Watch and marvel as I escape this cage using the incredible power of my court appointed defense attorney.
This odd photo shows Eric Pederson, whose real name was Charles E. Putnam, showing off for photographers after he had been arrested on suspicion of auto theft in Los Angeles today in 1947. He and a companion named Edward Sell were busted by cops inside a car belonging a third party, though both denied they were trying to steal it. Pederson is rock hard in this photo for a reason. He was the reigning Mr. California, a title he won at only eighteen years old. The win sent him onward to the Mr. America competition, but he was beaten for the national crown by future Superman Steve Reeves.
Pederson generated plenty of publicity off that and other bodybuilding competitions, which led to a Your Physique cover painted by none other than George Quaintance. Since Quaintance painted only about a dozen of these, this was quite an honor. From there Pederson was able to launch a long pro wrestling career, which is how he's mainly remembered today. At one time he had Hollywood aspirations, but ended up managing only one role—a bit part as a wrestler in 1951's Civilian Coast Guard, starring Brian Donlevy and Ella Raines.
We weren't able to find out how his auto theft arrest turned out, but considering his seemingly unbroken timeline from bodybuilding competitions to wrestling, it's safe to say the charges were pleaded down to a misdemeanor or dismissed altogether. Which just goes to show that even quasi celebrity is helpful in L.A. Or maybe the cops gave him a break in exchange for bodybuilding tips. In any case, Pederson retired from wrestling in 1961 and died in 1990, but the Quaintance painting guarantees he'll be remembered as long as people collect great magazine art. We have more from Quaintance here, here, and here.
Hayworth enjoys a not-so-light snack in Santa Monica.
Published today in 1941, we love this Life magazine cover of Rita Hayworth on the beach in Santa Monica, California. But we love the second photo even more. Movie stars will do just about anything to avoid being photographed unhinging their jaws to cram in a pile of food. You can't blame them. Paparazzi lurk in hope of getting exactly this type of shot, which they sell for big money to websites that specialize in making celebs look bad. Hayworth turns the idea into comedy while simultaneously looking appetizing herself. That's star power for you.
Yep, this guy's dead as hell. Too bad. He could sue the beer company for false advertising.
This photo, which is part of the archive of mid-century Los Angeles Herald press shots maintained by the University of Southern California, shows a suicide at the front entrance of Temple M.E. Church at 14th and Union in Los Angeles. The man was named Robert Palmer, and you can see that the poor guy shot himself in the middle of the forehead. You can also see that he bled profusely, which suggests his heart pumped for a bit before he finally died. L.A.P.D. detective Hugh Palmer (no relation) stands over him. Like many suicides Robert Palmer had a final drink before doing the deed. His choice? As you see in the zoom below, it was Lucky Lager, which conferred no benefits whatsoever. Maybe a rabbit's foot or a horseshoe would have been more effective. Or not. The photo is from today in 1957.
Serial killer art released in effort to solve cold cases.
As pulp art fans we were a bit amazed by this next news item. The FBI has just released drawings imprisoned serial killer Samuel Little made of his victims, with the hope that the images will help in solving open cases. Little is serving life for three murders he committed in California, but he claims to have killed ninety women over nearly four decades. Law enforcement in various states have definitively linked him to more than thirty murders. Many of those killings were not classified as such at the time because Little's preferred method of dispatch was to knock the women out and strangle them, which meant that there were not always clear signs of foul play if the remains went undiscovered for any amount of time.
But now, by circulating these drawings, authorities hope to close dozens of cases scattered throughout the United States in places the nomadic Little is suspected to have traveled. The feds are being helped by Little himself, who agreed to cooperate in exchange for being allowed a transfer to a new prison. He's 78 years old and in poor health, which means it's basically now or never in securing his assistance.
After Little dies in prison it will be interesting to see what eventually happens to these drawings. In the past such artifacts tended to end up in repositories such as the Black Museum and similar places, but in this day and age we suspect they'll be destroyed once their usefulness is agreed to have passed. Since they're incredibly sad when considered in context, destruction may be a fitting end for them. But it's also possible, though not likely, that they could be sold and the proceeds used to compensate victims' families. One thing is for sure—there are plenty of collectors of the morbid out there who would buy them.
When's the last time you cleaned your doorbell?
We like a good tonguing. Everybody does. But even the gentlest tongue can create soreness after a while and that's what happened in Salinas, California, when a nocturnal tonguer irritated the town. The tale began when a family alerted by its security system to the presence of a nighttime visitor reviewed video footage and was surprised to discover that an unidentified man had come lick, lick, licking at their front porch door. They posted a frame from the video on social media and alerted police and neighbors to the menace. The good people of Salinas can now rest easy—the assailant has been identified as Roberto Daniel Arroyo, a thirty-something local citizen, possibly homeless. A motive for his actions has yet to emerge, but since he was obviously looking for some sort of recognition by playing to the security camera, we think boredom and/or loneliness may have been factors. Can't rule out psychoactive drugs either.
But here's the interesting part. Tonguing doorbells isn't illegal. Filthy, yes, considering all the bodily dirt embedded in them. But illegal? No. A porch is an invitation to the public to inquire whether a domicile's occupants are present. You can't just stand on the street and yell at the house. And certainly there's no law stating you can't touch a doorbell with your tongue. It's no worse than fingering it, when you really think about it. And there's also no law against being in public at 4 a.m. Well, not technically. Our non-U.S. readers may be interested to know that cops will often hassle you when they see you out at that hour, but it isn't actually illegal. So Arroyo broke no laws by tonguing the doorbell. It was weird as hell, but within the bounds of legality as normally interpreted. Unfortunately, he complicated his situation by stealing some electrical cords. The law is pretty clear on that. Jail may be in his future. And there, once the inmates learn of his proclivity for tonguing things, boredom and/or loneliness are not likely to be problems.
L.A. man ends the holidays with a bang.
We've always been fascinated by splatter shots from the mid-century period. When did someone finally decide people had a right to privacy even in death? We don't know, but we think it was a good idea. Before that change came about press photographers routinely tramped around crime scenes documenting mayhem for profit. These images show the aftermath of a murder-suicide that took place today in 1951. Pictured are L.A. cops Detective Lieutenant George A. Encinas and Detective Lieutenant Bill Cummings, along with the bodies of Charles Sullivan and his wife, identified only as Mrs. Charles Sullivan. Maybe a new year would have brought new hope to this household, but we'll never know, nor will we know exactly why Sullivan shot his wife and himself. The images are part of the always compelling collection of Los Angeles Examiner photos maintained by the University of Southern California.
Most people thought her place was in the house. She thought her place was in the Senate.
This photo shows a quartet of overdressed campaign workers cleaning graffiti from a Mildred Younger billboard in Hollywood, California. Running as a Republican, Younger lost a bid to become the first woman elected to the California senate. During her run she dealt with all the expected problems—dismissal, ridicule, hate mail and, apparently, defaced billboards. Despite all this she was defeated only narrowly. According to reports she took the loss hard, but afterward kept her hand in politics by helping direct the career of her husband, state attorney general Evelle J. Younger, and later by serving as a consultant to Richard M. Nixon. The photo just below shows Younger in mid-campaign, looking confident. Both shots are from 1954.
She made him an offer he couldn't refuse.
Above is a nice piece of promo art for Hot Cars, an obscure little flick some people classify as a film noir, but which we think of as a basic crime melodrama. A Culver City used car salesman's lofty ethics get him fired from a used car lot, but hired at another whose owner is looking for employees with “honest faces and honest souls to go along with them.” But there's more than meets the eye going on here. There's a stolen car ring working Southern California and our honest John begins to suspect it's his new employer's lot the autos are being funneled through. His suspicions are quickly confirmed—his boss wanted an honest face as a front for the crooked lot. Honest boy quits in a huff, but with a sick son and medical bills piling up he has to go crawling back, and from there he just gets in deeper and deeper. The film is nothing special, but statuesque Joi Lansing plays the owner's femme fatale wife, and she's the real heat in Hot Cars. At just an hour in length the movie comes with a discount in time expenditure, so with Lansing as part of the package it's a deal you shouldn't refuse. It premiered in the U.S. today in 1956.
Hi, I'm Joi. I see you've noticed I'm sizzling hot.
You'd give your right arm to have a woman as hot as me and we both know it.
You realize the drink is just going to make me look even hotter, right?
If you think I'm smoking hot at twenty-six, just wait until I hit my late thirties.
That heat in your chest isn't indigestion. It's me. It's my hotness.
I'm hot, but often quite approachable too. Like now.
I'm going to ruin your life, but hotly, so you'll mostly love it.
You oughta be in pictures.
Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer's famed lion mascot, who roared at the beginning of every MGM picture, was known as Leo. But like an actor playing a role, the lions used in those famed openings had real names. The first lion was used by MGM's predecessor Goldwyn Pictures. He was named Slats, and you see him above in this profile shot made at Gay's Lion Farm in El Monte, California. Slats played Leo for Goldwyn and MGM from 1916 to 1928, to be followed by such luminaries as Jackie, Teller, Tanner, George, etc. Slats was the only lion that didn't roar, because he got the gig before sound was introduced into film. While he's immortal as a logo, he died in 1936. For his faithful service he was skinned and his hide was put on display. It's still around, at the moment residing at the McPherson Museum in McPherson, Kansas.
*psst* Hey, New Zealand, if you don't stop screwing around you're gonna get low marks for poise.
One person's misfortune is another's opportunity—not to mention hilarity. This photo shows Miss New Zealand—Moana Manley—passed out during the 1954 Miss Universe Pageant, staged today that year in Long Beach, California. Manley fainted during an outdoor photo session. Some accounts say heat exhaustion got her, but it was not especially hot that day—about 72 degrees Fahrenheit, or 22 Celsius. It was more likely stress. She was, after all, not only the first woman from her country to compete at Miss Universe, but the first woman of Maori descent to win the title of Miss New Zealand. That'll apply a bit of pressure. You'll often see the photo labeled as a 1957 shot, but that's incorrect. There was no representative from New Zealand in the pageant that year. No, the shot is definitely from 1954, and the winner was ultimately Miss U.S.A., Miriam Stevenson, who was probably like, “Yup, when that Kiwi hit the ground I knew I had it in the bag.”
The headlines that mattered yesteryear.
1916—First Battle of the Somme Ends
In France, British Expeditionary Force commander Douglas Haig calls off a battle against entrenched German troops which had begun on July 1, 1916. Known as the Battle of the Somme, this action resulted in one of the greatest losses of life in modern history—over three-hundred thousand dead for a net gain of about seven miles of land.
1978—Jonestown Cult Commits Mass Suicide
In the South American country of Guyana, Jim Jones leads his Peoples Temple cult in a mass suicide that claims 918 lives, including over 270 children. Congressman Leo J. Ryan, who had been visiting the makeshift cult complex known as Jonestown to investigate claims of abuse, is shot by members of the Peoples Temple as he tries to escape from a nearby airfield with several cult members who asked for his protection.
1973—Nixon Proclaims His Innocence
While in Orlando, Florida, U.S. President Richard Nixon tells four-hundred Associated Press managing editors, "I am not a crook." The false statement comes to symbolize Nixon's presidency when facts are uncovered that prove he is, indeed, a crook.
1938—Lysergic Acid Diethylamide Created
In Basel, Switzerland, at the Sandoz Laboratories, chemist Albert Hofmann creates the psychedelic compound Lysergic acid diethylamide, aka LSD, from a grain fungus.
1945—German Scientists Secretly Brought to U.S.
In a secret program codenamed Operation Paperclip, the United States Army admits 88 German scientists and engineers into the U.S. to help with the development of rocket technology. President Harry Truman ordered that Paperclip exclude members of the Nazi party, but in practice many Nazis who had been officially classified as dangerous were also brought to the U.S. after their backgrounds were whitewashed by Army officials.
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