Toe-Bling, 1907 Style
Nightmares on Bunker Hill Easter Tour Snaps
On Sunday, April 16, a merry busload of crime geeks boarded our stretch hearse (actually a plush touring coach, courtesy of our pal Dennis at American Transporation Systems) for a five-hour tour into the weird crannies and freaky nooks of downtown Los Angeles and Chinatown. From the O’Connor Electroplating Disaster to the hairy ghoul gal of Old Sonoratown, severed hands to rotting panhandlers, deadly Xmas gifts to fake mediums, it was a delightful dip into the weird old L.A. that’s not there anymore.
Here are a few photographic impressions to mark the day. And if you’d like a spin on the Crime Bus, please note: Nightmares of Bunker Hill rolls again on June 10.
Dogs and Whisky: Saviors of Man
Dramatic Disclosures Come After Girl Cashier’s Death
April 20, 1907
Los Angeles
Pity Miss Alice Chevallier, native of this city, who took too powerful a sleeping potion a few evenings past, and now lays rotting in her grave in New Calvary. She follows her mother and her brother, but unlike them, her death brings with it unwelcome notoriety.
Alice was a longtime cashier at the Ville de Paris dry goods emporium on Broadway, between 2nd and 3rd Streets. At some stage in her career, she developed a system by which she could bring home with her a portion of the day’s receipts. In recent months, it is believed this was as much as $300 a day. A clever girl, she invested her takings in real estate, and built a handsome portfolio.
But her ingrained nervousness and peculiar disposition–she did not care for men, and perhaps not coincidentally suffered ovarian tumors, neuralgia and insomnia–proved the thief’s undoing. She found it necessary to escape to Catalina to rest following an operation, although she must have realized that her absense from the place of her crimes would make discovery likely. And that is precisely what happened.
Alice returned to her home at 226 West Jefferson, distraught from a sustained bout of sleeplessness and the anxiety of meeting the Ville de Paris’ lawyers. Although her real estate holdings were now sufficiently valuable to cover any restitution required and more, she languished in a state of abject horror.
On Sunday evening, Alice told her sister-in-law that she intended to take a sleeping powder, but in fact she took laudanum and chloroform, two drugs with which she had significant past experience. This time, the dose was too much for her weakened system, and the girl lingered until Wednesday before expiring. Her doctors stress that although it might look like a suicide, the true cause was congestion of the brain–the same organic disorder that lead her to steal in the first place.
Strange Recluse Spied in Santa Anita Canyon
April 19, 1907
north of Monrovia
It seems the rumors are true: there really is a wild man living in the remote reaches of Big Santa Anita Canyon! He was seen this week by two brave boys from Monrovia, Charles Crandall and Sherman Black, who climbed high into the hills, past the old Sturtevant camp, to the West Fork, then about two miles above Clam Shell Canon. It was there they encountered the living myth.
The wild man has long been rumored to live in the caves high above civilization, and to be insane. The creature the Monrovians spied was old and yellow skinned, with long claws on his hands, a wild beard and stooped figure. He was surprised in the doorway of his rude dwelling, a windowless concrete hut with live oak rafters, but slammed the door when they attempted to make conversation.
The young men of Monrovia are not to be so easily snubbed. Even now, an exploration party is being assembled, with the intention of learning more about what makes the wild man tick.
Steam Hammer
More Fun with the Second Amendment
To Our Friends On The Bay
April 18, 1907
Los Angeles
On the one year anniversary of the terrible conflagration that struck down our northern neighbor, the great town of San Francisco, the citizens of Los Angeles send fond wishes for its continued rebuilding… but hasten to point out that the climate, society and business atmosphere south of Tehachapi is far superior to anything offered on that shaking, scorched penninsula.
Highwayman in Pasadena
April 15, 1907
Pasadena
As criminality reaches epidemic proportions in sleepy Pasadena, the citizenry grumbles about Chief Pinkham’s skills as police head, and makes noises about replacing him.
The latest outrage was visited upon George Syer, a public carriage driver who was called out to 876 Lincoln Avenue this evening, ostensibly to take some women to a train. The address should have been found north of Mountain, in an unlit area. He did not find the house, but while looking was acosted by a man with a thick Irish brogue who demanded his money. Syer parted with a dollar in change, but kept the contents of his other pocket. No mention was made of a weapon being brandished, but it is well known that one can’t be too careful with Irishmen!