Tuesday, May 21, 2024

BLOODY JACK Chapter Eleven

 

I was not surprised that Coroner Baxter was eager to resume his inquest into the death of Mary Ann “Polly” Nichols, which he did promptly on Monday morning, 3 September, 1888. But I was surprised by the first witness presented – Detective Inspector John Spratling, from the Bethnal Green “J” Division. 
Spratling had not even arrived at the murder scene until after Polly Nichols' body had been removed, leaving just a blood stain on the sidewalk. Even then, Spratling had quickly followed Polly's body to the Montague Street Morgue, where he found the corpse already stripped by the two workhouse morgue attendants. It was at this point that Coroner Baxter demanded to know who had given the attendants “authority” to do that. “I don't object to their stripping the body,” said the prickly Baxter, “but we ought to have evidence about the clothes.”
The clothes had been left lying on the floor of the tiny exam room– a black straw bonnet  trimmed with black velvet,  a reddish brown coat and an ulster jacket with seven large brass buttons, a brown linsey dress which looked new, both a gray woolen and a flannel petticoat, with “Property of Lambeth Workhouse” stenciled on their waistbands, and a pair of stays “in fairly good condition”. Baxter immediately became focused on the stays. The police, concerned that the case was veering off course, sent for the clothing.
While waiting for the missing stays, Inspector Spratling explained he had returned to Buck's Row that evening and examined the pavement up to Brady Street, and down to Baker's Lane, but found no traces of blood, dispelling the possibility Polly Nichols had been killed any where but where her body had been found. 
And after interviewing the residents in the houses on the south side of Buck's Row, including a woman who was awake and pacing in her kitchen between 3 and 4 that Friday morning, he could find no one who had heard a struggle or a woman crying out. Polly Nichols had been murdered quickly, probably by chocking, and all of the knife wounds had been inflicted after her death. And, in answer to a jury question, Spratling said all the wounds had been inflicted through her clothes.
Slaughter-house worker Henry Tompkins offered nothing new, and he was followed by 40 year old Police Constable Jonas Mizen - badge number 56 “H”, Whitechapel division. With 15 years on the force, he was the “extra” Bobby at the scene, who had been sent to fetch the ambulance cart, and he now explained how and why he arrived there. While rousting drunks and vagrants sleeping on the street around Hanbury Street and Baker's Row – part of his beat - he had been approached by Charles Cross (above), who told him there was a policeman on Buck's Row who had found a woman who was either dead or dead drunk, and who had asked for assistance. Mizen eventually responded, but not very quickly.
Charles Cross, a.k,a Charles Allen Lechmere, then testified he never told PC Mizen another policeman needed him.  Then William Nichols, Polly's estranged husband, testified the failed marriage was entirely Polly’s fault.  Then Emily Holland testified about her conversation with Polly at Whitechapel Road and Osborn Street  And after half a dozen other witnesses testified they had heard and seen nothing on Buck's Row that night, Corner Baxter (above)  got to the witness he wanted to grill – the mentally impaired 53 year old ex-dock worker and Workhouse poverty case, Robert Mann.
By this time the clothing had been brought to the inquest, and Detective Inspector Joseph Helson of Bethel Green division said the stays (above) had been so loosely tied the stab wounds could have been inflicted merely by throwing Polly's dress up over her knees, which she or the killer could have done. But Baxter, the firm advocate of procedure, was not to be dissuaded from uncovering the failings of his "lessers". Robert Mann testified his breakfast had been interrupted by the arrival of the body before 5:00 am that Friday morning. He had admitted the the police to the mortuary, and after breakfast had returned with 68 year old James Hatfield, and together had they disrobed the body.
Baxter (above) demanded to know, “Had you been told not to touch it?” -  meaning the body. Mann replied simply, “No.” Then he made the mistake of adding, “Inspector Helson was not there.”  Baxter asked, “Did you see Inspector Helson?”  Mann suddenly realized he had said too much, and gave the standard servants' reply “I can't say”.  In other words not yes and not no. Still on the scent, Baxter asked  “I suppose you do not recollect whether the clothes were torn?” Mann responded, “They were not torn or cut.” Baxter gave his wounded prey a little more rope. “You cannot describe where the blood was?” And Mann took it, answering “No sir, I cannot.” Then Mann jumped, asking, “How did you get the clothes off?” Robert Mann realized that somehow he was now caught, but he didn't seem to know what his mistake had been. So he responded simply, “Hatfield cut them off?”
A member of the jury came to Mann's rescue, asking “Was the body undressed in the mortuary or in the yard?” And Mann could now understand what he must have done. The “gentlemen” were worried that a woman, even a dead one, had been naked in public. So he proudly answered, “In the mortuary.” The break gave Coroner Baxter the chance to play the “better man”, when he pointed out to the jury what they must have known from the instant Mann had opened his mouth.  Baxter said, “It appears the mortuary-keeper is subject to fits, and neither his memory nor statements are reliable.” Of course, if that were true, why call him as a witness, except to humiliate him in public?
But Baxter was so determined to re-establish the social order that he then called James Hatfield to the stand next, and asked him, "Who was there?”  Hatfield replied, “Only me and my mate.” Then the old man went on to explain, he first took off Polly's ulster,   “... which I put aside on the ground. We then took the jacket off, and put it in the same place. The outside dress was loose, and we did not cut it. The bands of the petticoats were cut, and I then tore them down with my hand. I tore the chemise down the front. There were no stays.”
Baxter asked who had told them to this, and Hatfield responded, “No one...We did it to have the body ready for the doctor.”  Baxter seemed offended by Hatfield's impudence. He demanded, “Who told you the doctor was coming”. The idea that an assistant morgue attendant would have expected a doctor to appear  after the arrival of a murdered woman, did not seem to occur to Coroner Baxter. But even the partially senile Hatfield was too smart to fall for this trap.  He said only, “I heard someone speak of it.”  Baxter pressed ahead. “Was any one present whilst you were undressing the body?” Hatfield stepped lightly aside the trap. He answered, “Not as I was aware of.”
You can almost hear the arrogance and sarcasm dripping from the transcript as Baxter then asked the old man, “Having finished, did you make the postmortem examination?” Hatfield explained, “No, the police came.” Baxter missed the joke entirely. Clearly enjoying his own power,  he sneered, “Oh, it was not necessary for you to go on with it! The police came?” “Yes,” said the assistant morgue attendant,  “ They examined the petticoats, and found the words "Lambeth Workhouse" on the bands.” “It was cut out?”, asked the bureaucrat. “I cut it out,” said the old man. Supremely confident, Baxter asked, “Who told you to do that?” And now Hatfield sprang his own little trap. He answered, “Inspector Helson.”
Now it was Inspector Joseph Helson's chance to rescue the coroner, by pointing out he had arrived at about 6:30 that morning, thus giving a time to Hatfield's story. But Coroner Baxter still tried to salvage his reputation.  He challenged the witness, “Did not you try the stays on in the afternoon to show me how short they were?”  To which Mr. Hatfield gracefully replied, “I forgot it.”  Baxter was now able to tell the jury, “He admits his memory is bad.” Hatfield admitted that, and Baxter took his little victory and closed by saying, “We cannot do more.”
After Mary Ann Monk testified that at about 7:00 pm on Friday 31 August, 1888 she had seen Polly entering a pub on New Kent Road, indicating that like Martha Tabem, Polly Nichols had been pub hopping, Then the inquest was adjourned until 17 September, to give the police two more weeks to gather evidence, and for Coroner Baxter's bruised ego time to recover. But it also gave Bloody Jack time to recover as well.
- 30 -

Monday, May 20, 2024

HAVING FAITH Chapter Ten BORN AGAIN

 

I was not surprised that just a month after the final break with her mother, in August of 1930, Aimee Semple McPherson suffered an almost complete physical and emotional collapse. She was diagnosed with Metabolic acidosis, when the kidneys are unable to remove carbon dioxide from the blood. The body tries to compensate by expelling more through the lungs, causing hypo-ventilation. The victim is left constantly exhausted. 
As a result Sister Aimee spent most of 1930 in a sick bed. The following year of 1931, Aimee returned to her demanding schedule. 
And then, in September, while heading to Portland, Oregon for a week long revival, she stopped off at San Quentin Penitentiary, to visit her old enemy, Asa Keyes.
A lot of people were suspicious of the way Keyes dropped the prosecution of Aimee. And even before he stepped down as District Attorney in 1928, a grand jury was looking into the matter. Although there were a lot of rumors about a payoff, there was not enough evidence to indict Keyes for that. However he was indicted and convicted of accepting a $140,000 bribe for undermining the prosecution of the Julian Petroleum scandal.
Asa Keyes (above, right) served 3 years, and upon his release friends in the movie business found him work in several courtroom dramas, punching up the scripts with legal jargon, occasionally working as an extra, always with his back to the camera, voicing objections. He died of a stroke in 1934.
Aimee's self appointed cross-town rival, the Reverend Robert Schuler (above), deplored the “loyalty of thousands to this leader in the face of her evident and positively proven guilt.” Typically for Shuler, it was an over statement, and a few weeks later an Aimee supporter punched “Fighting Bob” in the snoot. Fighting Bob did not fight back. Still the publicity was a victory for him. 
That Christmas he was presented with a $25,000 donation, specifically to build his own radio station, making him Aimee's equal -  at lest in wattage. The only difference was that Aimee's station belonged to the Angelus Temple, while Shuler put his station in his own name. However the new reach of his anti-Semitic, anti-Catholic, anti-Aimee venom inspired the L.A. Times to note, “Unless you have been attacked by Rev. 'Bob' Shuler...you don't amount to much in Los Angeles.”
By 1932 Aimee (above right) felt the need to return to the revival trail, and started looking for help running the Angelus Temple while she preached - sort of a replacement for her mother, Mildred Kennedy . Aimee chose as her new co-minister a “blue-eyed (dirty) blond slip of a girl" named  Rheba Crawford Splival (above, left, looking up to Aimee). 
Rheba (above) was a Salvation Army convert known in New York as “The Angel of Broadway”. But her sudden rise allowed Rheba to dream of taking over Aimee's empire. 
However the Great Depression and the haphazard bookkeeping at the Temple drained even the flood of Sunday offerings. And in 1935 Aimee was forced to execute a coup, reducing Rheba's (above) power on the board and publicly blaming the angel of Broadway and her own daughter Roberta, for the mess. 
But Rheba was an experienced street fighter, and convinced Roberta McPherson to sue her mother for defamation. In a separate suit Rheba demanded $1 million for herself, claiming Aimee had called her a Judas. Mildred "Sister Minnie" Kennedy testified against  her daughter Aimee in both cases. A judge awarded  daughter Roberta $5,000, and Aimee settled out of court with Rheba for an undisclosed amount.
By 1940 the running of the Angelus Temple had been finally placed in the hands of professionals, with Aimee as the spiritual guide only.  It was the role she'd been born to. 
No longer speaking to either her daughter Roberta, or her mother "Sister Minnie",  Aimee had come to rely more and more on her son Rolf (above). And at ten in the morning of Tuesday, 26 September 1944,  it was Rolf who found his mother unconscious in her hotel bed.. There were rumors of course that the “Miracle Woman” had committed suicide. 
And the truth was that Aimee had taken sleeping pills the night before. 
But when they made her feel ill, Aimee had called two separate doctors seeking advice. The first was unavailable, and the second recommended she call a third.  She passed out before she could make the final call. Aimee Semple McPherson was declared dead at 11:15 in the morning of 26 September, 1944. Six thousand faithful attended her funeral in Forest Lawn Cemetery, Burbank, California, on a hill side overlooking the Burbank studio lot. 
At her death, Aimee's personal estate was valued at just $10,000. Daughter Roberta was bequeathed  $2,000. Her mother Mildred Kennedy got a mere $10, with the stipulation that if she contested the will, she was to received nothing at all. 
The remaining $8,000 went to Rolf, the only one who had remained loyal. He would lead the Angelus Temple for the next 44 years, the mother church to almost 9 million believers world wide.  The Temple's founder was not perfect, but the only people who expected her to be that, were the true believers.
- 30 -

Sunday, May 19, 2024

HAVING FAITH Chapter Nine CALGARY

 

I suppose he was the most famous heterosexual male in the world. Originally trained as a dancer, Rodolfo Alfonso Gugliemi di Valentina d'Antonguella went into films because he'd been black balled in live theatre after having an affair with a rich producer's wife.  He was now earning $10,000 a week ($120,000 a week today) as a film actor.
Rich, handsome, and single again after a bitter divorce, the 31 year old year old went into a New York City hospital early in August of 1926 to have his appendix removed, and two weeks later he died from an infection. Over 100,000 fans attended his funeral in Manhattan, and they gave him another one in Los Angeles. His corpse was temporarily slipped into a borrowed vault in a Hollywood mausoleum, but he's been there ever since, under his film name, Rudolph Valentino.
Hooray for Hollywood
That screwy ballyhooey Hollywood”
At a time when the average movie ticket cost a dime, one of the first films to gross over $1 million was Valentino's 1920 “The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse”.  This year of 1926, the most popular film was Harold Lloyd's “For Heaven's Sake”.   It had cost $150,000 to make (under $2 million today), and would gross over $2,600,000 (over $300 million today). With that kind of profit margin, the movie industry was growing up fast, and almost 90% of all films made in America were being shot in Hollywood. And it was here that a revolution was about to occur.
Where any office boy or young mechanic can be a panic
With just a good looking pan”
It was being birthed on Sunset Boulevard in the center of Hollywood, by Harry, Albert and Sam Warner
The investment house of Goldman Sachs had financed the growth of Warner Brothers studio (above), allowing them to branch out the year before into radio, with KFWB.   But in 1926 Warner Brother's went $333,000 (over $4 million) into debt , to invest in an experimental short film called “A Plantation Act”, staring Broadway musical star, Al Jolsen.    
Eldest Warner brother Harry thought it was a mistake, saying, “Nobody wants to hear actors talk.”   But even though the final 89 minute film, released in 1927 as “The Jazz Singer” (above) had only a little over 2 minutes of sound, cost less than half a million dollars to make, it sold almost $6 million in tickets.   And between those two earth shaking events, the death of the biggest silent film star, and the birth of "talkies" occurred the preliminary hearing for Aimee Semple McPherson. And like all second acts, this one had an unsatisfying curtain.
And any shop girl can be a top girl 
If she pleases a tired businessman.”
It was only a matter of time before the unstable Lorraine Wiseman-Sielaff (above) cracked.  District Attorney Asa Keyes was hoping she would hold together long enough to convict Amiee, her mother and Kenneth Ormiston. Keeping her charged along with the conspirators she was testifying against was Keyes' way of keeping her under control.  But it didn't work. Shortly after the hearing, Lorraine gave a newspaper interview in which she tweaked her story. It was not much of a change. But it was fatal. 
Under oath she identified the man who had approached her with the $5,000 offer to lie for Sister Aimee as a mysterious “Mr. Martin”.  But to the newspaper she named him as Jack Wooley, working for his uncle, attorney and L.A. power broker, Roland Rich Wooley (above, left).
Hooray for Hollywood,
Where you're terrific if you're even good.”
 Lorraine's story, as it appeared in the newspaper,  was, in all important aspects, the same as it had been under oath. And she was far from the only witness who positiviely placed Aimee and Kenneth Ormiston together in Carmel during the week after her supposed kidnapping.  But for some reason, Keyes grew increasingly doubtful about the coming trial. On Wednesday, 29 December, he called the case “muddled”.  The next day he insisted, “I will not drop this case.”  He then accurately called the  Lorraine's shift “more of an elaboration” than a change.  But after a weekend of thinking, on Monday 3 January of 1927, he began to shift himself, saying he would “take all the time necessary to make up my mind” - to formally charge Aimee with fraud.
Where anyone at all from Shirley Temple to Aimee Semple
Is equally understood”
A week later Keyes made up his mind. “Without (the testimony of Lorraine Wiseman-Sielaff) proof of the alleged conspiracy is now impossible.”  And that was the end of it.  Rumors were heard, of course, whispering that Keyes had been paid to drop the case. But whatever the truth it was the ultimate anti-climax.  It was all over. 
The Hearst owned Herald American wrote that after 3,500 pages of testimony and half a million dollars (in 21st century,  $3 million)  all that was achieved was that “the McPherson sensation has sold millions of newspapers, generated fat fees for lawyers, stirred up religious antagonism...(and) advertised Los Angeles in a ridiculous way."
Go out and try your luck, you might be Donald Duck
Hooray for Hollywood.”
Within a week of Keye's decision, Aimee announced an 80 day evangelical trip, which the press immediately dubbed the “Vindication Tour”.  Mildred Kennedy did not want her to go, but Aimee insisted, so her mother joined her on the tour.  Also joining the church were new faces, hired to handle the press, people like Mae Walden (above left). She was not a fundamentalist, used make up and wore appealing clothes. And gradually, during the tour, Sister Aimee did so too (above center). The "miracle woman" dyed her air, began wearing lipstick, and tightened her corset to give herself a more comely shape.  After the tour the evangelist returned to a church in open rebellion, an uprising fermented by her mother.
Hooray for Hollywood
That phoney super-Coney Hollywood.”\
To remove Aimee from a position of power before she bankrupted the place, “Sister Minnie” set up a vote of “no confidence” by the temple's board of directors.  But she miscalculated, and Aimee won the vote.  Gldwyn Nichols, the choir director, held a press conference to announce she was resigning from the Angelus Temple.  Her justification was “Aimee's surrender to worldliness--her new wardrobe of fancy gowns and short skirts, jewelry, furs, her new infatuation with cosmetics and bobbed hair, all specifically condemned by the Scriptures”  As read by the choir director. 
The fake drowning wasn't even mentioned. Still, the entire 300 member choir quit with Mrs Nichols.  
As did Mrs. Mildred Kennedy (above).   In 1927, in exchange for a $200,000 settlement, Mrs. Mildred Kennedy officially resigned from the board of the Angelus Temple she had helped to build.  Momma left with a typically Christian thought for Aimee. She told the press, “My daughter is like a fish on the beach when it comes to handling money, I don't believe if you put an add in the newspapers you could find anybody dumber when it comes to business. All they got to do is let her have her way for a year, and she'll bankrupt the place, mark my words.”
They come from Chillicothes and Paducas with their bazookas
To get their names up in lights.”
 
Mrs. Kennedy's scolding advice was replaced by more positive voices, urging new investments, a condominium tower (above), and a cemetery, among others.  
Aimee released recordings of her sermons. She collected her sermons into books. Aimee Semple McPherson dolls were licensed,  Every way possible the money stream from the church was tapped. And  within a year Mildred's warnings were proven correct. The Four Square Gospel Church was almost bankrupt. 
Mildred came back for awhile, left again and returned again when the stock market crashed. But the fights were escalating, until Aimee finally punched her mother in the face, breaking her nose. 
All armed with photos from local rotos
With their hair in ribbon and legs in tights”
In 1927, Dorthey Parker reviewed Aimee's autobiography, saying, “Well, Aimee Semple McPherson has written a book.. It is the story of her life, and it is called "In the Service of the King", which title is perhaps a bit dangerously suggestive of a romantic novel.  It may be that this autobiography is set down in sincerity, frankness and simple effort. It may be, too, that the Statue of Liberty is situated in Lake Ontario.”
Hooray for Hollywood
You may be homely in your neighborhood
But if you think that you can be an actor, see Mr. Factor
He'll make a monkey look good
Within a half an hour you'll look like Tyrone Power
Hooray for Hollywood!”
Music by Richard A. Whiting.
Lyrics by Johnny Mercer 1937
- 30 -