alexandria hotel
How to Meet a Big Movie Star
Submitted by nathan on Fri, 2007-04-20 22:18.April 21, 1927
Los Angeles
Angelenos had a rough time on the road today—Miss Rachel Miller was struck by Joseph J. Reuter as she crossed the 2600 block of Pico, suffering a fractured skull, concussion of the brain, a broken knee and leg; Henry Van De Kamp was struck by I. Tomioka at East Second and 
Central, fractured skull, concussion of the brain; J. L. Perrine, who admitted his brakes were “not so good,” drove into and off of a 400-foot embankment on Effie in the Moreno Highlands, multiple abrasions; four motorists walked away when the front half of their auto was flattened by the Los Angeles Railway car at First and Hill; and one Miss Mollie Reesor miraculously suffered only black eyes and a nasal fracture after being hurled twenty-five feet by a hit-and-run at the corner of Washington Street and Harvard Boulevard.
Most notable, naturally, was the pedestrian-killing of Mrs. Eleanor Bishop, fatally injured when run down by prolific film star Kenneth Harlan, of 810 Camden Drive. Harlan, on his way to a benefit at the Alexandria, stated
that the woman stepped from behind a parked car near Wilshire and Tremaine. After he struck Bishop, he drove her to the office of Dr. James Johnston at Sixth and Western, where she nonetheless expired. Assuming Harlan still had time to make the benefit, his day looked like this.
(Here's Harlan putting the lovey dovey on then-wife [and subject of continued tasteless interest] Marie Prevost. They divorced in 1927.)
Grave Embarrassment in the Alexandria Hotel
Submitted by kim on Wed, 2006-03-15 11:57.March 14, 1907
Los Angeles
Tongues were wagging on every floor of the Alexandria Hotel this morning, following the delicious faux pas of conservative businessman Walter Dinmore, a resident of San Francisco and Los Angeles. Roused by his "Jap" valet to take an important long distance telephone call from Santa Barbara in the lobby, the tousled Dinmore hurried from his room, only to encounter barely supressed merriment at every turn.
First a crew of Catholic girls fresh from their worships chortled, then an elderly lady he waved into the elevator seemed about to perish from the giggles. A bell hop dropped a pitcher of water, so great was his glee upon seeing Mr. Dinmore.
Finally, the gentleman was alone in the telephone booth, where he had a moment to reflect upon the curious afflictions of his fellow guests... and gaze down his own legs, to see vast billows of pink silk pajama material covering his shoes. Mortified, he dashed for the elevators, but found them engaged. In rising horror, he grabbed a porter and demanded aid. The porter led the humiliated Dinmore into a secret nook below stairs where he could divest himself of his shameful sartorial sin, then slink upward, his errand quite forgotten.
Below, a place where pink pajamas are not welcome.
