Recent Updates Toggle Comment Threads | Keyboard Shortcuts

  • John 1:32 pm on July 22, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: flirting, mashing   

    The History Of Mashing 

    The dictionary defines “mashing” as – Slang To flirt with or make sexual advances to.

    Back in the olden days, when it was still not quite safe for women to be out on the street alone, she may be mashed upon by a strange man. Seems pretty common today, but in the past it was illegal and not tolerated. In cities and towns, men didn’t have the ready imagery of women like there is today, so they would hang out in the street, ducked in under buildings and eaves to stare at women who were walking by. In old black and white photos if you see two belles walking down the sidewalk, you will also notice men loitering around to get an eyeful. Some took it a step further, and mashed on them. There were also reports of serial huggers – men who would go up to a lady and feign recognition with a pervy hug. With a mashing conviction came heavy fines and sometimes a jail term.

    In the excellent book “Policewomen” by Kerry Segrave we are witness to the controversy from both sides. Pro and Con. Quotes ranging to everything from “It’s the girl’s fault” to the age-old blame of the role of females in movies:


    In this case from 1910, the man claims innocence and goes so far as to say he doesn’t even like women. I’m not sure if “spooning” means what I think it means:


    The term also applied to overall pervs in general. This man was jailed for creeping around some children and buying them ice cream (from 1911). I’m not sure if he ate their lunch or they did:


    Also from 1911, in this long essay about Los Angeles we find out that “the masher is the victim of a disease” …and… “they are a nuisance”. And a pretty woman goes undercover to catch mashers:


    In 1920 this “he vamp” got his ass busted mashing:


    This 1941 article from Milwaukee mentions a serial hugger:


    Also from 1941, a year in which news about mashing seems to have crested, we find out that fed-up women wanted stiffer fines for mashing, but the judge isn’t buying it. Also mentioned is the hugger scare of last year:


  • John 10:15 am on July 22, 2016 Permalink | Reply

    The Return Of Ron Launius! 

    Not really. Just some small info to keep your fires burning…

    In June of 1957, David Lind applied for Social Security disability benefits but he was denied. Disability type was not listed. (document found via cross-reference of his mother’s name)

    After having reached the lawful minimum of living in the United States for five years, and with gainful employment, in 1956, Ed applied for his Naturalization in the USA via Milwaukee where he of course owned a restaurant called “Eat’n Time”. One of his female relatives owned or worked at Shamalie’s Dinnette restaurant. Even at this point, he was already living in a big brick home with his wife Maria from Milwaukee and his baby daughter. Seven dollars my ass! The Nash was smart: the old “marry a citizen and have an anchor baby” trick! …and then your newfound citizenship simply consists of filling out some paperwork. In 1956, Ed’s first child with Maria named Debra was born in Milwaukee. There is almost an entire chapter on Debra in my book.

    In the Olivehurst city directory, Ron Launius is seen living at this duplex in unit B with his first wife Fay. I’m guessing that second unit there, and these probably were much nicer back then. Of course, Ron is listed as “USAF” in the directory. In the 1970 directory, it’s the same but includes his old phone number. I guess that was so Cherokee could call him, and for other shady deals. Ron and Fay were divorced in 1970 so it’s a good guess that either Ron was long gone from this address by ’69 or that Fay moved back down to Atwater where she was from (probably the latter, since she filed in San Bernadino). Fay died in 1988 at 40 years old. At fifteen, she gave birth to another serviceman’s baby girl, which was quickly put up for adoption. She must have lived a troubled life til the end.

    You can’t find a good used old Blazer anymore… ‘cept in Olivehurst:

  • John 12:41 pm on July 19, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: benny sternberg, benny sutton, elsie lee hilair, hotel martinique, nypd   

    Elsie And The Tango Pirate 

    “…but the outside world is a forest of dangers.”

    -Luc Sante

    * *

    Living in New York City in 1917 must have been something else, with all of the prosperity, the explosion of silent films, emerging technology and the ever-changing social culture of the day. And although it was a large city, New York was still relatively quiet and safe. There was only about one murder committed every other day, placing the overall figure in the 200s. Not bad for a city of six-and-a-half million souls. And this was thanks to a reformer-mayor, who vowed and did get tough on crime after a court clerk was hit by a stray gangland bullet in 1914. The number of murders went down in the city over the next five years. It was within this relative Camelot that our story unfolds. Horse still competing with buggy, gas competing with electricity, and the NYPD, by now one of the finest police forces in the world, competing with mostly theft or petty crimes. And the Tango, although not a crime in the Big Apple, was looked upon by some almost as if it were one of the more lurid headlines to rarely capture the front page.

    The Hilairs lived in the third floor apartment of this brownstone on Clinton St. in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn

    The Hilairs lived in the third floor apartment of this brownstone on Clinton St. in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn

    The newspapers of New York at the time were very matter-of-fact, almost dreary affairs. News of the first World War and the hunt for Pancho Villa down south of the border seemed to be the spectacles for most readers. The NY Times was considered “an educated reader’s choice”, while immigrants or blacks generally had their own language news or ethnic papers to peruse daily. It was only when some lurid case of high society hit the wire that the more traditional newspapers in town would run with it. The outlandish sold! And as nobody really cared about unknown murders of the poor, say if Joe the bartender down at Lenny’s got shot by a drunk on Saturday – they devoured stories like the one you about to read. This is Elsie and the Tango Pirate.


    An old tango palace, still around in 1970

    An old tango palace sign, still around in 1970

    The “Tango” was a dance out of Argentina. It hit New York like a thunderbolt in 1913. Tango parlors sprang up and were very popular, especially with male “dandies” and lonely ladies. It’s been said the tango started in the slums of Argentina and went on to conquer the world. It kind of did.

    It was from Vaudeville acts born a few decades earlier, that the era of true celebrity worship by the masses had begun. With photographs and these traveling shows visiting every state, fans had their favorite performers, singers, comedy acts and dancers hanging on their walls, tucked in a wallet or adorning the saloons. There were pamphlets distributed on how to break into the business, whether a singer, dancer, etc. It was becoming the stuff dreams were made of, and this phenomenon only exploded further with the “It” girls of silent films. Young ladies were star struck. And since Vaudeville shows had to also reel in young men, performers and beautiful singers were often costumed in skimpy outfits – showing the curves of the female form for the first time – and in person!

    Elsie Lee Hilair was a pretty young lady in her thirties. Her beauty did not jump out at one though. More like a Cleopatra, it was the way she carried herself, her manner, her style. One young man is quoted as having pretended to check his watch outside of the hotel bar, just so he could get one more look at the mysterious woman, who by the style of the day – was more hat than head. Old black and white photos rob us of things in the modern era, for we cannot tell if the roof of that hotel was red, the person’s coat purple, or the pretty lady’s hair blonde. Even if some charlatan colorizes it with guesswork, we still get robbed.

    I at first thought of a young Edith Bunker, but seeing I guess was believing. And these styles are now more seemingly common to me than ladies’ fashions are today. Like a few years ago when women were wearing cut-off jeans and hiking boots, what was that all about?

    This "glamour shots"-ish photo was used by police in trying to find her killer.

    This “glamour shots”-style photo was used by police in trying to find her killer.

    Mrs. Hilair was also a young lady pulled into the orbit of celebrity and stardom, albeit through what was undoubtedly a mid-life crisis. She went to the Orpheum Theatre often and was given a generous allowance by her boring husband. She lived in a posh apartment on Clinton Street in Brooklyn’s Cobble Hill neighborhood, still a nice address by 1917. Upper-middle class, even at the tail-end of its heyday, and immigrants and other ethnic groups were still relatively confined to their own neighborhoods elsewhere. Elsie was originally from New Jersey, and was married to a furniture dealer, who at one time was wealthy, but at the time of her death in 1917 was now just a salesman – his wealth diminished. He had great wealth prior to this, and in that time he bought Elsie some very expensive jewelry. About $2,500 worth, in those days – a tidy sum ($47,000 in 2016). Elsie wore the big hats of the era, sweepingly beautiful dresses and had dyed her dark blonde hair a stunning shade or two brighter. She caught the attention of everybody, including one Benny Sternberg, a local hustler, thief and racehorse tout. A few of the local cops that knew him a long time said that he never worked a day in his life. He was a sportin’ man, with a rich father who owned a skirt factory. He was a smoker and weighed about a buck forty.

    Benny Sutton aka Sternberg aka the Tango Pirate

    Benny Sutton aka Sternberg aka the Tango Pirate

    Seeing Elsie as an easy mark, upon meeting her amidst “some flirting” at the Orpheum Theatre in Brooklyn one afternoon, and exchanging those mutual flirtations, the pair agreed to meet the following day for a tryst in Manhattan at the then very posh Hotel Martinique. It’s a Radisson now, and in the 1980s had once been a welfare hotel, set up so by Mayor Ed Koch.

    The hotel as it appears today

    The hotel as it appears today

    But unknown to her niece, Elsie knew the man already – as he too frequented the many “tango parlors” and dance halls around the city.

    After a hardy late breakfast with her niece on a Thursday in chilly mid-March, which consisted of “steak, macaroni with tomato sauce, bread and coffee”, a fortified Elsie stepped out wearing her black fur stole, $11 in her pocket (about $200 today), ready for a date with Benny. As was her custom with men, and for added adventure, she often traveled to various nice hotels for these rendezvous. On Benny’s way to the Flatbush station, a local cop asked “Where ya goin’ Benny?” to which the five-foot-six-inch hustler replied, “I have a date with a chicken!” (is that where we get chick from?). And so they rode the subway train there together, being spotted by several people who remembered the dynamic “lookers”: her big ribbonly hat with so many ribbons it defied description from one female witness, and Benny’s two karat pinky ring, dapper suit and affable manner. Benny was about ten years her junior.

    Benny and his wife's apartment building in Brooklyn

    Benny and his wife’s apartment building in Brooklyn

    Being a two-bit, unemployed Brooklyn hustler, Benny (although married with a new child) prowled the theaters, dance halls and bars. Since Vaudeville, silent films and jazz where the best new fads and were taking the city by storm, this was the obvious place for the well-built Benny Sutton, as was his alias, to prowl for women: loose women, older women, young women – Benny did not discriminate. And losing his too-ethnic sounding last name gave him the air of a jet-setter, a distinguished new last name he must have pondered over many a night, until it rolled off the tongue – Sutton! Not a Brooklyn hack named Sternberg. But with his slight stature, heavy-set build and chubby, boyish face – his nice dress and flashy jewelry – reflecting a wealth he did not possess – was all that it took to reel in ladies in need or want of attention. And Elsie fell for it, even with his odd, recklessly appearing gait when he walked. He was a charmer. There was something about him too. And he was street-smart. At saloons, he was known as a ladies’ man, and spoke mostly of seeing shows, films or dancing – how good it was, or how funny it was. And of women. Lots of women. Benny liked to have fun, even flipping for drinks sometimes. And all of this despite having that new baby at home. His loyal father may have also financed his leisurely ambitions.

    The Orpheum Theatre in Brooklyn. It seated 1,200.

    The Orpheum Theatre in Brooklyn. It seated 1,200.

    From eyewitness accounts, they had a lively time conversing on the train and while walking down Broadway once they got to Manhattan. After a lively walk down Broadway, which was full of banter, they made their way into the Martinique. Since she checked into the hotel as “Florence Grey” and with no luggage, this would simply say it all. Benny must have waited by the elevators, but he was spotted in the lobby by a passer-by, a stenographer and lawyer originally from Mississippi, who testified at the Grand Jury hearing. Several witnesses remembered the pair, who seemed to attract attention: Elsie with her flair, and Benny with his perma-grin and careless wide walk.

    But infidelity is as old as the Book of Genesis. This is what people have always done and did back in those days before dating services, web sites, before lonely hearts ads were around. Before CraigsList could get a lady killed, it was still possible the old-fashioned way.


    Interestingly, another tidbit from this by-gone era: Elsie checked in saying it was just herself and that she was Florence Grey of Boston. She had no luggage. Customers with no luggage were often given a “hotel suit”, which was like a cheap paper linen gown for ladies or pajamas for men. These were discarded after use.

    So much information was given in the papers about a mysterious Benny, the one who frequented the tango parlors, that the cops were hot on his trail. And whether he did it or not, he finally turned himself in at the station house, saying: “I believe I am the Benny you are looking so hard for, what can I do for you?” Benny was initially questioned and released. But in his long grilling session, the cops seemed more tired and frazzled than Benny, who smiled the entire time. The good cop/bad cop routine did not work with him. His wife showed up with a female companion, and during a break in questioning she berated him in front of reporters for not telling her about these secret women. Then, she stormed out of the station.

    * *

    Elsie’s niece, Irene, first noticed Benny at the Vaudeville theater. His two-karat pinky ring alerting their watchful eyes, his courteous manner and big smile lending attractiveness where his looks seemed too short in achieving on their own. In her testimony, the counselors seemed very interested in the flirting, for flirting was such a tantalizing thing for them to talk about at the time, one can almost imagine the peanut gallery and jurors leaning forward, so as to not miss a word. But Benny had made such an impression on the nineteen year-old: His attitude; he was the cock of the walk. He had confidence. All this, the niece – with her strange relationship with the aunt who was married to her mother’s brother – remembered. And was able to tell it to the Grand Jury. When Benny was formally charged and arrested at his parent’s home, his aging father attacked officers with his cane, and was quickly dispatched to the ground. There were no cell phone videos then to capture the chaos, but Benny’s nineteen year-old sister lauged heartily at reporters and said sarcastically that she wished she had made extra photos of Benny to sell to them.

    But this was not Elsie’s first encounter with strange men. And after her murder, other hotels came forward with information that she had stayed at their establishments, always checking in alone, always for one night. This was always under the guise of going to spend time at her mother’s house in Rutherford, New Jersey. This is how Elsie got time away from a boring husband. The sex, and the Tango dancing and Jazz music was impossible for her to resist.

    Nothing else was seen of Elsie at the hotel that day, save for once. A maid was asked by Elsie if a side entrance existed, apart from the main lobby. She was told yes. And so then Elsie, with her big hat, disappeared down the hallway. When the hotel maid discovered Elsie’s body the next day, in the room Elsie paid $4 in cash for ($75 in 2016 money, $150 for two guests), she at first thought nothing of the messy pile of bedding on the bed, for guests often left the rooms in disarray – Nobody makes their bed at a hotel. But when the maid saw the bloody towels in the bathroom and noticed the women’s corset on a chair with no luggage around, her heart jumped. She proceeded to the bed. There, a nude Elsie lay dead with dried blood on her nose, mouth and chin. Wearing only stockings and her knee-high leather high-heeled boots. The maid then ran for help. This type of killing was not a common thing in those days and several hotel employees milled around in the hallway in in shock, disbelief. The bellhop, Emil, told detectives of the rings and jewelry, and so did the clerk. After inspecting the room and turning on the light, the bellhop noticed the diamond rings as Elsie fumbled with coins to give him a twenty cent tip ($4 today).

    The coroner testified to the Grand Jury that Elsie had been strangled to death with a cord. There were also signs of sexual activity, but it was hard to him to come to a rape conclusion based on the evidence. It could have been consensual. One thing was certain, however, the expensive jewelry was gone. The killer had difficulty removing her wedding ring though, for it was on good as you will, marks on the skin indicated a struggle for the ring. The coroner added that Elsie was very much nearing her menstrual cycle and would have reached that point in a few days, had she not been killed.

    During the Grand Jury, all attention seemed hinged on the niece’s testimony and the word “flirting”. Elsie’s husband knew her to be a flirt, but could never had imagined her committing such indiscretions behind his back. Everyone in her family was shocked. The neighborhood too. The newspapers ran full page stories. This lonely housewife, going out to “tango palaces” and meeting men at theatres; having sex with these men. But the tango dancing, the lure of popular jazz music and the excitement of it all made Elsie want to cut free, take chances, find some sort of adventure. And she certainly found it. It was thrown out in the press back a hundred years ago as a cautionary tale. And it was. Be careful what you wish and to whom you speak, and don’t talk to strangers, and listen to your gut feeling. All of the things our parents teach us growing up. For it is all true.

    Benny had been caught asking one person to falsely give him an alibi. The person did come forward, but with more witnesses placing Benny at the scene – he was there after all. And later admitted that he was there with Elsie, amidst so many eyewitnesses, but they only had sex and he left her in good spirits. That she planned to meet another man. And coincidentally, a note was found in another hotel room by a maid at the Martinique, purportedly from “Florence Grey”, and in the room of two mysterious men who were now gone. The note or letter asked the men to help her become a cabaret dancer – another secret she was probably going to hide away from her husband. And another woman came forward later which helped Benny. She said that she saw Benny and Elsie part ways when an older man appeared. Benny’s hair color also did not match chestnut-colored hairs found at the crime scene.

    Benny Sternberg seen with Hillair

    The real or planted note or letter and the mysterious woman had become just the red herrings Benny needed. And although he had also been seen later that night sporting a thick wad of cash, the charges were later dropped. He was never caught pawning jewelry, although a private fence is not a stretch. And although Benny would serve prison time for a theft of furs in 1921 with his gang of Einsteins, having attempted to first flee to Canada – he was returned and served his five to ten at Sing Sing prison for 1st degree grand larceny. His father was in the fur trade by this time, so maybe this was one of his competitors or suppliers. He served three and a half years, but the suspicion of the murder of Elsie would follow him around the rest of his life. And he would forever be known as “the Tango Pirate”. When Morris Sternberg died of old age in the late 1920s, he willed to his son $2,000. Benny’s date with the reaper is unknown.

    The End.

    If you find Elsie or Benny on findagrave, let me know!


    Evidence by Luc Sante
    The People of the State of New York vs. Benjamin Sternberg
    Old news articles

  • John 10:17 am on July 15, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: NYPD archives   

    "The Wages Of Sin Is Death" 

    Amidst the pages of these ancient newspapers, filled with their ads for miracle cure medicines and news of the Great War, one can sometimes locate a news article to accompany some old crime scene photos. And that is what has happened here. The original photo captions from the NYPD called this an “ax murder”. Which it is.

    The year was 1916 and the month was January. The news articles offer up some facts but leave the reader with many unanswered questions: Was Nathan Pullman deranged? Was he a control freak, a heavy drinker, a philanderer? Had his wife left him due to other abuse? We don’t know. His wife was killed in bed – was she recovering from an illness? This was an older couple, so had her rheumatism been acting up?


    The daughter was also violently killed. Had she taken the side of her mother? Had this feud long been brewing? For she must have known the true side of her father – who, after the crime thoughtlessly declared in his note that we “not worry about these two…”. And the daughter, Gertrude, is undoubtedly well-dressed with her fancy dress of the era, coupled with probably a complicated set of petticoats beneath, and what is likely her fur coat, which seems to be hastily hung on the coat rack at the far wall. Was she there in haste to finally confront the old man, once and for all? Had the mother traveled from Chicago to New York to get away from him?


    And $5,000 was a princely sum in 1916. Why had he brought such a bankroll? To win back his wife? We will never know. And his “wages of sin…” comment does not inform us whether it is his sin or someone else’s.

    During this era, gas was the primary utility for light and sometimes heat. Dangerous yes, but electricity was still more so, and there were a lot of accidental electrocutions back then. The metal tubes seen dangling strangely from ceilings in these old photos were the gas jets, there to light up a room. The cost of a light bulb during this time was a few bucks – expensive – and they did not last very long. Gas was the best option. Bathtubs too were a luxury with most people bathing out of a washtub, and very seldom. Ladies wore loud perfume, and men – the same, and cologne of the era would today remind one of “Old Spice”, strong and yet able to just barely mask the funk.

    The address given, points to a building in Staten Island, not the Bronx, so I could not pinpoint and obtain a street view. RIP, ladies.


  • John 1:08 pm on July 14, 2016 Permalink | Reply  

    An Eerie Murder-Suicide From 100 Years Ago 

    Just as old or older than the professions of prostitution and serial killing, murder-suicides are no different today than they were a hundred years ago. Let’s look at three cases. I will post one case per day. The first one is really pretty crazy. All three of these stories were actually covered extensively in the newspapers of the time (around 1915) in New York City. There are gory dead people in photos. This is your trigger warning, no pun intended.

    George McAghon kills Bessie Cornelius and then himself.

    George was a widower of two years and an assistant foreman at the Jersey City rail yards in 1915. A self-made man, he earned the equivalent then of $35,000 per year in today’s cash. George was also an army veteran of the Spanish-American war. The 5’7″ McAghon joined up in 1898 at the age of 21. His parents were from Ireland, he was from Jersey. He had been working as assistant yardmaster from as early as 1905.

    The yards could be a dangerous place and George was required to carry a gun. Having met Bessie in Jersey City the year before, he fell in love but she married a rich, older man and moved to Brooklyn, and all this after wrecking her husband’s first marriage. The ex-wife even mentioned Bessie in the divorce papers. Bessie may have been so treacherous, but it pushed George over the edge. She had kept his love notes, and since he knew which window to climb in, there may have been secret trysts with George since her new husband worked the graveyard shift. Her husband, Carman, was mentioned in the papers as a “wealthy produce market owner”. And Bessie was often seen using the pay-telephone two blocks away at the drugstore. George was 35, Bessie was 20.


    Carman had injured his hand at work, so he took a few nights to recuperate at home. But on this hot June night, George was either peeved at Bessie for canceling on him after making the long journey to Bedford-Stuy, Brooklyn from Jersey City, which would have included two boat rides and numerous trolley cars, or maybe his extreme jealousy and love-sickness simply got the best of him. Luckily, he remembered to bring his gun – and climbing through this window, he shot at Carman first, but Carman escaped and ran for help. Then, he shot Bessie twice in the head and turned the revolver to his temple and went into eternity, dying in another man’s bed. He left behind four small children. Carman Cornelius was said to have suffered a nervous breakdown. In the 1930 census, Carman is shown at age 50, working as a office building superintendent and living with his elderly parents as a bachelor in Brooklyn. I guess he got on with his life the best he could. He was 35 when the murder-suicide occurred – same age as George. By happenstance, Carman worked as a railroad conductor back in 1900. Carman died at age 60 on April 11, 1940.


    Their apartment was described as being “expensively furnished”. And George scraped his shin while making his quick entrance. The husband was off the hook after four hours of questioning, which may have included the “third degree” – this being an era of no-nonsense cops getting tough with suspects. But, after finding the love notes from George tucked away in Bessie’s personal wooden chest, they concluded the case as a clandestine affair which the husband did not know about.

    Here’s what those apartments look like today. They are kind of rundown looking:


    And here are the crime scene photos. George’s fancy threads are mentioned by the newspapers as well as his panama hat and signet ring. Cops were able to ID him after about 14 hours of investigation. I will post murder-suicide case number two tomorrow. It is just as chilling!

    And George’s house on Erie St. in Jersey City, second from the end:


  • John 10:03 am on July 14, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: paul harvey, policemen   

    Policemen Are Good Folks Too 

    From 1977, written by the late great Paul Harvey.


    • Gloria 6:15 am on July 20, 2016 Permalink | Reply

      Some articles stand the test of time. Married to one and believe me, he is ALL that.

  • John 10:30 am on July 12, 2016 Permalink | Reply  

    Prostitutes’ Activities Featured In Old Newspaper Crime Section 

    Back in the old days of yesteryear (late 1800s), updates to activities of the local hookers were featured in some yankee newspapers in the crime or city sections. In May Willard’s case, the Bridewell mentioned was a jail in Chicago.

    And poor Mary McCarthy.

    (Harold Schecter)

    (Harold Schecter)


  • John 11:06 am on July 6, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: cynthia bouron   

    Market Basket Parking Lot – A Dead Body In The Trunk 

    Cynthia Bouron was a showgirl and actress who was once married to Milos Milosevic (aka Milos Milos), a would-be actor and stuntman during the mid 1960s.


    Milos murdered Barbara Rooney, Mickey’s estranged wife, and then took his own life in this murder-suicide back in 1966. Although rumors swirled that Bouron and Mickey teamed up and had them killed for their affairs, it was not true. Milos was just a crazy asshole.

    Her three kids were asleep. Here they are being led away from the house the next morning.

    Rooney’s three kids were asleep and did not hear gunshots. Here they are being led away from the house the next morning.

    Cynthia’s story does not end there. In the late 60s, she was known for having affairs with many famous dudes. In 1970, she filed a paternity suit against Cary Grant, even placing his last name on the child’s birth certificate. But she would not get a blood test and the case was tossed by the court.

    By 1973 Cynthia was living in this little house and working as a saleslady at a department store. She was also a “writer” – but everyone says that in Hollywood. By this time, two of her boys were already in their teens. Today, this 1,400 sq ft house is worth almost a million dollars. You can buy a ranch in Texas for that kind of dough. Hollyweird.

    513 Mariposa in Burbank

    513 Mariposa in Burbank

    Sadly, by 1973 Cynthia pissed off someone or was abducted by a stranger. She was found after being missing for a week. Bouron had been bludgeoned to death via blows to the head and was stuffed in the trunk of her car which was found in this supermarket parking lot in Studio City. The store was called the Market Basket back then.

    What it looked like back then - this is a screen capture from an old Dick Van Dyke movie, filmed on location.

    What it looked like back then – this is a screen capture from an old Dick Van Dyke movie, filmed on location.

    Here’s what the shopping center looks like today. I guess it’s that pharmacy to the left over there:

    The site today

    The site today

    The case went cold and has never been solved.


    Cynthia’s Obituary:

    Word has been received here of the death of Mrs. Cynthia Bouron, 39, a former resident of Palm Springs known for her association with the entertainment clement and nightlife world of the area. At one time Mrs. Bouron had a show on area TV station KPLM, where she discussed problems with listeners. Mrs. Bouron died last week in Los Angeles.

  • John 2:27 pm on June 29, 2016 Permalink | Reply  

    Happy 4th of July! 

    On the afternoon of June 29, 1981… the gang were celebrating the Nash score, and a worried Tracy McCourt was phoning for a taxi so he could go home to his shitty apartment on Lemp St. in North Hollywood.

    About sixty years earlier, this was going on at the Overlook…


    • localarts 4:56 pm on June 29, 2016 Permalink | Reply

      John & Dawn were getting ” way high ” as Dawn would later way. I believe she also said they went to a sea food place and ordered hush puppies… Probably Long John Silvers. Hard to believe its been 35 years!

  • John 1:15 pm on June 27, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , hyatt house, marvin pancoast, steve lubetkin   

    1979 – Comedian Jumps From Roof Of Hyatt House on Sunset 

    I can’t find anything about Steve Lubetkin on the web, so he must not have been all that funny. And jumping from the 14th floor of the hotel had to have made a mess down there on the driveway. I like how it was all about a pay dispute regarding comedians not getting paid, and he blames it all on Pauly Shore’s mother (the Shores have long owned the Comedy Store in Hollywood). The bio below cuts off but a note found on his person read: “My name is Steve Lubetkin. I used to work at the Comedy Store.” or something like that. His girlfriend also left a poster of him in Mitzi Shore’s office which read: “Got the message!”. Drama.

    The goofball named Marvin Pancoast – who murdered the model and Alfred Bloomingdale muse, Vicki Morgan in 1983, attempted to jump from the roof of the same “Riot Hyatt” back in the mid-70’s but police were able to talk him down and take him away. Marvin was convicted of murder but died in Chino prison of AIDS in 1991.


Compose new post
Next post/Next comment
Previous post/Previous comment
Show/Hide comments
Go to top
Go to login
Show/Hide help
shift + esc

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 192 other followers