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Photograph by the Los Angeles Times
Carole Landis, July 27, 1937
Form 3.11
(Revised 10-3-47)
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DEAD BODY REPORT
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Type SUICIDE
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DR No. 486 592
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Victim SCHMIDLAPP, Carole Landis (Mrs.) Residence Address 1465 Capri Dr., Pac Pal. Business Address Eagle Lyon Stud.
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Date and time of death 7/4-5/48 9PM-3PM
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Place and Address 1465 Capri Dr. Pac Pal Radio Dist 84
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Date and Time Death Reported 7/5/48 4:15 PM
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Div. Reporting West LA Clerk jlb
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Location of Original Illness or Injury 1465 Capri Dr. Pac Palisades
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Date and time 7/4-5/48
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Div. of Original Occurrence West L.A.
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Type of Original Report This report
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Cause of Death (Poison, Heart Failure, Drowned, Traffic, Gunshot, etc.) App. sleeping tablets.
Motive or Reason (Revenge, Rape, Ill Health, etc.) App ill health
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Time discovered 7/5/48 3PM
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Removed to Wilshire Funeral Parlor
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Discovered by Mr. Rex Harrison
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Address 1928 Mandeville Canyon
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Phone AR 98549
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Reported by Mr. Rex Harrison
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Address 1928 Mandeville Canyon
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Phone AR 98549 |
Identified by Mr. Rex Harrison
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Address 1928 Mandeville Canyon
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Phone AR 98549
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Sex Fe Race Cauc Age 27-28 Height 5-6 1/2 Weight 120
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Build Small Hair Auburn Eyes Unk. Complexion Dark
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Identifying marks None
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| Clothing White blouse, black & white plaid skirt, moccasin type sandals gold and wht in color. Occupation Actress Descent American |
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Relative's name Dorothy Ross
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Address 1506 E. 64th St., Long Beach Phone LB 27131
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Relationship Sister
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To be notified by Brittingham, West LA Det.
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Witness Mrs. Wasson
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Address 856 S. Bundy Dr. WLA
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Phone AR 72630
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Witness Dr. N.K. Forster, M.D.
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Address 1339 N. Capri Dr. Pac Pal
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Phone SM 57747
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Witness Fannie Mae Bolden
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Address 155 E. 51st St., LA
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Phone CE 21747
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Witness Rex Harrison
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Address 1928 Mandeville Cyn
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Phone AR 98549
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Witness
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Witness
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Further details
Coroner's Office noticied (cq) Deputy Gooch. Homicide notified.
A note written and left by the deceased; to wit:
"Dearest Mommie,
I'm really, really sorry to put you through this but there is no way to avoid it.
I love you, darling, you have been the most wonderful mom ever.
And that applies to all our family. I love each and every one of them dearly.
Everything goes to you. Look in the files and there is a will which decrees everything.
Goodbye, my angel, pray for me.
SGD/Your baby."
Mr. Rex Harrison visited the deceased on 7/4/48 and left her residence at approx. 9PM. The following day, 7/5/48, Mr. Harrison telephoned twice and the second time the maid informed him she was unable to arouse the deceased. Mr. Harrison went to the house and arrived at approx. 3:00 PM. Accompanied by the maid, went to the deceased's bedroom and found her lying in the bathroom on the floor. The maid went next door and called the police and notified Mrs. Wasson as to what they had found. At that time, Dr. N.K. Forster was called. At the time of our arrival at 3:55 PM, Mrs. Wasson and Mr. Harrison and the maid, Fannie Mae Bolden, were present. Dr. Forster came in shortly after our arrival. He immediately pronounced victim dead. Deceased was
CONTINUED ON CONTINUATION FORM 15.9
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Signature H.W. Brittingham Serial No. 2724
Signature M.J. Layman Serial No. 2606
Approved by (illegible).
If Additional Space Is Required Use Continuation Report Form No. 15.9
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The Daily Mirror would like to thank a reader for sharing a photo of the first page of original LAPD report, which was too murky to reproduce.
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e have a bounty of news today. Above, Mexican troops put down an insurrection in the state of Coahuila. And turmoil in the Mideast.
At left, Mayor Harper urges Democratic presidential candidate William Jennings Bryan to accept Capt. Eugene Merrick of Los Angeles as his running mate. Merrick says he is a war veteran, having fought with the Union Army at the age of 12. He is also a temperance supporter.
An inquest is scheduled in the crash of a wagon and a streetcar that killed six people ... C.M. Pierre hopes to extend his Balloon Route trips ...
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Mrs. Marie Heider returns to her home at 1623 Court St. and bumps into the body of her husband, Herman, who had driven a spike into the casing above a door and hanged himself. His box factory had been failing and he had been drinking heavily, The Times says. His suicide note is in German.
And perhaps the most interesting little item: a one-inch ad for the newly published book "The Bridal Night of Ronald and Thusnelda," by Hulda von Liebetraut. I might need a copy of that.
Above left, safety tips on the streetcar system's electric cables, which carry 500 or 1,000 volts.
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| I discovered something interesting in trying to enhance this photo. |
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I was fiddling around with the contrast and brightness when the labels suddenly became readable -- at least the larger type. Imagine my surprise. (No, I didn't salvage this out of the photo above; someone sent me a scan.) The labels appear to say something like "Western Drug" or "Westwood Drug." Aha! Western Drug. Co., 5500 Hollywood Blvd., GLadstone-8192.
Update: According to an informal inquiry held in lieu of an inquest, the envelope shown with the pill bottles said (apparently in Landis' handwriting):
"red--quick--2 hours
yellow about 5--can take 2"
Note that only one of these four bottles looks like the three found on the bureau, at left. That's a total of six pill bottles at least. Maybe seven.
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| Above, the photo of Carole Landis published in The Times. |
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omeone was kind enough to send me a scan of this photo. Here are the items on the bathroom counter: a book of matches, a comb and several bottles. It's a bit difficult to tell, but I think a pill bottle is visible behind the large bottle in the center of the photo. If so, we have found four pill bottles so far. |
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And we get a closeup of her left hand. I noticed right away there's no wedding ring. She had filed for divorce, so that's not terribly surprising -- but worth noting. Also notice that the bathroom appears to be carpeted.
Update: Now this is interesting. According to news reports, Landis was holding a satin ribbon bearing the Lord's Prayer in her left hand. But I don't see any ribbon, just a shadow from the leg of the bathroom sink. Unfortunately, her right hand is obscured. |

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Of course, we're snooping, so we're going to look into this locking cabinet. What's in here? On the top shelf, we find a small box and what appears to be a small pouch or portfolio-type cover with a snap. |
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This is the item that interests me the most. On the bottom shelf of this locking cabinet, closest to her head, we find some sort of typed or printed document. Unfortunately, I can't get any more detail by enhancing the photo. But it's clearly a document. Presumably this is not a will as there was confusion after her death about where it was located.
What seems evident, though, is that she was using the locking cabinet to store valuables.
In fact, someone sent me another photo of the scene in which the cabinet door isn't blocked by Detective Jones. At left, there's the lock.
Someone who has more time than I do might find it productive to get a copy of her probate records from Los Angeles County. Because there was a legal dispute over her estate, it's fairly likely there's a large file that should include a detailed inventory of everything she owned when she died.
Observations? Thoughts?
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| Above, the Carole Landis crime scene photo as it was published in The Times, July 6, 1948. |
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nce again, here are our two detectives, John Laymen and Emmett Jones, looking at poor old Carole Landis on the bathroom floor. I have to admit I'm a little disappointed that nobody mentioned what I find to be the most interesting detail in this photo.
elow, let's get a closer look. Sure enough, there's a set of keys hanging from the door of the cabinet where she's lying. I can't claim to be an expert on fancy Los Angeles homes of the 1940s (a shout-out to Nathan Marsak), but I have never encountered a bathroom that had a cabinet that locked with a key (perhaps I have led a sheltered life). I suppose there are several reasons for having one.
One possibility is that it was an early attempt at baby-proofing; Lord knows the old newspapers are full of stories about children poisoning themselves with ant paste or their parents' medicine.
hatever the reason, I'm beginning to suspect that Landis was using this locking cabinet as some sort of home safe. The inventory of her estate listed quite a bit of jewelry and the fact that she was found resting her head on a jewelry box makes much more sense if she kept her valuables in this cabinet.
Wouldn't it be fun to look in the cabinet? Maybe we can. Email me |
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Photograph by the Los Angeles Times
Here's the overall shot again. So far nobody has mentioned the item almost in the center of the photograph.
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A piano bench and an old movie script. Voila!
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At first I thought it was some sort of ledger. But on closer examination I decided it might be a script.
Below, here's what a 1940s movie script looked like in its original binder. (This is the script for the MGM production "The Arnelo Affair," dated Nov. 5, 1946, purchased by me at the Salvation Army store in Pasadena for $4. The binders, by the way, came from The Loose Leaf House, 1240 S. Main St.)
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Above, the photo that turns up in so many crime books and on the Internet--usually not credited to The Times (ahem). Unfortunately, I cannot locate this print in The Times archives, so a clip from ProQuest will have to do. It would be interesting to examine exactly what's on the counter.
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This is what we see in the mirror above the bureau. Of course, everything is reversed, so let's flop it.
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Notice that it's daytime and one of the windows is open. There are heavy drapes and we can see out into the yard.
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And here's the fur coat that everyone has mentioned. Nathan is correct in saying that Los Angeles gets cool at night, even in July, and for a stylish movie star like Carole Landis, a fur coat in the summertime doesn't strike me as being out of place. According to a story about the auction of her estate, Landis owned 11 fur coats, as well as stoles, capes, jackets, hats and muffs.
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Isn't this a wonderful hair dryer? Art Deco meets the Space Age. I'm sure there is someone, somewhere who collects antique hair dryers and can identify this for us.
And there's a doorstop on the molding at the bottom of the picture. Presumably it's for the door that's behind heavy drapes to the right.
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Notice that the label is visible. I flipped the image to make it right side up.
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One reader commented on the door knob and the lock. Here's a more detailed image. |
Thoughts? Observations? Email me
 Photograph by the Los Angeles Times
Detectives John M. Laymen, top, and Emmett Jones examine the body of actress Carole Landis in a bathroom (one of four) at her home at 1465 Capri Drive, July 5, 1948. Below, the approximate location via Google maps' street view feature.
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he 60th anniversary of Carole Landis' suicide is coming up, so I thought it would be interesting to post a Times photo of the crime scene. I noticed several unusual things right away, but just to make this a bit more interesting, take a look at this photo and tell me what you see. There is at least one detail that I find extremely odd. At left, Landis in a 1940 studio photo
(Note: Some Neanderthal at The Times cut this print into a bizarre shape, so I filled in the black background to make it a rectangle.) OK, mystery lovers... what do you see in the crime scene photo? Email me |
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Above, time to start planning summer getaways to Tahoe ... At left, fruit peddler Leonardo Vett, accused, along with his wife, of stealing diamonds from local jewelry shops.
"Vett looks like a Jew but says he is an Italian," The Times says in one of those stunning details that fill early 20th century newspapers, adding: "His wife, a pretty little woman with soft, dark eyes and a wealth of dark hair, cannot speak a word of English."
Also, Police Sgt. Sebastian (I wonder if this is future Police Chief Charles Sebastian) is blockading stores in Chinatown suspected of running opium dens on the side--at least to white customers. White men are willing to pay more for drugs than Chinese American customers and blocking the whites has forced several stores to close, The Times says.
What about Chinese American opium addicts? Apparently that's not considered a problem.
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At left, Nicholas Aloysius Adamshock changes his name to Nick Adams ... Makeup man Percival "Perc" Westmore attempts suicide ... Kim Novak bids a private farewell to the Dominican Republic's Gen. Rafael Trujillo Jr. during a goodbye bash in his chartered railroad car ... An excavation crew at Olympic Boulevard and Alvira find mammoth tusks 25 feet underground ... Yma Sumac's divorce is final ... And teenage fans supposedly swipe Sal Mineo's pants. Note the picture: A publicity shot from "Tonka." We sure used to shill for the studios in the old days.
Below left: Olympic and Alvira, where mammoths once walked the Earth.
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Above, the drama of daily life in early 20th century Los Angeles. Please point out this story to anyone who thinks the past was a "kinder, simpler time." Below, the attempted rape of 13-year-old Neruda Nielson after she got off a streetcar at Central Avenue and 52nd Street. Neruda's only identification of the attackers is that she thought they might be African American. William J. Searcey and his brother Louis are suspects, The Times says the next day ... A quart of medicinal whiskey is 75 cents ... And yes, this is 1909 instead of 1908. I didn't notice until I had had the page half-built. Next year, I'll go back and pick up May 14, 1908, so everything will even up! Email me
Above, a bottle of Pepsi costs a nickel (71 cents USD 2007) and is worth a dime ($1.43 USD 2007) ... Below, unemployed actor and author Charles E. Royal finds another career telling tourists about City Hall in staggering detail. Royal, City Hall information clerk from 1936 to 1951, wrote more than 2,300 songs, The Times said. His wife, the former Olga Shuey, was a "child adagio dancer" ... Geraldine "Gerry" Humason is chosen as a "typical outdoor coed" at UCLA ... And the government is encouraging foreign-born World War I veterans who served with U.S. forces or left the country to serve with the Allies to apply for citizenship.

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Above, no, I can't find any follow-up stories and it would be interesting to know what happened. Below, Los Angeles says goodbye to the Great White Fleet. Many people spend the night on the beach so they can see the ships off in the morning ... A marine sergeant from one of the ships commits suicide in the ocean at Redondo after fighting off a rescuer ... And, as should be no surprise, not all the sailors get back to their ships in time.
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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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April 8, 1908
Santa Monica
Wouldn't Sherlock Holmes have fun with this case? I can even imagine him complaining about how anyone could get the name "John Maloney" when the victim's address book indicates the man's first name began with an "O."
"But my dear Holmes, what about the initials T.K. on the prescription blanks?"
"Watson, you're a doctor, surely you can fathom that mystery!"
Above, MGM is making an expensive gamble on "Ben-Hur." Below, The Times continues its daily news feature on Holy Week ... and has a story about the beginning of Passover ... Detectives are trying to find out why a family was told that a young woman's suicide attempt was fatal -- when she actually recovered ... Erin O'Brien and her horse, Rusty, model Easter bonnets they will be wearing in the Beverly Hills Easter parade ... And former champion boxer Tommy Harrison tells a judge he stole a ham "cause my wife and kids were hungry." Email me
Above, an exhausted mother kills herself ... Below, Bishop Conaty dedicates St. Patrick's Church at Central Avenue and 34th Street. According to the church's website, the Long Beach earthquake heavily damaged the building, which was eventually destroyed in the Sylmar quake. The congregation, unable to rebuild, met in the parish hall for many years until it finally raised the money to build a church, which was dedicated March 17, 2007 ... First, the Afro-American League protested to the City Council because John A. Rodgers wasn't hired by the Police Department even though the Civil Service Board deemed him eligible. Then the Forum, another group of local African Americans, responded, saying that the Afro-American League did not speak for all blacks in Los Angeles. Rodgers said he accepted being turned down as a police officer and added that he wanted no part of the Afro-American League's protest. These groups sound interesting. I wonder what else I can find out about them.
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Above, furnishings for the smartly decorated office in 1908 (shoutout to my pals at Allsteel!) Below, the postmaster receives a letter from a 60-year-old widow asking his help in finding a man ... A modest appearance conceals the heart of a kleptomaniac ... A woman dies of a broken heart after being abandoned by her husband--a theater executive who ran off with a chorus girl ... Two Japanese women suspected of being illegal immigrants are held in a secret location to prevent their friends from helping them escape ... All is not well in the world of Los Angeles' sainted streetcar system. A proposed line from Pasadena to Hollywood via Eagle Rock runs into opposition from Col. Griffith J. Griffith and Henry E. Huntington ... And a young lovelorn woman tries to commit suicide with toothache medicine, but the driver of the new police automobile hits every bump and pothole in the road en route to the hospital and the rough ride revives her.
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Jan. 22-Feb. 22, 1958
Los Angeles
Bonnie saw him standing on the sidewalk in a crowd of people across the street from the theater. He was holding a gun.
His name was Delmer. Delmer Dean Dobbs, 23.
A month before, in the late afternoon, he had gone to the roof of the
Rosslyn Annex at 5th and Main. More than 100 police officers and
firefighters tried to control the thousands of people who gathered 14
stories below and yelled: "Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump, you coward, jump!
Chicken, chicken, chicken!"
As twilight fell, Delmer teetered on the edge of the roof, clinging to a metal railing.
Police Detectives L.W. Lane and Joe La Monica tried to talk to him, but he warned them away.
Then the Rev. D. St. Sure, a priest from Loyola University, approached.
"Don't you want to talk with me a little bit about this, son?" he
asked.
Delmer cursed at the priest. Then he took off his wristwatch and threw it to the chanting crowd.
"I'm going to follow that unless you call Bonnie," he said.
Police rushed to the Rialto at 8th and Broadway and brought Bonnie La Ross, a 15-year-old cashier, to the roof of the hotel.
Detectives warned her to stay at least 15 feet away. Otherwise, Delmer might grab her and jump off the building, they said.
But Bonnie ignored them and walked to the railing, touching Delmer's sleeve.
"You don't want to die," she said.
"You're right, I don't," he said. "But I'm afraid to back down and quit now."
He looked down at the chanting mob. "I hate to disappoint that crowd."
Across the street in another hotel, a man pulled an overstuffed
chair to the window and sat, puffing on a pipe as he calmly watched the
drama of life and death.
Delmer slumped and Bonnie put her arms around him. Two detectives
rushed forward and grabbed the couple. Concealed on the roof in the
darkness, officers swarmed from their hiding places and grabbed all
four of them. Delmer fought until the detectives dismissed the
officers and assured Delmer that they would not handcuff him. Then he
went downstairs and got into an ambulance.
Bonnie told police: "He had threatened to take his life before and I
finally got tired of that talk. He said he was going to get a gun and
try again and I told him to save the trouble and just go jump off a
building. So that is what he was going to do, I guess."
While Delmer was being treated in the psychiatric ward at General
Hospital, the city asked itself what made the crowd so bloodthirsty
that evening. Martin Grotjahn, an associate professor of clinical
psychiatry at USC, told The Times that the crowd's reaction showed that
mobs are "no more than an inch higher than they were in the days of the
Roman circus, when the audience would laugh at the expression of people
being devoured by lions."
Delmer was released after two days in the psychiatric ward and began
threatening newspapers and reporters for publishing stories about his
suicide attempt.
And then, on that afternoon in February, Bonnie saw him on the sidewalk
across the street from the Rialto. Delmer had finally gotten a gun.
She called detectives. Before they arrived, Officer Joseph F. Scanlon,
who was walking the beat, saw Delmer and approached him. Delmer pointed
the gun at Scanlon and said: "Stay away."
Then, in the distance, police sirens.
Delmer Dean Dobbs, 23, pointed the gun at his abdomen and pulled the trigger. He died a few hours later at General Hospital.
The Times never reported anything further of Bonnie LaRoss.
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A crowd at 5th Street and Main yells "Jump, Jump, Jump! Jump, you coward--jump!" as an unemployed railroad engineer stands at the edge of a hotel roof (the building isn't identified, but I'm guessing it's the Hotel Rosslyn) ... And the bus strike is over.
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. 19-21, 1958
Los Angeles
Her name was Velda and she had apparently been a model in New York. That's where she met Burt Lancaster, at right with nurse Genevieve Grigoli.
It's not clear how well she knew the handsome leading man--at least
they were close enough that she visited him at Cedars of Lebanon
Hospital while he was recovering from an appendectomy.
Her husband, actor Allan Nixon, wasn't sure how close they were, either. And that's when the problems began.
"My husband read a meaning in the visit that wasn't there," she said.
"He became angry. He was jealous. It was exaggerated out of all
proportion."
Nixon, a 6-foot-3, 200-pound former football player "cuffed me a few times," she said.
She grabbed one of the pearl-handled steak knives that he had given her
for Christmas. "I let him have it," she said. He left the apartment at 6400 Franklin Ave., then came back for his clothes. Velda grabbed a second steak knife and stabbed him again.
While Nixon was treated at General Hospital for stab sounds in the left
shoulder, left forearm, right hand and left leg, his wife was arrested
on charges of attempted murder.
"She started teasing me about seeing Lancaster," he told The Times
during an interview at the hospital. "I must have been teasing her too
and she took it serious. The next thing I knew she had a knife in her
hand."
Saying that he might have been somewhat to blame for what happened and
worried about the effect a trial might have on his acting career, Nixon
refused to press charges.
She said she was leaving him to go back to New York, but apparently they tried a reconciliation and moved to 1856 N. Vista Del Mar.
That's where she turned on the gas, went into the bathroom and struck a
match. Velda Mae/May Nixon died Sept. 30, 1958, having been burned over 75%
of her body. She was 31.
Allan Nixon, the former husband of Marie Wilson,
eventually abandoned a faltering movie career to become an author. His
first efforts ("Blessed Are the Damned," "The Last of Vicky" and
"Nobody Hides Forever,") drew tepid reviews which noted that he had
promise and predicted that he would someday write a first-rate novel.
The Times praised his 1968 book "The Actor," saying that it was the best Hollywood novel since Jesse Lasky Jr.'s "Naked in a Cactus Garden."
He died in 1995 at the age of 79.
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Jan. 7, 1958
Los Angeles
"Dear mother," the note from 9-year-old Jimmy began.
They weren't his words, of course. They were dictated by his father,
David James Darr, a 34-year-old machinist who was apparently holding a
.45 to his son's head.
Jimmy told his mother that he hated visiting his father; the boy was
terrified of him. But the judge ruled that as part of the divorce and
child custody agreement, Jimmy had to go, so he did.
"Once, before he went, Jimmy told me: "Mommy, if I call you up and tell
you something, don't believe it because he makes me do it," Eula, 28, told
The Times. "I told him, 'I know, darling, I know.' "
David and Eula had been married in Yuma, Ariz., in 1947, but 10 years
later, whatever love there might have been had turned into a nightmare of
hatred and legal battles that led to a February 1957 divorce.
According to The Times, David threw battery acid into the car of a man
who testified on Eula's behalf in the divorce. He put sugar in the gas
tank of another friend's car, broke into Eula's home and slashed the
furniture, splashed her house with red paint and put rock salt on the
lawn to kill it.
Then there was the court fight over Jimmy. Eula petitioned the court to
have alternate visitation rights canceled because David kept
threatening to kill her and their son. One time, he sent Jimmy back
home to Colton, where Eula worked in a drugstore, carrying a bullet for his mother.
On Jan. 4, 1958, a Saturday, David called and threatened to kill Jimmy
and himself unless Eula came to see him. "Then he called yesterday and
said it was too late, that he was going to do it," she said of his last
phone call, which came on Sunday.
She called the deputies at the sheriff's Norwalk station and asked them
to check at David's apartment, 12616 Lambert Road, where David lived
with a teenage son from a previous marriage. But deputies couldn't find
Jimmy or David.
About 2:30 a.m., Jimmy finished his note and his father shot him in the
head with the .45, then went into the bathroom and shot himself. A
neighbor said she heard gunfire and moaning, but added: "I haven't
got a telephone yet and I didn't know what to do."
David and Jimmy weren't discovered until the next morning, when Abner
M. Fritz, a teacher who lived in an adjoining apartment, broke in after seeing a bullet hole in his bathroom
wall and a .45 slug in the bathtub. He was joined by David's teenage
son, who had spent the weekend with a relative.
Jimmy was lying between a bed and a wall while David was sprawled in
the bathroom, The Times said. They both died a few hours later at
General Hospital.
"I wish now that I had gone to him when he asked me to," Eula wept.
"Then maybe he would have killed me instead of shooting Jimmy."
Although The Times never followed up on this story, California death
records show that Eula Fae Chabot died March 3, 2000. She was 70.
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Jan. 4, 1958 New York
 Photographs by Dan McCormack / Los Angeles Times
Howard Rushmore on Aug. 12, 1957, during the Confidential magazine trial.
I already touched on Howard Rushmore's suicide when writing in May about another tragic figure in the Confidential magazine case, Ronnie Quillan.
Howard Rushmore testifies, Aug. 9, 1957.
And as a bonus, courtesy of Steven Bibb, here's the famous Robert Mitchum "I'm a hamburger" story from Confidential, July 1955. Although Mitchum brought a $1-million suit against Confidential over this story, I cannot find any accounts in The Times reporting on the outcome.
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