"I never saw him rough-handle a man," recalled J.M.M., a bartender at the time in the old Belmont bar at 5th and Main Sts.,
"and there were some real characters running loose at the time." Among
them were white-bearded, white-robed, barefooted John the Baptist, a
turbaned Indian who claimed to be 350 years old, and a black-bearded
Russian known as Baron Gunpowder.

The Baron would appear at the
Belmont several times a week and order vodka, then virtually unknown.
He would pull the lead up from a .38-caliber shell with his teeth, pour
the powder into the vodka and gulp it down. Meanwhile he would tell of
being chased out of Russia during the revolution, although there was a
rumor that he sold papers at anintersection in Eagle Rock.

One
night the regular bartender was off duty and the substitute watched in
amazement as the Baron drank three gunpowder cocktails. But some of the
gunpowder spilled and the bartender touched a few grains of it to his
tongue. "Hey!" he exclaimed, "it's nothing but crushed Sen-Sen!" It was
then recalled that the Baron had always put the shells and bullets in
his pocket after using. He was never seen again.