Judge Wins Black Eye in Pasadena’s First Dog Show

June 7, 1907
Pasadena

After a hard day of judging Boston terriers, English bulldogs and foxhounds, John Bradshaw went to a local restaurant with two exhibitors, William J. Morris and James Ewins.

Over dinner, and apparently many drinks, Bradshaw told Ewins at great length what was wrong with his prize bulldog, Moston Barnone. Although Ewins had owned several great bulldogs, including one named Moston Monarch, he took Bradshaw’s remarks in stride.

After they left the restaurant, however, Bradshaw continued his lengthy critique, telling Morris exactly what was wrong with his setters. Morris defended his prize pets and the men began arguing.

“Bradshaw became indiscreet enough to let drive a hard right swing at Morris,” The Times said. “The latter ducked cleverly and encountered with a terrific right to the eye, which in the parlance of the pugs, immediately erected a substantial ‘roof’ over the optic.”

Ewins helped Bradshaw to his hotel, where they tried to reduce the swelling so that Bradshaw could see well enough to judge that night’s competition. However, he failed to return by 10 p.m. and the event was postponed until the next day.

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Shout Out

General Motors (198.208.251.24) Windows 2000? Upgrade!

The Netherlands (212.127.246.72)

E! Entertainment (12.46.6.69) “E! Mysteries and Scandals,” my first TV interview, by the guy who did “Real Chases of the Highway Patrol.”

Department of Veterans Affairs (152.130.6.194)

My pal in Kerkira, Greece (213.80.115.71)

Simpson Thacher and Bartlett llp (64.167.72.50)

And no, I still haven’t heard from Donald H. Wolfe about his bogus document. Something tells me I’m not going to.

Here’s a factoid for you: Olga Rutterschmidt, who is being held on suspicion of an insurance fraud scheme involving the deaths of two homeless men, lives at 1776 N. Sycamore in Hollywood, the site of Bobby Fuller’s mysterious death in 1966. A building with seriously bad mojo!

Hurry back!

Lmharnisch.com

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A Horse Avenged


June 6, 1907
San Bernardino

The miners of the Silver Lake camp out in San Bernardino didn’t take the tenderfoot too seriously. His name was Fred Myton and he presented himself as the son of a wealthy Salt Lake City family, come fully outfitted to strike it rich in the gold fields.

One of the miners’ amusements in the remote desert was Bobbie, a horse owned by contractor Sidney Barber but belonging to almost everyone in the camp as he was treated like a pet. Allowed to roam untethered, Bobbie would forage from one miner to the next looking for some kind words, maybe a pat or two and whatever the men could spare from their meals.

“One day when Myton was absent, skirmishing for a bonanza, Bobbie dropped around for 5 o’clock tea. But there was no host to welcome him in the style he had been used to, and after knocking around the tent for a time, Bobbie stuck his head inside and investigated. There, right in plain sight, evidently for his special benefit, was a plate of baked beans with tomato sauce,” The Times said.

“Bobbie lost no time in getting inside of the tent and outside of the beans and during these two interesting operations [he] stepped in the frying pan and knocked over a few articles of furniture which he was not in the habit of seeing in the desert. In fact, by the time Bobbie had turned around and made his way out again, the tent looked as if a Texas zephyr had got loose in the kitchen.”

Myton was furious and the miners got a good laugh out of the tenderfoot’s predicament. Later that day, Myton caught Bobbie with a rope, led the horse out in the desert and shot him in the head with his brand-new Winchester.

Men have been lynched for less than this and The Times pointedly remarked that the fact the miners didn’t string Myton up reflected a new civility in the desert.

Instead, Barber came to Los Angeles and filed a legal claim against Myton seeking $300 for Bobbie, $400 damages for loss of time to his freighting business and $5,000 in punitive damages, a total of $116,984.35 USD 2005.

“Thus does the law avenge Bobbie, once the pet of Silver Lake,” The Times said.

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Down She Goes

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A Tough Case


June 4, 1907
Los Angeles

After months of inquiries that involved undercover investigators posing as patients, the State Board of Medical Examiners has taken action against Chinese herbalists in Los Angeles. In addition to arresting the doctors in question, authorities charged everyone involved as investors in the companies, issuing warrants for some of the most prominent members of the Chinese community.

“It is alleged that in one case a patient who was charged high prices for Chinese treatment received a bottle that contained simply the juice boiled from alfalfa,” The Times said. “It was contained in a fancy bottle that looked as if anything it held might be good for what was the matter with almost anybody. It was a fine piece of glass with Chinese hieroglyphics up and down the sides and there was an odor about the fluid different from … anything else sold in a pharmacy or doled out by the ordinary physician.”

Although it was sold as an exotic potion, a chemist who analyzed the liquid said it had never been “nearer to China than the corner of Sunset Boulevard and Alvarado Street.”

“Most of these places are beautifully furnished with Oriental draperies, teakwood furniture, Chinese porcelains and other fittings calculated to create an impression of culture and wealth,” The Times said.

In a subsequent story, the newspaper catalogued the treatments to which the investigators subjected themselves. Deputy Nicholas Harris received “vital sparks” from one herbalist, “tiger fat” from another and “nerve balls” from a third.

Still, Harris, who survived the experience, had praise for the dealers.

“These Chinese herb sellers are the most thorough gentlemen I have ever met,” he said. “I never met one in all my rounds who did not treat me in a kindly, courteous manner. This is so different from the crusade we conducted against the white fakers. With those fellows we had to be constantly on guard, but with the Chinese it is different. That is, with the exception of one case.

“At the Wong company on South Main Street, I met Drs. Chan and Young. Both treated me well. They behaved like princes and it is really hard to prosecute such people. We have not the slightest enmity against them. In fact, we find that it really hurts to prosecute them because they are such gentlemen, but we simply want to find out whether the state will permit them to practice their form of medicine without first security a license.”

One of the arrested men, Dr. Tom Leung, was described as a millionaire with offices at 9th Street and Olive who accompanied the emperor of China during a U.S. tour.

Leung died in 1931 at his home at 1619 W. Pico Blvd., at the age of 57. His obituary noted that he was in business for 30 years and was survived by wife; five sons, whom he named for U.S. presidents; and three daughters.

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Nooooo!

June 3, 1907
Los Angeles

It was to be one of the grandest society weddings of the season: An orchestra was hired, a caterer had been selected after lengthy interviews, gowns for the bride and bridesmaids had been sewn and the Hotel Lankershim had been hired for the occasion.

In preparation for the grand event, Dr. Harris C. Garcelon and his fiancee, Genevieve Smith, attended the wedding rehearsal at Christ Episcopal Church performed by the Rev. Baker P. Lee.

Lee said: “While the young people were talking with me, one of them asked if they could not get married right away. No, I will not say which suggested it first. I told them a license was really all that was necessary. I believe both dreaded the big formal affair and wished to avoid it. They were of sufficient age to decide for themselves. Members of my household acted as witnesses. Miss Smith’s engagement ring was used in the ceremony. I married them and Dr. and Mrs. Garcelon went away.”

Dr. Garcelon managed to spirit his wife’s luggage out of the Hotel Lankershim, under the watchful eyes of her parents, and off they fled for Salt Lake City, leaving Rev. Lee to break the news to her mother.

The Times said: “It is hinted that a function will be arranged at the hotel which Dr. and Mrs. Garcelon will be actually forced to attend.”

Dr. Garcelon died Aug. 2, 1935, in San Bernardino at the age of 65. At his request, his ashes were scattered over the Mojave Desert. The former police surgeon and assistant health officer was survived by his wife, Genevieve, who died in 1958 at the age of 81.

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A Theater Rises on Broadway


June 2, 1907
Los Angeles

The Hamburger Department Store announces plans for a theater just south of its new building on South Broadway at 8th Street, designed by the architecture firm of Edelman and Barnett.

According to plans, the horseshoe-shaped theater is to seat 1,600 people, with a balcony and a gallery. The stage is to be 40 feet by 80 feet, with a proscenium 36 feet wide and 32 feet high.

“The interior of the arch will be finished in ‘Art Nouveau’ as a suggestion of the beautiful effect given by the arch of the New Amsterdam Theater in New York City,” The Times said.

The facade of the eight-story building is to be pressed brick and terra cotta with inlaid colored glazed tile. The marquee of hammered copper is to measure 14 feet by 23 feet, extending from the building to the curb.

A June 14, 1908, Times story says the interior was designed by Antoon Molkenboer. The panel over the proscenium will portray 16 larger-than-life figures titled “The Cast of Characters.”

Ramon Novarro began as an usher at Hambuger’s Majestic (later the Majestic) and kept as mementos a pair of ticket stubs given to him by Charlie Chaplin. Edward Everett Horton, Lewis Stone and Franklin Pangborn also performed at the theater. In its final years, it was a burlesque house and figured in an obscenity case before it was torn down in 1933 to make way for parking.

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Hard Questions


June 1, 1907
Los Angeles

Voir dire, in which lawyers question prospective jurors, is a rough and tumble affair, especially when the case involves prostitution.

The matter at hand involves Tom Savage, boss of the 8th Ward, known as the “Bloody Eighth,” on charges of running a disorderly house, the Arlington Hotel, in the Tenderloin.

Savage’s unidentified defense attorney interrogated prospective panelists closely about their familiarity with bordellos and prostitutes. One man tucked his long, white beard into the waistband of his pants before entering the jury box and when asked about the Red Light district looked at the accused prostitutes in court and said: “Well, young feller, I ain’t much on sparkin’, but them there do sure seem to be likely gals.”

The first question asked of each prospective juror—what church they belonged to—caused The Times to remark: “From the number who answered in the negative there seems to be considerable missionary work yet to be done in Los Angeles.”

One man replied: “I ain’t been to no church for 10 years, but I ain’t missed a chance to vote the Democratic ticket for the past 30 and that oughter qualify me some.”

Several men were accompanied by their wives and became increasingly nervous during questioning about whether they had ever been to a house a prostitution.

“Once,” one man said nervously. “I was showing a friend about the city.”

“I’ll show you about the city when I get you home,” his wife exclaimed from the back of the courtroom.

The jury deadlocked and Savage’s case was dropped. The onetime newspaper pressman, who was elected to the council in 1894, died of a morphine overdose in his room at 111½ Commercial St., in what was then the 8th Ward. The man who once boasted “I’ve got all the votes you need right here in my vest pocket” was 47.

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Memorial Day

May 31, 1907
Los Angeles

In one Memorial Day observance, Col. James H. Davidson of Pasadena addresses the crowd at Memorial Hall.

He says, in part: “Another decade or two and taps will have sounded and lights will be out for the entire muster roll of Civil War veterans. Let us see who made possible the perpetuity of the Union, who fought its battles and upheld the flag, who filled the ranks, who rushed to the rescue, who died on sea and land that our great nation might survive.

“It was the men behind the guns, the private soldiers and sailors of the Civil War. Their valor, their heroism, their endurance, made possible those brilliant names of generals and admirals that blaze on the pages of our country’s history.”

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Hop Chung–In Trouble Again

May 30, 1907
Los Angeles

Hop Chung is in trouble again.

Chung, it seems, is no stranger to the legal system, with a police record going back to 1883. Ten years later, he and customer D.E. Dorsey were arrested at Chung’s laundry at 1st and San Pedro for fighting over a bill.

The next year, he was arrested on a charge of battery when he got into an argument with Mrs. D.W. Diaz, operator of a Spring Street rooming house, who refused to pay him because he lost some of her laundry. Also in 1894, he and Ah Sing were fined $1 for not hitching their horses as they plied the streets of Los Angeles.

But all of that was a mere prelude to the current problem. In 1907, Chung opened a new laundry on Thompson between West Adams and 23rd Street, much to neighbors’ dismay, for the council had designated the area a residential district, banning laundries, livery stables, undertaking parlors and coal yards.

Chung was arrested once more, but because he wasn’t a U.S. citizen, he took the case to federal court rather than the state, claiming that the city had no authority to create what we know as zoning. Chung’s lawyer maintained that as long as the laundry was sanitary, the city had no authority to force him out.

Taking the case under advisement because there were few legal precedents, the federal court ruled in June against Chung and in favor of the city.

Chung remained out of the news until 1932, when the health department refused to renew his license because he had a connecting hallway between his living quarters and laundry.

No obituary appeared on Chung and he isn’t listed in the California death records, so there’s no easy way to find out what became of him. As for the laundry, Thompson doesn’t appear on any of my historic maps and the Sanborn Maps website doesn’t recognize my firefox browser.

Here’s the link in case you want to check
.

Lmharnisch.com


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Shorthand

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This is the kind of a horse


May 27, 1907
Death Valley, Calif.

George Freeman and his wife of Pasadena, accompanied by Charles Fuller Gates of Los Angeles, were motoring out to Death Valley in a Pierce-Arrow along the old road carved by the twenty-mule teams from the borax mines when they approached a driverless wagon hitched to a skittish horse.

The auto party had taken the route from Johannesburg to Ballarat slowly, stopping to clear the road of large rocks in their path and pausing whenever they encountered a freight wagon to keep from frightening the horses and mules. Because there were only two watering holes on the road, the party had taken an ample supply of water for themselves and the car’s radiator, and they shared some with the teams that they passed.

Mrs. Freeman noticed a spot far ahead on the horizon and eventually realized it was a horse and wagon without its driver. Gates got out of the car and walked several hundred yards up the road to capture the horse. The party assumed that the animal hadn’t gone far in the heat because it wouldn’t drink much, although a dog following the wagon was nearly dead of thirst and drank two quarts of water.

Gates wanted to drive the wagon back down the road in search of the owner, while Mr. Freeman preferred sending the driverless horse on its way with a note attached to the harness advising whoever found it to care for it, which is what they did.

Five miles farther, the party came across a large bush placed across the road next to an old prospector lying behind a greasewood bush.

“Like a wild man, he staggered to his feet. He could not talk, neither could he stand erect, but seldom does a man show so much joy in his face as did that old man. He seemed to be afraid the automobile would rush on and leave him there,” The Times said.

“He staggered to the side of the car and fell over against it. His mouth was filled with the greasewood leaves that he had chewed up [in an attempt to get water] and he dug them out with his fingers….. The old man was motioning for water, making signs that were unmistakable.”

While Mr. Freeman wanted to leave a canteen with the old man and head on, Gates prevailed on him to lift the man into the car, turn around and overtake the horse and wagon they had passed earlier.

On their way back in the Pierce-Arrow, prospector Frank McCabe, 71, was finally able to speak. His first words were: “This is the kind of a horse.”

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Visions of Golden Eagles


Only a few months before, William R. Leroy of Pennsylvania was a struggling inventor, moonlighting as a stevedore in Santa Monica and in the Fullerton oilfields. Walking to work because even the lowly streetcar fare was a luxury, Leroy labored on his boyhood dream of a “hot air engine,” that once started, ran indefinitely on heated air and electricity that it generated for itself.

Leroy said he left his home in Pennsylvania for Los Angeles because of a mishap with a model of the hot air engine he was building his father’s shop. “One day he went away and I got to experimenting with the engine, using a beer keg for a compressor. The air in the compressor got damp and expanded a good deal more than I thought it would. The keg blew up and knocked the end out of father’s planing mill. Then I had to light out,” Leroy said.

Soon, Leroy’s fortunes changed with the appearance of a mysterious investor named T.E. Nealson or Nealon, who offered $30 million for the machine but specified that his whereabouts be kept a secret. The inventor began selling stock in the Leroy Air Power Manufacturing Co. with an initial offering of 3 cents a share, quickly boosted to 10 cents, mostly purchased by church groups and fraternal organizations.

Using company stock to pay his bills, Leroy furnished his bungalow at 324 N. 4th St in Santa Monica with a pianola, rugs and other items “in the style that usually accompanies a sudden accession of riches,” The Times said.

“This is how she works,” The Times said of the device: “In the first instance, the engine is started by manual labor. Compressed air is one of the ingredients and before the engine is started the pumps are worked until a pressure of 60 pounds is indicated. After that it will take care of itself. With this pressure the engine starts off. Its compressors tamp the air, which is heated by electricity that is generated by discs in motion. These give off arcs or sparks of unknown units of heat. The heat is utilized in expanding and exploding the globules of moisture absorbed by the compressed air as it makes its way through water.

“When the arcing occurs, then the three elements are in combustion as Leroy explains, just as the air cell in the grain of corn when it bursts or as the thunder following the lightning’s flash is but the coming together of the air which had been separated by the electricity in the air. While the invention makes no attempt at harnessing the thunderbolts of the sky, it operates on the same principle, gaining sufficient force from the expansion to operate the engine itself and burden it with considerable load.”

Despite Leroy’s insistence, The Times’ Chicago correspondent was unable to locate T.E. Nealson or the purported working model of the engine. Leroy went along throwing lavish parties for investors, explaining his complicated device (which he angrily insisted was not a perpetual motion machine) as well as the equally complicated financing of the project and his mysterious investor.

Leroy and his associates eventually ended up in court when a feud between two Santa Monica papers, the Journal and the Free Lance, generated a libel suit after the Free Lance accused the Journal of seeking “hush money” to not run further negative stories about the device.

In the end, the mysterious investor never arrived and weary stockholders sent Leroy back East to produce a working model of his machine, never to be heard from again.


* * *



The Times runs statistics on column inches of advertising (21 inches per column) for the third week of May:

The Times: 1,212
The Examiner: 716
The Express: 500
The Herald: 298
The Record: 276
The News: 174

Sunday circulation for The Times is 65,500.

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From the recording horn

May 25, 1907
Los Angeles

Sold on the installment plan, $1 a week with the purchase of six records at 60 cents each, the Victor Talking Machines offered performances by Caruso, Melba and Scotti, as well as John Philip Sousa’s and Arthur Pryor’s bands. Other recording artists included Schumann-Heink, Pol Plancon and Marcella Sembrich.

To sell the Victor machines, which ranged from $10 to $100 ($205.24 to $2,052.36 USD 2005), dealers in Los Angeles staged weekly concerts of new recordings. The George J. Birkel Co., 345 S. Spring St., which also sold Steinways and the Cecilian Piano Player, an external player piano device, said: “Music in the home is a necessity, not a luxury. Music has a refining influence which nothing else can give. The Victor Talking Machine brings every kind of music into your home—from Grand Opera to Ragtime.”

Later releases for 1907 included selections by the Victor Orchestra, augmented with musicians from the New York Philharmonic and the Met.
Nor did Victor neglect the demand for comic records, offering a selection of Cal Stewart’s “Uncle Josh” stories.

Although some discs sold for as little as 50 cents, some were as high as $5 ($102.62 USD 2005). Later in the year, dealers offered the $200 Victrola, in which the machine was enclosed in a cabinet with a hinged lid, eliminating the external horn.

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Speed demons


May 24, 1907
Los Angeles

Otis Skinner, the actor starring in “The Duel” at the Mason Opera House,” is under arrest because of a curious regulation in which passengers of a speeding car are charged with breaking the law. Col. Henry Wyatt of the Wyatt Lyceum Circuit was giving Skinner and his manager a scenic tour of Los Angeles when Wyatt’s chauffeur was stopped by motorcycle Officers Humphreys and Green on 7th Street east of Figueroa as they returned to the theater.

Wyatt, who was a deputy sheriff, complained to police authorities that Humphreys and Green refused to identify themselves as officers and wondered whether the whole affair was a joke as he didn’t believe he was speeding. Skinner, in fact, said he thought the new automobile was moving rather slowly.

“We were not violating the speed limit,” Wyatt said, “and I will certainly appear in court to make my statement of the case. We were coming along at a slow rate of speed in order that Mr. Skinner might see all the sights of the city when these two young men on motorcycles, who refused to show stars or any badge of authority, came up to use and told us to appear in court and before I pay any fine I want an explanation.”

* * *


The defense attorney for William J. McKinley on charges of attempted murder heaped doubt on the question of whether his elderly uncle William Reid had even been shot, so during a recess in the trial, doctors took an X-ray and removed the bullet, which had flattened against Reid’s skull.

“The results of the operation seem to settle that question beyond cavil,” The Times said.

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Trash

http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DsQAAAG7ggqAHSiJjpW0D3w4aYTVrik0CL55ddKAR0-3WlcTLWwC4r5DWmNorZ5K5NsTHKRB08qkvjEtkrYr8dQMkFzwLcqg-60PixyMHvHrMVPjv5KI57lIQi9CZyNBD-W3OwmZla8xAH4HQ8r5q2PMYux3N0paVNj6GoTiKc6b_d6prQX6XZeeqDdIfe7Au5Cne6TNxDUytxhYLi7UAxNhkYS3ymVlH6WZvzxw36c8hVRRB6-N0lwuNoitNpfFBhVyEMA%26sigh%3Dlw5B-mPIdzaR15EOBJ1c4Y3uaj8%26begin%3D0%26len%3D223789%26docid%3D7133378478837090179&thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer%3Fapp%3Dvss%26contentid%3De1fc21b974d594ba%26second%3D5%26itag%3Dw320%26urlcreated%3D1148306944%26sigh%3DLFDzmHa8d6DozSNvWka82jQnAjk&playerId=7133378478837090179

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Fleenor Talks

In a jailhouse interview before he was taken to San Quentin, James G. Fleenor, the barefoot burglar, set the record straight on his escapes, his relationship with a white woman and how he began a life of crime.

It had been rumored that Fleenor returned to Los Angeles after escaping from a San Francisco jail because of his relationship with Mrs. B.J. Byres of 1669 Tennessee St. He insisted that he hopped the first freight train leaving the yard and discovered later that it was going to Los Angeles.

Fleenor, who used a real estate business as a front for his burglaries, said that she was one of only three customers who continued paying on her property after he was sent to jail. “She came to the jail and asked where the payments were to be made,” he said. When asked what became of the money, he replied: “The lawyers got it and crowded me for more.”

Then he began the story of his life. Born in a free state to a father who was a freed slave, Fleenor said he was raised in a town that was predominately white. “There were only three families of colored people and we were all thought everything of by the white people. My mother was the old mammy of the whole neighborhood,” he said.

“I was ambitious. I wanted to paint pictures or do something of that sort. But I learned the trade of cabinetmaking. I learned it well, too.

“Then I decided I would go out in the world. I thought I would get the same treatment I had in the town where I was born. I didn’t know any better,” he said.

“In place after place I offered to do a day’s work for nothing just to show what I could do. People seemed to like me. They wanted to give me work—gardening or shoveling coal or something like that. But, well, how would a lawyer feel if someone offered him a job taking care of chickens?

“Many places I was told they’d like to put me to work but that if they did all their other workers would walk out of the shop. I am not saying anything against the unions but that was how it was. That was all. It was simply the way fate was working with me.”

Sheriff Hammel and Jailer Aguirre were to escort Fleenor to San Quentin, but refused to say when they would leave.

“When I have landed Fleenor in San Quentin and have my receipt for him, then I will telegraph to Los Angeles that it is done,” Hammel said.

* * *

The engineer of a Southern Pacific freight derails his train because a naked lunatic throws himself on the tracks. A Bible from a mission at 145 N. Main St. found with his clothes gives his name as C.H. Clenin of Australia… A gray colt commits suicide in Echo Park lake rather than pull a cart. “There will be no inquest, for they do not hold inquests over colts, but out on Bellevue road, they will remember for many a day the little gray colt to which death was preferable to slavery,” The Times says… W.W. Garvin stabs fellow real estate dealer George Cunningham over a bad debt at the entrance to the Grant Building at 4th Street and Broadway.

The City Council approves a law limiting wholesale liquor stores to the saloon district. Dealers have been given 11 months to move their businesses inside the district. Apparently the saloon zone was so well-known that The Times didn’t need to report the boundaries; the southern border was the north side of 9th Street. The western boundary was extended in 1907 to the west side of the 3rd Street tunnel. The others are unclear.

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Fleenor Recaptured!

May 20, 1907
Los Angeles

Night jailer O.L. Gilpin thought the man in the drunk tank looked familiar—and indeed he was. Despite passing himself off as George Thompson, it was our old friend James G. Fleenor, otherwise known as the “barefoot burglar,” who walked out of a San Francisco jail en route to serving a prison term at San Quentin and hopped a freight train to Los Angeles.

“I was fair about the whole thing,” Fleenor told The Times. “When the officers left here I told them I would escape, but they were not bright enough to realize I meant what I said. When they placed me in that cell in the San Francisco station, I walked about and inspected it. Awaiting my time, I pried open the door.

“Walking out, I met an officer and he stopped to talk. I was in an awful hurry but I did not let him know it and after he had talked to me for a minute I walked out of the driveway, took a car and went directly to the railroad yards. The first freight train I saw pulling out I swung onto.”

Fleenor denied that he returned to Los Angeles because of a woman, Mrs. B.J. Byres of 1669 Tennessee St. “She is attractive, but has figured in police circles before, they say,” according to The Times.

Officer Ray Robbins saw Fleenor at 1 a.m. Sunday on Santa Fe Avenue near 9th Street and found him carrying a roll of blankets and two iron bars. Fleenor pretended to be drunk, but Robbins ran him in for stealing the blankets.

Fleenor tried to escape from officers as the patrol wagon pulled into the Central Station on 1st Street, but he was captured at 1st and Broadway and offered no further resistance.

Placed in the drunk tank with 100 others, Fleenor attracted Gilpin’s attention. Gilpin pulled Fleenor’s mug shot and handed it to him.

“Did you ever see that man?” Gilpin asked.

Fleenor shook his head.

The Times said: “Gilpin grasped the Negro’s hand and shook it, saying: ‘You are pretty smooth, old boy; but I know you, Fleenor.’ ”

Upon being notified that Fleenor was in custody, Sheriff Hammel said: “I am the happiest man in Los Angeles tonight.”

Lmharnisch.com


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Mullen in Bad Plight


May 18, 1907
Los Angeles

William Mullen, a black strikebreaker for the Pioneer Truck Company, was delivering a shipment of lumber when he realized that he had lost some of his load and retraced his route to look for it.

At the Southern Pacific railroad crossing at Alameda and 2nd streets, Mullen noticed some lumber leaning against a shack belonging to a railroad flagman named Caulfield, who was presumably white. Mullen asked Caulfield if there was more of his lumber inside the shack and Caulfield said no.

Mullen challenged Caulfield, knocked him to the ground and began kicking him when Patrick Connelly, a union teamster for the Water Department and also presumably white, intervened, although it’s unclear whether he was trying to stop the fight or to aid Caulfield.

With one blow, Mullen knocked Connelly to the ground and as he fell, Connelly struck his head on a rock and died.

The Times said: “…it would seem that William Mullen was very much surprised at the result of his blow. He appeared to be wondering at it still while the story was being retold yesterday.”

There’s no photograph of Mullen, and The Times’ description is problematic to say the least: “The big Negro’s eyes rolled restlessly during the proceedings. He seemed perplexed as if the story told by various witnesses was strange to him in some respects. The death of the man he is accused of killing remains, perhaps, incomprehensible to him.

“The testimony yesterday indicates that the defendant is bad-tempered and brutal, and that he was careless in a little scrimmage which took place on May 14 at 2nd and Alameda streets and also that his strength was a dangerous possession for such a man.”

Mullen was convicted and sentenced to five years in prison. Bail was rejected for Mullen pending his appeal, despite a petition to the court stating that he supported 14 people and that Pioneer Truck Company was ready to rehire him. His conviction was upheld in 1908 and he apparently served his term at San Quentin.

* * *


Henry Flynn, a butcher, pays a fine of $250 ($5130.89 USD 2005) in lieu of 250 days in jail for beating a horse to death. The jury recommended leniency because the horse balked.

Lmharnisch.com


Lmharnisch.blogspot.com

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Your Loyalty Is Flattering

Now aren’t you nice? Two weeks after the Dahlia books went back to their cave deep beneath the Nevada Test Site, people are still visiting.

Shout out to:

Hon Industries, Muscatine, Iowa (192.237.32.76)

USC (68.181.221.8)

Tohono O’odham Utility Authority

Tigerville, S.C. (67.32.49.151)

Enclave Apartments, Jacksonville, Fla. (216.85.238.67) 20 hours., 23 minutes, 40 seconds

Disney (204.128.192.8) Windows 2000? Upgrade!

Googlebot (66.249.65.16)

Adelphia subscriber in Fullerton, Calif. (68.66.64.89) 49 visits!

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