|
|
|
 |
By Boris Yaro
Times staff writer
June 6, 1998
I went to the Ambassador Hotel 30 years ago to make a victory-party picture of Sen. Robert Kennedy as he won the California presidential primary. I was a Times reporter, but on that evening I went on my own time, despite an upset stomach from too many tacos and onion rings, toting my personal camera.
To me, Bobby represented what was left of the Camelot era of American politics, and I wanted him to win. I wanted a picture of him for my wall -- something that said a new era was aborning. And as the night grew long, it looked as if he was going to win.
 Los Angeles Times photo
At the Ambassador Hotel, crowds of supporters flash a "V" sign to celebrate Kennedy's victory in the California primary.
I entered the hotel pantry area early June 5, shortly after midnight, just as Bobby walked by and into the main ballroom to make his victory speech. I hadn't brought a flash unit into the hotel, opting to use "natural light," which was in vogue in 1968. I followed him and stood near the podium. As he finished I shouted, "Bobby, give us a V!"
He did. I made a photo and then ran back to the pantry to get a closer photo as he passed by.
I got more than I wanted.
It was crowded, so I sat on one of the freezers, next to Pasadena Star News photographer Dick Drew. As a rush of people came from the ballroom I aimed my camera, but I didn't see Kennedy. "Hey, Boris," Drew said, "you missed him."
I hopped down from the freezer and moved off to my right, spying Bobby shaking hands with some people. I aimed the camera, but there wasn't enough light.
Then there were a couple of explosions that seemed to light up the entire room.
 As debris hit my face, the smell and the stinging bits reminded me of the firecrackers I'd played with as a child in Iowa. Then the crowd around Bobby parted and there was a man with a contorted face and a revolver, and shots were still being fired.
Bobby put both arms up and began to bob and weave like a boxer. At one point he put his head down almost to his knees, but the man with the gun kept lunging and firing, wounding five other people.
I froze. "No," I said to myself. "Not again. Not another Kennedy."
As soon as the firing stopped, several men in suits jumped the shooter and pinned him to the metal counter top. They tried to force the revolver out of his hand, but he was still grabbing for it.
During my professional career I have been instructed to not touch things, especially at a crime scene. But as I watched the shooter go for his revolver, I broke the rule, crouched under the swinging arms and grabbed the gun. I was shocked to feel that the grip of the gun was smooth and very warm. Then someone took the weapon from me. I turned to see who, but all I saw were business suits and tuxedos. I figured it was probably a cop and turned back to Bobby, who in the darkness was sinking to the floor.
Suddenly the area was lighted by a TV film camera and I started to make photos of Kennedy sprawled on the floor, a busboy near him.
My mind was shrieking, "No . . . no, this can't be. I'm here to make a photo for my wall."
Someone grabs my arm. It is a woman, and all I see is her face. Her mouth is making funny sounds. "Don't take pictures," she says. "I'm a photographer, and I'm not taking pictures!" She is pulling on my arm, trying to move the camera from my eye. I am shooting at a very slow shutter speed, and she has stopped me.
I pull my arm from her grasp and growl, "Goddamn it, lady. This is history!"
I made several other frames until the crowd blocked Bobby from my view. Then I remembered Times photographer Steve Fontanini's words earlier in the evening: "They're holding deadline for a victory picture."
I ran around the hotel lobby until I found a pay phone. I called City Editor Bill Thomas and told him Bobby Kennedy had been shot. He said, "Yeah, we heard he was hit in the leg."
"Sir," I replied, "I saw blood dripping from his ear." Thomas didn't hesitate: "Get the film back quickly."
In the newsroom, as my film was being processed, I was being debriefed for the story. I was a lousy witness; the rewrite man was trying to talk me out of my shock. Photographer William S. Murphy, who painstakingly developed the underexposed film, came by and told me there were good images.
I saw them. They hurt.
|
Photograph by Boris Yaro
Los Angeles Times |
It was more than six months before I could physically handle the negatives; I couldn't stand looking at the images in the darkroom.
That picture I wanted for my wall? It would be 10 years before I could put one frame up in my home, and then I buried it in the far corner of the den.
I had trouble being in crowded places and more than once became edgy and upset and had to leave a theater or a restaurant because there were too many people.
As the early morning hours of June 5 wore on, those problems had not yet manifested themselves. But after all the questions were over in the newsroom, I walked back to my cubbyhole darkroom in the photo department and, out of sight of everybody, I cried hot tears of anger.
I cried for me and you and all the world. Bobby would cling to life for another day, but the truth was already there:
Camelot was lost.
|
| Note: Boris Yaro retired from The Times in 2001. |
|
|
June 3, 1958
By Keith Thursby
Times staff writer
As voters decide the fate of a baseball stadium for the Dodgers in Chavez Ravine, here's a sampling of stories in The Times:
- Walter O'Malley appeared on
television to make a final push to support the stadium contract.
Channel 13 aired a two-hour program that, according to a story in The
Times, split time between supporters and opponents of Prop. B. That
sounds downright fair after the five-hour program on Channel 11
boosting the stadium deal.
- The City Council had another
explosive meeting over the stadium issue. Here's a paragraph from the
story, which did not carry a byline: "Blood pressures began to hit the
ceiling as a majority faction in the council, which favors the Dodger
contract to build a new stadium in Chavez Ravine, balked an opposition
minority move to launch another propaganda barrage against the Dodgers
by simply forcing an adjournment of the council." That's propaganda?
What about five hours on local television?
- Weird timing for this story
in sports. Al Wolf reported that home runs are down in the National
League so far in the 1958 season, so fears that the Coliseum's short
left field would give right-handed hitters an unfair advantage seem
unfounded.
keith.thursby@latimes.com
|
|
|
At left, Marshal Dillon and Miss Kitty! But wait, there's roller derby: the San Francisco Bay Bombers vs. the Los Angeles Braves!
Talk about mind-rotting nostalgia: "Heckle and Jeckle," "Mighty Mouse" and "Howdy Doody."
And, hmm.... "Bowling Time" or "Topper"? Oh, I think I'll watch "Topper."
Tough choice at 8 p.m.: Gale Storm, Perry Como or Spade Cooley.
On second thought, I'll wait until 8:30 p.m. for "Have Gun, Will Travel."
Best of all: "Perry Mason."
Email me
|
Photograph by John Malmin / Los Angeles Times
Diana Lynn in a very beat-up print dated March 28, 1954
May 4, 1958
By Keith Thursby
Times Staff Writer
 The Dodgers’ contract with the city of Los Angeles heated up as a political issue in the spring of 1958. Proposition B was on the June 3 ballot and stories started appearing with some regularity in The Times about various groups or politicians weighing in on either side of the issue.
Television would not be left out of the discussion.
Dinah Shore (at right in a 1942 photo by Bruno of Hollywood) was one of the top names in TV in 1958. She had graduated from a 15-minute show to an hour program on Sunday nights. Cecil Smith, The Times’ entertainment editor, profiled her as busy and happy — but worried about the Dodgers.
Shore recounted seeing the Dodgers lose, 15-2, at the Coliseum and an exchange with team owner Walter O’Malley:
“I kept telling Mr. O’Malley how sorry I was. But some man called up to him, 'Don’t worry, Walter, we’ll get 'em next time,' and Mr. O’Malley said: 'Such wonderful people; in Brooklyn, they’d have thrown a pop bottle at me.’ ”
Then came the politics:
“But if he loses Chavez Ravine, what’ll he do? That’s what worries me, what’ll he do?”
keith.thursby@latimes.com
Above, the popularity of TV westerns spreads to "Ozzie and Harriet." Below, Holy Week is presented in a daily news feature based on the Gospels. It is difficult to imagine that even in the 1950s anybody thought this was a good idea--but then again, the Mirror ran page toppers in something like 48-point Gothic telling readers to go to church for Easter Sunday ... Mickey Cohen has a black eye and is in court--how unusual ... Republic abandons theatrical releases ... And a pilot describes bailing out at 650 mph.
Email me
March 24, 1958
Los Angeles
Just because the deadline passed 50 years ago doesn't mean the Daily Mirror can't have a little fun. There are no prizes, only a little vintage amusement.... Send me your best interpretation of the NBC Peacock and remember to color inside the lines. Neatness counts! Remember: There are NO prizes! The deadline passed 50 years ago! The only reward is fun!
Email me
Well at least one person took me "seriously." Thanks to Howard Decker!
Reader Holly Cannon's entry. Now there are two!
March 24, 1958
A Beverly Hills lady named Eve is willing to stipulate that--at the
moment at least--it's a very temporary world, particularly for those
who aspire to the drama.
A few mornings ago she was visited by a tax assessor who confided after
a few minutes' chat that he wasn't regularly a tax assessor. He was
really an actor but things had been a little slow.
That afternoon Eve went to the hospital for an operation. She was lying
in bed, reading Variety, when a man came into take a blood test.
Seeing what she was reading, he asked if she was in the entertainment business. No, she said, but her husband was.
"I'm an actor," he said, "but things have been a little slow and you know how it is, a fellow has to make a living."
YOU KNOW HOW cold and efficient and merciless Boris Karloff is when he plays the part of a mad scientist or a zombie?
Well, there he was in a market at Sunset and Laurel Canyon boulevards
the other day, tugging mildly at a shopping cart telescoped into a
whole batch of them, trying in vain to get it loose. A magnificent
study in quiet desperation.
Finally, reports writer John D. Weaver, a woman at the check stand
finished with her cart and Boris, in great relief, appropriated it to
do his shopping.
AN ENGINEER from Northrop Aircraft Inc., gave a talk the other night at which films of the development of the Snark missile were shown.
A spy who was there reports the engineer commented wryly, "You've all
read about the trouble the Navy had getting the Vanguard into orbit
after so many of them plopped into the sea. Well when we were testing
our missile at Cape Canaveral we used to refer to the Atlantic Ocean as
'the Snark-infested waters.' "
AND THIS profound
but devious reflection came in a letter Mack Tuesley received from his
mother: "Glad the Navy finally got its grapefruit into orbit, although
it is a little difficult for me to understand why they went to all that
trouble and spent all that money, never knowing what these experiments
will discover. I suppose it's a case of not knowing what we can't get
along without until we have one. Like my new dishwashing machine."
ONLY IN L.A. -- If
anyone has wondered what all those people are looking at in the store
window at 837 N. Fairfax Ave., they're gazing at the 7x5-foot oil
painting titled "Oscarama," by artist Ted Gilien, whose studio it is.
He brought it out in front to commemorate the Academy Awards Wednesday.
It's a brutally satiric study of movie types, men and women, at the
"moment of truth" when they receive their statues. And in the
background center, just for the heck of it, Ted painted himself and his
wife with three-count 'em--three Oscars in front of him.
AT RANDOM --
Heather Lowe, 2, got into the aspirin and was rushed to Santa Monica
Emergency Hospital. After a pump job she came out beaming, holding a
lollipop and balloon. Turned out these are budgeted items at the
hospital, kept on hand for just such cases. Very nice ... Pat Buttram,
CBS radio funnyman, bought a new home in Northridge with swimming pool,
push-button garage door and other luxuries--but you know what impressed
him most? A gold-plated weather vane on the roof ... The Manchester
Guardian reports a famous inn near London had a notice in superbly
appropriate orthography: "Whet Paynte." Which is about as quaint as you
can get ... A reader who is sensitive about such things reports that he
heard Gen. Gruenther say on a TV program that "over-all-wise" the Red
Cross campaign was doing very well.
Frances Farmer is interviewed by The Times' Cecil Smith upon her return to acting in "The Tongues of Angels," a "Studio One" production. Farmer, whose life imploded in the 1940s, says: "I'm better now at my work than I have ever been."
Update: Several people have commented on Farmers' purported lobotomy. The Times' clips refer to this procedure as a possibility when commenting on "Shadowland," the biography by William Arnold, and on the movie "Frances," but there's nothing more substantial than that and certainly nothing was said at the time it might have occurred. That bastion of accuracy (or sinkhole of truthiness and gossip) known as Wikipedia says she never had a lobotomy. At least that's what it says today; the entry could claim something entirely different tomorrow--or even in another hour.
Arye Michael Bender writes: That Frances Farmer appeared on "Studio One" speaks volumes. The show was the
highest quality, one hour drama anthology on TV. It was performed LIVE. There
was no more terrifying a high wire act than performing live, on the number one
network, coast to coast. If she successfully pulled that off, then she should
have been ready for anything.
Email me
Above, what has to be the quote of the day: "Two things are at stake for America in the Middle East ... Arab oil and Arab friendship. Both depend upon understanding. You can afford to lose the oil. You cannot afford to lose the friendship." Below, the Senate approves a measure to stimulate the economy by creating jobs ... A woman in the audience is so overcome by a Broadway performance of the play "Look Back in Anger" that she walks onstage and slaps actor Kenneth Haigh ... And the Emmy nominees are announced.
Email me
April 28, 1958
Los Angeles
As The Times noted in November 1957, NBC planned to introduce videotaped programs with the switch to daylight saving time.
Although the time switch didn't occur until April 27 in 1958, we have already rolled the clocks ahead, so this seems to be a good time to focus on the technology that revolutionized television.
Arye Michael Bender (who worked under the name Leslie Michael Bender) worked at WBKB-TV in Chicago at a young age as mail room clerk, freelance publicity photographer and entrepreneur filmmaker. He attended Columbia College of Broadcasting while in high school in 1959. From 1960 to '63, he worked his way through college as a staff director for WSIU-TV in Carbondale, Ill. He began working with videotape at ABC in Los Angeles in 1963. He shares his recollections of the early days:
Got into editing when a microscope was added to the razor blade and mylar tape system.
 At first, at ABC Hollywood, it was the old radio engineers who practiced the "art" of editing. This was because they had been working with audio tape in the late days of network radio. Engineers tend to be better at dealing with mechanical things than they are people and the arts.
The first show to expand editing into an attempted art was "The Ernie Kovacs Show." He was a pioneer in using the developing techniques of television to illuminate comedy -- in much the same way Buster Keaton did 40 years before.
The editing was very stilted because the engineers believed that you edited on pauses, rather than action. Sixty years of the motion picture art of editing had been thrown out the window.
Ernie Kovacs had died in a grisly accident [1962--lrh] the year before I came to work for ABC. So editing was stopped in its tracks with his death, there being no one to explore what it could do.
I had just turned 21 when I was hired. I didn't connect the dots, so never mentioned my forays in Chicago television. I got the job because I had worked as a paid staff director at my college television station in Southern Illinois.
They purchased the two videotape machines used for the Adolf Eichmann trial in Israel, when the trial was over. My curiosity demanded that I learn all working TV positions, so I learned how to operate those pot metal and tube behemoths.
Since 20-year-old would-be directors from the sticks were a dime a dozen, but people who could operate a VTR were still rare, I got hired.
I was assigned as the lowest level "engineer" in the tape room. t was called The Submarine because of the narrow passageways between VTRs, that never saw daylight and was kept cold as a tomb to keep the tubes cool.
It was a strange and wonderful place.
At NBC in the era, they handled the aesthetics of tape editing with a unique approach.
They kinescoped the raw tape footage, then assigned the editing to a film editor.
Art Schneider was NBC's top West Coast editor. He cut the 16-millimeter film in the traditional fashion, then an another engineer (I believe) was assigned the daunting and repetitive task of conforming the videotape with scissors and mylar.
Keep in mind that no image was on the tape itself, only vertical lines of electronic information. In order to see if the splices worked, the edited tape would have to be played back, one splice at a time, on those giant machines. Since the mylar splices would deteriorate quickly, only a very limited number of passes could be attempted.
Each time a master tape was physically handled to see image, damage was done. It was a very hair-raising process.
March 4, 1958
Oct. 3, 1957--A former Santa Monica councilman was announced as
winner of the $140,000 capital prize in the Irish Sweepstakes today.
Jack Guercio, 49, had a ticket on Stephanotis, which brought home his $140,000 by winning the Cambridgeshire Handicap.
Guercio
resides at 1703 Maple St. with his wife, Pauline, and two youngest
sons, Vincent, 17, and Jackie Jr., 13. His oldest son, Ronald, 23, is
married.
Mrs. Guercio, overwhelmed by her husband's fortune, told reporters:
"I'd like a trip to Honolulu for the whole family, and maybe a new car."
Her
husband's plans were more conservative. "It'll send the boys to
college, help us redecorate our home and probably pay off the mortgage." At the time of Jack Guercio's
windfall, I figured he was too damn blase about the whole affair. And
if there's anything that annoys me, it's a man who can keep his wits
about him after winning $140,000. So, for the last few months I've been waiting. I've been waiting for Guercio to get his hands on that green--and to go stark raving out of his mind, like any respectable amateur gambler would do. 
Then, I figured, I'd call him up. And let him pour our his soul to me--about how he frittered all those beautiful green dollars. So yesterday I phoned him.
"Paul Coates," I said. "How's everything going, Jack?"
"Fine," he said. "Just fine."
"The wife?"
"Fine."
"The $140,000?"
"The what?" he demanded.
"The $140,000," I repeated.
"Oh," he said. "That! That's fine too--what there's left of it."
Now I was getting somewhere. "Been having a ball, eh?" I pressed.
Guercio laughed, casually. "I mean what's left of it after the income tax men took theirs."
"I see," I said. "But how about your share?"
"Like I told you," he repeated, "it's fine."
"Bought a lot of nice luxuries with it, I'll bet?"
"No," he said.
"New house?"
"No."
"But you DID redecorate the old one," I insisted. "After all, it's been over four months."
Guercio chuckled evenly. "Not yet. But we're thinking about it."
"The mortgage, then. You've paid that off."
"No," was the reply. "Not yet."
The
man was being difficult. "So," I finally ventured, "you took the wife
and kids on that luxury cruise to Hawaii, like she wanted. Like she'd
always dreamed of."
There was a pause. Finally, Guercio answered: "As a matter of fact, no."
"Come
on, Jack," I pleaded. "You've been swamped with all kinds of offers.
Trips. yachts. Expensive cars. You must have bitten on some of them."
"Paul, it's surprising. But hardly anybody's pestered us at all."
"The money!" I demanded. "The money? Where is it?"
Guercio laughed, harshly. "It may be gathering dust but it's gathering interest too. Something for the boys' education."
"You mean to say," I asked, "You didn't even make a trip?"
Guercio
told me that he didn't mean to say anything of the kind. "Didn't you
hear? My wife and I took the two youngest boys over to Ireland."
"Then you did squander some of it?"
"What happened," Guercio
explained, "is that I went to my local bank and they refused to collect
our winnings for us. They didn't want to get involved. So I figured--"
"So you blew a big chunk of it on a fancy trip to Europe," I interrupted.
"Well," Guercio admitted. "The four of us did go. It was a very pleasant vacation."
"Wastrel," I hissed half-heartedly, hanging up.
Studio executive Harry Cohn dies ... On the jump, the rest of the Cohn obituary ... A man commits suicide by jumping from the Subway Terminal Building ... Pilot whale Bubbles "celebrates" a year in captivity ... The Fire Department rescues a boy who was trying to trap pigeons beneath the 4th Street bridge over the Los Angeles River ... And Gene Sherman's column.
Email me
Read on »
Feb. 6, 1958
It isn't customary for a fireman to play policeman but William L. Smith
of Rescue Co. 3 decided recently that something had to be done about
whoever pulled 30 fire alarm boxes in the Bunker Hill area between Dec.
14, 1957, and Jan. 30, 1958.
False alarms are a nuisance and cost money.
Borrowing the techniques of his son, Officer Kenny Smith of the LAPD,
Bill charted and analyzed the time of day and days of the week that the
30 boxes were pulled.
He concluded that the box at 1st and Flower would probably be set off
between 6 and 7 p.m. on Wednesday Jan. 29. He got permission for a
stakeout.
AS BILL and
Investigator Kenneth Held watched, a boy of 10 came out of an apartment
building to mail a letter. On the way back to the apartment he tripped
the fire alarm box. They chased and caught him and he readily admitted
pulling most of the 30 boxes. Subsequently other juveniles who had
participated in the false alarm spree were turned up.
Tripping a fire alarm box may seem relatively harmless but it can be
dangerous. For example, a firetruck responding to one of the false
alarms at 7:37 p.m. Jan. 6 collided with a car at 4th and Figueroa,
slightly injuring several men.
Had they been seriously injured, someone would have been in trouble.
Section 625A of the Penal Code states that turning in a false alarm is
a felony when a serious injury occurs.
As for the boy, he's a bright youngster whose problem is mostly lack of
parental supervision. Firemen are arranging for him to visit the
station. They figure that will be easier on the taxpayers than going to
him.
Meanwhile, Fireman Bill Smith seems to have acquired the nickname "Sergeant Wednesday."
A MAN ON the
telephone Tuesday at 4 p.m. said, "You don't know me. I never called
you before. My name doesn't matter. I just wanted to say something. I'm
mad. I got to rustle the money for my auto license in the next few
minutes or pay double. I'll have to park my car. That'll be 50 or 75
cents. Then I'll have to get gas. That's 8 cents tax on each gallon.
Then I'll have the privilege of trying to get on the freeway, which I
understand cost $1,000,000 a mile to build. You know what that means in
the rain. That's all." Click.
REPORTER Don Dwiggins phoned Walter Plett, CAA administrator, for any new developments on the Norwalk tragedy and was told, "He's in a space meeting."
What's this, thought Don, the CAA planning to regulate outer space too?
Turned out the meeting was about air space along federal airways.
A CARELESSLY parked
car blocked the driveway as Dr. Howard McDonald, president of L.A.
State College, tried to back out of the crowded lot at the North
Vermont Avenue campus and when no one came to move it he sounded his
horn.
A student came up and asked, "Who the devil do you think you are, the president?"
"Well," retorted President McDonald, "I have aspirations."
AT RANDOM--Pretending
to be a country editor, Max Mannix, columnist in El Pueblo--the city
employees mag, not the Santa Anita nag--offers to let paid-up
subscribers write their own obituaries. "You can make it as flowery as
you wish," he writes. "We will then hold it and when you kick off we
will print it." Not a bad circulation come-on for real ... Understand a
Hollywood pixie wears two watches. The one on his left wrist is to tell
time, the one on his right is set at bar closing time ... From T 'n' T:
"If Patrick Henry thought taxation without representation was bad, he
should see it WITH" ... Simile: As quiet as a carwash emporium on a
rainy day.
Feb. 4, 1958
Los Angeles
More rain ... A woman dies in a bizarre shooting ... The Norwalk air disaster provokes calls to restrict flights over the city ... The governor submits a budget with no tax increases, but calls for an overhaul of the state's tax structure (sound familiar?) Above, an interview with Hugh O'Brian, star of "Wyatt Earp," at that time the No. 4 TV show in the country. "Gunsmoke" was the top-rated TV show, followed by "Perry Como," "Tales of Wells Fargo," "Wyatt Earp," "I've Got a Secret," "Have Gun, Will Travel," "Restless Gun," "Wagon Train" and "Danny Thomas" with "Lassie" and "Father Knows Best" tied for 10th.
Click here to download the full page: Download 1958_0204_cover.jpg
Email me
Jan. 29, 1958
The Kingfish and I got a pretty fair raking over the coals a few days ago.
And, somehow, I'm not quite sure that we deserved it.
The man who did the raking is a colleague of mine--a local newspaper
columnist named Stanley Robertson. He writes for the Negro publication,
the Los Angeles Sentinel.
It's his written opinion that Kingfish and I were responsible this month for what he calls "television's darkest hour."
And, apparently, that we--in two 15-minute KTTV telecasts--set the Negro race back at least a hundred years.
According to Robertson, the actions of Tim Moore, the 70-year-old actor
who portrays Kingfish in the "Amos 'n' Andy" TV series, have been
"disgraceful" since he became involved in the roast-beef episode with
his in-laws three weeks ago.
And my television show, with Tim as my guest, was "the bitter end."
To quote part of Robertson's complaint:
"Egged on into carrying his buffoon role of Kingfish over into real
life by the publicity he has received, especially (on) the Coates
television show, Moore has given credence to the millions of people who
believe that 'Amos 'n' Andy' is a true portrayal of the way Negro life
exists in the U.S."
In the first place, I question whether Moore is trying to be an
off-stage Kingfish. Or whether the fictitious Kingfish hasn't become a
popular television personality because Tim Moore injected quite a bit
of his real-life self into the character.
More is just that. He's a character.
He's a comic, a polished showman and maybe--as Mr. Robertson contends--he's even a buffoon.
He's also a pretty wonderful, sincere man, and I very strongly resent Robertson's attack on him.
I do so, especially, when the attack is one which I consider nothing
more than an outburst of some highly supersensitive emotion.
Mr. Robertson's column says, in gist, that the comical happy Negro who
has become as much a part of American folklore as Paul Bunyan and
Johnny Appleseed should be buried and forgotten, so that today's Negro
will not be discredited by the memory.
Let people look at the Marian Anderson,s the Ralph Bunches, the Jackie Robinsons, Walter Whites and Paul R. Williamses.
But at all costs get rid of the prototypes which inspired minstrel acts of men like Jolson and Cantor.
Somehow, this logic doesn't hold up.
If we follow it a little further, I'm afraid we'll have to outlaw jokes
about Irish cops, mothers-in-law, thrifty Scotsmen, sleepy Mexicans,
oil-soaked Texans, and, of course, the rich humor of the Jewish dialect
story.
Every country, every race, every geographical section, even every
profession has certain traits which--either justly or otherwise--are
attributed to it.
It would be sad to contemplate that we should ever become a nation so
hypersensitive we can't poke light fun at ourselves now and then.
Apparently, this is what Mr. Robertson wants. I gather from his column that he doesn't even like the "Amos 'n' Andy" show.
About it, he comments:
"I know many people who have always disliked 'Amos 'n' Andy,' but who
watched it occasionally, who have sworn they'll never watch it again
after the 'Affair Pot Roast.'
"And Mr. Coates must realize, too, that the interviews with the Kingfish have possibly done him more harm than good.
"An elderly Negro woman, obviously a domestic, riding on the
Crenshaw-Hollywood bus the other day, summed up the Coates' programs:
"Who does Paul Coates think he's kidding?"
I'm not kidding anybody.
But may be if I were a little more hypersensitive, I could build up a
fair-sized neurosis about prototypes like the stupid American tourist,
the henpecked husband and the provincial transplanted New Yorker.
Not to forget the cliche newspaperman who always needs a drink.
And at this point, I'm ready.
An Al Hirschfeld drawing for the cover of TV Times? Imagine that!
Walter Ames in The Times, May 28, 1954
Sept. 4, 1948
Los Angeles
The King's, 8153 Santa Monica Blvd., 1945-1954
KWIK-AM (1490) 1947-1951
Johnny Grant 1923-2008
 Photograph by Al Seib / Los Angeles Times
I let it pass when we first ran this photo a few weeks ago, but I couldn't help noticing something unusual about Al Seib's picture of Jay Leno delivering doughnuts to striking writers walking the picket line. But here it is again today.
Why, Leno is wearing a badge. It looks awfully authentic, too. I managed to get a detail shot from my colleague Robert St. John on the photo desk:
Notice that the badge says: "Special Agent" and "Division of Criminal Investigation."
A little online sleuthing finds that it is apparently a badge from the state of Wyoming. A real one.
Behold:
Hm. I somehow suspect it's unwise for a civilian to tool around Los Angeles wearing an actual law enforcement badge even if he is Jay Leno (did I mention he has a great car collection?).
Email me
Update: The 1947p's/LAPL's own Mary McCoy delves into ProQuest and turns up some ready answers, noting: "Gotta leave some for the rest of the kids to answer - no one likes a
ProQuest-it-all!"
Update II: I'm going to start filling in some of the answers--but very slowly just to give people one more chance to show off their expertise in Presleyana.
Update III: OK, here are the rest of the answers. Hope you had fun with that--I sure did.
And in case you're wondering, as I was, The Times apparently never shot Elvis in the 1950s. All we have are handout pictures. I would love to know the reason behind that.
I had so much fun doing yesterday's post on Elvis Presley that I had to share some of these wonderful factoids:
 1. In 1957, columnist Hedda Hopper listed Elvis Presley among the worst-dressed male personalities of the previous year. Who else was on the
list?
- Marlon Brando? (David Andrews) Bingo! He was one of them.
- James Dean? No. He died in 1955.
- Tab Hunter, at right. I should dig up some of the 1957 profiles of Hunter to show what he was trying to contend with. He told Hopper: "I'm a product of Hollywood publicity." Fairly astute for a young man of 24.
- Dennis Hopper (Gee, ya think?)
- Pa Kettle (Oh don't pick on poor Pa Kettle. That's as bad as saying Tugboat Annie is a slob. Oh wait, she says Tubgoat Annie is a slob).
- Bing Crosby, whom she singles out as a particularly notorious offender. He wears a shirt that looks like an Italian sunset with his best suit!
She also listed the worst-dress female personalities, including:
- Jayne Mansfield? (David Andrews) Bingo!
- Marilyn Monroe? (David Andrews) Absolutely.
Hedda Hopper's fashion tips for gals: "Some of them prefer slacks and turtle-neck sweaters, which are all right in their place, but not walking down Wilshire Boulevard, Fifth Avenue or Bond Street." That's it, ladies, no slacks and sweaters on Wilshire!
 2. On what campus was Presley performing when someone threw eggs at him from the balcony?
-
University of Alabama? No. But an interesting guess.
- Villanova University? (Mary McCoy). Bingo! Juniors William Quinn, William B. Oates, James Stark and John Edit denied egging Presley.
3. What was the name of the neighborhood where Presley bought Graceland in 1957?
- Graceland was near Whitehaven, a suburb south of downtown. (Mary McCoy). Exactly right. According to The Times, Graceland was in Whitehaven.
4. What polite, modest, young TV personality emerged in 1957 who was described as a wholesome alternative to Presley?
- Pat Boone? No. Boone was offered as a wholesome alternative, but this man was described as representing a wholesome, literate, intellectual alternative to Presley.
- Charles Van Doren? (David Andrews) Incredible but true. "It's a long time--if ever--since the public has been so impressed by an intelligent, courteous, modest young man such as Van Doren." Charles Mercer, Associated Press.
5. 
What future movie star was kicked off the university track team for refusing to trim his Elvis-like sideburns?
- Michael Landon? No, but that's a great guess!
- Bruce Dern? (Mary McCoy) Bingo! Bruce Dern, star of Penn's two-mile relay team, quit rather than shave his sideburns. (At right, tragedy at the Dern home, 1962).
6. Bootleg Presley recordings were selling for 50 rubles ($12.50 USD 1957)
in the Soviet Union in 1957. These bootlegs were not vinyl but on
another medium. What was it?
- Reel-to-reel magnetic tape? No. The Soviets used a nontraditional recording medium.
- Shellac? No. The Soviets were using an improvised medium never intended for recording.
- Used X-ray film? (Mary McCoy). Absolutely. This was known as "music on bones."
7. What folk music expert said: Elvis Presley is "a crime against society.
Rock 'n' roll is going to die. In fact the process has already started."
- Pete Seeger? Interesting guess. No, but I wonder what Seeger thought of Presley.
- Alan Lomax? Excellent guess. But no.
- Burl Ives? Excellent guess! But no.
- Woody Guthrie? Excellent guess. But no.
- Dorothea Dix Lawrence? (Mary McCoy). Absolutely right. Lawrence cataloged 378 verses of "Frankie and Johnnie" (a.k.a. "Frankie and Albert").
8. Two young women making a promotional tour of the country ran into
Presley as he was parking his Cadillac at the Beverly Wilshire. What
were they promoting and what scary prop did they have with them?
- National Mothproofing Month? (Mary McCoy) Bingo! Mary Hall and Cherry Gordon (at right, behold the fearsome terror of proto-Mothra) were carrying a 35-pound giant prop moth nicknamed "Max the Monster." Elvis said: "What's that?" They replied: "Pat Boone."
9. What famous Presley movie was briefly given the working title "Treat Me Nice?"
- "Jailhouse Rock?" (Delilah Schelen) Exactly right.
10. What rumor about Presley was hotly denied in a 1957 magazine article? (Note: There may be many rumors, I'm thinking of a specific rumor listed in The Times).
- That he had left the building: "One rumor even had it that he was dead," The Times said May 2, 1957. "You may think he's out of this world or down the tube but you'll have to agree he's far from dead!
11. What actress wasn't allowed to visit Presley while he was filming in 1957?
- Natalie Wood? No, another actress was specifically banned from visiting him, according to The Times.
- Debra Paget? No. Interesting guess, but no.
- Mae West? Interesting guess. But no.
- Tura Satana? Well that's different. No, but interesting guess.
- Vampira? Oh very interesting guess. But no.
- Jayne Mansfield? No. Unless you are a total Elvis freak you have never heard of this woman.
- Yvonne Lime. "Another studio spokesman said Miss Lime was refused admittance this week to the set where Presley is working." (Don't tell me you've never heard of her! She appeared in "High School Hellcats" and "Dragstrip Riot," and was Policewoman Gloria Harbor in "Dragnet 1967").
12. What was the name of the manager at radio station KEX who fired disc
jockey Al Priddy after he played Presley's recording of "White
Christmas?" What was the reason?
- Nobody even tried this one. How sad. KEX manager Mel Bailey said Al Priddy was fired because he played Presley's recording of "White Christmas." The record was banned at the Portland, Ore., station because "it is not in the good taste we ascribe to Christmas music. Presley gives it a rhythm and blues interpretation. It doesn't seem to me to be in keeping with the intent of the song," Bailey said.
Email me
Read on »
Oct. 29, 1957
Los Angeles
He came out of nowhere, barely a blip on the nation's radar in 1955
(according to Proquest, he wasn't mentioned even once in The Times that
year). But by 1957, he was an unstoppable sensation.
So when
Elvis Presley performed his first live concert in Los Angeles at the
Pan-Pacific Auditorium, The Times carried two reviews, perhaps sensing
a pivotal moment in American pop music.
Then again, maybe not.
One review was by Hollywood gossip columnist Hedda Hopper, by then
(Lord help me) 67 years old and accustomed to dealing with pliant movie
stars hungry for good press.* The other review was by (Lord help me)
George Walter Pearch, a.k.a. Wally George, 25, whose column, titled
"Strictly off the Record" and then "Court of Records," appeared in The
Times from 1957 to 1961 and heavily favored 1940s big band music.
The Times clips from the 1950s are a feast of Elvis trivia (What
famous movie star was booted off the university track team because he
refused to trim his Elvis-like sideburns? What famous Presley movie was
briefly titled "Treat Me Nice"?).
The 1957 stories are especially
illuminating as to how unaware people were that Presley's career was
merely beginning. He was compared to faded singers like Frankie Laine
and frequently came out second best to singers promoted as his rivals:
Pat Boone and Ricky Nelson.
But all those citations (including ads, news stories and TV listings, Presley's name
appeared in the paper 163 times in 1956 and 286 times in 1957, according to Proquest) are far
beyond the limits of this blog. So I'll stick to the concert.
Unfortunately, The Times apparently didn't send a photographer, so we have no pictures of what went on.
Before
the performance, Presley conducted a news conference before a fairly
hostile group of reporters in a back room of the Pan-Pacific. He was
wearing a black shirt, gold evening jacket and a rhinestone belt,
according to George.
Hopper and George noted that Presley was polite. Hopper called him "young, likable, wanting to please."
"He
was a pleasant, mild-mannered person who might have been any other
22-year-old young man," George wrote. "He was quiet, polite, somewhat
shy and made sure to sprinkle in plenty of 'sirs' when he answered
newsmen."
Here's the Q&A, reconstructed from George's articles:
Q: Unknown.
A: "I don't sing. I yell."
Q: Do you intend to change your presentation due to national criticism?
A: "I can't. It's all I can do."
Q: When will you write more songs?
A: "That's all a hoax. I can't even read music."
 Q: What about your guitar?
A: "Can't play it--use it as a brace."
Q: "What's your emotional power over women?" (Asked by a female reporter).
A: "Gosh..." replied Elvis, whispering something inaudible into a mike provided for the occasion.
Q:
"Read this!" snapped another reporter, shoving a magazine article into
Elvis' hands. It was an article written supposedly by Frank Sinatra
attacking the institution of rock 'n' roll music.
A: "I admire the man, he has a right to his own opinions," carefully replied the blackshirted Elvis.
Q: "That's all you have to say?"
A: "You can't knock success."
Q: Are you considering marriage?
A: No, he's enjoying playing the field too much.
Q: How long do you intend to wear your 2-inch sideburns?
A: Until Uncle Sam makes him shave them off, perhaps soon. He's 1-A.
Q: How much money are you making?
A: Over $1 million a year, he's not sure of the exact figures.
Q: What do you think of rock 'n' roll?
A: "It's the greatest ever, mainly because it's all I can do!"
For the statisticians among the Daily Mirror readers, Presley performed
for 50 minutes and sang 18 "of his biggest hits," including "Heartbreak
Hotel" and "Jailhouse Rock." The audience was estimated at 9,000.
Unfortunately,
not a note could be heard because of the shrieking audience, according
to Hopper as well as George, who also blamed a "frightfully poor audio
system."
"The screams came in a sort of rhythm like a great storm at sea so you couldn't hear a word he was singing," Hopper wrote.
"It wasn't an audience of just kids; whole families were there, nice
people. Dozens of policemen surrounded the stage but turned their backs
on Elvis to watch the audience and see that no one moved. They were
told if they got up or walked down the aisle toward Elvis the show
would be over."
"He smiled and the crowd screamed," George wrote. "He nodded his head
and they made as if to overrun the stage. The musical group behind him
struck a chord and Elvis opened his mouth as if to sing--nothing was
heard."
"Elvis rolled over and over on the floor, still clutching the mike,"
Hopper said. "but his performance isn't sickness. He knew what he was
doing.... You felt he was mentally saying to himself: 'Do you know an easier way of making a million a year?' "
She added: "In former days police would have been looking at the
performance [instead of watching the crowd]. I've seen performers
dragged off to jail for less."
And after it was all said and done, it sounds as if Hopper and George may have warmed to Presley:
Hopper wrote: "Elvis' audience got the emotional workout of their lives and screamed
their undying love for the greatest phenomenon I've seen in this
century."
After coming to Presley's defense against enraged critics, George said:
"Well, we don't particularly like his style either. But after observing
him closely at a press conference we feel that, as a person, he's not
too bad a kid."
I would like to salute the first Elvis impersonator apparently recorded in The
Times: A student dressed up like Elvis caused a riot at Corona High
School on March 6, 1957, during the school's weekly assembly. Students
began shrieking "We want Elvis!" The Times said, forcing Dean of Boys
Wayne Taylor to recruit every male teacher to quiet the crowd.
The student's name? Tony Colosimo. Wherever you are, Tony, here's to you!
Email me
*California death records list her date of birth as June 2, 1890.
You're wondering about those trivia questions. Surely there are Elvis fans out there who know the answers.
Read on »
Oct. 12, 1957
Burl Ives, who took off more than 40 pounds to play the part of the
viciously righteous father in "Desire Under the Elms,' was putting some
of it back on the other day at Frascati's and between bites took up the
slack on the three years since we last saw each other.
The word from Paramount is that Burl does a masterful job in the Eugene
O'Neill play. "I'm a heck of a villain," he confided with a booming
laugh.
Furthermore, it appears he'll be doing considerably more acting. He has been offered three important roles.
Despite his switch of emphasis from folk music to acting, Burl remains
the same hearty, uninhibited gentleman who gets a great kick out of
life.
His private passion is still boats. When he's in the East he lives
aboard the one that was reported this week as having gone aground in
New Jersey. "There was a 70-mile wind," he said, "but the men aboard
were all blue-water sailors." He can't figure what happened, not having
yet received a full account.
Since coming to Hollywood, Burl has acquired a shiny black 1934 Packard
phaeton Straight 8, a beautifully restored job with white leather
upholstery, red trim and pinstriping. You can't hardly get them like
that any more. I was curious about the name "Fosdick" neatly painted on
one door. Just a whim, he explained, then added, "Harry Emerson--not
Fearless."
What about folk music? It's as big as ever, he said, but in a different
way. It's no longer the sort of intellectual cult it used to be. It's
now accepted by people in all categories of society: businessmen,
professional men, housewives as well as devotees of pure Americana. In
a recent concert in Texas, he said, he broke the attendance record.
What's his feeling about being a big actor? It's nice work if you can
get it, he said, but it hasn't changed his way of life. He's still a
troubadour. For instance, he likes to go out at night and do a little
singing with friendly strangers.
And this is our thought for today--bearded Burl Ives, all 300 pounds of
him, guitar in hand, lumbering along the elegant Sunset Strip, where he
lives, looking in one bistro after another for convivial folk who might
like to join him in "Blue Tail Fly," "Barbara Allen" or "Jimmy Cracked
Corn"--and finding them.
KID STUFF -- Timmy
Deans, 3, is fascinated by all policemen. While his mother waited for a
signal to change, a motorcycle officer stopped alongside and Timmy,
enchanted, called out, "Hey, police, my mommy drive too fast. Give her
a tick!" The officer frowned fiercely, then smiled... A woman with two
little girls got on a bus on Catalina Island and the driver asked,
"Are they under 6?" The woman retorted menacingly, "Did you ask if my
girls are undersexed?"
THE PERIPATETIC
publicists are with us today. Al Hix, en route to Tripoli to do the
movie "No Time to Die," postcards from the island of Malta that he
asked for a Malta milk and the barmaid had to be dissuaded from taking
a poke at him... Jack Hirshberg writes from Munich, where Kirk Douglas
is making "The Vikings," that he forgot to put his pfennigs in a
parking meter and found a ticket under the windshield wiper. Seemed
like old times in Beverly Hills. But when he asked a nearby policeman
what to do about it, the officer wrote out a receipt, Jack handed him 2
marks--about 50 cents--and that was that.
ONLY IN L.A. -- A
man named Scotty gives his Pekingese half a Miltown when it has nervous
fits. Brings the Peke right out of it, he says... Civic Center cynics
were saying yesterday that it was very inconsiderate of Columbus to
have his birthday come this year on Saturday, already a holiday from
work.
FOOTNOTES -- An
attorney delivering an eloquent oration in an accident case in court
the other day had a distressing interruption. The bailiff fell asleep
and loudly snored... Agnes Moorehead, who created the classic role 14
years ago, will be doing "Sorry, Wrong Number" for the seventh time on
CBS radio's "Suspense" tomorrow... George T. Oussen, supervising the
smooth inaugural of Flying Tiger's nonstop freight service with a
43,000 payload, recalled the time in 1931 when another line started a
cargo service in Chicago and a live, crated pig got loose during the
loading and speaking ceremony, creating havoc, as the saying goes...
Mickey Grayson, maitre d' at the Park Wilshire Hotel, has a piece of a
$7 pool on which day of the week Sputnik will sputter out and
disappear.
Sept. 24, 1957
As dedicated ocean fishermen know, this is one of the greatest seasons in years for pulling in the elusive beauties of the deep.
For many years they've had to be satisfied with getting "skunked"
completely or with a few frustrating strikes or with hooking a few
confused mackerel, tired bass, surprised flounder, goggle-eyed perch or
bored tomcod.
Red Rowe, an ardent ocean fisherman, best expressed the situation the
other day in describing a foray about a mile off Oceanside. Suddenly,
all around the boat the water was rippling with a variety of eager,
hungry fish.
"I remember during the lean years when we used to catch a few
mackerel," he said. "I'd yearn for the hard, solid yank of a barracuda.
Well, there I was, trying to get my bait through the barracuda without
them grabbing it so I could get down to the yellowtail.
Red's more conspicuous talent, of course, is running the morning TV
show, "Panoramic Pacific," at which followers consider him more casual
than Como. Red, first name Ralph, will start his fifth year with the
program Nov. 16--some sort of record.
Naturally, some unscheduled incidents have taken place during this
interlude. There was the time the SS Monterey was about to set out on
an inaugural voyage on a new run from Los Angeles Harbor. The
ubiquitous Jayne Mansfield was present and during the proceedings Roy
Maypole approached her with a microphone and announced:
"And here's Mamie Van Doren!"
Red elbowed him and whispered. "That's Jayne Mansfield."
"Aw, put them all in a sack and they all look alike," said Roy. He is no longer with the show.
Not long ago Red received undeserved credit from up north. During the
station breaks each half-hour, distant outlets usually throw in local
commercials and the San Francisco station had a pitch which concluded,
"And more women wear this girdle than any other." At this moment the
show cut back to L.A. where Red had just warmly introduced an accordion
player who responded, "And it's all thanks to my good friend Red Rowe."
Red, by the way, has a solid musical background. He played guitar and trumpet with Tommy Dorsey and Johnny Long.
He broke into the kilocycle stuff with KRNT, Des Moines, and was a disc jockey for many years at KFWB.
As for the longevity of his program, Red says, "I guess the idea is to
try to keep people from getting sick of you." His formula is treating
viewers as over-the-fence neighbors.
Red lives in Encino and it's 13 miles to the studio. One thing he's
certain of--no matter how hard you try, you never get used to getting
up at 4 a.m.
A ROOKIE officer
in an elevator bringing a load of passengers down from the eighth-floor
cafeteria in the Police Building yesterday did a devastating job of
creating consternation.
He said to another rookie, "Gee, I'm sorry you have the Asian flu. Shouldn't you be in bed instead of running around like this?"
He was kidding, of course, but apparently the other passengers, jammed
shoulder to shoulder, didn't think so. By the time the elevator got to
the fifth floor only the two rookies remained.
"AS LONG AS we
seem to be acquiring the Dodgers, or vice versa," writes Monty C | |
As debris hit my face, the smell and the stinging bits reminded me of the firecrackers I'd played with as a child in Iowa. Then the crowd around Bobby parted and there was a man with a contorted face and a revolver, and shots were still being fired.
