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Anything for a Bust

Submitted by mary on Wed, 2008-02-06 15:14.
February 6, 1927
 
rumsquad Over the weekend, the District Attorney's crackerjack Prohibition task force proved beyond the shadow of a doubt their devotion to the cause.
 
Then again, after the theatrical busts they staged, it's also possible that rum squad head George Contreras and his men simply craved adventure, danger, or an excuse to wear women's clothing.
 
The fun started when Contreras and two of his agents entered a home while dressed as telephone repairmen.  When they were unable to find the hooch inside, they flung open the chicken coop in the backyard, and were greeted by three full-grown lions.
 
Yes, three full-grown lions.  In a chicken coop. 
 
All three men promptly vaulted over the fence, and sought shelter across the street.  Here, they discovered A. Hernandez's 25 gallon still, and arrested him.
 
The lions were pets, they later discovered, though "not particularly fond of strangers." 
 
After the lion incident, Contreras dressed two more of his agents up in women's clothing and took them joy-riding to 217 E. 61st St..  Here, he pulled up to the home of a suspected moonshiner, Raymond Manley, and asked for "some liquor for the girlfriends."  When Manley brought out a bottle, police raided the place and discovered an enormous still, 180 gallons of whiskey, and 39 barrels of mash.
 
So, to sum up:  a man crafts a tasty beverage by hand, and goes to jail for his trouble, while the man who raises adult lions, in a chicken coop, no less, walks free.  And our rum squad seems to enjoy playing dress-up a little more than the average adult probably should.
 
Up is down, left is right.  Sheesh.
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Matthew 5:16 Goes Electric

Submitted by nathan on Mon, 2007-12-17 02:55.

 shedslight

captfixitDecember 16, 1927
Sawtelle

 

Los Angeles Police Captain W. L. Hagenbaugh feeds more juice into the stills of Sawtelle than he gets from them; after he raids the moonshiners and chops up their contraptions of copper and coil, he fashions fixtures and floor lamps for his new nine-room Spanish job up on Comstock in Westwood. 

 

 

Recently, materials from three forty gallon bootleg stills, lined in some very fine silver, have been reclaimed from their sinful ways and turned toward this honest enterprise.

 

This writer’s inquisitive interests now satisfied—yeah, you’re green, I get it—my acquisitive interest takes over:  where are these shades now?

 

 

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Gilbert and Sullivan Said It Best

Submitted by larry on Sat, 2006-10-28 08:31.

Oct. 28, 1907
Los Angeles

You know the song even if you

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A Sad Day For the Officers

Submitted by kim on Thu, 2006-05-25 20:48.

May 25, 1907
Los Angeles 

For eleven years, pigeons have filled the nooks and roosts of the city's police station, watching over the parade of troubled souls who come to that refuge, some dragged in bodily, others seeking aid. The police officers have coddled their feathered confederates, keeping them fat with daily offerings and giving names to the most distinctive of their numbers.

All that ends tomorrow, by order of the city's judges and police officials. They have determined that the impromptu coop is a filthy nuisance and a hotbed of avian vice, and with that stark declaration, these spoiled creatures have been sentenced to death by sniper.

Yes, they will all be shot--starting with Old Bill, the big black male who reigns over his flock, and followed by all his courtiers, wives, children and cousins. Once their fate became clear, the officers insisted guns must be used, for they could not bear to snare and strangle their friends, and if they trapped and shipped them away, it would only be a matter of days before they returned to their longtime home.

Tonight the police station is a mournful place, and the sweet cooing of its aerial residents inspire only sadness in those below. Old Bill has but one night to live, and when he dies so too will a piece of the hearts of all who knew him.

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