Newspaper wars

June 19, 1957
Los Angeles

These numbers tell a story, but what is the story? According to the
graphs, circulation for Hearst’s daily and Sunday Examiner began
falling after World War II. The Times, according to these statistics,
passed the Examiner in daily circulation in early 1948 and in Sunday
circulation in early 1951. Note that the Mirror was always second to
the Herald-Express, the leading afternoon paper in Los Angeles.

With luck, maybe I’ll be able to turn up some answers….

Bonus factoid: In 1962, the Mirror ceased publication and the morning Examiner merged with the afternoon Herald-Express to form the Herald Examiner, which folded in 1989.

1957_0619_circ

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William Parker, Part 3

June 19, 1957
Los Angeles

This will be fascinating reading to anyone interested in the LAPD in the 1930s and ’40s, but never forget that it is told from the viewpoint of one man: William H. Parker. I wish I had time to pick apart his statements, because he refers to many incidents that are worth pursuing. With luck, I’ll have time to track them down as this blog unfolds. In the meantime, here’s Chief Parker.

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Part 1

1957_0619_parkera

Part 2

1957_0619_parkerb

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Mulholland robbery

1957_0622_spivak

June 19, 1957
Los Angeles

Meet Louis Spivak, a hard-luck guy if there ever was one. The whole thing started and ended with him.

Spivak, the brother of musician Charlie Spivak, had been in the joint
at Folsom and transferred to San Luis Obispo in 1954. Once he got out, he came
to Los Angeles and worked as a salesman at Monarch Clothing, 326 S.
Broadway
. He was there seven months, but got fired because as an
ex-convict he couldn’t get bonded. He worked briefly at Produce
Dealer’s Clearing House.

Then he started writing bad checks. On
April 20, 1957, Spivak wrote a hot check for $397 to buy a 1951 Kaiser
sedan
from a Convair worker in San Diego, using a fictitious California
Bank account of the Market and Produce Office, 801 S. Central Ave. The
abandoned car was recovered May 10, 1957, in San Francisco and a
warrant was issued for Spivak’s arrest.

From there, Spivak
went to Las Vegas and wrote a few bad checks, then returned to Los
Angeles and wrote 10 or 12 more. Spivak said later that he drifted from
one downtown hotel to another and spent his days at the racetrack.

Sometime
in June, when he was living at the Bristol Hotel, 423 W. 8th St., Spivak ran into Richard M. McFall, below right, a drug addict whom he had known vaguely at Folsom. Spivak was
waiting on Broadway between 3rd and 4th streets to catch a shuttle to
Hollywood Park when McFall came by.

McFall, who was living at the Harvey Hotel, called the next day.
Spivak had paid his rent with another hot check, so he asked McFall send
a telegram to the hotel saying that a relative was sick and he needed
to leave immediately.

Using a pay phone in a bar at 5353
S. Crenshaw
Blvd. called the Alibi Room, McFall sent the telegram and drove over
in his 1951 Chrysler to help Spivak move his belongings to the Harvey.

Mug_mcfallThe men began
canvassing downtown stores where Spivak bought TV sets with fraudulent checks so McFall could sell them and get cash.

In a day or so, they met up with another ex-convict,
Howard "Blackie" Nichols. They continued
selling TV sets, but Spivak and McFall started arguing because
Spivak thought McFall was keeping some of the money to pay for his drug habit. Spivak also bought two tires for McFall’s Chrysler with another bad
check.

McFall said of his 20-year addiction: "The first pop I had was in the late ’30s. I have had a pretty fair habit. It’s hard to measure it from the standpoint of I have used such a variety of stuff. If heroin was available I used that. And used drugstore stuff, and naturally through Utah and Montana there is no contraband drugs for sale I could find. I went to doctors and the medicine you get there is a lot stronger in prescriptions."

One day, Spivak said something that gave McFall an idea.

Spivak
recalled: "We got to talking and cutting up old times as it were, from
various things we had been doing. I–‘What have you been doing? I
haven’t been doing much. Working at the clearing house’ and so forth,
and the bonding thing. ‘Were you living anyplace?’ I said no, ‘I’d like to
live out in Beverly Hills’ and things like that."

Mulholland_view

A view of Los Angeles from outside the front gate of 13671 Mulholland Drive
Photographs by Larry Harnisch Los Angeles Times

"And we got to
talking and he said: ‘My family used to have a house out in Beverly
Hills.’ And he described it. I said, ‘Gee, that’s nice.’ I said, ‘I
lived up in Beverly Hills once.’ I said, ‘I lived up on top of a
mountain, Mulholland Drive. Beautiful view. Swimming pool and so forth.
I lived at Lauritz Melchior’s place. Did you ever hear of it?’ He said, ‘Yes. The singer?’ I said, ‘That’s the fellow.’ I said, ‘I was his
house guest for a couple of weeks,’ and that was all."

Mug_burke
Down at the Alibi Room, McFall began talking to another friend from
prison, Wayne Burke, right, a man with a badly broken nose who specialized in home-invasion robberies.

Burke said he and McFall always went out to a car to talk: "He just
said that ‘I got a real good score, if you want to go, a house score’;
and they had a good tipster on it, and told me who it was, and said
there would be $50-$60,000 there, and $200,000 or $300,000 worth of
jewelry and furs. But I didn’t–I told him no, that I was not
interested."

 

In the meantime, McFall, Nichols and Spivak cased the home on Mulholland.

Melchior_gate

McFall said he was up there with Spivak "quite a few times, because he had the house misplaced. He thought it was on the opposite side of the road to what it really was. The first time we went up it was nighttime, and he knew that the place was called the Viking, I believe, and finally turning a corner we saw this driveway sitting back a little bit from the road. I headed the car in there, and when we saw the name Viking, he realized that was the house."

Over a few days, McFall pestered Burke about the robbery, but Burke
insisted that he wasn’t interested. "Why don’t you just go pull it with
Spivak and leave me out of it?" he asked. McFall replied that Spivak
couldn’t go because the Melchiors would recognize him.

Burke recalled: "He kept saying, ‘What are you going to do? Are you
going to go with me on this thing?’ And I said no, I didn’t care about
going. He said, ‘What are we going to do. Gee, we have to have some
money.’ I said, ‘I would rather be broke here on the streets than to have
money and walking that big yard. I am not going to be in a big hurry.’
But I said, ‘Don’t let that stop you; if you feel like going ahead you
are welcome.’ "

   And then one evening while it was still daylight, McFall took Burke up to Mulholland in his Chrysler.

Mug_395673
"You
can’t see it," Burke said. "There is so many trees around there. I can
describe the gate and you drive in about a half-block, and you go in–I
don’t know whether it is the front or back. The swimming pool is on the
other side of the house; that could be the front also.

"We just
turned around, and come on back, and on the way back he [McFall] kept
saying, ‘What are you going to do? Let us get it working if we are going
to do it.’ That’s when I told him, ‘Why don’t you take Spivak and do it.
He knows the layout, and everything like that.’ So then he says, ‘Why
don’t you meet me tomorrow night and think it over?’ and I says, ‘Why
don’t I just introduce you to somebody and let them go with you?’ He
said, ‘I want to go with you, but if you want to put a third man in it
that’s all right with me. It’s better to have a third man than nothing’;
so that’s where J. came into the picture."

Burke picked up an Alibi Room customer, Alfred J. Pope, a.k.a. J, above, for extra muscle on the robbery.

"He didn’t take me into his confidence very much," Pope
said of Burke. "And one night he told me he had a deal coming up–a couple,
three days before it happened–and so he wanted me to meet him at 6
o’clock Tuesday night."

Burke told Pope about McFall: " ‘That’s the only thing I don’t like about it. The guy is a dope fiend, and that’s the only thing that halts me, but if you want to go on it with him, I will introduce you to the guy.’ He said, ‘Well I wouldn’t want to do that because I have never been on one of those kind of things, but he said, ‘I will go if you go.’ So then we made a meet for 8:30 and we took two cars.’ "

It was Pope’s job to bring
the guns: A Colt .45 semiautomatic, serial No. 373177, and .38
with the serial number filed off. Pope also got some women’s stockings to use as
masks and a canvas rain hat. Burke, in turn, brought the gloves.

Mug_nichols

At 8 p.m. on June 18, 1957, Burke and Pope met outside the
Alibi Room and talked in Pope’s gray 1953 Mercury, then drove around
the corner and found McFall parked down the street in his Chrysler.
On the drive, they agreed that they would call each other "Joe."

"We
stopped at a hamburger store," Pope said. "I don’t know where it was;
it was quite a ways out. We talked, you know, about everything, just
talking, nothing in particular; and we decided we’d meet on top of the
hill, and we did. And we drove back down the hill. And McFall, he
parked his car and we got in mine."

Each man "cut about 8 inches off the top of a woman’s silk stocking,
tied a knot in it and pulled it down over your face," Burke said. They
all wore driving gloves.

Burke told Pope
where to drive along Mulholland and had him stop at 13671 Mulholland Drive so he and McFall could
get out. "They told me to give them 15 minutes and the gate would be
open," Pope said. He looked at his watch. It was 10:16 p.m.
Pope said he waited exactly 37 minutes before the gates opened.


The plan was for Burke and McFall to get into the
house and push the electric button controlling the gates so Pope could drive in.

House_driveway
Burke said: "J. left us off right by the gate, and he was just agoing up to wait until the gate opens, and he was going to come in, so Murph [McFall] and myself clumb the fence and walked up the driveway, tried the door. It was locked, and we could see the people sitting inside. So then we went to the maid’s door and it was open. So we went in, and we got the maid up, or the nurse or whatever she was. And took her up, and she knocked on the door, and that way they opened up the door when they seen it was her. So we went right in then."

McFall said: "Burke and I climbed over the fence and walked up the road by the side of the road to the house itself. And we knew from the map and the house plan that Spivak had drawn for us where one of the servant’s rooms was. We didn’t know whether it was a gardener or maid or whoever it was in there. We went in there first, and she was lying in the bed. And we asked her did she have a key to the house or if there was an entry into the house proper itself from her room. She said there wasn’t.

"So I stayed in the room with the maid while Burke scouted around to see if he could find an entrance into the house. Evidently there was not because he came back in about five minutes and told the maid to put her robe on. And he walked her up to the front door and rang the bell and I stood down below the steps. In fact, I remember I thought he told me to go around, and when I started that way he called me back up and the maid  rang the bell or knocked on the door.

"Anyway, they opened the door for the maid, and when they did, Burke told whoever it was to stand still, and called me and I ran up the stairs."

1957_0618_melchior_wife02

Burke said: "We went in, told them to sit down, and nobody would be hurt; that it was a robbery. They were very nice, and there was no quibbling about anything. Everything was just right. So we were there about–it seemed to me like a couple hours, but probably only about 40 minutes, I guess; so then we tied them."

Pope said: "I drove on in
and seen Wayne and this Melchior, the singer, walking out to this
here–out in front of the car. I don’t know where they was going," Pope
said.

Burke motioned to Pope to cut the headlights on the car. He
turned off the lights and the motor and went into the house. Everybody
was lying down. McFall told Pope to stick his finger in his pocket as
if he had a gun. "He said, ‘You keep these people lying down,’ so I
stuck my finger in my pocket."

One woman asked Pope why he
didn’t go straight. "I told her I was 42 or something like that and it
was a little late then–I was pretty high," he said.

And here the accounts get murky, with the victims’ statements to police contradicting the robbers’ accounts.

Witness 1 [Willa Huber, the maid] states she had laid down in her bed, in maids quarters and had just dozed off at approx. 10:30 p.m. when Suspects 1 [Burke] and 2 [McFall] came thru maids door and No. 2 held a gun on her in his right hand. No. 1 said, "This is a holdup." Witness 1 said, "How did you fellows get in here?" Suspect 1 said, "We came in when your guests left." Referring to Mr. and Mrs. Tom Knudsen and Mr. and Mrs. Marion Zobel, who had visited the Melchiors for the evening.

Suspect 1 asked for key to get into house. Witness 1 said, "I don’t have a key." Suspect 1 then left and a short time later came back and told Witness 1, "You are going to have to help us get in."

Witness 1 got dressed and accompanied Suspects 1 and 2 out of her quarters and up front stairs to front door of the Melchior residence and Suspect 1 told her to ring the bell.

1957_0619_hed 

When Witness 2 [Charles Luescher] opened front door, Witness 1 was pushed in and Suspect 1 said: "This is a holdup." Suspect 1 forced Mrs. Melchior to lie on one couch and Witness 1 to lay on another couch. Mr. Melchior was sitting in a chair across the room watching TV. Suspect 1 came over to Victim 1 [Lauritz Melchior] and said, "Put your head down on the table."

Victim 1 said, "I can’t I’m an old man."

Suspect 1 put a paper over his head. After a few moments Suspect 1 said, "Where is your safe?" Victim 1 said, "It’s in the basement." Suspect 1 said, "Come on and open it for me." Suspect 1 accompanied Victim 1 to the basement where they had Safe No. 1. After opening Safe No. 1 and taking out two fur coats and a sable and leopard skin coat. Victim 1 said, "I have another safe upstairs" and Victim 1 led Suspect 1 to a wall safe on the main floor in the den. This safe contained only foreign money in small denominations.

Prior to Suspect 1 taking Victim 1 to basement he forced Victim 2 [Melchior’s wife, Maria] to push button by front door to release front gate for suspect’s car, probably driven by Suspect 4 [Pope]. As Victim 1 was being taken out front door to go to basement he saw suspect’s car being driven up to front of house. Suspect 1 had taken off victim’s glasses in the house so he could not read the license plate, but he thought that the plate was an out of state plate and was white. The car was dark either blue or green or black.

1957_0619_melchior_jewelsAfter Victim 1 had taken Suspect 1 to Safe No. 2 and suspect was dissatisfied as to what was in this safe he took Victim 1 into study where he asked for money. Victim told him he had none except some checks he was mailing out. Suspect 1 brought victim back to living room and forced him to sit in chair again.

Suspect 1 then made Victim 2 get up from couch and said, "Come on, take me to it." Victim 2 led Suspect 1 into bathroom where she handed jewelry from two different drawers and handed them to Suspect 1. Suspect 1 held gun in right hand and put jewels into left coat pocket. He filled pocket then took a dark blue sock from another drawer and put more jewels into the sock.

He then took Victim 2 back to the living room and made her lay down on couch face-down.

Suspects had conference in the living room and one of them said, "Let’s go, I think we’ve got it all." Suspect 1 said, "No this is not all, there is still some big stuff." He then said to Victim 2,  "Come on." Victim 2 led him into study where she opened the third safe and handed out jewelry from bottom of safe. While she was handing out jewelry Suspect 2 peeked over her head and took fur coats from rack over her head.

He then brought Victim 2 back into living room and Suspect 4 brought silk stockings and ties from bedroom. Suspect 1 said to Victim 2, "You have a pistol where is it? Victim 2 led him into the master bedroom to the nightstand next to bed where Suspect 1 took revolver [actually a Browning 7.65 millimeter semiautomatic] and ammo from stand.

He then brought Victim 2 back into the living room where they started to tie victims and witnesses up. Victim 1 faked a heart attack and asked for water. Suspect 1 told Suspect 4 to get him water from kitchen. Glass was checked for poss. prints. Victim 1 continued to fake heart attack and was tied loosely by Suspect 4. Suspects then left through front door.

Victim 1 got up and hobbled into bedroom and cut his bonds with a pair of scissors. Suspects did not approach Witness 3 [Maria Melchior’s mother] who was sitting in wheelchair by pool.

Pope said: "Either Wayne or Murph [McFall], I’m not sure which one; it was said, ‘Tell the other party to come up and pick us up.’ There wasn’t another party. [Burke said it] so they would think someone else’s there and I would go on down. When the car drove up they would think somebody else was waiting and the wouldn’t run out there."

The men went back to McFall’s car, parked at Beverly Glen and Sunset Boulevard. Everything had gone according to their plan–almost.

During the robbery, Burke’s stocking mask tore, exposing his badly broken nose.

To be continued…

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Paul V. Coates–Confidential File

Paul_coates
June 18, 1957
Los Angeles

By oath and by tradition, policemen and probation officers are on the same side of the law.

Yet I know of no two groups so closely associated and so united in cause which are so diverse in opinion and belief.

After many years of association with both, I’m still awaiting the day
when I can find a policeman with complete respect for a probation
officer.

Or a probation officer with complete respect for a cop.

So far, I haven’t even come close.

And I have my own rather obvious suspicions as to why:

A cop is interested in the crime as such, and its solution. No more.

A probation officer’s interest lies in the man who committed the crime. And why.

There’s a difference. It’s a big difference, but an understandable one–one which should detract no stature from either.

Today I received a very interesting letter–from a probation officer.

His views on the subject of crime and punishment possibly won’t be
digested too well by the men whose job it is to enforce the law.

But many of his views, I think, are worth more than a casual glance.

1957_0618_ad
"Neither I nor my co-workers are sob sisters or do-gooders," he writes.
"Some criminals are a menace to the health and safety of the community
and must be imprisoned. Some should undoubtedly never again be released.

"The ironic fact, however, is this:

"The more that prisons become overcrowded with people who should never
be sent there, the more dangerous criminals will be let out–when they
never should be.

"Even prison officials and parole boards have to be realistic. A certain number must be let out to let new ones in."

Who’s to blame? The writer points a finger at himself.

Or is it pointing at us?

"Instead of professionally suggested caseloads of 50 to 75 persons per probation officer, we now have caseloads of 200 or more.

"Instead of three or four felony investigations per week–to allow a
thorough job–we investigate and dictate reports on twice that number.

"And the results are truly disastrous.

"Not so much because the probation officer often works
himself–physically and emotionally and literally–to death, but
primarily because millions of human beings are needlessly and
shamefully sent to prison.

"Too often they are sent only to learn how to become an adept criminal."

The officer points out that by law–with very few exceptions–convicted
felons cannot be sentenced until a probation officer makes a complete
investigation of his case and submits a written report and
recommendation to the court.

"We are supposed to investigate and evaluate a convicted person’s entire life history before sentencing is pronounced.

"We are supposed to recommend to the judge for or against probation,
depending largely on whether we believe the person to be a menace to
the community.

"There are not–nor will there be in the foreseeable future–enough
probation and parole officers anywhere in the United States to do an
adequate job.

"I am really upset by the penny-wise and dollar-foolish, self-righteous
public officials who claim to represent the best interests of the
narrow-minded, uninformed public.

"It costs between $2,000-$3,000 a year to maintain a man or woman in
prison. To supervise a man on probation it costs about one-tenth that
amount.

"There are thousands of persons who should never have been sent to prison.

"And thousands more who should be released.

"It would mean less expense and probably less risk to the public.

"Because, as outstanding as our California prisons are, the chances
also are that if a guy didn’t belong there the first time, he will
really belong there the next time."

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They said it

"Los Angeles is much worse than the average American city because it is so widely spread out. There is more of it to be ugly.

"But Los Angeles is still an open city–open to ideas. And it is
something in the realm of ideas that is being presented in this exhibit
[of his architectural drawings and models at Barnsdall Park]. I am sure you will be a beautiful
city in the future for you won’t be content to remain juvenile and ugly
all your lives."

Frank Lloyd Wright, 1954.

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William Parker, Part 2

June 18, 1957
Los Angeles

Part 2 of Paul Weeks’ series on William H. Parker.

Page 1

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Page 2

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Daniel Webster’s speech is here (search for Captain Joseph White).

The Bible passage is a little more problematic. It echoes Psalms 26:10.

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10 Fwy

And you know what? It wasn’t even on Page 1.

June 17, 1957
Los Angeles

Part 1

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Part 2

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Matt Weinstock

Matt_weinstockd_2
June 17, 1957

Sometimes it is very difficult to know whom to believe. Take the case of a young sailor named Mike.

Mike, 19, on leave from his base in San Diego, went to a wedding and
reception a few nights ago. There a friend asked him to take a girl
home in his (the friend’s) car.

As they reached her home around 1 a.m., a blue Chevy drew up, two young men in civilian clothes got out and questioned him.

Mike asked who they were and they said they were police officers.
Fearing they might be hoodlums, he asked to see their identification.
They were reluctant to show them and Mike refused to get out of the car.

Finally, he did. Not knowing what to expect, he told the girl to go into the house. She did.

1957_0617_ad01
At this point, another car pulled up and two uniformed officers came
over. One of them kneed Mike against a fence and choked him.

His neck bleeding profusely from the officer’s fingernails and his
shirt torn, Mike was taken to a receiving hospital. An officer warned,
"If the doctor asks what happened tell him you fell down."

After treatment, Mike was taken to City Jail and booked on a charge of
drunk driving. Insisting he was not drunk, he asked for a sobriety
test. The officer said he didn’t have to give him anything. This was
around 3 a.m.

Mike asked that his father be phoned but the call was not made. It was
not until around 7 p.m. about 16 hours later that his father learned
from a bail bondsman where he was. He put up $125 bail and got him out.

That’s the way Mike says it happened.

The officers’ arrest report tells a completely different story. It
states that they chased Mike’s car and he ran signals, drove recklessly
and ignored warnings.

When they finally ran him down he was drunk, abusive, belligerent,
refused a sobriety test and resisted arrest. There was no mention of
the two uniformed officers, one of whom had done the choking.

Mike’s father, incensed at what he considered a serious injustice,
decided to hire an attorney, enter a plea of not guilty and demand a
jury trial.

When Mike’s commanding officer in San Diego learned of his intent he
instructed him to have the boy plead guilty rather than risk any delay.
Mike has orders to go overseas in a few weeks and these, he said, could
not be changed.

Mike was run through the traffic court assembly line and had no
opportunity to tell what might be considered extenuating circumstances
in his case. When the judge asked, "Guilty or not guilty," he said
"Guilty" and paid a $100 fine.

And so a young man who had never been in any trouble has a blot on his
record and a low opinion of a least some police officers in the city
where he was born, reared and educated.

As in "Dragnet," the names have been deleted to protect the innocent.

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Reds freed!

Note the suicide of Stanford scientist William K. Sherwood.

Part 1
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Part 2
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Part 3
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William Parker, Part 1

 

1957_0617_parker_pix

June 17, 1957
Los Angeles

I’m extremely pleased to be able to present Paul Weeks’ series on Los
Angeles Police Chief William H. Parker.  Weeks did a first-rate job
with a subject who wasn’t especially cooperative. Although Parker
realized the value of the press, he was wary of how he was portrayed
and far more guarded than his predecessors. (He was equally sensitive
about how the department was portrayed in "Dragnet," and according to
former officers, kept Jack Webb on a tight rein).

Be sure to read to the end of this story and learn about the maneuver that was apparently used
to keep police files exempt from subpoenas. Recall that Parker was an
attorney.

Page 1

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Page 2

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Page 3   

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Literary diversions

Erle Stanley Gardner, Feb. 2, 1958
1958_0202_erle_gardner

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Weird wheels

 

1957_0617_dkw_2

1957_0616_smogJune 16, 1957
Los Angeles

Hi, my name is Larry, and I owned a DKW.

Hi Larry!

Seriously. Induced by a crazy college friend, I bought one of these
things in the early 1970s for about $30 and it was the strangest car I
ever owned. The DKW had a three-cylinder, two-cycle engine, so you
mixed oil in the gasoline–just like a leaf blower, and about as powerful. It was a real smog machine. The joke, of
course, is that I bought it from a guy who had three of them.

No, I never got it running, much to the relief of Tucson’s motorists,
who are about the worst drivers in the nation. I finally sold it to a
neighbor who owned a gas station. He wanted to park it at his business
to make it look like he actually had some customers.

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A name to remember

June 15, 1957

1957_0615_king

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Matt Weinstock

Matt_weinstockd
June 15, 1957

It can now be revealed that a dark plot against the Stanfords by the
Uclans–an offshoot of the feuding between the two universities as a
result of PCC [Pacific Coast Conference] penalties–has been
inadvertently thwarted.

Not long ago, Bob Kennedy, a Stanford alumnus in the floor covering
business in Westwood, was commissioned to supply carpeting for the
Stanford office at 621 S. Hope St., where the university’s president, trustees and fundraisers meet.

A number of samples were shown, but for price and quality a beautiful job which could be dyed any color was outstanding.

However, the conservative Indians [Note: Stanford’s former mascot, abandoned in the 1970s–lrh] decided it was too lush and selected a slightly cheaper pattern, thereby innocently averting future embarrassment.

It seems that Kennedy’s business partners are UCLA grads and they’d
planned to treat the white rug in the dyeing process so that in about
six months the letters UCLA would appear right in the middle.

ONLY IN PURE L.A. — A cabby told it to reporter Frank Laro:

Two men got into his cab and asked if he could take them to a place
where there were some women. (By the way, this is a frequent request
and one fraught with peril).

The cabby cagily drove them to Hollywood Cemetery, handed them the fat taxi tab and said:

"There they are, boys, dig ’em up."

He’d recognized them as vice squad officers.

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Zombie Plymouth!

Tulsa, Okla., unearths the buried 1957 Plymouth.

1957_plymouth

Photo by KOTV.com

Watch KOTV’s video here
.

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Policewomen graduate

 

1957_0615_policewomen

June 15, 1957
Los Angeles

Chief William H. Parker welcomed 12 new policewomen in commencement
exercises at the Police Academy. The Times reports that most of the new
officers will be assigned to the juvenile detail or work as jail
matrons.

The women will carry .38-caliber snub-nosed revolvers.

Starting pay for policewomen is $440 to $516  ($3,152,72-$3,697.29 USD
2006) a month, The Times says, adding that the department is seeking
more officers.

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Pot pad raided

1957_0615_pot_pad

1957_0615_tunnel
June 15, 1957
Los Angeles

Deputies arrested 13 people after finding them hiding in tunnels dug beneath at house at 12117 Jersey Ave., Norwalk, apparently intended as a bomb shelter.

Investigators found 22 marijuana cigarettes in the house and 22 more on
the suspects, police said, adding that the home was used for dealing
drugs.

The house had been rented two weeks earlier by Gary Smith, 18, Jerrold
R. Rose, 18,  and their wives, and Conrad E. Castro, 21, the newspapers
said.

Six months later, one of the suspects, Joseph L. Pickle, 19, was in the
news in a bizarre incident in Tijuana. On Christmas Day, the body of
Gilbert Byron Sharp, 21, was found on the Tecate Highway near the local
jail. Pickle said Sharp was electrocuted after climbing a utility pole
in a plan to cut electricity to the jail and free a drug suspect.

According to The Times, Sharp and another man were arrested on drug
charges in Tijuana in September. Sharp was freed but his companion was
still in custody.

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Future shock

 

1957_0614_mono

1907_0127b
June 14, 1957
Los Angeles

Sometimes predictions for the future are simply painful to read. The
people living in 1957 were prolific in sketching out hopeful plans. Some of them
were foolish (I think we can safely eliminate the atomic-powered
monorails) but others sound terribly familiar: Like one-way streets and
restricted bus lanes on the freeways.

All I can say is this: We have been ignoring our transportation problems for a century. (Above, a downtown traffic jam in 1907).
 

Proposals from 1957:

  • Make Figueroa and Flower one-way streets from downtown to the Coliseum.   
  • Make Olive and Hill one-way streets between 1st Street and 23rd Street.
  • 200-mph monorails that run from the San Fernando Valley to Long Beach.
  • Light-rail routes from San Bernardino and Santa Ana to downtown.   
  • An elevated train in downtown Los Angeles.   
  • Subways.

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Name the Dodgers!

What should we call our new team? Hey I know!
1957_0614_dodgers

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Prowler terrorizes L.A.

 

1957_0614_prowler

1957_0614_prowler_pix_2
June 14, 1957
Los Angeles

As Marjorie Hipperson was laid to rest, raw terror swept over
Los Angeles and reports of attacks rained down on the police. Women
fought off intruders and in senseless, unreasoning fright, men fired shots at
the shadows at their doorsteps, killing a neighbor’s dog and wounding
an unfortunate stranger.

A police artist drew a sketch based on a
victim’s description of the attacker and the newspapers ran advice to
women on being safe.  Suspects were photographed in handcuffs, cleared
and released.

Esther Esparza, 30, 1633 Lucille Ave.,
frightened off an intruder who pushed her to the floor after she came
inside from burning papers in the backyard. In a few minutes, the phone
calls began: "I’m going to come back and this time I’ll kill you," a
man said. She described him as 30 years old, 5-feet-10, 190 pounds,
with blond hair, blue eyes and a pimply face.

Gail Donavin, 21, who shared an upstairs apartment at 3966 Clinton St.,
said she slept with a sorority paddle because she was so frightened,
but when she found a man sitting on her bed at 4 a.m. she was afraid to
use it. "Don’t move or say anything or I’ll kill you!" he said,
according to The Times. "I was afraid I would really be in trouble if I
hit him and didn’t knock him out," she said of the paddle.

1957_0614_prowler_map

Margie M. Purdue, 32, 327 New Hampshire Ave.,
also reported awakening to find a man sitting on the edge of her bed
and told police that he fled when she screamed. Officers J.L. Conrad
and R.D. Brodbeck arrested Harold E. Bond, 23, at New Hampshire and Oakwood and although Purdue was unable to identify him, she said his clothing matched the intruder’s.

Bonnie Rambo, 28, 529 N. Berendo,
said a man burst in by breaking the chain on her door and began forcing her to the
floor, but he fled when she struggled toward the telephone.

Wanda
Wilson, 20, of Wilmington reported fighting off a man who was only
wearing a T-shirt by choking him with his rosary beads.

Edith Clouse, 26, 2516 Kent St.,
said she was coming home at 4 a.m. from her job at an aircraft plant
when a man ran from the shadows and grabbed her by the shoulders.

Margaret Cruikshank, 41, 3510 1/2 Bellevue Ave.,
reported that after she returned from a date with Jim Rhode, 27, she
heard a noise in the living room and found a blond, pimply faced young
man crawling through a window. Rhode tried to capture the intruder, but
he escaped, The Times said.

The arrests followed quickly.

Mario J. Sanchez, 1244 S. Lake St., was arrested on charges of making lewd phone calls after his victim, Judy Jackson 25, 639 N. Parkman Ave., made a date with him.

1957_0614_drawingTommy
Sciandra, 34, a man with a criminal record in New York, Chicago and Los
Angeles, was arrested in a Sunset Boulevard cafe after employees told
police that he was talking about the recent attacks. Blaming most of
the troubles in his life on women, he said: "They’ll lie about you
every time."

Darrell W. Morgan, 19, was arrested then released after proving that he
was at a Navy recruiting station when Esparza was attacked. Esparza
identified him in a lineup, then fainted. When she recovered, she said
she was mistaken.

John James Johnson, 22,  1926 Vista Del Mar, was arrested on charges of peeping in the window of Ann Collins, 1931 N. Argyle Ave.

At 12931 Calvert St.,
Van Nuys, Eli Sterling heard a suspicious noise and went to
investigate. Seeing something in the shadows, he fired his .38
revolver, killing his neighbor’s wire-haired terrier with one shot.

Michael L. Bergen, 40, was shot in the arm while checking on the home he had bought at 17018 Los Alimos St., Granada
Hills. According to police, Robert Hobday, 65, had been leasing the
home and had been unable to move out. When Bergen knocked, Hobday fired
four shots through the door with a .38.

Former USC football player Donald F. Bahrman, 26, was shot to death by William Pottorff, 1217 W. 187th St.,
an off-duty traffic officer. Pottorff’s wife, Yvonne, came home from
her job at a Gardena club and told her husband she’d been followed. In
a few minutes, they heard someone cutting the screen on a bedroom
window.

The man fled when Pottorff went outside to investigate. Pottorff
shouted and fired two warning shots into the air, then aimed for the
intruder.  He found Bahrman , a former all-city football star, dying
behind a nearby house.

To be continued….

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