Paul V. Coates–Confidential File

Sept. 3, 1957

Paul_coates
SUBJECT’S NAME: Linda Lee Morrell

SUBJECT’S DESCRIPTION: Age, 14.
Height, 5 feet, 3 inches. Weight, 110 pounds. Blue eyes. Fair hair.
Subject has mole on left cheek and scar under left eyebrow.

Anyone with information as to
subject’s whereabouts is requested to contact her mother, Mrs. Pat
Morrell, 10515 Haines Cayon, Ave., Tujunga, FL orida 3-6564.

There are women who enjoy crying in front of strangers.

And there are women who don’t.

And it’s my personal, biased estimate that 80% of those who break down
in front of reporters do so for reasons other than misery or suffering.

For centuries, women have neither underestimated nor underplayed the power of their tears.

But there’s also the 20%. The minority who try to hold back so hard
that you find yourself wishing they’d cry, before they explode.

It’s this category in which I put Mrs. Patricia Morrell.

She came in a few days ago to tell me about Linda Lee.

With controlled calm, she explained that maybe a story in the paper might help locate her daughter.

"It’s over 14 weeks now she’s been gone," she told me.

"It was May 23, a Thursday. I got up as usual–to go to work at 6. That is, I leave home at 6.

"Like every day, I woke her up just a little bit. I said ‘Goodbye, honey. Be a good girl.’

"And she said, ‘All right, Mommy. I’ll see you this afternoon.’ "

Mrs. Morrell blinked.

"I always picked her up after school," she explained.

"But I got there after work and didn’t see her. Then one of the girls came up to me. ‘Are you looking for Linda?’ she asked me.

"I said I was and she said, ‘She didn’t show up today, Mrs. Morrell.’

1957_0903_morrell_mug
"So I thought maybe she was sick, but she always called me at work if
she was sick. I guess I just didn’t know. I hurried home, of course,
but she wasn’t there…."

Mrs. Morrell reached into her handbag while describing her search. Then suddenly, she was talking about the night before.

"Linda was making some drapes for a friend of mine at work. I mentioned to her, ‘Why don’t you call Daddy?’

"He’s in Texas. We’ve been divorced nine years.

"So she said, ‘That’s an idea.’ You see, we were going to take a
vacation in June and she was going to visit him. She called and had a
nice talk and worked some more on the drapes.

"She’s a very good housekeeper. She cooks and irons and she’s getting
to be a very good seamstress. She’s better than I am at things like
that."

A handkerchief was in Mrs. Morrell’s hand now, and her eyes were blinking regularly.

"We did so many things together–almost like we were sisters. Swimming, skating, going to church, going to dances.

"There was really nothing you’d call family quarrels. Very seldom I’d have to scold her. Sometimes I’d get scolded, too."

I turned my head and Mrs. Morrell made a quick motion to her eyes.

"I suppose I should tell you that another girl left the same day. But she was in a fight.

"They told me that Linda was at the fight, too, but she didn’t actually
fight. Just two other girls. So I learned she had started to school,
anyway, because the fight was right by the school.

"I don’t know what to think. I know she’s all right, but if she is, why doesn’t she call me?

"I’m her mother and we’re so… Maybe, do you suppose she’s scared?"

On the word "scared" Mrs. Morrell’s voice broke. And the tears came.

She looked at me and asked:

"Why should a girl be scared of her mother?"

[Note: The Times reported that Linda might have left Los Angeles with Carol Curl, 13, but never followed up on the story of the missing girls–lrh.]

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How to Get–and Keep–a Husband

1957_0903_constance

Aug, 31-Sept. 3, 1957

Los Angeles

If it’s true that a woman without a man is like a fish without a
bicycle, then author Kate Constance wants every salmon to have a
Schwinn. She’s written a book on the subject, "How to Get and Keep a Husband," which is being serialized in the Mirror.

In Parts 6 and 7, Constance tells the fish where to meet bicycles and how to get dates!

How to meet a bicycle? Well, dear fish, the first challenge is to meet the right one, for there are many bad bicycles out there! 

The good news is that you needn’t move to another city just to find a
fresh crop of bikes. In fact, many fish make the mistake of moving
around the country prospecting for the lode of marriage prospects.
Constance says: Stop it! And here’s why:

"Many women who have gone to strange cities have confided in me that
their only means of meeting men is by pickups. These easy-come, easy-go
encounters usually result in futile, unhappy associations.

1957_0903_girdle

"The practice of the pickup has become increasingly prevalent in this
country, even tried by ‘nice’ girls who are desperate for
companionship. Almost any man who smiles at them across a bar or opens
his car door at the corner is acceptable. The prestige of women
generally has been lowered in the eyes of men by this practice.

"Frankly confused by the behavior of the opposite sex, men are often at
a loss about what women want and expect in standards of conduct, for
while they expect the treatment due a lady they nevertheless behave
like immoral women."

(At right, a courtship ritual of the 1950s: wearing a girdle and playing the castanets).

So how does the fish meet a nice bicycle? You might try selling swank
shirts in your spare time. We know one fish who did that and met a
marvelous bike. Another fish sold pipes in her spare time and in no
time was married to a wealthy tobacco grower. Still another used her
vacation time volunteering in politics and is now married to the mayor!
Two sisters volunteered with the local opera company. One of the fish
bagged an operatic tenor, the other went on tour and netted an European
nobleman!

You might also take up a trade that puts you in contact with lots of nice,
eligible bikes, Constance says. You could be a manicurist, drugstore
clerk or elevator operator. There’s also secretarial work, bookkeeping
and clerking.

Don’t forget, dear fish, that it’s the responsibility of married fish
to help their single sisters. It’s quite likely that you may become
friends with a nice couple who will introduce you to one of their
single bike friends.

One word of warning, dear fish: Do NOT flirt with your girlfriends’ husbands or bad things will happen.

"No matter how trivial or how much in jest, abstain from familiarities
of word or action with your friend’s husband. There should be nothing
to suggest even the slightest interest in the husband beyond what you
might evince toward a business acquaintance in your office.

"I have seen single women after taking a couple of drinks make fools of
themselves with silly, although perhaps meaningless, passes at the
husbands of their friends. As a result, they were ostracized from those
circles."

Oh my!

Now that you have met an eligible bicycle, how do you get him to ask you out? Certainly not with a pickup!

The secret, dear fish, is that bicycles crave the spotlight. If you put
a bike at center stage he’s already where you want him! Just don’t let
him know he’s being hunted.

Here’s a case study:

Over six months, a fish rode the elevator with an attractive bicycle.
One rainy morning, when the two of them had the elevator to themselves,
she noticed he was wearing a bright red tie and said: "Every man could
brighten up these rainy days if he wore a good-looking tie like that.
I’ll bet your wife suggested that one."

This was a two-step process in which the shrewd fish could be cheerful and find out if the bicycle was married. 

 "Oh, I’ve got a jillion," said the unsuspecting bicycle. "A jillion
ties and no wife. I have ties from many parts of the world. Sort of a
hobby."

"Where did that one come from?" asked the fish. "Let me guess."

"Think about it," he suggested. "I’ll see if you guess right when I come out for coffee at 10:30."

So at 10:30 he came by. They went to coffee and she made several guesses (wrong every time, can you believe it?).

OK, so they didn’t get married but they had some nice dates and she
eventually married his brother, who presumably didn’t have a neckwear
fetish.

Here are some of Constance’s do’s and don’ts for dating:

1. Use "sweet feminine mystery." Constance invokes the "Mona Lisa": "I dare you to come hither–but don’t touch!"

2. Use moderation. Expensive looks and lavish talk frighten a bicycle.

3. Be nice, be reserved, be classy. Don’t be a smart-mouthed fish and don’t be too talkative or he’ll think you’re dumb or foolish.

4. Be gracious. Don’t be a snob or he’ll think you’re judging him, too.

5. Look good. Femininity is
more than classic features and expensive clothes, Constance says. "She
who is womanly, dainty and clean and elegantly fragrant sums up the
basic feminine appeal."

Hints for getting beyond the first date:

1957_0903_mocambo
A bicycle asks a fish for a second date if she makes him feel
comfortable and relaxed, she’s understanding and sympathetic, she’s
considerate and she looks good.

And what about the bedroom?

Constance has some very 1957 advice for the fish:

"Any realistic view of the problem recognizes the element of sex. This
stimulates and elevates the relationship if retained in proper
proportion. But it cheapens and more often destroys the meaningful part
of a friendship if allowed to get out of control.

" ‘Sexual satisfaction’ is omitted from this list because a man of good
standards does not include free love in his dating requisites."

And what if a bicycle expects sex after several dates? Drop him and
don’t lose a bit of sleep over it, Constance says! Why? Because, dear
fish, that’s your marriage bait, she says.

"She should lure him with a certain amount of physical attractiveness
but withhold all sexual compliance as the logical reward of marriage."

[Note: In case there is any doubt, let me add: As with the horoscopes, this is for entertainment purposes only.–lrh]

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Experiment?

Sept. 3, 1957
Los Angeles

1957_0903_rawson

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What is THAT?

Sept. 3, 1957
Los Angeles

1957_0903_edsel02

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Judith Mae Andersen update

A little more research in the Judith Mae Andersen case has unearthed some interesting facts about the bucket used to dispose of her head and other remains.

Recall that Chicago
police officials said the bucket was so rare that they couldn’t find
another one to show prospective witnesses. There’s a good reason:
En-Ar-Co motor oil was sold in Canada.

A website I found through Google Canada provided the following information:

This style of bucket was used from about 1939 (or the late 1940s) to 1952.

Here’s the bucket from the killing:

1957_0921_trib_andersen_can

And here are some modern photos. Note that the buckets are bright, industrial yellow (easier to spot in Lake Michigan than, for example, a black bucket):

Photo 1

Enarco_manequin_can

Photo 2

Enarco_cans_collection

I’ve e-mailed the two collectors to see if I can get a better picture.

Stay tuned.

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Wheel-o-meal

 

1957_0902_scrivner

Sept. 2, 1957

Los Angeles

1957_0902_scrivner_mug
Let’s suppose you’re a clever businessman. And let’s suppose your city
has the nation’s busiest intersection: In three days, 205,022 cars pass
through Wilshire Boulevard and Western Avenue. Along with nine
horse-drawn milk wagons.

Horses? You see, it’s 1928, and Charles Wesley Scrivner, who died Sept.
1, 1957, is going to build a drive-in at Wilshire and Western.

Or so it says in Scrivner’s obituary in The Times, which reported that
he opened one of the nation’s first drive-ins in 1928 at Wilshire and
Western, and the Mirror, which declared it to be the first in the
country.

Tracking down the truth is a little more difficult. The Times lists
several early drive-in restaurants (southwest corner of Crenshaw and
Vernon, July 27, 1930; northeast corner of Beverly and Rosemont, Sept.
21, 1930; Coffee Cup Drive-In Cafe, 9180 W. Pico July 26, 1931; Bogen’s
3201 Wilshire at Vermont, 1933).

The Times also wrote about several drive-in markets in the period
(Hollywood and Kingsley, March 4, 1928; Camden and Brighton, June 10,
1928; Sunset near Western, July 1, 1928; 6th Street between Alexandria
and Kenmore, Oct. 21, 1928; Western and Florence, Dec. 16, 1928). But
again, nothing at Wilshire and Western.

What do know is that Scrivner came to Los Angeles in 1912 and was a
salesman for Meek-Barnes Baking Co. In 1921, he helped found 4-S Baking
Co. with Frederick G. Scalzo and two unidentified men who presumably
had an S in their names. The company was sold to Interstate Bakeries
Corp. in 1930.

Scrivner opened the drive-in with Harry Carpenter, who ran a chain of
drive-ins bearing his name. Scrivner was also on the boards of Henry’s
Drive-Ins and Hody’s Restaurants and was a part owner of Thriftimart
groceries.

Scrivner, 66, was a 32nd-degree Mason and a member of Al Malaikah Shrine Temple.

As for the story of the purported Wilshire/Western Drive-In, presumably
it’s serving burgers and malts in L.A. history heaven. If you have any
more information, let me know.

Bonus fact: Harry Carpenter killed himself with a shotgun blast to the
chest, July 24, 1954, while sitting on the steps to his basement at 625
Cumberland Road, Glendale. He was 67.

Bonus fact: According to the 1928 traffic survey, 1,388 trucks went
through Western on Wilshire in 24 hours, even though trucks were
supposedly banned on Wilshire.

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Below, The Times rants about Los Angeles’ traffic problems in 1928. As I keep saying, Los Angeles’ traffic problems go back at least a century and defy simple answers.

1928_226_traffic_2

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Great moments in advertising

1957_0830_ad

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Literary diversions

The Times pans "On the Road," Oct. 4, 1957. "The Deadbeat Generation?" Ouch.

1957_1004_kerouac

Continue reading →

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Back to school

 

1957_0828_fashion

Aug. 28, 1957

Los Angeles

It’s almost time for school to open, parents, so here’s some tips in shopping for new clothes. And there’s lots to cheer about!

"Boys are turning their backs on the sloppy, bizarre clothing fads
that once had parents and teachers alike in a state of shock," says
Bill Holzhauser, men’s fashion editor at the Mirror. "This year, when
they answer the school bell, most of them will be dressing right in
neater and more handsome outfits."

 

1957_0828_boys_fashions_2

What’s in for boys? Think Ivy League. The lads have come to their
senses and are starting to abandon those awful, scruffy blue jeans,
thank heavens, in favor of neat, trim Ivy League trousers–at least for
school. "Cavalry twill trousers styled in the Ivy fashion" are selling
well, stores report.

And if your boys are hard on their clothes (aren’t they all?) try the
miracle Klondike cloth. It’s the toughest fabric known to mankind and
was developed for the Army, which knows a few things about back to school wear, especially in Little Rock, Ark.!

Shirts go Ivy as well, in plaids and checks with button-down collars,
and complete the look with a bulky, shapeless cardigan sweater!

This year’s fashion crime for boys: Long coats are in. The Eisenhower jacket is as dead as Mussolini!

 

1957_0828_girls_fashions

For girls, think Chanel, says Jean Gallagher, the Mirror’s fashion editor:

"Dresses with complementary Orlon or wool sweaters (often trimmed with
appliques of the dress fabric) should be popular with the littlest set.
So should plaid cotton dresses and jumpers of all types.

"With high school girls, the influence is that of the easy, casual
attitude initiated by French designer Chanel. This means jackets with
square shoulders worn open over blouses or sweaters… pleated
skirts…brass buttons and gobs of golden chain jewelry."

And moms, don’t forget "Gimmick belts with all kinds of dangles, sloppy
Joe Shetland sweaters, pop-it pearls that are dyed to match sweater
colors and anything nautical."

 

1957_0926_little_rock

Above, what the smartly dressed teens of Little Rock, Ark.’s Central High are wearing back to school.

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Paul V. Coates–Confidential File

Aug. 30, 1957

Paul_coates
By sundown today, condemned killer Billy Rupp may find his life saved by the same jurors who, five years ago, ordered his death.

In a move unprecedented in penal annals, five of the Rupp case jury
members have signed affidavits in a last-ditch attempt to spare him
from San Quentin’s gas chamber next Friday.

Four more are expected to join them by nightfall.

Their affidavits state:

"I would not have voted for the death penalty had it been known to me
that there was a method whereby William Francis Rupp could be
incarcerated for life without possibility of parole."

The statements are to be given to Gov. Goodwin Knight, the last man between the 23-year-old Yorba Linda beekeeper and death.

The appeal of the jurors is not one outlined in the state law books.

It is, rather, a moral plea by persons who didn’t want Rupp, the slayer
of Ruby Ann Payne, 15-year-old babysitter, to walk the streets of
society again, but who were offered no choice other than a death
verdict to prevent him from doing so.

California statutes do not permit a jury to sentence a person to life imprisonment with no possibility of parole.

1952_0809_payne
So, without this choice, the eight women and four men who heard Rupp’s
case took the only course they felt would protect society.

And, in August of 1952, they found him guilty of first-degree murder. Their silent, automatic verdict was death.

At the time, Rupp was declared legally sane.

But testimony by private psychiatrists and physicians that the youth
was organically and mentally deranged was not allowed into the court
record because of the wide breech between legal and medical definitions
of insanity.

Six time since his first execution date was set, Rupp has won stays on
appeals through the courts. One of them came only 15 minutes before he
was due to die.

But one by one, all avenues of appeal were blocked off.

His final chance–a petition for a writ of certiorari before the U.S.
Supreme Court–is expected to be turned down within a few days.

It leaves only Gov. Knight between Billy Rupp and death.

And it was this realization which, just two days ago, sparked a
dramatic search for the 12 jurors who five years ago doomed an
18-year-old boy with a brain damaged in infancy to death.

The search was started by Santa Ana attorneys George Chula and James C.
Monroe, two of the four volunteer defense lawyers now working the case.

With the aid of Pat Michaels, news editor of the Santa Ana Radio
Station KWIZ, they located nearly all of the jurors. Michaels put out
hourly appeals for the jurors to contact the attorneys.

Then Chula, with his firm’s special investigator, Jim Burton, talked to those contacted.

"Once we had explained the situation," Chula told me, "the jurors were more than happy to sign the affidavits."

Among the first to sign was Mrs. Lucille Lanford of Santa Ana, who five
years ago held out against a death verdict for 28 1/2 hours before
giving in "to fatigue and other pressures."

"At the time," she told Chula yesterday, "I believed that in certain
cases the death penalty was all right. With Rupp, our choice was either
to kill him or leave it to chance that he might be turned free again in
the future.

"But now," she added, "this whole case has me so mixed up, I don’t think I even believe in capital punishment any more."

Juror Thomas O’Brien of Buena Park stated:

"I’m doing it purely in the interests of justice. I hope it will do some good."

1952_0813_rupp

Chula, who interrupted his vacation in the East to return to the case,
stated that all of the former jurors who signed affidavits said they
knew that Rupp, discharged from a mental institution at the age of 14,
was "not normal."

It’s something that psychiatrists, physicians and the boy’s own father,
William Francis Rupp Sr., had insisted long before the boy committed
his almost inevitable crime.

Dr. Samuel Marcus, an L.A. psychiatrist called in to treat the boy when
he was 14, had predicted that Rupp, if not taken out of society, would
commit a major crime.

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How to Get–and Keep–a Husband

1957_0830_constance

Aug. 30, 1957

Los Angeles

If it’s true that a woman without a man is like a fish without a
bicycle, then author Kate Constance wants every salmon to have a
Schwinn. She’s written a book on the subject, "How to Get and Keep a Husband," which is being serialized in the Mirror.

In Part 5, Constance tells the aspiring fish how to snare a bicycle
without arousing his delicate suspicions. And she also advises the fish
on preparing herself for marriage–especially if she is forced to keep
working!

For the fact is, dear fish, that the bicycle is, by nature, a hunter
and hates to feel hunted by a fish intent on marriage. Nothing is more
likely to chase away a prospective bike than a wily, scheming fish,
Constance writes.

1957_0830_recipe
"Men are usually afraid of the wary-eyed matrimonial huntress,"
Constance writes.  "Marrying should be right at the top of a woman’s
thought processes, but she had better not let the man know it!" she
says.

Consider this comment from
a wary but eligible bicycle: "I am not keen about making new female
friends. Ninety-nine out of 100 start putting their claws into a man
and try to hold him fiercely to the path toward marriage if he so much
as asks them out to dinner or a dance now and then. It would be so
refreshing if women treated new men friends as intelligent beings and
not just dumb brutes standing around waiting to be taken into marriage."

First, Constance gives a few don’ts:

1. Don’t use your bicycle as a convenient escort or errand boy.

2. Don’t use your bicycle as a meal ticket or way out of a crummy job.

And a few do’s to prepare the fish for married life:

1. A married fish must be prepared to give more than she receives.

    "With that realistic outlook, she will not be disillusioned
by the demands that necessarily come with a wedding ring. She never
should expect marriage to solve any financial, emotional or social
problems," Constance writes.

2. If the fish must continue to work after marriage, she must be gracious.

    "Brutal but true is the fact that many working wives
sadistically enjoy needling their husbands over the fact that they are
‘forced’ to work outside the home," Constance writes.

    "If the bride decides to continue working, she should do it
graciously, never reminding her husband that her paycheck is necessary
for many of the luxuries or near-luxuries she craves. Even if she has
to work for the basic necessities, she should keep her mouth shut on
the subject if she wants a successful marriage."

[Note: In case there is any doubt, let me add: As with the horoscopes, this is for entertainment purposes only.–lrh]

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Fried Rice

 

1957_0829_rice

Aug. 29-30,
1957


Los Angeles

1957_0829_rice_mug
The poor thing died as hardboiled as she had lived: Renting a junky
room in an old house that had been cut up into apartments. The landlord
said she’d been sick for the last week. He was another writer, like
her, and I wonder if he took her in because he felt sorry for her.

She got her long line of names from a long line of husbands: Georgiana
Ann Randolph Fallows Ferguson Lipton De Mott Bishop. She met the last
one, another writer, on her second trip to Camarillo, where her
daughter put her to see if they could boil her out.

Everybody knew her as Craig Rice, author of "Having a Wonderful Crime,"
"Trial by Fury" and "The Lucky Stiff." Sometimes she used another pen
name, Daphne Sanders.

The landlord of the house at 457 S. Serrano, R. DeWitt Miller,
said she had been sick in bed for about a week and had taken a bad fall
earlier in the day. She told him she was having an attack of malaria
and asked him to get some quinine from the drugstore. He told her she
should call a doctor, but she refused.

Two tenants found her sprawled across the bed and frothing at the
mouth. James McNamara, a news editor at a radio station, and Richard
Terry, an ad man, said they tried to revive her after calling an
ambulance but she was dead when it arrived.

The whole place was strewn with cigarette butts and burned-out kitchen
matches, and her purse was in a wicker hamper near the door, spattered
with blood, The Times said. A globe of the world had fallen to the
floor along with a open book: "A Family Treasury of Children’s
Stories."

Her pink eyeglasses were lying on a copy of her latest book, "Knocked
for a Loop," next to her portable typewriter on a desk cluttered with
more junk: A stuffed rabbit, Madonna and Child, and an empty vodka
bottle. Beneath her ashtray were two bad checks, one for $60, the other
for $410, returned for insufficient funds.

There was a wobbly pile of books on her nightstand and a
painting of her mother on the wall, hanging above a fake mantel. "A somber oil portrait of a lovely woman of
another era," The Times said.

She showed an early flair for drama, having been born in a carriage at
Michigan Avenue and 12th Street in Chicago. She began writing poetry
when she was 9 and got her first newspaper job when she was 18. Along
the way, she wrote songs, publicity, a gardening column (she won a
prize for her petunias), movie scenarios and had three children.

1957_0830_rice_desk

Dr. Frederick Newbarr, the medical examiner, said more tests were
needed to determine the cause of death. The Times never reported on
the results.

Georgiana
Ann Randolph Fallows Ferguson Lipton De Mott Bishop, author of "My Kingdom for a Hearse," was 49.

Bonus fact: Earl Derr Biggers, the author of the Charlie Chan mysteries, lived at 2000 E. California Blvd., San Marino.

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Remedy for road rage

Aug. 29, 1957
Los Angeles

So that’s why we have platinum spark plugs….

1957_0829_platinum

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True confessions

Florabel_muir02

Photograph by the Los Angeles Times

Los Angeles reporter and columnist Forabel Muir with a copy of her book, "Headline Happy."

Aug. 30, 1957

Los Angeles

What’s with all these marriage quizzes? How about some blood and gore?

Believe it or not, I’m no crime fan and it’s draining to dig through the details of a gruesome case like the Judith Mae Andersen killing. I needed some comic relief.

But since you asked, here’s some stories we’re following:

  • The Confidential magazine trial. Most of the scandal magazine’s
    dirt comes prostitutes, ex-lovers and  other lowlifes. But film
    director Michael Todd, the husband of Elizabeth Taylor? Actually, yes.
    But he can explain.
  • The fatal beating of San Pedro attorney Milo S. Smith,
    who was found bound and bloody and was "kneed or kicked to death," The
    Times says.
  • A hearing for James Merkouris, who was once confined to a
    soundproof box because of his courtroom outbursts. The proceedings were
    conducted while he was spread-eagled on his back with five deputies
    holding him down.
  • The Dodgers aren’t satisfied with 200 acres in Chavez Ravine. They want 350 acres, but the city doesn’t own all that land.

Stay tuned…..

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How to Get–and Keep–a Husband

1957_0829_constance

Aug. 29, 1957

Los Angeles

If it’s true that a woman without a man is like a fish without a
bicycle, then author Kate Constance wants every salmon to have a
Schwinn. She’s written a book on the subject, "How to Get and Keep a Husband," which is being serialized in the Mirror.

Part 4 is the installment I’ve been waiting for, because Constance
finally addresses the male part of the equation. It’s not pretty, dear
fish, because now that you’re ready for a bicycle, the task is to pick
the right one. And, between us salmon, it’s not easy. There are lots of
bad bicycles out there!

This is what to look for so that
you get a 10-speed and not some clunker, because
if you’re wasting time with that old beater bike, some nice beach
cruiser is getting away!

Or as Constance says: "Many lovely girls have suffered damaging
emotional upset because of long and fruitless romances with men who
selfishly monopolize their social time, driving away other possible
suitors, yet never get around to proposing. The effect upon a woman’s
ego can be pitiful."

"Remember — there are thousands of single male delinquents in our
country who are shams foisting their spurious attentions upon women
whom they have no intention of marrying." [Ouch!! It hurt my fingers
just to type that–lrh].

How do you pick a bicycle? Ask yourself: Is he fish-worthy?

1957_0829_beck021. Is he a cheapskate? We’re
not talking about Mr. Constance, who "practically popped with gratitude" when
Constance suggested an economical night on the town. No, Mr. Tightwad
asks you out for a late date so he doesn’t have to spring for dinner.
Ice cream and a drive are more his speed. Even worse: "He never sends
flowers or candy or a book but borrows good literature and even the
evening paper!"

2. Does he blow his dough? Mr.
Easy Come, Easy Go is just as bad as Mr. Tightwad, Constance says. He
can’t be cured, "and the woman who ties her destiny to him is taking a
very long chance!"

3. Is he a boudoir bum? You
know what I mean, dear fish. This is the bicycle that will take and
take and take and never come across with an engagement ring. Mr. BB
doesn’t want love, he doesn’t want marriage and he most certainly does
not want children, Constance says. Mr. BB always has "some hopeful
female on the string to give him all the sexual attention he wants. She
yields to him in the hope that their physical relationship will foster
enough love to induce him to propose.

"Poor, foolish female!"

4. Is he a perfectionist? Mr.
Perfect is always frustrated because nothing else in life–especially
you, dear fish–is perfect. Is the furniture a bit dusty? A sin! Is the
seam on your stocking crooked? Even worse! Does he correct you when you
mispronounce words? Run like the wind!

5. Is he, errrrrr, uhhhhh, ummmm gay? Of
course, this is 1957, so Constance phrases the question a bit
differently. Is he "abnormal?" "A type sometimes harder to recognize
than you may believe," Constance says. "Some are highly social and give
the outward appearance of being good marriage prospects, but never
carry a romance forward toward marriage. They like to escort pretty
women in public as a social shield.

"Men of this type are selfish cheats taking up a woman’s valuable time and arousing false hopes in her heart.

"How can a woman discern the truth in a situation of this kind? If such
a suspicion enters her mind, she might enlist the services of another,
trusted man friend. Usually men can recognize telltale characteristics
forever hidden from a woman’s perception."

6. Is he Jack Daniels’ best friend? Maybe you can work a miracle
but why handicap yourself, because Mr. JDBF is going to have lots of
other problems to go with the drinking.

Here’s some bikes worth riding:

1. New and not broken in yet. If you’re a young fish, getting a young and inexperienced bicycle is the best, "so you can grow and build together"

2. The old, carefully maintained bike.
You may need to be patient, dear fish: "Even if they have become set in
their ways, a woman’s love and patient guidance eventually can lead
them into the broadening path of family life."

Sometimes the older bike is good because he’s already housebroken,
Constance says, at least if he’s a widower. But the man who has been
divorced several times, "is not a matrimonial prize."

Some final thoughts: "A woman must overlook age, physical appearance
and small faults in favor of character, dependability and kindness."

[Note: In case there is any doubt, let me add: As with the horoscopes, this is for entertainment purposes only.–lrh]

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Paul V. Coates–Confidential File

Paul_coates_2
Aug. 29, 1957

Lynn Stuart didn’t fall into a terror machine.

She jumped in, voluntarily.

When she did so, she was living in an outwardly quiet and clean Santa
Ana community. She was married to a truck driver. She was raising two
infant sons.

The neighbors liked her. The police didn’t even known she existed. And
those who operated in the dark corners of her town just plain ignored
her.

But, almost overnight, all of that changed.

She took a job as a waitress in a small cafe not far from her home. She met and mixed with a bad crowd.

She learned the "language" they spoke. And shortly afterward she began dealing in the products.

She started making "buys"–of pills and marijuana and heroin.

What her new associates thought of her is hard to say.

But the feelings of her neighbors and friends, and of the police, were not hidden.

The police began staking out on her home, shaking her down when she left work. A few times, they threw her in jail on suspicion.

1957_0829_powers
The neighbors and friends were more subtle. They just stopped talking to her.

To this point, Lynn Stuart’s story differs little from the stories of dozens of others who became involved with narcotics.

But there is a major difference.

Lynn Stuart became entangled in the horror-web of dope out of a feeling of civic duty.

She was neither an addict nor a pusher.

She was, instead, an undercover narcotics agent.

Her nonpaying job began in 1951. She appeared at the sheriff’s
narcotics investigation bureau and stated, innocently, that she had
heard about the seriousness of the problem and wanted to do something
about it.

She had two infant sons, she explained, who might someday be affected.

The sheriffs checked her background, warned her of the dangers and put
her to work. Assignment No. 1 was to become a waitress in her
neighborhood cafe–a suspected hangout.

At the time, she didn’t know marijuana from dried cabbage, but her ignorance worked beautifully to her advantage.

Who would suspect you of being a narco agent if you couldn’t even use the jargon?

Everything worked almost too well, in fact.

Because Lynn Stuart became so successful, so deeply involved, that she practically cut off any personal retreat.

She made all the parties. She took trips to Tijuana with "friends"
who’d tie 50-pound sacks of marijuana under their cars, or hide a few
ounces of "H" in a secret stash compartment under the dashboard.

She attended the big weekend parties in Balboa and Newport. (Both communities were loaded with narcotics, she told me).

And she continued making "buys" up to $300.

Lynn Stuart’s husband was the only outsider who knew of her job. He
wasn’t enthusiastic about it, but he didn’t try to convince her to
quit. He trusted the sheriffs, who gave her every protection possible.

The Stuart’s house was ransacked a few times after she had made some
substantial "buys"–to disprove rather plainly the old bit about honor
among thieves.

But while Lynn Stuart minimizes the dangers to herself and her family, it’s obvious that they were always there.

Because during her six years of undercover work, she supplied information to catch and convict nearly 30 pushers.

That’s not easy to do without arousing heavy suspicions.

I talked to Lynn Stuart (a pseudonym) yesterday. She’s through now–just a plain housewife, bringing up two sons.

Her experiences were pretty terrifying, she admits. But she wouldn’t trade them.

"When I was in a tight situation," she told me, "I was afraid till I got out of it. Then it was over.

"But what used to send me home crying was watching the kids–the teenagers–get hooked.

"They could have been my kids in a few more years.

"Helping put some vicious people out of circulation–I guess that’s what made it so worthwhile."

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Paul V. Coates–Confidential File

Paul_coates
Aug. 27, 1957

SUBJECTS’ NAMES: Trudy, 6, Terry, 9, and Kim, 11, Ingram.

SUBJECTS’ DESCRIPTIONS: All have blue eyes, light brown hair. Trudy and Terry, stocky build. Kim, slender.

Anyone with information as to their whereabouts is asked to contact Harvey Ingram, 1132 S. Holt Ave., Phone, WE bster 1-1501

Harvey Ingram’s three children disappeared 14 months ago.

Today, he doesn’t even know if they’re dead or alive.

But in police language, they’re not "missing persons." They aren’t, because they disappeared with their mother.

To the police, Harvey Ingram’s problem is (or was, until recently) a
domestic one. If he ever wants to see them again, it’s up to him to
find them.

That’s the official attitude of our law enforcement bodies.

It’s a harsh one, but, in a way, it’s a very necessary one. Because if
the police found themselves dragged into every domestic entanglement in
which participants sought their aid, they’d have little time for
anything else.

The problem faced by Harvey Ingram is not unlike that of dozens of other husbands who emerge from California’s divorce courts.

With rare exception, the mother–if at all fit–gets custody of the
children. And from there, she has little difficulty slipping out of
sight and leaving her ex-husband with two unpleasant surprises.

He can conduct an often expensive personal search and if he locates
them, return to court (more expense) to request that his visitation
privileges be absolutely enforced.

Or he can wait with the unlikely hope that someday they’ll reappear.

Harvey Ingram selected the first.

1957_0827_coates

And so far, his reward has been only additional expenses.

Ingram, a food distributor, and his wive, Vivian, were married in 1945.
They separated eight years later and received their interlocutory
decree in November of 1955.

It was a clean divorce. No scandal.

And Ingram, who didn’t contest his wife’s suit, came out of it better
than most men do. He had been a good provider, and a clergyman
testified that he’d never seen a stronger relationship between father
and children.

The court psychologist recommended maximum visitation rights.

And the judge awarded him alternate weekends, certain holidays, plus
half of the summer. Ingram was to pay $120 a month child support. His
wife’s alimony request was denied.

But then, according to Ingram, the trouble started. He says that on
several occasions his wife wouldn’t live up to the visitation order.

He adds: "I would have to have been a millionaire to go back to court
on each violation." He, of course, was stuck with both attorneys’ fees.

Then, on June 24 of last year, his wife and three children disappeared.

Immediately, Ingram sought help. He was turned down by the police and
sheriff’s office. It was a month before he could get the court to issue
a subpoena on his wife. A deputy tried to serve it at her last known
address. Naturally, she wasn’t there.

It couldn’t be served through her attorney, either, because she had withdrawn her papers.

When it became evident that the only way the subpoena could be served
was if Ingram personally located his wife, he began a painstaking
search.

He traced her and the children to Tucson, Ariz., lost the trail, picked
it up again. But he never found her. He checked with city and county
schools here. He checked with the state motor vehicle department. He
checked lots of places.

Finally, last month, he got the court to issue a bench warrant for her arrest.

But it’s just a piece of paper until the police accidentally stumble
across her, or his continued search finally pays a dividend.

Ingram talks like a man who’s very devoted to his children.

He talks like a man who won’t quit searching till he finds them.

And maybe, someday, he will, in spite of some California divorce laws which almost make the state a party to his misfortune.

 
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How to Get–and Keep–a Husband

 

1957_0828_constance

Aug. 28, 1957

Los Angeles

If it’s true that a woman without a man is like a fish without a
bicycle, then author Kate Constance wants every salmon to have a
Schwinn. She’s written a book on the subject, "How to Get and Keep
a Husband," which is being serialized in the Mirror.

In Part 3, she asks: Are you made for marriage? And she cautions fish
on the difference between getting a marriage proposal–and being
propositioned.

Constance is blunt: "If you are 30 years old and aren’t married,
something is wrong. That something is not necessarily wrong with you.
Perhaps it is in your environment or circumstances.

1957_0828_constance_pix
"But very likely it is you–your attitudes, your personality, your objectives or your appearance."

Because for every fish that’s ready for marriage, there is a bicycle
waiting to be ridden, she says. But are you ready? Here’s the Made for
Marriage quiz:

1. Are you over 30? Are you
having a pity party because you aren’t married? Are you "drowning your
disappointment in work, reading, all-girl activities and family
interests?"

2. Do you have physical deficiencies? "If you are burdened with a deformity or defect, do you almost hate yourself for it and envy those who are happily married?"

3. Not have an education? Does
your lack of learning keep you in a bad job and exclude you from
situations where you might meet eligible men? Or do you avoid social
situations because you are afraid you’ll say something stupid?

4. Are you broke? Do you think that money will solve all your problems and do you envy people who have more than you?

5. Are you homely? "Is your
face or your figure so unbecoming that you cringe when you look in the
mirror?" Worse yet, do you think men make fun of your looks?

6. Are you a 5 in a world of 10s? Are you so fed up with trying to look good, feel good and be good that you want to give up and become a slob?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, you are not a fish who is ready for a bicycle!

Because many of the things you want so much don’t matter to men, Constance says.

To be sure, she says, money, youth and a good figure get male
attention. But more often than not, the fish won’t get a marriage
proposal–she’ll get propositioned!

Constance warns: "Too many women, finding it difficult to win a
husband, resort to every available physical means to arouse and satisfy
the males they attract. In so doing, they destroy the very codes and
standards they would prefer to live by." Or as Charlie Chan might say:
"Girl who do everything under sun get everything sunburned."

And Constance says looks are less important than you imagine. Because regardless
of what you think, a bicycle will ask a beautiful fish up to his apartment, but not down the aisle.

"Men shy from married life with a woman who is too
good-looking, fearing that she may overshadow him, that she will prove
to be selfish and spoiled, and that she may be unfaithful," Constance says.

"The sad truth is that a beautiful woman too often feels that character
and personality are unnecessary, and that she has all she needs to get
by–until age creeps up and takes her most precious asset."

And age is truly unimportant, Constance says. The problem is that some
fish have an inferiority complex because they are over 30.

What do bicycles want from fish? "Emotional maturity, poise,
considerateness, intellectual stimulation and efficient homemaking."
None of which have anything to do with money, looks or age!

Her final advice: Be your better self.

[Note: In case there is any doubt, let me add: As with the horoscopes, this is for entertainment purposes only.–lrh]

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Not on Netflix

1957_0828_colossal

Aug. 28, 1957
Los Angeles

Incredibly enough, The Times failed to review this double feature from American International Pictures. Take my word for it, though: Bad things happen.

How did AIP come up with such classics? In 1958, The Times’ Philip K. Scheuer interviewed James H. Nicholson and Samuel Z. Arkoff to find out. Nicholson and Arkoff said the typical AIP feature was shot in eight to 10 days for about $150,000 ($1,074,792.57 USD 2006). In a reverse of conventional thinking (drawing a wide audience with two diverse films) they released double bills that would appeal to the same audience, a lesson Nicholson learned in reissuing "Grapes of Wrath" and "Tobacco Road."

Here’s some tips for the next Tarantino.

Nicholson:

"Our pictures are made primarily for the 8-to-21 groups. Science fiction and horror, about 50%; war films also; teenage stories.

"We do our planning backwards: Get what sounds like a title that will arouse interest [Think: "Dragstrip Girl" and "Night of the Blood Beast"], then a monster or gimmick; then figure what our advertising is going to consist of.

"Then we bring in a writer to provide a script to fit the title and concept.

"Now we bring in the producer–though he may have been in during the writing of the script earlier. Four of our producers are also writers and one, [Roger] Corman is also a director."

Arkoff:

"In the whole organization, many double in jobs. Basically we’re merchandisers, so it’s easier when we work with fewer people, the ones we know can match the concept we have in mind."

Nicholson:

"The titles are simple and don’t leave any doubt what the picture is about." [Think: "Attack of the Puppet People."]

Arkoff:

"Titles, monsters and gimmicks are the stars. If these can’t attract, we have missed the merchandising boat."

Nicholson:

"But we must keep coming up with different ideas than heretofore."

Nicholson and Arkoff like science fiction because "there is no other form of storytelling for which you can call upon your imagination."

But their favorite double bill so far?

"Machine Gun Kelly" and "The Bonnie Parker Story."

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How to Get–and Keep–a Husband

1957_0827_constance_hed

Aug. 27, 1957

Los Angeles

Now that a fish has landed a bicycle,
how does she hang on to it? Kate Constance gives the answers in the
second installment of "How to Get and Keep a Husband" being serialized
in the Mirror.

Remember this is getting and keeping a husband, 1957-style, so her
advice has nothing to do with "The Wild Thing That Will Keep His Coming
Back for More!" as featured in all those Cosmo cover stories. Her rules
are more along the lines of "don’t nag," "don’t ogle other men while
your husband is around" and "lose the extra pounds, ladies."

Constance portrays men as simple creatures:

"Every man has in the back of his mind a vision of the kind of woman he would like to have for a wife.

"No matter what people say, men are idealistic. Each of them can
imagine the girl whom he considers the complete woman for his
particular way of living.

"As a guide for the single woman who would like to play that role in a
man’s life, here are 11 attributes which–with some variations to suit
the individual taste–most men want their wives to posses."

1957_0827_constance_quiz1. Don’t compare him to your ex-bicycle (and
I’m paraphrasing here) at least not in any good way. The happy fish who
wants to keep her bike lets her husband "know that no other love in her
life has equaled or surpassed his love. She tells him that he is
superlative as a lover." 

2. Feed his ego. Let your bicycle know that he is "strong, wonderful, handsome and smart." Final tip: "He eats up praise."

3. Be a cheap date. Don’t go to
the most exclusive nightclub or restaurant in town and order the most
expensive thing on the menu–unless your bicycle offers.  "When I was
dating the wonderful man I later married, I insisted that we bypass the
lavish night spots…. He practically popped with gratitude," Constance
says.

4. Maintain your looks and health, and for goodness’ sake don’t whine.
Constance’s advice: "Many women endanger their wellbeing with too
little sleep, too much drink and tobacco, plus a frenzied attempt to
keep up too many activities and probably a weakening diet thrown in."

She offers a case study in failure: "They dated for three years, then
he married another girl. Why? He got tired of hearing Betsy complain of
her nervous headaches and her worn-out feet and aching side. Her
constant complaining cast a shadow over his enthusiasm."

5. Be sure you are compatible before it’s too late.
To offer a modern example, if you don’t care about sports, you may not
understand why your bicycle finds fantasy leagues, old baseball cards
and vintage memorabilia endlessly fascinating. "And if you marry him,
determine to go along with his preferences, with enthusiasm and
perseverance." A brief honeymoon isn’t enough.

6. Don’t nag. "Nagging seldom
improves a man (We need improving? I detect a troubling subtext here).
It only tends to irritate and set him in the opposite direction.

"I have seen innumerable romances crumble before a woman’s destructive
tongue. If the truth were known, it is likely that a good percentage of
the great number of men who are missing each year leave home to escape
a nagging wife.

"Yes, you are entitled to express your opinions. But once you voice
them and discuss the matter, don’t go back and rehash the issue."

7. Be nice–and don’t get jealous. Maybe
your bicycle has a few little faults–like always being late for your
dates, bringing one of his buddies home for dinner or giving his mother
some money in an emergency (my, how have times changed).  Let them
slide.  "It is far better to give too much understanding than too
little. And control that natural little streak of jealousy."

8. Don’t be possessive.  Do you
ask prying questions about where your bicycle has been and what he’s
done? Do you check up on him? Are you jealous if he pays attention to
anyone else? Do you hate it when he spends too much time at the office?
Well, stop it, Constance says.

9. Don’t fool around–and practice your faith.
A bicycle doesn’t want his beloved riding any other bikes. "A man
yearns for a woman whose moral standards are beyond question,"
Constance writes. "As for spiritual strength in a woman, most men are
not consciously seeking it and actually do not hope to find it. But
when they do, it is a bonus for the relationship."

10. Look good. Work with what nature gave you to be "as lovely and charming as possible."

11. Cook and clean. Tough words from Constance: "To marry and foist upon a man a life of indigestible meals and an unkept house is a fraud."

I could make many observations, but will offer only one: Nowhere, so
far, has Constance even alluded to the man’s role in any of this. The
assumption appears to be that the burden for a successful marriage lies
entirely on the woman. I would love to know what Mr. Constance is like
in all of this.

And in case there is any doubt, let me add: As with the horoscopes, this is for entertainment purposes only.

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