around and have a drink or two until the place closes
and nearly everybody has cleared out, pull the guns, make them open the
safe and take the money. Rough up anybody who gets brave.
Thomas Lee Barrington, 29, was living at 155 Bimini Place after being paroled from San Quentin seven weeks earlier. Harry B. Hancock, 50, 1414 E. 60th St.,
had been out of Folsom since March after spending 15 of the last 22
years in prison. Maybe they didn't know and maybe they didn't care, but
Barrington and Hancock weren't dealing with the San Marino Police
Department. Instead, the combination restaurant, bar and liquor store
at Huntington and San Gabriel was across the street in Los Angeles
County, under the jurisdiction of the Temple City substation.
Late in the evening, one of them slipped into the business' office and cut the
phone wires. They followed bartender Andrew Gillian and his wife,
Genevieve, into the parking lot, drew their guns and forced the couple
back into the bar to open the safe At that time, nearly everyone was
gone. The restaurant had closed hours earlier and the cooks were back
in the sleeping quarters. Bartender Lawrence McDonald was still inside,
as were waitress Georgia Gould and her mother, Mary, who worked in the
the hatcheck room.
"They were mean and they were tough," Genevieve Gillian said. "They really shoved us around."
In the confusion, one of the women slipped away and called the
Sheriff's Department from a pay phone outside the restaurant. While
Hancock took Andrew Gillian into the office to open the safe,
Barrington followed McDonald, who had tried to escape.
Andrew Gillian said he didn't know the combination and Hancock warned him: "If you don't open the safe, I'll kill you."
At the entrance to the bar, Barrington put his .45 to McDonald's back
and shot him just as the first police car arrived with Deputies Harold
S. Blevins and Charles E. Covington.
Barrington shot Blevins in the head, killing him instantly, and
Covington returned the gunfire, shooting five rounds, The Times said.
Barrington was dead when he hit the ground, but in the gunfight, he
shot Covington in the chest, with the bullet going through him and
coming out his back.
Hancock rushed to a window when he heard the gunfire, and his prisoners
fled. More deputies and the watch commander arrived, sealing off the
streets to capture Hancock. About 75 heavily armed officers surrounded
the restaurant, and on the assumption that Hancock was still inside
holding several hostages, shot teargas into the building.
The gas rousted the cooking staff from their sleeping quarters, but
failed to flush Hancock from the restaurant. He was finally found
hiding in a car parked in front of the liquor store. Deputies had to
restrain Andrew Gillian to keep him from attacking Hancock, the Mirror
said. "Let me at him!" Gillian yelled. "He hasn't got a gun now."
Hancock was sentenced to three life terms after being convicted of
murder, attempted murder, kidnapping for robbery, attempted robbery and
attempted burglary. I can find no further trace of him.
Blevins, who was survived by his wife, Barbara Anne, daughters Brenda
and Heidi, and his parents, was buried at Resurrection Cemetery after
services at All Saints Catholic Church attended by hundreds of police
officers.
"Minutes after her husband's casket was carried into the church, Mrs.
Barbara Anne Blevins, the deputy's widow, collapsed on the sidewalk as
she was being led from a car," The Times said. "A deputy lifted the
sobbing woman into his arms and carried her inside."
McDonald apparently recovered from his wounds. Covington and Blevins
were honored in a 1959 ceremony for LAPD officers and sheriff's
deputies who had been killed or wounded in the line of duty.
Woody and Eddy's, 3007 Huntington Blvd., is now the location of a strip mall that includes a Starbucks and Howe's market.
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Sept. 30-Oct. 1, 1957
Los Angeles
It's almost 3 a.m. and we're parked on 134th Street between Water Way
and Central Avenue in Compton. In two years, there will be houses all
along the north side of the street. It's hard to make out in the dark,
but that's a big, orange Cadillac in front of us. Our victim is in
there. Ready? Let's take a look. Keep your hands in your pockets and
don't move anything.
That's him behind the wheel. Max "The
Money Man" Shayne, 43. He's heavyset, bald and wears glasses. Strangled
with a man's linen handkerchief, otherwise there's not a mark on him.
There's the cutoff end of a woman's silk stocking near the body.
Pockets are turned inside-out and papers, business cards and an address
book are on the floor of the car. He usually carries a stack of $100
bills, but his wallet is missing. He's got 20 cents on him. According
to these business papers, he has a piece of two Anaheim cafes and
carries $175,000 in life insurance.
Kind of a shady customer. Shayne was arrested in Berwyn, Ill., in 1937
for receiving stolen property and sentenced to a year in prison. He and
his brother Irving are out on bail while they appeal a conviction for
defrauding the Federal Housing Administration. Prosecutors said the
Shaynes used the Money Man agency to arrange home improvement loans
that were used to pay off bills instead.
His widow, Molly, says she wasn't aware of any threats and said he
hadn't been worried about anything recently. Got a son named Sherwin
and a daughter named Sheila.
We better get moving. Officers A.E. Wise and R.L. Brown of the Compton
Police Department are making their rounds and they'll be here soon.
Nothing more to see here, anyway.
To be continued.
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The correct answer is Caryl Whittier Chessman. A very impressive showing by Duane Laible. I didn't expect anyone to guess so quickly.
Meet the boy bandit gang, which terrorized Los Angeles with a string of robberies and shootings in early 1941. The gang formed while the young men were assigned to county road camps for stealing cars.
Los Angeles Times photo
From left, William Taylor, Caryl Chessman, Robert Tollack, Andrew Rutledge and Donald Abbott, Feb. 7, 1941.
"[William] Taylor and I were in Road Camp No. 7 in Las Flores Canyon," Chessman said. "Auto stealing. You pick up ideas there. We did. And here we are."
Gordon Klee, who was later eliminated as a suspect, said: "The rest of us were in Camp No. 1 in Soldedad Canyon. Same rap. I've known Chessman all my life. We went to school together. So when we got out last autumn, we just naturally drifted together."
Before they were arrested, the gang stole cars and robbed service stations and liquor stores across Los Angeles. Several gang members, sitting in a stolen car in Flintridge, got the drop on a pair of sheriff's deputies who stopped to question them, and stole their patrol car.
A Times reporter asked why they committed the robberies.
"Lucrative," Chessman said.
Here's a 1948 picture of Chessman:
Photograph by Bob Jakobsen Los Angeles Times
David H. Knowles, left, and Caryl W. Chessman.
Bonus fact: Chessman lived at 3280 Larga St.
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Aug. 1, 1957
Los Angeles
Maybe it's heat, maybe it's the smog (what would be a Stage 3 alert
today), but The Times is full of odd crime news.
A rabid
2-year-old fox terrier mix went on a rampage starting at Wilshire
Boulevard and Western Avenue, biting five people before a police
officer shot it to death.
Stanley Papin, 49, a painter living at 9620 Anza Ave., Inglewood,
followed the dog after being bitten on his right hand until Officer
George Audet killed the animal.
Papin and four others were treated for dog bites at Central Receiving
Hospital, including Ray Ratliff, 18, who left before being told that
the dog was rabid so he didn't know he would need to undergo the Pasteur treatment.
Ratliff began hitchhiking to Sacramento, but returned to San Pedro
after being picked up by a driver, a Good Samaritan who told him he
should return to Los Angeles for treatment.
Speaking of Good Samaritans, three people were in custody after 11-year-old Wayne Halford, a Times paperboy living at 3425 Military Ave.,
noticed them burglarizing a house and drew a picture of their
car--including the license number: HCW 864. Police arrested Keith
Nelson, 19; Johnny Godinez, 22; and Barbara A. Pope, 18, and recovered
$2,000 in stolen jewelry.
Market owner Paul Gertz was not so fortunate during a holdup of his store at 436 S. Atlantic.
Gertz told police that four customers were so distracted by a gorgeous
woman shopping at the store that they didn't notice the robbery and
couldn't provide descriptions to police.
Bonus fact: The first rabies case in California was reported in Los Angeles in 1898.
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The hits for the Daily Mirror blog show that someone is researching the
Feb. 13, 1969, robbery of the Bank of America at 3320 S. Hill. Here's
your answer:
The Times wrote very little about the case, although police killed two
robbers. According to the account, the unidentified men were believed
to be part of a five-member gang that robbed the bank Jan. 10, 1969,
getting $17,600 ($98,532.55 USD 2006).
A stolen car was found nearby with its engine running, The Times said.
The slain holdup men were wearing stocking masks, gloves and "two
changes of clothes, one of which apparently was to be discarded after
the robbery to hamper identification."
Aha! A little research shows that on July 2, 1969, James "Tayari" Doss
and his wife, Carmelita, were convicted in the January 1969 holdup.
Doss was the vice chairman of a black nationalist group called US
headed by Ron Karenga, the man who founded Kwanzaa. The other three robbers weren't identified, The Times said.
The Times apparently didn't cover the Dosses' sentencing. The only
other citation I can find is Pacific Stars and Stripes, July 3, 1969.
There is no further information on the Dosses.
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I had the good fortune to attend the first day of the International
Assn. for Identification convention in San Diego yesterday and although
most of the sessions are focused on new technologies, I was there to
talk about the past, the 1947 Black Dahlia case.
One of the conference's features is a crime scene contest set up in a room at the Town and Country Resort and Convention Center. (The contests always have a local theme. The convention in Dallas, for example, featured a "Who Shot J.R.?" crime scene).
About half a dozen four-member teams are competing against one another
to see what they can learn during their allotted 45 minutes at the
crime scene. The contestants, a combination of investigators and
students from across the country, take the competition quite seriously.
To win the contest, a team must collect nine pieces of a Black Dahlia
jigsaw puzzle over the course of the convention and score points for
noticing bits of evidence in the room. They must also present a report
and diagram of the scene.
Since the contest doesn't end until later this week, I won't say
anything more about it except that the crime scene is wickedly devious
and the teams are extremely competitive.
I attended two sessions that would have fascinated the men who
investigated the Black Dahlia crime scene: Ray Pinker, head of the LAPD
crime lab; Leland "Lee" Jones, the other half of the crime lab; and
Gilbert Laursen, an LAPD photographer.
The first session was on using gun bluing to reveal fingerprints on
bullet casings and other metallic objects. It's a simple, low-tech
process that can develop a print. Gun bluing is old technology. The new
part is being able to make a digital photograph of the print and run it
through AFIS. (The Automated Fingerprint Identification System, for those of you who've never heard of it). Jack Webb would have loved it.
The other session involved using lasers and plastic rods to trace
bullet trajectories. The session presenters, King C. Brown, M. Dawn
Watkins and Rus Ruslander, put on a great light show with relatively
inexpensive lasers sold as torpedo levels in stores like Home Depot,
Lowe's and Harbor Freight. It is impressive to see lasers or plastic
rods retracing the bullet paths in a car that's been shot up with an
AK-47.
One other thing that struck me was the wide range of people attending
the conference. I met a high school teacher who gives CSI classes and
there was half a dozen investigators from Colombia who brought a
translator and participated in a session by using wireless headphones.
Federal, state and local agencies were heavily represented.
The convention is going on all week in San Diego. Here's the information.
Back to 1957....
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Photographs courtesy King C. Brown.
June 22, 1957
Los Angeles
Wayne Burke, Richard McFall and Alfred J. Pope fled into the night in what they thought was a clean getaway. 
McFall said: "Burke and I got in my car and J. [Pope] took furs and jewelry and guns and hats, masks and gloves and so forth and we were to meet at Johnny Heath's apartment or bungalow or motel, whatever it was.
"So we drove--Burke and I drove together and we got there 10 or 15 minutes prior to the time that J. arrived. And I had a few items in my pocket of jewelry. Pill cases. Like a compact, something like that, and I don't believe Burke had any kind of jewelry. He had the money. So we divided the money up there. He and I divided the money and gave J. some of it. $30 or $40, something like that. Burke and I wound up with around $100 apiece.
"We discussed who was going to try and fence the stuff, or who was going to fence it and everything, and everything that had diamonds in it, plus the one emerald ring we put it out there, and I was--I wanted to divide the stuff; let it go. Burke to either take and fence it all or I will. I didn't have any place to fence it and he said he did, so he took every piece that was worth anything. All the diamonds and the emerald.
"Originally [Burke] wanted to sit on it, and wait for, I don't know, a month or few weeks, or something until it cooled off. He thought he would get a better price. Everybody was pressed for money, so he made an agreement. He would go ahead and contact this fence the next day or same night or something to see what he could do to get rid of most of the stuff."
McFall said: "Later on I gave Spivak five or 10 bucks or something. That was all he wound up with." Spivak also apparently got a box of cigars.
But on June 19, 1957, the victims identified Burke's photograph. He was arrested the next day at 7023 1/2 La Tijera and identified by the victims. "At first he denied any knowledge of the robbery whatsoever," Police Chief William H. Parker wrote, "but there were indications that he was involved. He did indicate that if possible he would like to cooperate, mainly to protect his wife and young baby, which was approximately one week old at the time.
"Mr. Manley Bowler, assistant district attorney, county of Los Angeles, was contacted and agreed that if Burke would cooperate fully in the recovery of property and testify as a witness for the prosecution, in return he would be granted immunity for his participation in the robbery."
At 5 a.m. on June 19, there was a knock at Pope's door. It was Burke--and a police officer. Burke asked Pope for the furs, which Pope had hidden underneath a sofa. Pope was arrested and Burke began helping officers recover the stolen items, which were spread over Los Angeles.
 Later that day, McFall stopped at a liquor store to buy some cigarettes and heard a radio broadcast saying that two men had been arrested in the Melchior holdup. The LAPD's Inspector Ed Walker mentioned McFall by name as being wanted in the robbery.
Abandoning his Chrysler in the parking lot of the Tyler Hotel, McFall had a friend take him to San Fernando, caught a bus to Bakersfield, then another bus to San Francisco and checked in at the Mentone Hotel.
With his cash running out, McFall began trading some of the jewelry for money. He drifted from San Francisco to Reno, to Ogden, Utah, and eventually ended up in Missoula, Mont.
Spivak, meanwhile, panicked when he saw his picture with the news stories about the Melchior robbery.
Spivak said: "I checked out of the hotel. I rushed out. I figured it was only a matter of time. Now that he [McFall] was mentioned and they knew McFall was in the hotel and they knew McFall had brought me over to the hotel. I said: 'The cops will be here any minute to grab me,' so I just ran and besides I had these checks out for the television sets and stuff and I said 'Gee, I got to get out of here quick.'"
Spivak and Howard "Blackie" Nichols spent a night in a hotel on Flower Street, then moved to the El Rey Hotel. Unable to sleep, Spivak fled, abandoning Nichols at the hotel.
Spivak said: "I was going up to the room and I saw a door open and a head stick out and I thought they were watching for me, that somebody had noticed my picture in the paper because my picture had been there in the paper, but this time--and I figured somebody might have recognized me, so instead of going to my room, I took the first staircase downstairs and checked out. I didn't even check out, didn't stop at the desk or anything. I just left."
He spent a night in a hotel on Alvarado, then two nights in Santa Monica. Finally, Spivak bought a bus ticket to Oakland and got a room at the Harrison Hotel. He bought a Hudson automobile in Oakland and two nights later, he checked into the Lyric Hotel in San Francisco. He stayed a week at the Governor hotel, then spent a night in Reno. The Hudson broke down on the way back from Reno, so he sold it for scrap and bought a bus ticket to San Francisco, where he was arrested Aug. 3, 1957.
Meanwhile, McFall met another addict, Frank Arriola, in San Francisco. Arriola introduced McFall to Shirley Zusa, whose boyfriend, one of McFall's drug sources, was in prison. McFall and Zusa went to Reno and then  came back to the Bay Area. McFall stayed in Oakland because police had been to his room in San Francisco looking for him. Zusa took off for a rehab clinic in Los Angeles, leaving her car with McFall.
McFall went to Reno, where he spent a week in bed taking prescription drugs and using paregoric, which contains morphine. From there, he spent about 10 days in Ogden, picking apricots, then went to Missoula. He was arrested Aug. 10, 1957.
McFall said of his arrest: "The car had been parked there all night and all during the day or most of the day with the exception of the time I drove over to a doctor.... I was all full of cement. In fact, I didn't have a change of clothes. I left everything with Shirley in the same bag.
"I went to Penney's I think it was, and I bought this pair of Levi's and I had this clean shirt, and I had clean underwear. I bathed at night after coming back from work.
"The next day I went up and bought this. Saturday morning. Bought the Levi's and what-not, and I went down to Park Hotel Cafe, and had a milkshake, and I talked to the waitress.
"When I came back--I didn't know exactly what time it was, but I presume there was some time left before time passed where you didn't have to put money in the meter. I stepped up and put a couple pennies in the meter and Bud Lamaroux L-a-m-a-r-o-u-x, drove up and asked if it was my car. A police sergeant. I knew he was a policeman. I saw the car. And he radioed for some other cars. We stood there and talked--was it my car, and I told him no, it belonged to a friend. By that time a couple other patrol cars, radio cars, had come up and they searched me and handcuffed me. He looked in the car and reached up under the seat; the gun was in the car. He got that out."
On June 25, 1957, the Los Angeles County Grand Jury indicted Wayne Burke, Richard McFall, Alfred J. Pope and Louis Spivak in the Lauritz Melchior robbery. Pope and McFall pleaded guilty to robbery Nov. 20, 1957. McFall was given five years to life in prison, Pope was given six months in jail.
On Dec. 3, 1957, Spivak was found guilty of kidnapping as well as robbery. Although he wasn't present when the crime occurred, Spivak was given the heaviest sentence imposed on any of the men: five years to life in prison, with a minimum term of seven years.
All charges against Burke were dropped because he cooperated with authorities and aided in the return of the property.
Note: I would like to thank retired Police Capt. Ed Jokisch for providing materials on the Melchior case.
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June 19, 1957
Los Angeles
Meet Louis Spivak, a hard-luck guy if there ever was one. The whole thing started and ended with him.
Spivak, the brother of musician Charlie Spivak, had been in the joint
at Folsom and transferred to San Luis Obispo in 1954. Once he got out, he came
to Los Angeles and worked as a salesman at Monarch Clothing, 326 S.
Broadway. He was there seven months, but got fired because as an
ex-convict he couldn't get bonded. He worked briefly at Produce
Dealer's Clearing House.
Then he started writing bad checks. On
April 20, 1957, Spivak wrote a hot check for $397 to buy a 1951 Kaiser
sedan from a Convair worker in San Diego, using a fictitious California
Bank account of the Market and Produce Office, 801 S. Central Ave. The
abandoned car was recovered May 10, 1957, in San Francisco and a
warrant was issued for Spivak's arrest.
From there, Spivak
went to Las Vegas and wrote a few bad checks, then returned to Los
Angeles and wrote 10 or 12 more. Spivak said later that he drifted from
one downtown hotel to another and spent his days at the racetrack.
Sometime
in June, when he was living at the Bristol Hotel, 423 W. 8th St., Spivak ran into Richard M. McFall, below right, a drug addict whom he had known vaguely at Folsom. Spivak was
waiting on Broadway between 3rd and 4th streets to catch a shuttle to
Hollywood Park when McFall came by.
McFall, who was living at the Harvey Hotel, called the next day.
Spivak had paid his rent with another hot check, so he asked McFall send
a telegram to the hotel saying that a relative was sick and he needed
to leave immediately.
Using a pay phone in a bar at 5353
S. Crenshaw Blvd. called the Alibi Room, McFall sent the telegram and drove over
in his 1951 Chrysler to help Spivak move his belongings to the Harvey.
 The men began
canvassing downtown stores where Spivak bought TV sets with fraudulent checks so McFall could sell them and get cash.
In a day or so, they met up with another ex-convict,
Howard "Blackie" Nichols. They continued
selling TV sets, but Spivak and McFall started arguing because
Spivak thought McFall was keeping some of the money to pay for his drug habit. Spivak also bought two tires for McFall's Chrysler with another bad
check.
McFall said of his 20-year addiction: "The first pop I had was in the late '30s. I have had a pretty fair habit. It's hard to measure it from the standpoint of I have used such a variety of stuff. If heroin was available I used that. And used drugstore stuff, and naturally through Utah and Montana there is no contraband drugs for sale I could find. I went to doctors and the medicine you get there is a lot stronger in prescriptions."
One day, Spivak said something that gave McFall an idea. Spivak
recalled: "We got to talking and cutting up old times as it were, from
various things we had been doing. I--'What have you been doing? I
haven't been doing much. Working at the clearing house' and so forth,
and the bonding thing. 'Were you living anyplace?' I said no, 'I'd like to
live out in Beverly Hills' and things like that."
A view of Los Angeles from outside the front gate of 13671 Mulholland Drive
Photographs by Larry Harnisch Los Angeles Times
"And we got to
talking and he said: 'My family used to have a house out in Beverly
Hills.' And he described it. I said, 'Gee, that's nice.' I said, 'I
lived up in Beverly Hills once.' I said, 'I lived up on top of a
mountain, Mulholland Drive. Beautiful view. Swimming pool and so forth.
I lived at Lauritz Melchior's place. Did you ever hear of it?' He said, 'Yes. The singer?' I said, 'That's the fellow.' I said, 'I was his
house guest for a couple of weeks,' and that was all."
Down at the Alibi Room, McFall began talking to another friend from
prison, Wayne Burke, right, a man with a badly broken nose who specialized in home-invasion robberies.
Burke said he and McFall always went out to a car to talk: "He just
said that 'I got a real good score, if you want to go, a house score';
and they had a good tipster on it, and told me who it was, and said
there would be $50-$60,000 there, and $200,000 or $300,000 worth of
jewelry and furs. But I didn't--I told him no, that I was not
interested."
In the meantime, McFall, Nichols and Spivak cased the home on Mulholland. 
McFall said he was up there with Spivak "quite a few times, because he had the house misplaced. He thought it was on the opposite side of the road to what it really was. The first time we went up it was nighttime, and he knew that the place was called the Viking, I believe, and finally turning a corner we saw this driveway sitting back a little bit from the road. I headed the car in there, and when we saw the name Viking, he realized that was the house."
Over a few days, McFall pestered Burke about the robbery, but Burke
insisted that he wasn't interested. "Why don't you just go pull it with
Spivak and leave me out of it?" he asked. McFall replied that Spivak
couldn't go because the Melchiors would recognize him. Burke recalled: "He kept saying, 'What are you going to do? Are you
going to go with me on this thing?' And I said no, I didn't care about
going. He said, 'What are we going to do. Gee, we have to have some
money.' I said, 'I would rather be broke here on the streets than to have
money and walking that big yard. I am not going to be in a big hurry.'
But I said, 'Don't let that stop you; if you feel like going ahead you
are welcome.' "
And then one evening while it was still daylight, McFall took Burke up to Mulholland in his Chrysler. 
"You
can't see it," Burke said. "There is so many trees around there. I can
describe the gate and you drive in about a half-block, and you go in--I
don't know whether it is the front or back. The swimming pool is on the
other side of the house; that could be the front also.
"We just
turned around, and come on back, and on the way back he [McFall] kept
saying, 'What are you going to do? Let us get it working if we are going
to do it.' That's when I told him, 'Why don't you take Spivak and do it.
He knows the layout, and everything like that.' So then he says, 'Why
don't you meet me tomorrow night and think it over?' and I says, 'Why
don't I just introduce you to somebody and let them go with you?' He
said, 'I want to go with you, but if you want to put a third man in it
that's all right with me. It's better to have a third man than nothing';
so that's where J. came into the picture."
Burke picked up an Alibi Room customer, Alfred J. Pope, a.k.a. J, above, for extra muscle on the robbery.
"He didn't take me into his confidence very much," Pope
said of Burke. "And one night he told me he had a deal coming up--a couple,
three days before it happened--and so he wanted me to meet him at 6
o'clock Tuesday night."
Burke told Pope about McFall: " 'That's the only thing I don't like about it. The guy is a dope fiend, and that's the only thing that halts me, but if you want to go on it with him, I will introduce you to the guy.' He said, 'Well I wouldn't want to do that because I have never been on one of those kind of things, but he said, 'I will go if you go.' So then we made a meet for 8:30 and we took two cars.' "
It was Pope's job to bring
the guns: A Colt .45 semiautomatic, serial No. 373177, and .38
with the serial number filed off. Pope also got some women's stockings to use as
masks and a canvas rain hat. Burke, in turn, brought the gloves.
At 8 p.m. on June 18, 1957, Burke and Pope met outside the
Alibi Room and talked in Pope's gray 1953 Mercury, then drove around
the corner and found McFall parked down the street in his Chrysler.
On the drive, they agreed that they would call each other "Joe." "We
stopped at a hamburger store," Pope said. "I don't know where it was;
it was quite a ways out. We talked, you know, about everything, just
talking, nothing in particular; and we decided we'd meet on top of the
hill, and we did. And we drove back down the hill. And McFall, he
parked his car and we got in mine."
Each man "cut about 8 inches off the top of a woman's silk stocking,
tied a knot in it and pulled it down over your face," Burke said. They
all wore driving gloves.
Burke told Pope
where to drive along Mulholland and had him stop at 13671 Mulholland Drive so he and McFall could
get out. "They told me to give them 15 minutes and the gate would be
open," Pope said. He looked at his watch. It was 10:16 p.m.
Pope said he waited exactly 37 minutes before the gates opened.
The plan was for Burke and McFall to get into the
house and push the electric button controlling the gates so Pope could drive in.
Burke said: "J. left us off right by the gate, and he was just agoing up to wait until the gate opens, and he was going to come in, so Murph [McFall] and myself clumb the fence and walked up the driveway, tried the door. It was locked, and we could see the people sitting inside. So then we went to the maid's door and it was open. So we went in, and we got the maid up, or the nurse or whatever she was. And took her up, and she knocked on the door, and that way they opened up the door when they seen it was her. So we went right in then."
McFall said: "Burke and I climbed over the fence and walked up the road by the side of the road to the house itself. And we knew from the map and the house plan that Spivak had drawn for us where one of the servant's rooms was. We didn't know whether it was a gardener or maid or whoever it was in there. We went in there first, and she was lying in the bed. And we asked her did she have a key to the house or if there was an entry into the house proper itself from her room. She said there wasn't.
"So I stayed in the room with the maid while Burke scouted around to see if he could find an entrance into the house. Evidently there was not because he came back in about five minutes and told the maid to put her robe on. And he walked her up to the front door and rang the bell and I stood down below the steps. In fact, I remember I thought he told me to go around, and when I started that way he called me back up and the maid rang the bell or knocked on the door.
"Anyway, they opened the door for the maid, and when they did, Burke told whoever it was to stand still, and called me and I ran up the stairs."
Burke said: "We went in, told them to sit down, and nobody would be hurt; that it was a robbery. They were very nice, and there was no quibbling about anything. Everything was just right. So we were there about--it seemed to me like a couple hours, b
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